The Downstairs Maid (2 page)

As Emily turned on the tap to get herself a drink of water, an angry face appeared at the window and the tallyman banged on the glass.

‘I can see you, Emily,’ he shouted. ‘You tell your mother I’ll be back next week and if she doesn’t pay up, then I’ll take something from the house to cover what she owes me.’

Emily shrank back, frightened by the red, angry face that glared at her once more before turning and stalking off. She filled a cup of water and was drinking it when her mother came from the pantry. Her face looked like blue thunder and she grabbed Emily by the shoulders, shaking her until her teeth rattled.

‘Why won’t you ever do as you’re told?’ she demanded. She suddenly let go of Emily and then slapped her across the face, making her stagger back and crash into one of the assorted chairs at the table. They had six wooden chairs, none of which matched the other. Pa was always buying things cheap from the cattle market in Ely and sometimes from other people. He said the things he bought would be worth good money one day, and now and then he sold something for a few bob or even a pound or two; those were the good times, because he would have money in his pocket and Ma could fill up her jar on the mantelpiece. She could pay the tallyman what she owed then and Emily didn’t have to stay off school or hide under the table.

‘It was hot under there and I couldn’t breathe,’ Emily said, her eyes smarting with the tears she was too proud to shed. Ma didn’t often hit her, but when she did it hurt. ‘I wanted a drink of water.’

‘You should have waited a bit longer. Now he’ll know I was here and next week he’ll ask for double.’

Emily stared at her. Her cheek stung from the hard slap and she felt like crying but if she did Ma would shout at her again and call her a silly little girl. Emily wasn’t a silly little girl and she didn’t want her mother to be angry with her. So she just stood looking at the floor saying nothing, until the door opened and her father came in. Pa was a tall man with dark hair and broad shoulders. She thought he was handsome, even though her mother didn’t seem to like him much. He had a lean, craggy face and Emily adored him. She wanted to run to him and bury her face in his body, inhaling the scents of the horses, hay, cowsheds and milk, but if she did that her mother would accuse her of being her father’s spoiled baby.

‘What’s all this then?’ Pa asked and looked at Emily. She hung her head and didn’t answer.

‘I told her to hide from the tallyman but she came out too soon and he saw her – now he’ll ask for more next week and how am I to pay?’

‘I saw him on my way through the yard just now and gave him five shillings,’ Pa said. ‘I was lucky today. I sold an old lead pump for scrap and a set of chairs for twelve shillings.’

‘You should have given the five shillings to me,’ Ma said, looking annoyed. ‘I would have paid him two next week and kept the rest. How do you think I’m going to manage if you give all our money away?’

Pa didn’t speak immediately. Emily wondered if he minded Ma nagging at him all the time. He never seemed to get cross and she knew he never raised a finger to his wife, which a lot of men did. She knew that because her best friend, Polly, told her that her father gave her mother a black eye most Friday nights, after getting drunk on his wages.

‘Well, maybe things are going our way at last, lass,’ Pa said. ‘I’ve heard from Uncle Albert’s lawyer. He passed away last week and I’m to go into Cambridge when it’s convenient and he’ll tell me what’s been left to me.’

‘Thank God!’ Ma cried. ‘I thought the old goat would go on for ever.’

Pa looked at her as if he didn’t approve of what she’d said but he didn’t answer her back. He just sat down in his chair by the fire and unlaced his boots, then took his pipe down from the mantelpiece. His tobacco jar was empty, because there was not often money enough to fill it, so he just sucked at his empty pipe and looked at Ma.

‘Pop upstairs and fetch me my Sunday coat down, Em love,’ he said. ‘I want a few words with your ma.’

Emily nodded and shot out of the room. She closed the door on the stairs leading to the landing above, but even with it closed she could hear the raised voices and she shivered. Sticking her fingers in her ears so she couldn’t hear what was being said, she ran up the remaining stairs and down the hall to her parents’ room. She found Pa’s coat immediately but lingered a while so that they could get their argument over before she returned.

Her throat felt tight and she wanted to cry but she knew crying wouldn’t do any good. She loved her father and her mother too, in her way, but it seemed that neither of them loved the other.

Emily felt sad that Uncle Albert had died, even though she’d only met him once. He’d smiled at her, patted her head and given her two toffees wrapped in gold paper from his pocket. She’d liked him, even though Miss Concenii was no better than she ought to be, had a diamond ring Emily coveted, and didn’t like children sitting on her chairs.

Emily was sorry that she wouldn’t see Uncle Albert again. She knew what it meant to pass away, because they’d buried Grandfather two years earlier and, although Emily hadn’t been taken to the funeral, she’d visited his grave with Ma since to place flowers there and say a little prayer. She couldn’t remember much about Grandfather now, except that he’d smelled peppery and had whiskers that scraped her chin. He’d left Emily his silver watch and chain, but Ma said it should have been Pa’s and she’d sold it when she needed some money. She didn’t even give Emily a penny for sweets; though Pa had brought her a packet of Tom Thumb drops a day or so later.

‘I’m sorry your ma did that, Em,’ he’d told her. ‘Your grandfather wanted you to have it to remember him by but it’s my fault for not giving your ma the living I promised her.’

Pa always made excuses for Ma. He would stop her hitting Emily if he knew what happened, but Emily never told. She knew that if she did her mother would get her own back eventually so she just accepted the slaps and harsh words and got on with her life.

She wondered if Uncle Albert would have left her anything, then decided it was unlikely. She’d hardly known him, whereas she’d been her grandfather’s little pet. Even if Uncle Albert did leave her a silver watch, her mother would take it away and sell it.

Emily rubbed at her cheek, which was still stinging and walked back down to the kitchen. Her father smiled and thanked her, then took the coat, slipping it on without a word. He was wearing his best boots too and picked up a hat rather than his old working cap as he left. Emily looked at Ma fearfully as the door shut behind him. Would her mother have another go at her for letting the tallyman see her?

‘Get the cake tin out, Emily,’ Ma said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and we’ll have some tea. If your father has the money you’ll be going to school next week and we shan’t have time to indulge ourselves.’

Obviously, Ma’s mood had improved. Emily sensed that she was hoping for something good to come out of Pa’s trip to the lawyer. If Uncle Albert had left Pa his house, they might go and live there. Emily remembered that it was at a place called Hunstanton in Norfolk, at the seaside. Her visit to Uncle Albert had been her one and only trip to the sea and she remembered it as being the best day of her life. Pa had carried her on his shoulders along the seafront. He’d bought her a stick of peppermint rock and some cockles at a little stall close to the sea; she’d loved the rock but hadn’t liked the cockles much so Pa had finished them up, because you couldn’t waste good food.

Sitting at the table, from which the precious cloth had now been removed, Emily munched her seed cake and looked about her. At the far end of the kitchen was an oak dresser; its shelves were cluttered with bits and pieces of china her mother had collected over the years and prized above anything. Pa had given her a few pieces of blue and white, and they were all perfect, unlike the things he sometimes gave to Emily. He could never afford to give anything away that might sell for a few shillings – but perhaps things might change now. She wondered what the future might bring. Were they going to be rich?

Emily could hear the row going on downstairs and she stuck her fingers in her ears, burying her head under the pillows to shut out the angry words. It was warm in her bed, because she had two wool blankets and a thick eiderdown filled with duck feathers, and the sheets smelled of lavender. At night when it was cold out, she liked to burrow right down into her soft mattress, pull the covers over her head and disappear into her own world. In Emily’s secret world she could be whatever she wanted to be – a princess living in a castle with jelly and cake for tea every day. Or a lady in a fine house with a big diamond ring like Miss Concenii had – or … there Emily’s imagination ran out, because she knew so little of the world. The vicar spoke of foreign lands sometimes, but the stories he told seemed more like the fairytales in the old books Pa sometimes brought home for her to read. Pa was always bringing some treasure home for Emily, although the bits of glass and china were usually chipped or cracked.

‘I can’t sell them like that, Em lass,’ he would tell her, taking her on his knee to explain that the latest find was Derby or Coalport or Worcester porcelain and the glass cranberry or Bristol blue or perhaps a very early Georgian wineglass with a spiral stem. ‘If they were perfect they would be worth money – this scent bottle has a silver top, see – look at the hallmarks; that little lion means it’s proper English silver and the leopard’s head means it was made in London and that one is the date letter. See those four letters; they’re the maker’s marks but they’re a bit worn and I can’t see, but there’s a feel to this piece. That was made by a good silversmith that was and I’m not going to scrap it even if it would bring in a couple of bob. If this was perfect it would be worth at least two pounds, perhaps more – but the cap is dented, the stopper is broken and the glass is chipped. I wouldn’t get more than a shilling.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Emily said and hugged him. ‘I love it, because it is pretty and I don’t care that it’s damaged.’

She thought she would like to learn all the silver hallmarks but Pa didn’t know them all. He needed a reference book, so he’d told her. Emily decided that one day, when she had lots of money, she would buy him one, to say thank you for all he gave her.

Pa nodded and kissed the top of her head. ‘That’s right, lass. Always remember when you buy something to buy quality. If it’s damaged it will come cheap and that way you can afford things you’d never otherwise be able to own.’

In Emily’s eyes the fact that her father had given her the treasure and took the time to explain what it was, where it was made and what it was for, meant more than the item itself. She liked to be close to Pa, to smell his own particular smell and feel safe in his arms. Emily knew her father loved her. She wasn’t sure if her mother even liked her, though sometimes she would smile and tell her to fetch out the biscuits or cakes, though she more often received a smack on the legs than a kiss.

The row seemed to go on for longer than usual that night. Driven at last by a kind of desperate curiosity, she crept down the uncarpeted wooden stairs, avoiding the one that creaked, to stand behind the door that closed the stairs off from the kitchen. Because it wasn’t shut properly, Emily could hear what her parents were saying.

‘But you’re his only relative,’ Ma said and she sounded almost tearful. ‘It isn’t fair that he should leave everything to that woman.’

Pa’s tone was calm and reasonable, the same as always. ‘Miss Concenii has been with him for years and nursed him devotedly this last year. The lawyer said he changed his will two months ago. I was the main beneficiary in the first one – most of the money and the house and contents … but then he changed it.’

‘And we know who’s behind that, don’t we?’ Ma said in a sullen tone. ‘She must have guided his hand. I told you to go and see him. I would have had him here and looked after him myself if you’d bothered to do something about it – but you’re always the same. You just leave things and now we’ve been cheated out of a fortune.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Pa said. ‘He probably thought she deserved the house and money for putting up with him all those years.’

‘She guided his hand that’s what she did. You should go to court and get your share.’

‘He left me fifty pounds, a set of chessmen in ivory and ebony, a mantel clock and a Bible – and he left Em a ring. I’ve got it in my pocket …’

‘She can’t have that, it’s too valuable,’ Ma said. ‘Give it to me. I’ll look after it for her until she’s older.’

Emily wanted to call out that the ring was hers. She was frightened her mother would take it and sell it, but her father was speaking again.

‘I’ll just keep it for her. Albert left you this, Stella …’

Emily heard her mother give a squeak of pleasure. Obviously, the bequest had pleased her. Emily craned forward to peep round the door and have a look. She could see something on the kitchen table. It flashed in the light and she thought it must be diamonds, though there were blue stones too.

‘That’s sapphire and diamond that is,’ Pa said. ‘It’s a brooch, Stella – and worth a few bob.’

‘I can see that but it’s not worth as much as a house – and three hundred pounds. Think what we could have done with all that, Joe. You’ve been cheated of your fortune but you haven’t the sense to see it.’

‘Even if I have there’s no proof,’ Pa said. ‘She made sure of that – the doctor signed to say Albert was in his right mind when he made his last will …’

‘And what did he get out of it I wonder!’

Ma was in a right temper. Emily turned and went back up to her bedroom. She ran across the stained boards and jumped into bed. Her feet had turned cold standing on the stairs listening to her parents and her mind was full of pictures that troubled her. What had Miss Concenii done to poor Uncle Albert to make him sign his house and most of his money and possessions over to her?

Emily’s eyes stung with tears that trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t mind much that they wouldn’t be rich. Fifty pounds sounded a lot to her and she was curious about the ring Pa was keeping for her – but she hoped Uncle Albert hadn’t been made unhappy when he was ill. She felt sad for him having his hand guided and she felt sad for her father, because he’d lost his fortune.