Wildflower Girl (11 page)

FRIDAY! FRIDAY! PEGGY WAS SO
excited she thought she would burst. At last her month’s trial was up.

Her first wages and afternoon off, and both on the one day – it was too good to be true. She had planned exactly where she was going.

Mrs Madden called Peggy to her room.

‘Sit down, Peggy. Are you happy here?’ Peggy nodded. ‘Mrs O’Connor and I are both well pleased with your work. I have your wages here. There’s no deduction for uniforms as in some households, and Mrs O’Connor told me there were no breakages, so it’s the full amount.’

She passed Peggy a sealed brown envelope. As Peggy got up to leave, Mrs Madden added: ‘I know it’s exciting and tempting when you get your first wages, but may I suggest you save most of it and spend only on essentials. Boston winters are cold and hard and you will most likely need a warm coat later on and strong boots for outside. Kitty will tell you where to go for such things.’

Peggy tried to look sensible and calm as she closed the door behind her. She tore open the envelope. 
Disappointment washed over her. This couldn’t be right! There were at least two dollars missing. The housekeeper must have made a mistake. She rapped on the door and marched back in. The housekeeper looked up in surprise.

‘Yes, my girl, what is it?’

‘It’s not right, Mrs Madden, there’s some money missing. You must have added it wrong.’

‘Added it wrong! How dare you, you little chit.’ The housekeeper lifted up her ledger and opened it at the day’s date.

Peggy spread the money on the desk.

‘No, Peggy, that’s all correct. Don’t forget – part of your first quarter year’s salary goes to Mrs Halligan as her fee.’ Peggy stared at her. ‘Did you forget, child?’ she asked.

Peggy didn’t answer. She felt a fool for kicking up such a fuss. She managed to mumble an apology and escape. All the rest of the morning she fumed. Mrs Halligan – how are you! At two-thirty Mrs O’Connor told her to tidy herself and enjoy her afternoon off.

Peggy walked along Greenbay Avenue, hoping to get a lift. After about fifteen minutes a horse and small carriage stopped beside her. She recognised the uniform. It was the coachman from the house next door.

‘Hop in, my dear, I presume you’re city bound?’

‘Yes,’ she smiled.

As they flew along the roadway, his cape flapping in the breeze, he told her about the people who lived in the houses they passed. They slowed down as they
got to the city centre. He had a long list of jobs to do, and he would be leaving again at six o’clock. If she was ready and waiting he would give her a lift back.

‘Now, I’ll not delay, so you’ll have a long walk home otherwise,’ he warned in his American drawl, still strange to Peggy’s ears.

Peggy was delighted and thanked him.

She loved Boston city. The streets were clean and wide and tree-lined. The buildings stood in neat rows, the houses had curved fronts and bow windows – and always in the distance was the beautiful harbour. Kitty had told her about the huge public common and the broad, fast-flowing Charles River. There was so much to see that Peggy didn’t know where to start. She looked in the sparkling glass windows of a busy store where the whole display was given over to fashion. There were bonnets and matching muffs and two beautiful velvet dresses. In the lower part of the window, gloves and small evening bags and bottles of French scent were displayed.

Fine ladies wearing fashionable bonnets and smelling of heady perfumes passed by her and disappeared inside the brass-edged doors.

If I buy anything there I’ll be skint, but it won’t stop me looking, she decided. She walked all around the fashionable part of town and then meandered down to where the streets became narrow, winding and cluttered. Here she came across a large general store. A cheery bell rang as each customer made their entry. A middle-aged woman directed Peggy to the clothing area. There was rail after rail of dresses and neat piles of folded blouses and aprons. A long drawer-unit held
displays of stockings and warm vests and such things. Peggy looked over the rail of coats. They were mostly black or dark green or a deep burgundy. They felt and looked warm. She shuddered when she saw the price tag and decided to purchase a warm pair of woollen stockings instead. Then she was lured into buying a small jar of honeysuckle-scented handcream, which promised to ‘banish dry chafed skin’. That was enough for one day.

Back outside she asked a red-faced man for directions and started to walk briskly towards Number 49, Empire Hill. As she climbed up the hill she passed a corner building. The windows were covered in portraits of women, men and children. They were not paintings, and they looked so real! They were sepia-coloured mostly, though some had been tinted with colours. There was a notice on the window: ‘The perfect gift to send home – a treasure for loved ones to keep. One sitting and a guaranteed print. Walk inside to our daguerreotype studio.’

Peggy looked at the pictures and noted the address for another time. Today she had other fish to fry. Quickly She traced her way to Number 49 and rang the bell. Nancy opened the door.

‘Hello, Nancy. I’m looking for Sarah. Is she still here? I’m sorry I haven’t time to chat,’ said Peggy breathlessly.

Nancy shook her head. ‘Sarah Connolly left about ten days ago. She’s lodging with her brothers in rooms at the back of Russell Street and is still working in Goldman’s shirt factory.’

‘I’ve missed her, then. I have to get a lift back at six
o’clock.’ Peggy was very disappointed.

‘Well, wait now – you can run down the street and catch her as she gets out of Goldman’s. She should be finishing her shift in a few minutes.’

Promising to visit again when she had the chance, Peggy took to her heels, wrapping her shawl tightly around her. She was back down the hill and across the two streets in no time, then she saw the tall ugly building that she knew was Goldman’s.

After ten minutes’ waiting she was rewarded by a glimpse of Sarah Connolly stepping through the heavy rust-coloured doors. Sarah spotted Peggy and ran straight to her.

‘Oh, Peggy, I’ve missed you,’ she said.

‘Sarah, I’ve so much to tell you. But how are things going for you?’

‘We have rooms two blocks away and I’ve been put to doing button work at Goldman’s.’

They were both so delighted to see each other that they could hardly stop talking and neither could get a word in edgeways. Peggy held on to Sarah’s arm as they walked through Russell Street towards the large ramshackle building and up to the third floor where Sarah’s new home was.

They had two bedrooms and a small living and cooking area. A row of shirts and long-johns hung from a rope across the long window. Straight away Sarah began to refuel the simple stove and then lifted a pot of thick soup on to cook. Peggy realised her friend was all done in. Her face was pale, with deep purple shadows under her eyes, her hands were zig-zagged with cuts and looked sore and stiff.
The nails were broken and chipped, and blackened and darkened from the button work. After a hard day’s work at the factory which started at seven o’clock in the morning, Sarah then had to turn around and cook and clean for herself and her two brothers, John and James.

‘When the boys get better jobs and have learnt a bit about the building trade we’ll be able to afford a nicer place,’ Sarah assured Peggy.

Peggy refused anything to eat, but managed to swallow a quick cup of tea.

‘I have to go, Sarah, but maybe if I get my Sunday off in a few weeks we’ll see each other then.’

The other girl looked so lost and lonely that Peggy didn’t know what to do. On an impulse she reached into the large pocket of her dress. She pulled out the jar of honeysuckle handcream, still in its wrapper.

‘I nearly forgot, I bought you a little present.’

Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes as Peggy clambered down the stairs two at a time, and ran to get her lift. Peggy’s heart felt heavy and she was silent as the horse clip-clopped its way back to Rushton.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK PEGGY
was working in the music room.

‘Peggy, you’re to pay special attention to washing the floor and polishing the woodwork,’ Mrs Madden ordered.

‘I’ll get some fresh water, Mrs Madden, and do it straight away,’ Peggy said.

‘Apparently the dust and dirt has an effect on the piano, so make sure it’s spotless.’ The housekeeper went off upstairs to check Kitty’s work.

The music room was beautiful. Peggy let the cloth-covered mop glide over the maplewood floor. She’d polish it up when it dried.

The piano and music stand were the centrepiece of the room. Two or three spindly chairs were placed around the walls, which were lined with crowded bookshelves. Often Peggy would stop and gaze at the inscribed leather-bound covers, longing to read what was inside.

She had to kneel and almost crawl down on the floor to reach the wood under the curved window seat. When she put in the wet cloth there certainly was
plenty of dust. She was just about to squeeze out the cloth when she noticed a glint of silver. It was a ring designed in a pattern of entwined snakes. She lifted it up. She didn’t like it much and shoved it in her pocket to give to Mrs Madden.

She longed to lift the lid and run her fingers on the ivory keys of the piano, but resisted the temptation. Once she finished the music room, she went back to the scullery to empty the bucket.

Kitty ran in.

‘Mrs Madden wants you, Peggy, straight away in her office!’

Peggy dried her hands, ran upstairs and knocked on the housekeeper’s door.

Roxanne was standing in the corner of the room, pretending to look out at the yard.

‘Yes, Mrs Madden?’

‘Did you just clean the music room, Peggy?’

‘Yes Ma’am, I did as you asked,’ she answered.

‘Did you touch the piano?’

A blush of colour suffused Peggy’s face. Roxanne was looking at her.

‘No, Mrs Madden, I didn’t touch it.’ God, maybe it was broken and they were trying to blame her.

‘Are you sure?’

Peggy nodded, trying to appear calm.

‘She’s a liar,’ Roxanne declared fiercely. ‘A liar and a thief.’

Suddenly it dawned on Peggy what this was all about – that old snake ring she had found in the corner under the window seat.

‘I left my good ring on top of the piano when I was
practising. She’s stolen it.’

Peggy reached into her pocket to get the ring and put it on the desk and explain where she found it. It was gone!

‘Mrs Madden, I demand you search her. We don’t want a thief at Rushton.’

‘I’m sorry, Peggy. Have you anything to say?’

Peggy didn’t know what to do. How could she tell the truth if she couldn’t produce the ring? Then she’d be in real trouble.

Mrs Madden emptied out Peggy’s apron pockets and the pockets of her uniform. She then made her open the buttons on her sleeves.

‘You must be mistaken, Miss Roxanne,’ the housekeeper said, trying to soothe the girl.

‘Search wherever she’s been and her room. She could have hidden it there!’

Kitty was called in and sent to search the scullery. Mrs O’Connor had to sit in the office with Peggy while the housekeeper searched her bedroom. Miss Roxanne followed her up to the attic stairs.

Peggy felt numb. The ring had not been on top of the piano. If it was she would not have touched it. Mrs Rowan was always leaving pairs of fine earrings all over the house – in the dining-room or the drawing-room or the bathroom. They were never touched. But the snake ring had been in the most out-of-the-way place. It could never have got there by accident.

Mrs O’Connor said nothing to Peggy.

‘I didn’t steal it!’ pleaded Peggy.

The cook was embarrassed and fidgeted with her
apron. She would not meet Peggy’s eyes. Kitty came back, and stood leaning against the wall, pretending to stare out of the window. Twenty minutes later Mrs Rowan came down to see what all the fuss was about. She stood outside the door talking to the housekeeper, the cook and Roxanne. The two maids were left on their own.

‘Peggy’s a thief. I know she stole it. Get rid of her, Mother,’ they heard Roxanne shout.

‘Kitty,’ whispered Peggy. ‘Kitty!’

The other girl did not turn towards her.

‘You’ve got to help me. Please, Kitty, search and see if you can find the ring.’

Kitty refused to answer.

Peggy felt like screaming at her or even hitting her. ‘I didn’t steal it, I swear!’ She kept her voice low. ‘Kitty, we’re friends – please!’

Kitty swung around. Her face had the look of a hunted animal. ‘Stop it, Peggy. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve had enough trouble already, so just leave me alone,’ she hissed.

Peggy’s heart sank. She realised Kitty was weak and afraid and wouldn’t stand up for her. Just then the others filed back in to accuse Peggy again.

Roxanne ranted and raved.

‘Thief … Peggy is a thief … I know she stole it. Get rid of her, Mother.’

Mrs Rowan looked flustered and upset.

‘Roxanne, dear, calm down. We have no proof that Peggy took your ring. I suggest we let the matter lie and see if it turns up. Now, everyone, back to work.’

Mrs Rowan disappeared back upstairs with Roxanne.

But the damage had been done. It was clear that the others were not sure if Peggy had stolen the ring or not. Kitty avoided her for the rest of the day. Mrs Madden and Mrs O’Connor were cool towards her, speaking to her only to tell her what to do. By dinnertime they were ignoring her. Peggy felt shaky and near to tears. No one would believe her!

Kitty went off to bed early and did not offer to help with the washing up. There was a mountain of it to do – plates and dishes and all the pots and pans and roasting tins.

‘They’re all to be done tonight, Peggy,’ ordered Mrs O’Connor as she left the kitchen and disappeared up to her room.

The tears Peggy had bottled up since that afternoon slid down her face. It isn’t fair, she thought. Why don’t they believe me? They’ve no proof I took it.

She wondered would she be dismissed for stealing. How would she ever get another job then? This time there could be no going back to Number 49. Peggy rolled up her sleeves.

The scullery was freezing but after an hour or so sweat dripped off her. Her hands were raw and her eyes stung. By the time she had finished it was one o’clock in the morning by the kitchen clock.

She tiptoed up the back stairs. She was exhausted and miserable. Kitty had turned on her side, facing away from her.

Peggy fell into bed in her uniform. She would have to get dressed in a few hours anyway. At least she would be ready to face the morning.