A Change of Fortune (8 page)

When she’d been sitting in the warm kitchen she’d felt quite hopeful; that disappeared as she listened to Edna. She prayed she was going to be able to do this.

Burying her head in the pillow to muffle the sound, Jenny Baker, the new under housemaid, cried herself to sleep.

‘Jenny! Wake up.’

Someone was shaking her roughly. She opened one eye. It was dark, very cold and for a moment she couldn’t think where she was. Then Edna whipped the covers off her and she leapt to her feet as she remembered. She was now the under housemaid in the Stannard household.

‘Get washed and dressed quickly. Put on the striped frock and pinafore. Hurry, hurry!’ Edna urged.

Jenny had never been this rushed before but within ten minutes her roommate was inspecting her and nodding approval. They ran downstairs and presented themselves to the housekeeper.

Mrs Douglas handed Jenny a sheet of instructions. Every job was listed with the time beside it and she couldn’t help wondering how anyone could get through so much in one day.

‘These will be your duties. You must keep strictly to the times. Edna will show you today. Watch her carefully because you’ll be on your own from tomorrow. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Mrs Douglas.’

‘Off you go, then.’

Jenny followed Edna as the housemaid hurried from room to room, cleaning out the fireplaces and laying them ready for the footman to light. After watching her do three, she asked if she could have a go, and received a smile from Edna when she’d finished.

‘The next job,’ Edna told her after they’d dealt with five fireplaces, ‘is to scrub the front step. You can do that while I take up the early-morning tea. You’ve only got ten minutes, then we’ve got to get the day rooms ready before the family have finished their breakfast.’

As Edna hurried away, Jenny tumbled down the stairs to collect a bucket of water, scrubbing brush and cloth. She was puffing by the time she reached the front door. The biting wind was blowing straight at her and it felt as if her hands were frozen around the scrubbing brush. She gritted her teeth and scrubbed with all of her might, determined to do a good job – and on time. The step was gleaming and her hands red and sore when Edna reappeared.

‘That’s good, Jen. Now take the water out the back, clean the bucket and come up here again. I’ll be in the blue sitting room.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘Third door on the right. Hurry now.’

Picking up the cleaning things, Jenny hurried down the servants’ stairs, rushed out the back to tip the water away, cleaned the bucket and put it back with the others
in the large cupboard. She was just hurtling towards the stairs again when she was called.

‘Jenny, no running.’

She slithered to a halt. ‘Sorry, Mrs Douglas, I didn’t want to keep Edna waiting.’

‘Very commendable of you. Walk quickly, don’t run.’

By the time the servants had their breakfast at eight o’clock, Jenny was already exhausted. The rest of the day was equally hectic. The list of things to be done was never ending. Dusting, polishing, making beds, cleaning bathrooms, laying meals in the servants’ hall, washing up, cleaning brasses – the tasks went on and on.

Ten o’clock that evening and bedtime found her numb with fatigue and close to tears. Her hands were so painful she could hardly move them.

‘Let me look at your hands.’

Jenny held them out and Edna tutted when she saw them. ‘Oh, dear, I can see you’re not used to hard work. I’ve got something to help.’ She fished out a jar and an old pair of gloves from the bottom of the cupboard.

‘What’s that?’

‘Cook’s special remedy. It’s got butter in it, but I’m not sure what else. It works, though.’

Jenny gasped in pain as Edna began to smooth the thick cream over her raw and cut hands. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, making her roommate laugh.

‘Shocking, ain’t it, but you’ll be glad in the morning.’ Edna eased the gloves on her, giving a sympathetic smile. ‘There, keep those on all night. You’ll soon get used to the hard graft. You did well today.’

‘Thanks.’ She jumped in bed and yelped when she hit something hard … but warm.

‘I put a hot brick in your bed for you. You’re going to need a good night’s kip if you’re to survive another day.’ Edna chuckled. ‘We’ve got all the beds to change tomorrow as well.’

‘I’m glad I was the fastest runner in my school.’

Edna laughed again. ‘Yeah, you can’t hang about in this job. What school did you go to?’

‘One in Lambeth. You wouldn’t know it.’ Jenny’s heart raced. That was careless of her.

‘You come from Lambeth?’

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t sound as if you do.’

Jenny’s mind was working like mad. One unguarded remark and the questions came. ‘Blame that on my dad; he was a stickler for talking proper.’

Edna’s ready laugh erupted again. ‘I’m glad you came, Jen. The last girl was a right misery, but you’re nice. You come to me if you need help. I’ll see you’re all right.’

Jenny turned her head and smiled at Edna in the gloom. ‘Thanks. I’m glad I came too. Can we be friends?’

‘Sure, I’d like that. We can go out together on our time off.’

‘That would be nice.’

‘Yeah, night, Jen.’

‘Goodnight, Edna.’

Once again the silent tears began to flow, but the
new under housemaid was determined to make this the last time.

The weeks passed and Jenny grew in confidence. For the first couple of weeks she’d been on edge waiting for her Aunt Gertrude to storm in and drag her back. But when nothing happened, she began to relax. They had probably given up looking for her, and anyway they would never think that she was working as a servant.

The work was harder than she could ever have imagined, but with Edna’s help she soon fell into the routine. Her hands had toughened up and were not giving her as much trouble now – cook’s special cream was good stuff. Mrs Douglas was so pleased with her willingness to work without complaint that she had been made a permanent member of the staff already. She didn’t dare look too far into the future because the outlook was bleak. But for the moment she was housed, clothed, fed, paid and her aunt hadn’t found her. That was enough for now.

6

There was a good fire burning in the grate; the curtains were drawn across the windows to keep out the cold December weather; a mother and father were reading peacefully with their three sons around them. An idyllic family scene, but Matt Stannard was about to disturb the calm.

He laid his book aside, drew in a deep breath and said, ‘I’m not going back to university, Father.’

His father looked up from his newspaper, seemingly unperturbed by his youngest son’s announcement. ‘Having difficulty managing on your allowance, are you? I’ll see what I can do in the New Year.’

‘It hasn’t anything to do with money.’ Matt stood up. His father was a reasonable man, but he wasn’t going to like this. ‘I mean it. I’m not studying any more. I’ve finished with Oxford. I’m going out to work.’

Now he had everyone’s complete attention: John was on his feet and frowning fiercely; Luke was grinning as usual; and his mother had set aside her book, calm as ever.

‘But why?’ his father asked. ‘You have a good brain, better than the rest of us, if the truth be told. You could end up as a professor.’

‘I don’t want to be a professor.’

‘Where did this sudden idea come from, Matt?’ His father looked perplexed.

‘It isn’t sudden,’ he explained. ‘I’ve thought about it very carefully. I want to leave university.’

‘If your mind’s made up, then I suppose we could find you a position with the bank.’

Matt sighed quietly. They had all been given freedom to choose their own careers, but, nevertheless, they were going to find this hard to understand. ‘No, thank you, Father.’

‘Well, what do you want to do?’

‘I intend to be a car mechanic.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ John exploded. ‘What kind of a career is that?’

‘A very good one. Cars are the future. There will come a time when almost every family will own one.’

‘Haven’t you been listening to the news lately?’ John was now pacing up and down. ‘The Wall Street stock market has crashed and it’s being felt everywhere. There’s going to be a depression. The signs are all there. Who’s going to buy cars then?’

‘John!’ Their mother spoke firmly. ‘Raising your voice won’t solve anything.’

He threw himself back into his chair, looking thoroughly disgruntled. ‘He’s a blasted idiot, giving up the chance of an academic career for some ludicrous whim. Matt’s damned clever.’

‘I must agree with John,’ their father said. ‘This doesn’t appear to be a very sound notion, Matt.’

‘Maybe, but I’d like to give it a try. Give me two
years, Father. If at the end of that time I can’t earn a living at it, I’ll go back to Oxford and pick up where I left off.’ It was a concession he didn’t want to make, but he had to be fair to his parents, and this would make them feel more at ease.

‘You’re determined to do this?’

He nodded to his father, and then glanced at his mother, who smiled her support.

‘I see.’ His father was now leaning on the mantelpiece with a glass of brandy in his hand. ‘I’ll buy you a garage to start you up.’

‘Father!’ John was up again. ‘You can’t do that. Our bank has weathered the crash better than most, but we’ve still lost money and must be careful.’

‘We’ve suffered some losses, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.’ He looked at his eldest son with pride. ‘It was your insistence that we spread our investments and not be swept up in the euphoria of the stock market chase for fast money.’

John appeared mollified by the praise. ‘We still need to be cautious.’

Matt watched the exchange with interest. John might be young, but when it came to banking he was a master. Their father turned to him more and more for advice, and Matt didn’t think he’d ever been wrong in his predictions. In this instance the family had cause to be very grateful to John, for he had undoubtedly saved their bank from collapse. Although his elder brother could be a touch volatile at times, he knew what he was doing. Underneath his stern and serious nature lurked
a kind man. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his family.

‘Don’t worry, John,’ Matt said. ‘I don’t want a garage. I’m going to take an apprenticeship and learn the trade that way – from the bottom up.’

John’s mouth opened in disbelief. ‘You mean you’re going to work in dirty overalls and get grease all over your hands?’

A chuckle of mirth came from Luke, who was keeping out of the conversation. As a future lawyer he already knew the wisdom of listening to both sides of a story.

‘I couldn’t strip down engines without getting greasy, could I?’ Matt said, laughing.

His father appeared stunned and turned to his wife. ‘What do you think about all this, my dear?’

‘I think we should let Matt do as he wishes. He’s promised to return to his studies if it doesn’t work out and you know he always keeps his promises.’

‘Hmm. Yes, you’re quite right. Many young men take time out from studying to travel, so Matt might as well get this out of his system.’ The worry faded from his expression. ‘Where do you have to go to get this apprenticeship?’

‘I’ve already spoken to Mr Porter of Mayfair Automobiles. He’s the best in the business and is prepared to take me on after the Christmas holiday.’

‘Ah, I know the man. He’s the owner of a very prestigious garage. Only works on the best cars.’ He drained his glass and smiled broadly at his youngest son. ‘Very
well, you may get your hands dirty for two years with my permission.’

‘Thank you.’ Matt went over and shook his father’s hand. He was aware that they all thought this was something he would grow out of; he knew differently. This was a desire he’d nursed for a very long time.

‘You’re mad,’ John said. ‘There are going to be tough years ahead. Some people have lost entire fortunes in this disaster.’

‘Yes, it’s truly dreadful,’ their mother said. ‘I’ve heard some men have killed themselves because they’ve lost everything. Is that so, John?’

‘I’m afraid it is. Peter Tarrant killed himself and at least two Americans I’ve heard about.’

‘Poor souls.’ Her eyes were full of sadness.

‘Do you remember that American gentleman we met at the Stock Brokers’ Gala Ball last Easter, my dear? We spent most of the evening with him.’

‘Yes, I remember him. He seemed a pleasant man. Unusual colouring, if I recall. He had dark hair and eyes of such a pale brown they looked almost gold.’

‘My word, the things you ladies notice,’ her husband remarked. ‘As I was saying, I heard a couple of weeks ago that he was dead. Don’t know the details, though.’

‘How terrible.’ Mrs Stannard was clearly shocked. ‘Didn’t he have a young daughter?’

‘He did and was very proud of her. He told anyone who would listen what a charming girl she was.’

‘Oh, poor child.’ Their mother stared at the fire.

Christmas Day and Matt was excited about the future. He had always loved working with anything mechanical and couldn’t wait to start his apprenticeship. He now had two years to do something he was really interested in. He didn’t intend to fail because going back to the academic life was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. He found it too easy. While the other boys were spending hours studying, he had only to read something through twice and he retained the information. Quite frankly he soon became bored, longing for a challenge. Now he would have one.