Chaff upon the Wind (7 page)

‘I’d like you to come to the church with me today, Kitty,’ Mrs Franklin told her on the Thursday morning before the weekend of the festivities. ‘Bemmy will drive us and
carry everything in for us.’

‘You mean I’m to help you decorate the church, madam, for Sunday?’

When Mrs Franklin nodded, Kitty bit her lip. ‘What about Miss Miriam? She wants me to cut her hair this morning and . . .’

Mrs Franklin waved her hand. ‘That will have to wait, Kitty. We must decorate the church. All the ladies will be there this morning. We must not be late.’

‘Yes, madam – I mean, no, madam.’

‘Run along and get ready then, Kitty. We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.’

Kitty ran lightly up the back stairs to her bedroom to fetch the short cape she wore over her maid’s uniform when walking into the town.

‘Clegg, where the hell are you?’ She heard Miriam’s angry shriek as she came down the stairs from her bedroom under the sloping thatch to the floor where the family’s
bedrooms were.

Pushing open the door to Miriam’s room she began, ‘I’m sorry, miss, but—’

‘Oh there you are. Come along, I want you to wash my hair for me and then trim the ends with these scissors.’ She turned on the stool to face Kitty. ‘Well, what are you
standing there for, dithering in the doorway? Come along. I’ve been waiting long enough.’

‘I’m sorry, miss,’ Kitty began again, ‘but ya mam – your mother – wants me to go with her to the church to help—’

Miriam sprang up from the stool and launched herself across the room. Grasping Kitty’s arm, she dragged her away from the door. Caught off balance Kitty stumbled and fell and when she had
scrambled to her feet, it was to see that Miriam had slammed the door, locked it and was now holding the key in her hand and waving it towards Kitty in triumph.

‘There! Now you’ll have to stay and help me.’

Kitty felt righteous anger surge through her. Miriam had no thought of the trouble she was causing for Kitty, making her disobey Mrs Franklin’s orders. The girl was completely and utterly
selfish.

‘No, I won’t. Give me that key this minute.’

Miriam laughed and dropped the key down the front of her corset. ‘Come and get it, if you dare.’

‘Oh I dare,’ Kitty said grimly and stepped towards her.

Miriam raised her hands across her bosom and grinned defiantly at the advancing Kitty, her green eyes flashing with excitement. Kitty tugged her arms away and grasped hold of the top edge of the
girl’s laced-up corset.

‘Ow, you little bitch! That hurts,’ Miriam screeched and lashed out at Kitty, catching her on the shoulder. Kitty held on, undaunted by the blow. That was one advantage of being part
of a large, boisterous family, she thought, you learned to take care of yourself.

‘Let go. Do you hear me?’ Miriam tried being the imperious mistress, but to no avail as slowly the corset began to give under Kitty’s grasp.

Suddenly, Miriam twisted away, wrenching Kitty’s hands painfully so that the maid was forced to release her grip. Miriam flew across to the dressing table and picked up the scissors,
holding them in her clenched hand like a dagger, ready to strike a blow.

‘Now see if you’re so brave, Kitty Clegg.’

Kitty stood her ground and sighed. ‘You’re being silly, miss,’ she said, managing to keep her voice sounding far more calm than she felt inside. ‘Put them scissors down
afore one of us gets hurt.’

‘Them scissors,
them
scissors?’ Miriam mocked, her voice rising in something approaching hysteria. ‘Ain’t you learned nuffin’ yet, you scurvy little kitchen
maid?’

Kitty opened her mouth to reason once more. There was a knock on the door and, startled, both girls looked towards it.

‘Miriam? Kitty?’ came Edward’s breathless voice. ‘What’s – happening? Open the door.’

‘Go away, Teddy dear,’ Miriam said, her tone at once gentle and so normal that Kitty could not help but marvel. My word, she thought, Miss Miriam is certainly a good actress. Though
which was reality and which was the act, Kitty could not begin to guess.

But it seemed that Edward was not to be dismissed so easily. ‘Please, Miriam, do – open . . .’ Clearly, even through the thick oak panels, they heard his rasping breath.
‘Open the door.’

Kitty looked towards her young mistress, but now she said nothing. She was watching her intently, waiting to see what the girl would do.

Slowly, Miriam’s hand was lowered and she dropped the pair of scissors on to the dressing table with a clatter. She looked up and met Kitty’s gaze. Softly, in a tone that could not
be heard beyond the door, she said, ‘You win – for now, Kitty Clegg. But only because of Edward.’ She raised her voice and called, ‘It’s all right, Teddy dear,
I’m just coming. We – we were just having a bit of fun.’ She was raising her arm to an awkward angle and trying to thrust her hand down the front of her corset. ‘I
can’t feel it . . .’ Then suddenly she was convulsed with helpless laughter. ‘Come here, Kitty,’ she spluttered, ‘you’ll have to get it for yourself after
all.’

Kitty found herself laughing too and in a moment the two girls were leaning against each other until tears ran down their faces while Kitty fished the key from between Miriam’s
breasts.

As she retrieved it and moved towards the door, she felt Miriam grasp her arm, but not now in the vicious grip of temper. ‘Don’t tell Edward what happened. Please, Kitty. It –
it would upset him and – and I couldn’t bear to make him worse.’

Close to her, Kitty could see the genuine anguish in the girl’s eyes.

Quietly and with an outward composure, even though the last few minutes had left her trembling inside, Kitty said, ‘Course I won’t, miss.’

As she unlocked the door, she heard the girl mutter, ‘Though I expect you will tell my mother this time.’

Kitty did not look back but smiled to herself. Oh Miss Miriam, if you think that then you’ve still a lot to learn yet about your new lady’s maid.

‘Kitty, are you all right?’

‘Of course, Master Edward. We were just funning. Please, go back to bed. You’ll catch cold again. Look, you’ve nothing on your feet.’ She tutted disapproval and gently
took his arm and steered him towards his bedroom door.

‘Can’t you stay a while?’ he asked, as she made him climb back into bed.

Pulling the covers straight, she said, ‘I’m sorry, but your mother’s waiting for me to go to help decorate the church for Sunday. I’ll try to come up later.’

Flying through the kitchen, Kitty gasped, ‘Where’s Bemmy? Has he gone?’

‘Oh aye,’ Mrs Grundy said, never pausing in rolling out a huge round of pastry. ‘He went ages ago. Picked madam up from the front door an’ all. Oh you’re in
trouble, me girl . . .’

But Kitty waited to hear no more, for she was through the back door, round the corner of the house to the wide driveway and out of the front gate into the road. The mistress would dismiss her
without a reference for this, she worried as she hurried along the road, and I can’t tell on Miss Miriam. She sighed, for the first time wondering if she had indeed taken on more than she
could handle.

Usually, Kitty loved walking into the centre of the town. Tresford was a small but very old market town, mentioned in the Domesday Book, and its name came from the three fords that crossed the
brook. At the town’s heart stood the church, its square tower rising above the meandering streets of prosperous houses and neat cottages. On her half day off, Kitty loved to wander through
the streets, especially on market days when the busy, bustling throng clustered around the stalls and the market men shouted their wares, vying with each other to catch the attention of the
shoppers. But today, she looked to neither right nor left. She didn’t stop to peer in the window of the chemist’s shop with all the different coloured bottles with strange sounding
names, or the sweet shop with its tantalizing array of boiled sweets and pretty, white and pink sugar mice. She didn’t so much as pause to look in the window of the hat shop where a new
bonnet stood displayed on a hat stand. Today, Kitty was in a hurry.

She rounded the last corner and saw the church with the road curving around it. She could see the motor car parked outside the gate and Bemmy struggling up the path with a heavy box of apples.
She ran the last few yards and arrived breathless and flustered as Mrs Franklin emerged from the church and came down the path towards the motor.

‘Ah, there you are, Kitty. Just bring the last box in for Bembridge, would you, please?’

‘Yes, madam,’ Kitty said and struggled to pick up the wooden box containing an assortment of vegetables and carry it into the dim interior of the church. Her footsteps echoed on the
flagstones and, panting with exertion, she set the box on the floor and then tiptoed to where Mrs Franklin was kneeling in front of the altar, carefully making a mound of the red shiny apples.

‘Bring the box here, Kitty.’

Kitty tiptoed back down the length of the aisle. Softly, measuring every tread, she carried the box to Mrs Franklin.

‘Where shall I put it, madam?’ she whispered. She had never been so close to the altar before, never near enough to see the fine gold embroidery that decorated the silk altar cloth.
She was gazing at it, standing with the heavy box still in her arms when Mrs Franklin said, ‘Put it here, Kitty, beside me on the step.’

‘Oh – er, yes, of course, madam. I’m sorry.’ Setting the box down she added, ‘I was just thinking how lovely the cloth is.’

‘Why, thank you, Kitty.’

Kitty stared down at her but Mrs Franklin merely carried on placing the vegetables and fruit in an attractive display at the foot of the altar steps, the harvest festival’s offering.
‘You mean – you did that? Made that cloth?’

Mrs Franklin smiled. ‘I worked it when I first came to live at the Manor as a young bride.’

Was there a trace of wistfulness in her tone? Kitty wondered. ‘I wish I could do something like that. It’s really beautiful.’ Overcome in her admiration, she had even forgotten
to whisper.

‘I’m sure you could, Kitty, given the chance. I’ve been surprised at your cleverness with a needle, though of course your workmanship has been more practical than
decorative.’

The girl was still gazing dreamily at the altar, at the brass cross and candlesticks set upon its surface and the stained-glass window above it. She was imagining herself kneeling here in a long
white dress and a veil with the handsome Jack Thorndyke kneeling beside her.

But it was Mrs Franklin standing beside her now saying, ‘Come along, Kitty, I’ve some flowers I’d like you to arrange in the font. Do you think you could manage
that?’

Reluctantly, Kitty tore herself away from her daydreaming and followed her mistress.

One day, Jack Thorndyke, she promised herself, one day I’ll get you up this aisle. You see if I don’t.

‘I hear that you’re to be the Harvest Queen, Kitty?’

Kitty was hanging her mistress’s coat in the wardrobe on their return from the church. ‘Yes, madam,’ she said after a pause. ‘That is, if it’s all right with
you?’

Mrs Franklin smiled. ‘Of course it is, my dear. Have you a pretty dress to wear for the occasion?’

‘Only me Sunday dress, madam.’

‘But that’s grey. Very suitable for churchgoing, of course. But hardly festive enough for such an occasion as Queen of the Harvest, Kitty.’

‘No, madam.’

Mrs Franklin sat before the mirror on her dressing table and removed the long pins from her hat. She lifted it from her head and held it out for Kitty to put back into the hatbox. Smoothing her
hair into place, Mrs Franklin stood up. ‘I do believe there’s a dress in Miss Miriam’s wardrobe that might do very well. It’s a shepherdess’s costume she wore to a
fancy dress ball last year.’ Kitty felt the woman appraising her from head to toe. ‘You’re a little more slender than my daughter, but I think it should fit you. Run along to her
room and ask her, my dear. Tell her that I gave my permission.’

‘Oh there you are, Clegg. At last!’

Kitty opened Miriam’s door to see her sitting at the dressing table, her hair straggling down her back in a long, wet tangle. She was grasping the scissors once more, but now she was
holding out a length of her hair to the side and hacking at the end of the strand with impatient snips.

‘Oh miss, don’t. You’ll spoil your lovely hair.’

The girl glared at her through the mirror. ‘Well, if I do, it’ll be
your
fault.’

Pursing her lips, Kitty held out her hand. ‘The scissors, miss, if you please.’

Miriam handed them to her and Kitty put them safely into the pocket of her apron. Then she took up a brush and comb and began to try to untangle the hair.

‘Ouch! That hurt.’

‘I’m sorry, but you’ve got it in a right state. It’s like a straw stack. Do sit still, miss, else it’ll pull all the more.’

For once Miriam did as she was asked and sat meekly while Kitty struggled to comb through the unruly hair. It was over an hour before she had smoothed out every knot and clipped the ends of the
hair to uniform neatness. ‘There,’ she said, standing back. ‘Now let me just get some warm towels and I’ll dry it for you.’

Miriam yawned. ‘Very well. But do hurry. We’re dining at Nunsthorpe Hall tonight and I want to look my best. I think I’ll wear the blue satin, Kitty.’

As she began to rub the girl’s long hair, Kitty said, ‘Miss, you know I’m to be the Harvest Queen, don’t you?’

Through the mirror their eyes met. ‘No, I didn’t,’ Miriam answered shortly.

‘Well, Jack Thorndyke’s asked me to be his Harvest Nell.’

‘Really? What a great honour for you.’ Her tone was heavy with sarcasm, but through the glass Miriam’s eyes were still watching her.

‘Your mam, I mean, your mother said I should ask you if I might wear your shepherdess costume.’

The girl shrugged her shoulders feigning lack of interest, but somehow Kitty knew that it was an act. She wondered briefly if Miriam could be a little envious that she, a lowly maidservant, had
been asked to be the Harvest Queen, but she dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

‘I suppose so.’ Then, her eyes sparkling with mischief, Miriam wagged her finger at Kitty. ‘But there’s one condition, if I do lend you my dress.’