The Lost And Found Girl (21 page)

Boyd bought bread and cheese, and they both tore at it hungrily and then drank water at a horse trough. Boyd asked directions to Home Farm and Daisy’s heart sank as she looked at the steep hill they had to climb next. She didn’t want to complain to Boyd or hold him back so she gritted her teeth and persevered.

They set off towards the high brick walls capped with stone that surrounded Redfern Park. Daisy’s legs ached and she felt sore and sticky. The wall went on for miles until they came to the fine park entrance and a pair of stone stags at bay surmounting two high stone pillars. She peered through the enormous ornate wrought-iron gates and saw a lodge, a miniature stone castle with turrets, set back in trees.

‘That’s a wide track. It’s as big as the turnpike.’

‘It’s a driveway for carriages going to the Abbey.’

‘Where is the Abbey?’

‘Behind the trees, I suppose.’

‘Who lives here, Boyd?’

‘Lord Redfern. He owns everything around here and has a coal field under the ground. They say that’s where his wealth comes from.’

‘Is it much further to the farm?’

‘I don’t know, Daisy,’ he replied irritably. ‘I don’t know the answers to everything.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry but I’m tired as well as you, and that gamekeeper said the farm was on the side furthest from the village. We’ll have to go round the park.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ she muttered. ‘Can we stop a while? I can’t keep up with you.’

He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Wait until we’re out of sight of the gates.’

They had not progressed much further when the sound of a horse’s hooves galloping up the hill caused Boyd to further quicken his step. ‘Come on,’ he urged.

But Daisy stopped and turned. ‘Who is he, Boyd?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know but he’s gentry so come away!’

Daisy seemed rooted to the spot and continued to gaze. The rider reined in his mount at the gate and leaned forward to grasp a bell pull. Daisy heard the clang from inside the gates. As he waited for them to be opened he noticed her staring and cantered over.

She held her breath. Were they in trouble for loitering by the gates? He was young and fresh faced with dark hair and eyes, but dressed in gentleman’s clothes with a tall hat, kid gloves and high boots. Everything about him signified wealth and position and Daisy’s eyes, in spite of her misgivings, shone at his splendour. She had never seen anyone so handsome and could not take her eyes off him. Did he live at the Abbey, she wondered?

Her lips were slightly parted as she wavered between wanting a closer look or running for cover as Boyd suggested. She usually did as Boyd said because he was older and wiser than she but at that moment her legs would not move. The gentleman was going to speak to her! Where was Boyd? Had he disappeared into the trees? Remembering her manners, she closed her mouth, lowered her inquisitive eyes to the horse’s hooves and dipped awkwardly into a curtsey.

‘Who are you?’ the gentleman rider demanded.

He couldn’t be as old as Boyd, she thought, yet he spoke to them as though he was their father and with such authority that Daisy shrank into silence.

Thankfully, Boyd retraced his steps and arrived breathless by her side. He gave a deferential bow. ‘We are South Riding folk, sir,’ Boyd replied.

‘What is your business here?’

‘We are on our way to join the harvesting at Home Farm. I have heard they need hands.’

The young gentleman seemed satisfied with Boyd’s response. He looked at Daisy steadily for a moment or two so she felt compelled to repeat her curtsey and mutter, ‘Sir.’ Then they all heard the gates creak and whine open. He barked, ‘Carry on,’ turned his horse around and acknowledged a servant standing to attention. Then he spurred the horse to a gallop down the long rutted
driveway. The servant secured the gates and returned to the lodge.

‘Are we in trouble?’ Daisy asked.

‘I don’t think so. But you never know with gentry. They make their own rules. Come on, the sooner we get there the sooner you can rest.’

Daisy pressed on, forcing one foot in front of the other until they came to a smaller entrance where the gates stood open. ‘This must be the way to the farm.’

‘Listen, there’s a cart coming.’

Sure enough a farm cart trundled around the curve of the wall carrying cages of live fowl.

‘Are you going to the Abbey, sir,’ Boyd asked.

‘’Tis t’on’y place I know along here. Are you heading that way?’

‘We are.’

‘Hop aboard.’ He leaned over and offered his grimy, calloused hand to Daisy. She swung up beside him and clenched her teeth against the pain as she sat down. Boyd settled beside her and they exchanged grateful smiles.

‘Which part do you want, me ducks?’ the driver asked Daisy.

Her eyebrows shot up. She had no idea.

‘Never been there afore? It’s a village in itself behind the Abbey. Have either of you got a letter?’

Daisy shook her head and Boyd answered, ‘We’d heard they need housemaids.’

‘Aye well, they’ll not let you in the Abbey but one of the under-housekeepers might take you on in the servants’ quarters. What about you, young man?’

‘Harvest work, sir.’

‘You’re in luck. They want the corn in before the weather turns. I’ll tek you over there.’

‘Well, I’d like to see where my sister’s going first.’

‘I haven’t time to hang about, lad. She’ll not be sent away at this time of day. She’ll be tekken care of fer t’night.’

The cart emerged from the trees and Daisy had her first glimpse of the rear of the Abbey in the distance. ‘Go with him, Boyd,’ Daisy urged. ‘I’m a grown-up, I can look after myself.’

‘She’ll be with the women, lad,’ the carter said. ‘They’re strict about that sort o’ thing at the Abbey.’

‘Try and get to church on Sunday,’ Boyd said.

‘That’ll be the big ’un back there in the village,’ the carter told them. ‘You’ll likely be off in time for evensong.’

‘Send me a message if you can’t get there,’ Boyd added.

‘I shall,’ she replied emphatically. ‘Go and find work on the farm.’

‘I won’t be far away,’ Boyd reassured her.

The carter jolted through another gate in a smaller wall and pulled up outside a long low outbuilding. ‘Go through that door and ask to see whoever’s in charge. She’ll find you summat, like as not.’

Boyd clambered down and gave her a quick hug as he lifted her off the cart. ‘You look a bit flushed,’ he commented.

‘It’s the sun,’ Daisy explained, but she was feeling feverish. She put it down to fatigue and hunger.

‘See you in church on Sunday.’

She nodded and waved him away, keeping a smile on her face until he had stopped looking back. She felt decidedly ill. Her drawers had stuck to her behind again and she dreaded walking as the movement would rip the calico from her skin and restart the bleeding. A collection of stone buildings and wooden barns arranged themselves neatly in rows and squares creating dark narrow alleys overshadowed by the rear façade
of the stone Abbey. It was high and it was wide with three neat rows of sash windows rising to a parapet and slated roof. Daisy tipped back her head. There was another row of windows behind the parapet.

Cautiously she put one foot in front of the other. As she approached the door, several women of varying ages dressed in grey gowns covered in grubby white aprons spilled out of the door with their caps in their hands. Leaning against the rough stone walls of the low building, they looked as tired as she felt. Daisy took a deep breath and stood as straight as she could.

‘Good – good evening to you,’ she said. ‘Is one of you in charge?’

They were taking off their aprons and undoing the top buttons of their high-necked gowns. One sat down on the step of a mounting stone to unlace her boots. They looked at her without much curiosity which made Daisy feel more confident.

‘Not one of us. Try inside.’

Daisy swallowed and stepped over the threshold into a gloomy low-ceilinged room. It was a mess. The remains of a meal were scattered over a big wooden table and a few women had laid their heads down on its grainy surface, apparently asleep. One of them lifted her head and muttered, ‘You’ve missed tea, but there’s some ale in the jug.’

‘Is anybody in charge?’

‘You’ll find the under-housekeeper in the office. It’s through there.’

As her eyes became used to the gloom she noticed an open door at the other end of the room and purposefully walked across the room and through it. No one attempted to stop her. She found herself in a long dark passage lit only by
vestiges of light coming through glass partitions on one side. She peered into the first room. It was a scullery the size of a kitchen and a large kitchen at that. A door opposite opened and a woman walked out in front of her.

‘Please, ma’am, are you the under-housekeeper?’ Daisy asked.

The woman stopped in her tracks. She wore a dark grey gown with white collar and cuffs, and an attractive lace cap with a dark grey band on it. ‘I am. I’ve not seen you before. Are you the new girl?’

‘I suppose so,’ Daisy answered. ‘I – I haven’t been taken on yet.’

‘Nobody told me you were arriving tonight. Come into the office.’

The woman disappeared as quickly as she had emerged and Daisy followed her into a small sitting room with a fireplace, a table and chairs and some bookcases.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Daisy Higgins, ma’am.’

The woman sat down at the table, turned up the oil lamp and shuffled through some papers. ‘There isn’t anything about you here. Show me your letter.’

‘I haven’t got one.’

‘Well, where’ve you come from, then?’

‘I’ve come with my brother. He’s helping with the harvest at Home Farm.’

‘I mean, where was your last position?’

Daisy looked alarmed and the woman gave an impatient shudder.

‘I wanted to be with my brother,’ she explained.

‘You mean you’ve just turned up with him?’

‘I asked for the person in charge and they sent me through here.’

The woman grimaced and clicked her teeth impatiently. ‘And you say your brother is at Home Farm? Well, I can’t do anything with you at this time of the day. We’ve had a houseful to feed for some politicking dinner and everybody’s tired out. I’ll find you a bed for the night and sort you out tomorrow.’

She went to her door and called out, ‘Brown!’ A few moments later a mature woman dressed in the same grey as the maids appeared, rolling down her sleeves and buttoning the cuffs. She was about the same age as Maltie’s mother, Daisy thought, but she had a sterner countenance.

‘This is Daisy Higgins,’ the under-housekeeper said. ‘Take her with you for tonight and bring her back here to my office first thing tomorrow.’

‘Very well, madam,’ Brown responded with a curtsey.

Daisy copied her and said, ‘Thank you, madam.’

Outside in the cobbled courtyard Brown said, ‘I’m Annie. Have you got your uniform?’

Daisy shook her head.

‘Well, you can’t start until your mother sends your uniform. If any of the housekeepers saw you, there’d be trouble.’

‘Oh.’ It didn’t sound as though she could be a housemaid at Redfern Abbey after all. But Daisy felt so poorly that she was past caring. It was already getting dark and she was exhausted. She was hot and feverish. Her bottom hurt, her feet hurt, and now her head was beginning to hurt.

‘Where are your things?’

‘I – I – my brother took them with him.’

Annie was silent for a minute as they walked across the cobbles to another low stone building. ‘I can lend you a nightgown,’ she said finally. ‘This is where we sleep.’

‘I thought servants always slept in attics.’

‘I don’t know what folk have been telling you about here. But my brigade hardly ever go inside the Abbey. We look after the servants’ quarters.’ Annie opened the door into a dormitory of about a dozen beds in two rows with a fireplace at one end and three wash stands at the other. ‘There’s no one to fetch and carry for us.’

Daisy stared at the dormitory. Several candles burned on small cabinets that stood beside each bed. Two maids were already in their beds asleep and one was washing at the stand. A small group was sitting on the bed nearest the fireplace talking quietly with their heads close together.

Annie led her to a neatly made bed at the end nearest the wash stands. ‘Don’t put your feet on the bed with your boots on,’ she said and went to rummage in a wooden box. She returned with a bundle of white cotton. ‘That should fit you and there’s a clean drying cloth, too. You’ll find soap on the washstand and a chamber pot in the cabinet.’

‘Thank you, Annie.’

‘Get up as soon as you hear the bell.’ Annie went and sat on the bed opposite her and began to unlace her boots.

Exhausted, Daisy did the same and then unbuttoned her gown and struggled out of it. She decided to wait until the end washstand in the darkest corner was free so that she could wash the sore skin on her bottom. Without a candle no one would see. She undid the tapes on her petticoat and stepped out of it.

When she straightened she found that Annie had appeared by her side.

‘What happened to you?’ Annie demanded. ‘You’ve got blood on your drawers.’

‘Oh – I – I – it must be my courses.’

‘Not that much, dearie. I think you’d better tell me.’

Daisy shook her head in the gloom. ‘I just want to have a wash.’

‘Well, when did you last wash them drawers?’

Daisy was too tired to argue with her and Annie went on, ‘Some o’ that blood is fresh and I’ve only once seen a pair o’ drawers like that in here before and the poor lass had miscarried wi’out telling anyone.’

‘It’s not that,’ Daisy muttered wearily.

‘I won’t have whores in here, corrupting the others with their tales.’

Daisy was horrified. She had never been accused of being
that
before and whispered fiercely, ‘I’m not a whore.’ One or two of the other maids were looking in her direction with interest. ‘Please, Annie, I just want to sleep. I’ll be fine by the morning.’

‘I’m not so sure. Summat’s up wi’ yer.’

‘I’m – I’m sore, that’s all.’

‘You have been whoring!’ Annie sounded shocked.