The Downstairs Maid (27 page)

‘Oh, Pa …’ she whispered, her throat catching. ‘Why did you have to die? I loved you so much …’

Her life seemed to have gone so fast up to the point where she’d left home to live at the manor. She hadn’t realised how lucky she was, often resenting those cold, wet days when she’d sat outside houses on the cart and waited for her father to return with an armful of treasures. Emily had longed for a different life and she was happy here – but just for a while she wished she could go back to the time when her Pa was well and always laughing at her.

She remembered the good days when he’d done well and bought her fish and chips in a newspaper. She’d sat beside him as he drove home at a leisurely pace, eating the delicious food and smiling and waving to the friends they met on the journey. They seemed sunlit, idyllic days and she forgot about the cold mists that crept over the Fen roads, soaking them both through and making her wish herself at home by the fire.

Pa wouldn’t want her to feel miserable. Emily dashed the tears from her face and then washed it in cool water from her jug. She was daft sitting here moping. Mrs Hattersley would be rushed off her feet and the best thing Emily could do was to go down and help her.

A knock at her door made her stiffen and it was a moment before she said, ‘Come in.’

The door opened and June entered. ‘I’m so sorry, Emily,’ she said. ‘I heard about your father. If there is anything at all I can do please ask.’

‘No, I don’t think so. He’s gone. No one can bring him back.’

‘Death is so final,’ June agreed. ‘I was engaged to be married before I came here. My fiancé died two days before our wedding of a fever. I had no idea he was ill.’

‘I’m so sorry. Did you love him very much?’

‘Yes. I never had any desire to marry anyone else.’ June smiled at her. ‘So you see, I understand how it feels to lose someone – and I wanted you to know that we are all your friends here.’

‘Thank you.’

Emily was close to tears again as the other woman went out, closing the door softly behind her. She’d never guessed that June had a secret, but the fact that she had been willing to share it to comfort Emily made her feel she was with friends and some of her loneliness eased.

‘You will want time off for the funeral,’ Mrs Hattersley said the next morning. She had bread baking in the oven and the smell was delicious. ‘Shall I ask for the whole day for you, Emily?’

‘No. I’ll only need a few hours. I shall come back here as soon as the service is over.’

Emily had drawn her luxuriant dark hair back into a tight knot at the nape of her neck, fastening it with combs and pins. There were shadows beneath her eyes and her nose looked red, because of the tears she’d shed on waking.

‘You won’t go home afterwards?’

‘I’ve nothing to say to anyone that can’t keep for another day. I think my uncle is staying at the house with Ma. I shall never enter that house again while he is there.’

‘Do you mind if I ask why?’

Emily hesitated, and then told her – including the part about her mother blaming her for her uncle’s attack.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Mrs Hattersley nodded to herself. ‘That settles it then, Emily. I was wondering if I should come with you. After what you’ve told me I wouldn’t think of letting you go alone.’

‘Are you sure you can take time off?’

‘We’ll prepare dinner before we go and get a move on when we return. If they have to wait upstairs for once that’s too bad. I’m coming with you, and there’s an end of it.’

Mrs Hattersley’s plump face reflected her distress and her voice wobbled; her eyes a little watery as if she was battling against tears. Emily’s throat caught because she knew that the cook was her friend and was determined to look out for her.

‘You’ve all been so kind. I don’t know what I should have done if Mr Nicolas hadn’t looked out for me. He handled everything.’

‘Now that was good of him. It is very like Mr Nicolas. We shall miss him now he’s gone off to join his unit. He’s joined the Royal Flying Corps – that’s the flyboys to you and me, Emily.’

Emily’s heart caught at the news, because she didn’t think she could bear it if anything happened to Mr Nicolas. He had comforted her when she was told of her father’s death, holding her as she wept. She knew she could never see him as just her employer’s son again; he was special to her, though of course she would never let him see it. He was a member of the family and she was just a kitchen girl – but that didn’t stop her liking him more than any man she’d ever met.

‘Everyone will be devastated if anything happens to him,’ she said.

Mrs Hattersley looked grave. ‘War is a bad business, Emily. I wish it hadn’t happened. There will be a lot of young men going off to Belgium and some of them will never return.’

‘I shall pray Mr Nicolas isn’t one of them.’

‘We must hope he comes through safe. You’ll be wearing grey or black for the funeral I expect.’

‘I don’t have a black dress.’

‘The upper parlour maids wear a black uniform. Mrs Marsh might allow you to have one so you could wear it to the funeral.’

‘Thank you. That would be just right – if she would allow it.’

‘I think she might. Now go and make a start on the vegetables. Sitting around moping never helped anyone.’

Emily got up and went through to the scullery, putting all thoughts of Mr Nicolas from her mind. She was happy to work. It helped to take her mind off the fact that her father had died alone and that she would never see him again.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Pa,’ she said and a tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed a hand over her cheek, dislodging wisps of springy hair that hung about her face despite all her efforts to restrain it. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you when you needed me.’

Emily felt frozen throughout the service. Clouds had obscured the sun as they arrived at the ancient church, but a thin ray filtered through the beautiful stained glass windows, sending spirals of colour on to the worn stone floor. She sat on the hard wooden pew behind her mother and uncle, with Mrs Hattersley by her side. The rest of the church was filled with friends and villagers. Joe Carter had been a popular man and a lot of voices swelled the choir when the hymns were sung.

Emily’s mother was sniffing the whole time and her uncle was comforting her, for all the world as if he cared about what had happened. Bitterness swirled inside Emily as she remembered the day he’d tried to rape her and then punched her father in the stomach when he stopped him. If Harry Standen hadn’t arrived, he might have killed her father. She would always be grateful to Harry for being there at the right time and she would never forgive her uncle. Once during the service he turned his head to look at her but she stared through him and his gaze dropped.

Afterwards, when they followed the coffin outside, Emily was glad of Mrs Hattersley standing beside her. She could smell the sharp tang of freshly dug earth from the grave and the faint scent of decaying flowers from another grave nearby. The small graveyard was neat and these graves were set beneath the branches of a tree. Emily thought it was peaceful and hoped her father could see from wherever he was now, and would know she loved him.

Emily fought her tears as the vicar intoned the blessing and then Ma stepped forward to throw some dirt on the coffin. She was wearing black and weeping onto her brother’s shoulder as he supported her. Emily threw a flower Tomas had picked from the gardens at Priorsfield Manor.

After everyone had melted away leaving just the family and Mrs Hattersley by the grave, Ma looked at her daughter.

‘Are you coming back to the house?’

‘I do not wish to come back while …’ Emily looked at her uncle.

‘Then you won’t be coming home again. I thought to tell you in private but now you’ve made your attitude clear I might as well say it now. Your father’s will leaves everything that matters to me. There’s an envelope for you with his lawyer – and he’s given that pile of junk in Ely to the person who works for him.’

‘Pa left Christopher all his stock in the shop?’ Emily frowned. ‘What about the stuff in the barns? Pa told me it was mine.’

‘It was worthless and I had someone clear it out, because I’m selling up and the next owner won’t want that junk.’

‘You’ve sold it already?’ Emily was angry. ‘It belonged to me.’

‘Well it’s gone now and most of it burned, as it should have been long ago. I got ten pounds for what was in the cabinet and I’m keeping five pounds of that.’

Emily felt the rage boiling inside her, but she wasn’t going to argue over money when Pa was lying in his grave, even though she knew Pa’s stock had been worth nearer a hundred pounds.

‘Keep it,’ she said and looked at Ma. She could see guilt in her eyes and knew that she’d lied about the amount she’d got for the stock, but somehow she didn’t care. What did money matter when her father was dead?

Ma glared at her. ‘I’m not paying rent for that shop a day longer than I need. Derek has given notice to the landlord and we’ll be finished with it at the end of the week. I’m going to run a pub in Ely and I need all my money for the lease.’

‘So you’re just throwing Christopher out of work?’

‘He can clear that rubbish out of the yard and sell it in the market. Besides, a man of his age should be joining up.’

‘He has already done so,’ Emily said, holding on to her temper because it was unseemly to quarrel with her father lying in his open grave. She looked at Derek. ‘Is
he
going to join up too?’

‘Your uncle has flat feet. They wouldn’t take him.’

‘He’s a bully and a coward,’ Emily said, the bitterness so deep in her that she could taste it.

‘You deserve a good hiding. Clear off before I slap you.’

Emily glanced back at her. The violence of her feelings was such that her mother’s eyes dropped and for a moment she looked frightened, but then she stuck her head in the air and turned to take hold of Derek’s arm.

‘Take no notice, Emily.’ Mrs Hattersley laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Now isn’t the right time and it won’t bring him back.’

‘Nothing can do that,’ Emily said, but the gall was in her throat and she almost choked on the words. Her father had worked hard to build his stock, and he’d meant it for her. Her mother had stolen her inheritance yet again, but worse than that was the way she’d clung to Derek when she knew what he’d tried to do to her. Emily almost wished she’d gone to the police with her suspicions when Carla was murdered – but it was too late now. Besides, she’d never been sure …

Walking away with her friend, she could feel the sting of tears but she kept her head in the air. She was blinded by her grief and almost walked past the man standing just outside the lych-gate. Only when he spoke her name did she notice him.

‘Emily. I had to come. I’m so very sorry. Joe was a good man.’

‘Thank you.’ She blinked very fast. ‘It was good of you to come, Harry. I know Pa would have appreciated it.’

‘We were friends. I know I let you down …’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Emily managed a wan smile. ‘I know you’ve married and I’m glad for you.’

‘I wish things had been different.’ He looked so wretched that Emily felt sorry for him. She thought that if she’d been at home and engaged to Harry, she could have stopped her mother stealing what was hers. It was just the same as when Grandfather had left her a silver watch. Ma had taken that and sold it; she’d also sold Uncle Albert’s ring and now all Pa’s stock from the barns. If he hadn’t left the envelope at the lawyer’s she would no doubt have taken that too.

Ma was walking away with Derek. Emily didn’t look at her. She never wanted to see either of them again.

‘Oh, look,’ Mrs Hattersley said as they emerged on to the path outside the church. ‘There’s Mr Jonathan waiting to take us home. Now, isn’t that kind of him?’

‘Yes, very kind.’

Jonathan got out of the car as they approached and opened the back door for them to get in.

‘Lizzie was adamant that you should not have to walk home,’ he said and smiled. ‘Since I had some business this way earlier I was happy to wait for you.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Emily said as she slid into the back seat. ‘You’ve all been more than kind.’

‘Mrs Hattersley tells us we have a treasure in you, Emily,’ he replied. ‘Would you like to sit in the front with me, ma’am?’

‘I’ll sit in the back with Emily, sir.’ Mrs Hattersley climbed in the back and nodded at her. ‘Now this is a rare treat.’

Emily made an effort to be normal. ‘Mr Nicolas took me to the infirmary in his tourer – but this is very special. What do you call this automobile, sir?’

‘It’s a Daimler,’ he said and she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Or to give it its proper title, an Austro-Daimler. It’s an Austrian car, though at first the factory originated in Germany. I’m not sure I would dare to drive it at the moment if they were still part of the German parent company.’

‘But it’s just a vehicle. It doesn’t mean you like Germans.’

‘I used to have some Austrian friends at college,’ Jonathan said as he drew away from the church. ‘They were very pleasant people. This war makes nonsense of friendships. If I should meet my friends in battle I should be expected to kill them. I think that is why Nicolas joined the RFC – at least in the air you don’t see people as people, just as a target.’

‘Have you heard from him, sir?’ Mrs Hattersley asked.

‘I believe Lizzie may have had a letter.’

‘You spoke of meeting your friends in battle – may I ask if you intend to join up, sir?’

‘If only I were free to do so, Mrs Hattersley. I feel it my duty but my father and grandmother insist my first duty is to the estate. We have to find a way of growing more food – which may mean ploughing up some of our lawns.’

‘You never would, sir!’

‘Only if it becomes necessary.’ He glanced in the mirror at Emily. ‘I hope everything went well for you today?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Emily said stiffly. Her tears had dried now but she was hurting inside and Mr Jonathan wasn’t like Mr Nicolas. He was being polite but he didn’t care in the way his brother had. She wished Mr Nicolas was with them now but it was stupid to let herself long for something that could never be. Emily had to remember her place, because otherwise it could lead to more heartbreak.