Liverpool Taffy (27 page)

It was a long walk out to Ducie Street, but Biddy was a good, fast walker when she set her mind to it. She was passed by two trams, but told herself that since Mrs Gallagher had said she would expect her when she saw her, she was unlikely to take against her just because she was perhaps a little later than she expected. Also, Biddy was quite shrewd enough to realise that someone who wanted a live-in servant by Christmas could probably not afford to be too fussy – everyone
would prefer to spend the holiday at home or amongst friends rather than waiting on total strangers.

She reached Ducie Street at last and pulled the envelope out of her pocket. She glanced at the nearest house … not too far away, then. She walked on, found the right number and went up the short path to the door. For a moment she just stood there, suddenly sure she was making an awful mistake; she would be no good at this sort of thing, she had the wrong attitude. She had been nothing but a slave at Ma Kettle’s, now she would find herself equally powerless, equally put-upon.

She very nearly turned and fled – but then she remembered the man who had stolen her blanket and the one who had tried to steal her carpet bag. She remembered the little house in Paul Street bulging with sixteen souls whilst poor Mrs Bradley scratted round to find everyone food and clothing.

She even remembered the baby Ellen had just had which would make life even harder for the Bradleys.

It would not be fair to run back to Samson Court and put upon her friends.

So she stood her ground and knocked, disciplining herself not to flee when she heard, from within the house, someone approaching the front door.

It was a pretty, slim woman with light brown hair and steady grey eyes. She had very pale skin and looked calm and self-assured – very different from me, Biddy thought; I’m a bundle of nerves. But when the woman smiled at her she smiled back, because it was a friendly and attractive smile.

‘Good afternoon. Would you be Miss O’Shaughnessy? I’m Mrs Gallagher – do come in.’

Once in the hallway she held out her hand. ‘How do you do? I’m afraid I’m not very good at this, Miss O’Shaughnessy, but if you’ll come through to the kitchen perhaps you can watch whilst I prepare my husband’s tea and we’ll have a chat. It will give both of us some sort of idea …’ her voice trailed away. This is the kitchen.’

The kitchen was nice and overlooked the back garden. It was modern by most standards, as modern as the house, with kitchen units all round the walls, bright linoleum on the floor, and a modern gas cooker as well as a blackened stove which probably heated the hot water as well as warming the kitchen itself.

‘This is where most of the work’s done, so I’ve tried to make it as up to date and pleasant as possible,’ Mrs Gallagher said. ‘As I’m sure Mrs Edmonds told you, there are only three of us, but we do entertain from time to time and we have quite a large dining-room.’ She smiled at Biddy. ‘Sit down, Miss O’Shaughnessy. Do you have a letter for me?’

Feeling her face go hot, Biddy guiltily produced the envelope, looking a little the worse for wear, from her pocket. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said apologetically. ‘This is the first time I’ve applied for a job in domestic service and I’m really rather nervous.’ She had decided, on the spur of the moment, that she would much rather Mrs Gallagher knew the truth. That way, at least she was less likely to be disappointed if Biddy did not come up to expectations.

‘Yes, so Mrs Edmonds says in the letter,’ Mrs Gallagher said, having read the short note. ‘I’ll take you round the house, Miss O’Shaughnessy, show you the room you would have if you decided to take the position, and give you some idea of the work involved. I’m sure Mrs Edmonds told you that we have a woman in three times a week to do the rough work and a man who does the garden, cleans the boots and shoes and so on. But all the rest of the work will, I’m afraid, fall on your shoulders.’

‘I don’t mind hard work,’ Biddy said. ‘But I’m not sure my cooking is good enough … Mrs Edmonds said you needed a cook general …’

‘I do most of the cooking myself,’ Mrs Gallagher said gently. ‘I enjoy cooking. But such things as peeling vegetables, preparing meat, making strawberry and raspberry preserve in the summer … things like that are easier with the work shared.’

‘So long as I’m told what to do,’ Biddy murmured. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m being difficult, but …’

‘I think you’re being sensible,’ Mrs Gallagher assured her. ‘Now just follow me and we’ll do the rounds…. You can see the garden through the kitchen window, though there isn’t much to see at this time of year, and only cabbages in the kitchen garden, which is right down the end, furthest away from the house.’

As she talked she was leading Biddy across a square hall and she paused outside the first door she reached. ‘The dining-room.’

It was a large room with an enormous table and a very grand mahogany sideboard. There were a dozen dining chairs
upholstered in red leather, some pictures on the walls, a display of silver dishes on the sideboard and a large mirror behind them.

‘You’d dust and clean generally in here, and help to serve food when we’ve guests,’ Mrs Gallagher said, leading the way to the next room. ‘Sitting-room.’

Another pleasant, large room, cluttered with chintz-covered chairs, occasional tables, several lamps, a wireless set and a quantity of strange objects plus a mass of coloured paper, whilst three young ladies, all aged about fourteen or fifteen, sprawled around a low central table on which was set out a large bowl of fruit, another of nuts, a jar of sticky paste and several pairs of scissors.

‘My daughter, Elizabeth, the one with the plait, and a couple of her friends.’ Mrs Gallagher raised her voice. ‘Liz, you said making Christmas decorations, not eating all the nuts I’ve bought! Mind you clear up the shells.’

Liz of the long, light brown plait turned and grinned at Biddy. She was a pretty girl, lively and bright, wearing a deep pink woollen dress with a rather scruffy white apron over it.

‘Sorry, Mam,’ she said. ‘We will clear up – and we
are
making Christmas decorations … see those beautiful chains and silver fir cones?… only it’s hungry work, so we have raided the nuts rather, I’m afraid.’

‘Well, never mind, there’s still another couple of days before
the
day, so I suppose I can buy some more.’ Mrs Gallagher withdrew, shutting the door gently behind her, and crossed the hall once more. She opened another door. ‘My husband’s study … not too large, and he’s pretty tidy. He works for the newspaper, so he needs a telephone in here and we have another in the hall. Also we have one by our bed, because sometimes the newspaper needs him at night. He’s a tidy type, my dear old Stuart, but he does hate things being moved, so since we don’t want him having an apoplexy I always advise anyone cleaning in here to avoid so much as touching the papers all over the desk and if there is a pile of papers on the floor, just to leave them. He’s very sweet tempered really, and extremely patient, but now and then he does
roar
, which frightens my charlady, Mrs Wrexham, dreadfully. At first she used to cower in the kitchen biting her nails and trembling, but she’s grown accustomed now and takes no more notice than I do. Now that’s all that need worry you down here; that room,’ she gestured to her left, ‘is a small downstairs cloakroom and the other door is just a glory hole for tennis racquets, boots, sleds and so on. Now we’ll go upstairs and take a look at the bedrooms.’

There were five bedrooms on the first floor and two attic rooms. The bedrooms seemed the height of luxury to Biddy, especially Elizabeth’s. It was all decorated in pink and white, with the prettiest curtains and a lovely, thick white rug, and Elizabeth had her own gas fire and a gas-ring, too, so that she could make herself a hot drink whilst she was up here studying.

‘We want her to be comfortable and to consider study a pleasure,’ Mrs Gallagher said simply. ‘She’s a clever girl, but she gets lonely, sometimes. And I must admit she makes a lot of work and does throw her things around rather, besides filling the house with young people and coming in for meals at odd hours … dashing upstairs and traipsing mud all through the place. However! This is our room, the dressing room’s next door. I always do our rooms so you won’t have to come in here
unless I need a hand with something. The other rooms on this floor are just spare bedrooms, though they’ll be in use this Christmas. I have a – a younger sister, Mrs Lilac Prescott she is now; she and her husband and their small children will be coming to stay over Christmas which is why I really am rather keen to get someone before then.’ She looked ruefully over at Biddy, her eyes smiling though her mouth was serious. ‘My sister is a dear girl and will do all she can to help, but her twins … well, they’re really the naughtiest little boys you could imagine … does this put you off, Miss O’Shaughnessy?’

For the first time since she had entered the house, Biddy laughed. She liked Mrs Gallagher, she liked the sound of the sister, the awful twins, Liz and her friends thundering through the house scattering mud, Mr Gallagher
roaring
if his papers were touched. Even Mrs Wrexham the charlady, cowering in a corner and biting her nails because ‘the master’ was cross, sounded nice somehow. There was a cheerful informality about the Gallagher household which appealed to Biddy.

‘No, Mrs Gallagher, it doesn’t put me off, it makes me think I could be very happy here,’ she said therefore. ‘May I see the attic rooms, please?’

‘Oh mercy, I always said honesty was the best policy,’ Mrs Gallagher exclaimed. ‘The rooms are both yours … I mean they go with the job, since you might yet turn me down! Follow me.’

They scampered up the attic stairs like a couple of kids, Biddy thought afterwards, and there were two small white doors, one to the left, one to the right, with a square landing in between. Intriguing doors, Biddy decided, staring at them. What was behind them?

‘Bedroom,’ Mrs Gallagher said, flinging open the left-hand door. ‘Gas fire, in case it’s cold, which it jolly well is right now. Single bed, plenty of blankets, a chair, a rug and of course wardrobe, chest of drawers … all the usual offices.’

‘Very nice,’ Biddy murmured. It was a delightful room, truly delightful, with every evidence of thought-fulness and welcome.

‘Yes, it is nice, isn’t it? Liz said she wouldn’t mind moving up here, so we guessed a girl could be happy, here. And the living-room.’ She opened the right-hand door and gestured Biddy past her. ‘What do you think?’

It was charming. The low window was curtained in warm red velvet and the rug was red with garlands of flowers. A small dining-table and two upright chairs stood in an alcove whilst in the main body of the room two easy chairs were set out before the little gas fire, a gas-ring just like the one in Elizabeth’s room stood beside it and three pictures hung on the walls, all of them cheerful country scenes.

‘It – it’s perfect … absolutely perfect,’ Biddy stammered. ‘And this is all for your … your servant?’

‘For you, if you would like to work for us,’ Mrs Gallagher said gently. ‘You see, Miss O’Shaughnessy, when I was your age I – I didn’t have very much and I did work hard. To have a room like this would have been very precious to me, it would have made me very happy. So now I hope this room will make some young woman very happy too.’

‘Oh, it will! And …. and I can come and work for you, and have these two rooms?’

‘Yes … but we haven’t talked about money, yet,’ Mrs Gallagher said, smiling and pink-cheeked. Biddy’s rapture had obviously thrilled her. ‘Would ten shillings a week suit you? It doesn’t seem much, but it’s all found, and it’s what Mrs Edmonds recommended. If you can’t manage …’

‘On ten shilling a
week
, and not having to buy food? Oh, I’ll manage just fine, Mrs Gallagher,’ Biddy said, her tongue tripping over the words in her excitement. ‘Can I start tomorrow? Can I move my things in then?’

‘Tomorrow would suit me admirably, especially if you could manage quite early in the morning, since we’re meeting the Prescotts off the London train at noon,’ Mrs Gallagher said, her eyes sparkling. ‘Oh, how wonderful to have help in the house again, with the evil twins on their way and Christmas almost upon us. You will not regret coming to work for us, Miss O’Shau … my dear, what is your first name?’

‘Oh, I’m Bridget, but everyone calls me Biddy,’ Biddy said joyfully. ‘I’ll be here by nine, Mrs Gallagher, if that will suit?’

‘Admirably,’ Mrs Gallagher said. She led the way down the attic stairs. ‘I feel sure, Biddy, that you and I are going to get along famously!’

‘I’d like working here even without the rooms,’ Biddy said, following close. ‘But with those rooms for my own – it’ll be heaven, Mrs Gallagher!’

After Biddy O’Shaughnessy had left, positively bubbling with happiness, Nellie Gallagher sat in her kitchen, looking a little ruefully around her.

She liked Biddy, had liked her on sight, so that was good. She thought they would work well together, which was better. Because the last girl, Peggy Pound, had been a right little monkey. Idle, none too clean, an inventive liar … a bad influence all round who had made a deal of trouble before Nellie had managed to admit to herself that Peggy would have to leave.

The trouble was, Peggy was an orphan, as Nellie had been – still was, Nellie supposed ruefully now, sitting at her own kitchen table and pouring herself another cup of tea, since marriage and a daughter of her own did not endow her with parents. So because Peggy was an orphan, from the very same orphanage in which Nellie and her adopted sister, Lilac, had first met, Nellie had felt it incumbent upon her to try extra hard with Peggy.

But it had been trying wasted, because all Peggy ever thought about was having fun and doing as little work as possible. She had decided that carting water up two flights of stairs in order to wash her person was too much trouble, so she stopped washing. She seldom made the family a meal and when she did she burned more than she cooked. She had disliked Mrs Wrexham and told lies about her to Nellie, and she was jealous of Liz and frequently tried to get her into trouble with either parent, she was not fussy which.