The Windsor Girl (2 page)

Chapter
Three

Monday morning arrived and Maggie awoke to the ‘knocker up’, tapping on her bedroom window with his long pole.

‘
Five o’clock, all a windy and a blowing’, he sang out.

‘Thanks Jack.  I’m awake’, shouted Maggie.  She turned to look at Ellie lying next to her, still sleeping despite the shouting.  A wisp of fair hair lay on her face and the rest of it billowed over the pillow, in waves of white gold. 
Maggie wondered, at the sight of her, and could hardly believe that this lovely creature was, indeed, her daughter.

‘Well
you didn’t get you good looks from me, my love.  And you father was no prince.  Yet there you are as beautiful as any princess’.

As she whispered these words she was suddenly afraid that Ellie might hear her and quickly jumped out of bed.

‘Come on Ellie.  Time to get up.  You can’t lie in bed all day’.

She dressed hurriedly, shivering in the bitter cold of the bedroom, and then made her way down the narrow stairs almost bumping into Thomas, who was already up and about.

‘The fire’s lit and the kettle’s on the hob Mam’.

‘
Eh! you a good lad when you want to be, Son’.

‘Aye, and I could have got
you up this morning, an all.  I don’t know why you paid Jack to knock you up when you know I get up early anyway’.

‘Well, I had to be sure today Thomas, cause
it’s important’.

‘Anyway Mam, I hope our lass gets the job.  I’m off now.  I’ll see
you for breakfast, well before school time’.  With this, he put up the collar of his jacket and went out of the door, leaving Maggie washing her face at the stone sink.

By
eight o’clock, Maggie had washed the clothes that Ellie had worn yesterday, dried them in front of the fire and was now heating the flat iron, on the hob, ready for pressing the long black skirt. 

The boys had eaten their customary slice of toast, with the remaining marmalade, and were just about ready for school.

Ellie was busy brushing her hair and in the morning light it shone like silk.

‘I feel nervous Mam.  I’m scared of going out to work’, she said, knowing in her heart that it would make no difference.

‘Don’t be soft Ellie; no-one’s going to bite you’.

‘But Mam, I won’t know what to do’,

‘Course you will lass, it’s only like the work you do here.  It’s nothing to worry about’.

Ellie was sure she would be sent home in disgrace.

The boys went off to school and left Maggie and Ellie to get on with their preparations.

‘
Eh! Ellie, you look a picture’, said Maggie as she inspected her daughter.

Ellie looked at her black skirt.  Every fold of the skirt had been, meticulously, ironed and the blouse had been scrubbed thoroughly, and pressed with the same care.  She would be wearing her mother’s shawl, which was in better condition than her own.

‘I think I’ll do’, she said, with a hint of a smile.

She was surprised when her mother handed her a small box.

‘What’s this Mam?’

‘Open it and see’.

‘But it’s not my birthday or anything?’

‘Go on,
you silly devil, when did you ever get a birthday present in a box?’

It was true.  Neither Ellie, nor the boys, had ever had a birthday present, as such, just a couple of sweets or a rare piece of fruit.  She opened the box and peered inside.  Lying there, resting in a mat of cotton wool, was a silver chain, which had something attached to it.  On taking it out of the box, Ellie was surprised to see that it was a pendent, and turning it around, she saw that it spelled out ‘Ellen’.

‘Oh Mam.  My proper name too.  Where did you get it?  Oh it’s lovely, thank you’. 

She threw her arms around Maggie’s neck, which brought forth, ‘now Ellie, it only
cost me four pence and I’ve had it a long time.  I was waiting for you to grow up so that you’d look after it.  An anyway, it was only second hand’.

‘Well I think
its lovely Mother’, she said, softly, as she held the chain round her neck and fastened the clasp.

‘Enough of that now. 
What was it Aunt Dora said we should do?’

Ellie managed quiet laugh, as she replied
, ‘we must go to the back door of the house, not the front, because we are working class’.

‘Aye, that’s right, servants didn't ought to go to the front door, but to the back, with the rest of the ‘rag-a-muffins’‘, laughed Maggie, ‘but they’ll not think of you as a rag-a-muffin Ellie.  They could mistake
you for one of the family, eh! love?’

They left the house at nine o’clock and walked down the street together, Maggie, head held high and wearing Ellie’s ‘tatty’ shawl.

It took them twenty-five minutes to walk to Thornton Avenue, then another five minutes to get up to the top of the hill.  As they approached their destination, they stared, in awe, at the large mansion-like house before them.

‘Oh Mam.  It’s big’, Ellie whispered, as if afraid of being overheard.

‘Aye, it’s
that
all right’.

‘Let's go back home.  Please Mam.  I’ll get a job somewhere else, I promise.  I will really’.

‘Don’t be daft Ellie, we’ve come this far, and we’re going in’.

Maggie opened the large gate a fraction, just enough to allow them through onto the paved driveway, from which they had view of the whole, of the front, of the house.  Even though the great, stone built, house was four
storeys high, it seemed to be dominated by a massive front door, with its apex of dark red wood and its brasses, which later Maggie would swear were solid gold.

‘This looks like the way to the back’, said Maggie, pointing to the side of the house.  They continued down the narrow passage and into a large garden where dozens of trees swayed in the winter wind.

There were many windows at the back of the house and Ellie saw that they extended down into the basement where she noticed a door at the bottom of several stone steps.

‘This looks like it Mam’.

‘Think on Ellie, I’ll do the talking’.

‘My knees are knocking.  I can’t keep them still’.

‘You’ll be all right Ellie.  Now keep your feet still and they might not notice your clogs’, she whispered, trying hard not to think of her own ragged attire.

The door opened to their knock and there appeared, in front of them, a tall man of middle years, his hair greying at the temples.  He was dressed in a black jacket and lighter trousers, the likes of which, Maggie had never seen.  Around the collar of his shirt the man had a large bow.

Now that's a bit 'sissy' if you ask me
, she thought.  Ellie thought much the same.

‘Yes?’ said the man, looking, directly at Maggie.

‘I haven’t asked you anything yet’, said Maggie, puzzled.

The man had a very serious expression on his face. ‘
Yes
, what do you want?’ 

‘Oh!  We want to see someone about the job that’s going in the kitchen’.

‘That would be the scullery maid’s position, I believe’. 

He said this whilst looking down at them from a great height and Ellie’s courage almost failed her.

But not Maggie’s.  Oh no.  Maggie’s pride had now taken over.

It was as if she was dressed in satins and silk.  She ignored, completely, the hanging threads of the torn shawl, which hugged her thin body, took a deep breath, and announced, ‘I would be grateful if you would tell the gentleman of the house that we are here and wish to see him’.

A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of the butler's mouth. 

‘Yes I’m sure you would, but it will be the housekeeper who will see you’, he said, not unkindly, ‘you had better come in.  Please be good enough to wipe your feet’.

He looked down, just in time to see Ellie, trying to hide her clogs under her long skirt.  He gave her a smile of encouragement. 

‘This way please’.

He did not speak again until they entered the vast kitchen, which was a beehive of activity, with women and young girls scurrying to and fro, working at their different tasks.

There, by the side of the large fireplace, set with a roaring fire, sat a stout woman drinking, from a small green cup, her little finger sticking up in the air.

The butler announced, ‘someone about the scullery maid’s job Miss Maud.  Will you see them now?’

‘Yes that will be all right William’, said the woman, and then turning to Maggie, she said, ‘please come here so I can see you’.

They were not asked to sit down, although, there were plenty of chairs around the long table in the centre of the room.  The woman spoke in a refined voice.

‘My name is Miss Winterbottom,
Maud
Winterbottom’. 

She paused and, concentrating her attention on Maggie, she inspected her from the top of her scraped back hair to the worn boots on her feet.  Her scrutinizing stare missed nothing.

‘In my position, as housekeeper of this respected establishment, I am referred to as Miss Maud.  Now let me see the girl’.

‘This is my daughter, Ellie’, said Maggie, ‘she’s fifteen, just turned, an as
you can see, she’s a strong lass’.  Giving Ellie a nudge, she went on, ‘turn round so as the lady can see you proper’.

Ellie turned around, slowly, keeping her eyes lowered.

‘She’s a good lass, an all.  Works well and doesn’t complain’.

‘She’s rather thin, but yes, she looks strong’.

‘And she’s clean an all’.

‘I can see that.  What did you say your name was?’

‘I didn’t, but its Maggie.  Maggie Windsor’.

‘Well, well.  Now that’s a very proper
name!’

For once in her life, Maggie thought it best to hold her tongue, so said nothing more. 

Ellie had the strangest feeling she was, simply, an observer and was not really present at this ‘bring and buy sale’.

After studying Ellie for a few minutes Miss Maud spoke once more in her nasal tones.  ‘Well now Maggie’, she seemed to find great difficulty in using the title of
Mrs when speaking to this obviously lowly woman.  ‘I like the look of your daughter.  A bit on the thin side but well turned out and I must say she shows promise of being a respectful girl.  If I’m honest, I think her face is a little too pretty for her own good, but not in an impudent or blatant way, as most young people, of your class’.

She paused, once more, for any response, which may be forthcoming.  There were none, therefore, she went on, ‘I believe I am willing to take a chance on my good
judgement’.

Maggie was not sure whether this meant that Ellie had got the job or not, so she murmured, ‘er ... oh good!’

‘The girl will come here, six o’clock, next Saturday morning.  She will, of course, live on the premises.  She will be paid nineteen pounds, ten shillings a year.  If she works well she will earn more next year.  She will be paid at the end of every month, the sum of twelve shillings and sixpence and will have one Sunday off out of four.  I’m sure you will find this arrangement satisfactory’.

Without waiting for a reply, she dismissed them with, ‘that will be all now.  You may go’.

A moment later, they found themselves climbing the steps from the basement and retracing their way out of the front gates.  Once outside, Maggie let out her breath.

‘Well lass?  It looks as if you’ve got a job’.

From the time she and her mother had entered the big house, to the time they came out, Ellie had not spoken, nor been spoken to.

Ellie was ‘in service’.

Chapter Four

Ellie lay in the narrow bed and stretched her arms above her head.

My first day off.  Mmm!

Kate was pouring water from the large jug, into the equally large basin, which rested on the washstand.  She shuddered as the cold water washed over her face.

‘By heck Ellie, it's blooming cold this morning.  I wish I could stay in bed.  Are you going home today then?’

‘Oh yes, and I can hardly wait to see them all’.

‘You're lucky Ellie, having someone who cares about you’.

‘It's a pity you can't come with me.  They'd make you welcome Kate, they're like that’.

‘Eh! that'd be grand, but it'll be a long time before we get a Sunday off together’.  Nevertheless, Kate still managed a smile as she dressed in her dowdy, black, frock.

Perched on top of her thick, black, curly hair was a mop cap, which could only be described as 'disastrous'. 
Somehow, over a long period of time, it had turned into a grey, misshapen thing.  Ellie let out a giggle.

Kate's face lit up with a broad grin.

‘I know what you laughing at Ellie Windsor.  You making fun of my posh hat’.  She pinned the monstrosity into place and Ellie laughed out loud.

‘Oh Kate, it looks a sight’.

Kate bent her knee, in an exaggerated curtsey, and hurried out of the door, laughing as she went.

Ellie listened to Kate's laughter until the sound faded away.  Kate was a poor girl, with no family to call her own, but she had a pleasant way with her and had befriended Ellie when she had most needed a friend.

Ellie thought back to her first day there and how alone she had felt.  She had arrived at the door, as ordered, at six o'clock on Saturday morning, teeth chattering with cold and legs trembling with fear.  She carried all the clothes she possessed in a piece of muslin, (taken down from the window) tied with a knot around her meagre belongings.  Inside were two pairs of 'bloomers', one to wear and one to wash, one vest, one blouse (thanks to Aunt Dora) and a nightshirt, which Ma Bagnall had given her.  It had seen better days but Ellie was very grateful.

The same man as before had taken her into the kitchen.  She remembered his name as William.  His full name was William Blunt and he informed her that he was the butler and was to be addressed as Mister Blunt, or Sir.

‘Yes Sir’, she said.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at the sound of her voice.  This was the first time he had heard her speak and the two words she had voiced had sounded strangely refined.  He shook his head as if to clear it.  How in earth could he possibly judge a person's eloquence with so little to go on?  However, he still had the feeling that little Ellie was someone quite special, and it wasn't due, entirely, to her exceptionally pretty face. 

This very same face brought mixed memories back into William's consciousness, and although, he did not welcome the recollections, he felt the sting of excitement flowing once more through his veins.

He found himself wondering if she would have difficulty fitting in with the under-staff.

Oh well, time will tell I expect
, he thought as he guided her to his wife, who was to show Ellie the 'ropes'.

William had always called his wife Missus Blunt, which amused the younger members of the staff immensely, and it was in this way he addressed her now.

‘Ellie Windsor has arrived’. Then, turning to Ellie, he said, ‘this is my wife, Missus Blunt, who is Cook here.  I am sure she will see that you get settled in’.

William left her, standing in front of Missus Blunt, still clutching her bundle.

‘First of all Ellie, I'm the person who tells you what work to do and I'm the one who clips your ear if you don't do it right.  Understand?’

‘Yes Missus Blunt’.  Ellie was terrified already.

Missus Blunt smiled at her and said, ‘I'm sure we'll get along fine.  Now put your bundle down in the corner.  We'll see to it later’.

Ellie placed her belongings in the corner of the room and followed the cook to the sink.  She was handed a piece of brown sacking, to use as a pinny, which she fastened around her waist with a piece of string.  She was then instructed to start on the mountain
of ‘pots and pans' waiting to be scoured.

It took Ellie until
nine thirty to finish her task, as every time she thought she had cleared them, another batch was quickly added to her load.  Now it really seemed as if it was all done.

For the first time, she turned from the sink and looked around the kitchen, the likes of which, she never knew existed.  Apart from the long table in the centre of the room, there were several sideboards with an assortment of crockery, neatly stacked and mostly decorated with a deep blue pattern.  Ellie thought that one of the sideboards was known as a 'Welsh Dresser'.  It had high shelves at the back, on which were displayed, the most beautiful china Ellie had ever dreamed of.  There were cups, saucers, plates and dishes, all of different sizes but of the same, exquisite beauty.

Ellie was fascinated by it all, so much so, that when a voice bellowed she almost jumped out of her skin.

‘You girl.  What do you think you are doing?  Get back to work at once’.

‘I've finished Missus Blunt’, flustered Ellie.

‘Finished?  Finished?  I'll let you know when you're finished my girl’.

Ellie twisted her fingers behind her back as Cook went on.

‘Fill the bucket with soapy water and scrub the floor.  Start at the pantry and work your way to the door.  And when that's finished there'll be more pan scrubbing to do’.

‘Yes Missus Blunt’.

With tears threatening to overspill her lovely grey eyes, she did as she was bid.  But her heart was heavy and she knew she was going to hate it here.

Whilst Ellie, and another girl, were busy doing the dirty, mundane work, others were equally busy preparing lunch for the Master and his family.  It was an elaborate affair with a succulent roast.  Had Ellie seen it, she would not have known what kind of meat it was, as her family were lucky to have 'pigs trotters', occasionally, and that was only because of Aunt Dora’s generosity.  However, the aroma of the roast made her mouth water.

After luncheon had been taken upstairs to the family, by a procession of smartly dressed maids, the kitchen workers were given a bowl of soup each and a large piece of bread. 
The bread was so white that Ellie wondered if it was all right.  The kind her mother baked was dark in colour and very coarse, but it was the only bread she had ever had.  A glass of water had been placed in front of her, along with, a small apple.

That’s when she had first met Kate.  The girl, sitting next to her, at the end of the long table, was about Ellie's age, and had spoken to her in whispered tones.

‘My name's Kate.  It's Katherine really, but everyone calls me Kate.  What's yours?’

‘Ellie’, she said, also whispering and thankful that someone had spoken to her.

‘You'll soon get used to the work Ellie, so don't worry too much’.

‘It's not the work I’m worried about so much as all the people’.

‘Oh they don't bother me none.  I just do my work and if I get a crack from 'old sour puss', I make blooming sure she don't catch me out for the same thing again’.

Ellie laughed, and then quickly glanced around the table to see if anyone had heard her.

‘Don't bother yourself’, said Kate, still whispering, ‘they'll not take any notice of the likes of us, so long as we keep it quiet.  Not till our thirty minutes are up anyway’.

‘What time do we finish then?’

‘We get done at nine, when we have washed all the crockery from tonight's dinner, but then tomorrow morning we have to scrub the pots and pans that are left.  We could stay up late and do them, but we still have to start work again at six, so it's better to get in a good night's sleep.  What do you think?’

‘I'll let you know at the end of the week, but it's a long day, isn't it?’

‘Oh aye, but we stop at six for another bite to eat and then we get something to go to bed with, so at least we're not hungry, and I'm glad of that’.  And with this, she took a noisy bite of the apple.

‘Less noise Kate’, said Missus Blunt, frowning in their direction.

‘Yes Missus Blunt’, said Kate, managing to keep her face straight.

The cook went back to her conversation and the girls continued talking quietly until their break came to an end.

Ellie was relieved and very tired, when the clock struck nine and she was told to report to the housekeeper, who was now having a drink in her usual place by the fire.

After draining the last dregs of tea from the small green cup, Miss Maud surveyed Ellie with some interest.

She did not fail to notice that the girl's posture was straight and proud; in fact, even though the girl had worked all day Ellie's whole demeanour was noticeably superior to that of their usual scullery maids.  Miss Maud was having second thoughts about the maid.  She felt uneasy in the girl's presence.  She could not put her finger on the problem but there was definitely, something.  She felt belittled by these thoughts and decided that should the problem persist, she would have to take action, before the girl 'gets above her station'.

It did not occur to Miss Maud that the antagonism she felt was due to Ellie's name '
Windsor'.  She herself hated her own name of ‘Winterbottom’ and had insisted on being addressed as Miss Maud from the first day she took up her prestigious position as housekeeper.

Now she spoke to Ellie in a stern manner, ‘I will take you upstairs and show you where you will sleep, so pick up your belongings’.

Ellie found her clothes and moved towards the stairs.

‘No.  Not that way.  We never use those stairs, unless we are dealing directly with the family, or doing work in the main house.  As a scullery maid, you will never use those stairs, ever, unless the Mistress should summons you’.

Ellie was quite a bit shorter than the housekeeper, and as such, found her face on a level with the woman's huge bosom.  Each time Miss Maud raised her voice, so the bosom quivered.  Ellie was mesmerized, as once again, Miss Maud shouted, ‘do you understand girl?’

Ellie turned her gaze away from the trembling flesh, ‘yes Miss Maud’.  She was far too tired to feel offended by the woman's attitude.

She was escorted to a door at the far side of the pantry and up a dark, narrow stairway, lit only by the dim light of a single gas mantle.  At the top of the third flight of stairs they stopped and Ellie was confronted with a long landing, along which, were several doors.  All were painted brown and each as dull as the other.

Ellie was steered to an attic at the very end of the landing.  The room was long and less than three
yards across.  From what Ellie could see, it contained two low beds, each made up with a plain white counterpane.  By the wall stood a washstand with jug and basin, a large chest of drawers with glass knobs, one interwoven straight back chair and down the length of the room was a strip of threadbare matting.

‘You will share this room with another girl.  See that you live clean and think clean and you will get on well here’.

Ellie was so weary she was having difficulty keeping her eyes open.

‘You are allowed one candle a week which will be provided every Friday night.  If it fails to last seven days, you must still wait until Friday for a new one.  It's called 'being prudent' Ellie.  You would do well to remember it’.

Ellie felt sure she would fall down.

Miss Maud then went on, ‘if you want any breakfast see you are downstairs by a quarter to six.  Now I'll say good night’.

She did not add ‘sleep well’ as she did with the rest of the staff, but as it happened, she had no need.  Ellie fell onto the bed and drifted into, instant, oblivion.

‘Wakey, Wakey’. 
The sound forced its way into her sleep.

Someone was shaking her.  She pulled away.  Again she was shaken.  ‘Rise and shine, time to get up Ellie’.

She opened her eyes and, after adjusting to the light of the candle, she saw a smiling face.  Kate's face.

‘Oh I'm sharing with you then?’

‘Aye.  Aren't you the lucky one?’

‘I'm so glad Kate’.

‘So am I.  I knew we'd be friends.  I tried to wake you last night with your cocoa and a scone, but you were dead to the world so I had double rations.  Hope you don't mind?’

‘Not at all Kate, your welcome, I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow’.

‘Aye I think you must have because I wasn't more than five minutes behind you.  I pulled your blankets over you and you never stirred’.

‘Blankets?’  Ellie lifted up the counterpane and there they were.  ‘Blankets’, she repeated, and fingered the softness of them both.  First one and then the other.  She had slept in such lovely blankets and been quite unaware of the experience. 
How strange life can be
, she thought, wistfully.  But Ellie had started the day with a smile and she was grateful to Kate.

Now, languishing in the warmth of her bed, Ellie smiled, remembering the beginning of their friendship.  Kate made her laugh and she knew they would remain friends.  She had worked hard this past four weeks and now she was going home.