The Windsor Girl Read online

  ‘She’s going into service’, said Maggie. The words sent a shiver of anxiety down Ellie’s spine.

  ‘Eh never! You said, all along, you wouldn’t let her work until she could get a good job. What’s happened to change you mind?’ Dora spluttered, in disbelief.

  ‘It can't be helped Dora, we'll not hold together much longer if someone doesn't bring some real money in soon, and that’s a fact’.

  Dora was flabbergasted.

  ‘Well I never!’ she said, ‘but I expect you have no choice, otherwise, you wouldn’t let her go, would you?’

  Maggie looked down at her hands. ‘You know how much I want for Ellie, don't you? She's a bonny lass and I don't want to see her go the way a lot of them do around here’.

  ‘You mean ‘the family way’?’ whispered Dora, ‘your Ellie would never do that, and you know it. Eh! whatever are you thinking of Maggie?’

  ‘Well, it has been known Dora, it’s not only the flighty girls that ‘fall on’ you know. Innocent young girls get caught, and sometimes, without knowing how’.

  ‘I suppose you right’, Dora agreed.

  ‘Aye, I am right, and it’s not going to happen to my Ellie’, said Maggie, taking a swig of the stout.

  ‘This stout’s a bit flat Dora, tastes like they’ve had it in a few years’.

  Dora thought, well, as you would say yourself Maggie, 'beggars can't be choosers'. But she dare not say it.

  ‘Anyway, as I was saying ‘, Maggie went on, ‘they’re very strict with them in them big houses you know, but they eat well and sometimes they give them clothes to wear. She’ll get used to it and it’ll keep her out of trouble’.

  She stopped talking long enough to notice that Ellie was a peculiar colour and very near to tears. Maggie dare not show any softening of attitude now, so remarked, sharply, ‘well Ellie, say what you want to say and get it over with’.

  Ellie’s tears spilled down onto her soiled blouse as she blurted out her distress.

  ‘You’re talking as if I were not in the room. I feel I am just an object instead of a human being. I hate the thought of going into service. It’s not what I want for myself Mother’.

  ‘I see we’re back to ‘Mother’ again, eh?’ Maggie made to raise her hand but something in Ellie's manner warned her that this was not a time to lash out in her usual way. Instead she took a long gulp of the stout and said, ‘well you going and that’s that’.

  Dora put her arms around Ellie and tried to give her comfort. ‘There, there lass, don’t take on so, you’ll be alright, you’ll see’.

  Ellie got to her feet, ‘I'll go to the ‘big house’ because I see no other way, but I will not always be a maid Mother, you’ll see’. Ellie ran upstairs away from her mother’s shocked eyes.

  ‘Well I never’, said Maggie, shaking her head, ‘I never thought our Ellie had it in her to talk that way. Well, well, well’.

  ‘She’s growing up Maggie’, said Dora, ‘and she’s always been a bit different from the rest, if you know what I mean?’

  Maggie looked thoughtful, ‘I know what you mean Dora, she thinks highly of herself. Tom was like that an all, always thought he were better than his mates but life brought him down with a bump. I just hope Ellie won’t get hurt too much when it happens to her because she’s a good lass and deserves a better life’.

  ‘Aye Maggie, same as you do’.

  They continued to talk but Maggie kept seeing Ellie’s sad face and wished she didn't have to take her to the ‘big house’. But needs must and that’s that, she thought, then pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind.

  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 de
scribed 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.