…To find that one of the carpets was missing. I stared at the empty space. All the furniture was rearranged round the grand piano in the other half of the hall.
H.H. said, ‘The young ladies and gentlemen are going to dance tonight. Thomas’ (the oddman) ‘has polished the floor, ready for them.’
What a marvellous opportunity for me to watch Dr Travers! And for observing tribal rituals, of course – business before pleasure. But – I’d promised him I wouldn’t eavesdrop any more. Then as I swept the hearth I recalled that what I’d actually promised was not to listen behind curtains, and there were no curtains in the gallery overlooking the hall, and I couldn’t listen to any conversations because it was too high up, so…
However, I have to admit that those first two brushes with Lord Rothbury had left their mark; I had become more cautious recently. Take the matter of my daily swim, for instance – I’d suspended it altogether over the weekend. And although by Monday it was clear from the extra damp towels left out for the laundry that those gentlemen who swam were choosing to do so in the early morning, I’d still decided to confine my afternoon dip to the precise half hour of tea. I knew I’d be safe then, thanks to Lady Stokesley; that tea time tribal ritual of hers was extremely convenient for me.
But back to Monday evening, and the dancing. I simply must see Dr Travers dance. Surely, if I was careful: the gallery was dimly lit, the pillars were wide and sheltering – and my uniform dress was black. Minus my white cap and apron I would simply melt into the shadows – which reminded me of the example of that arch-melter, Uncle Fergus. When on a poaching expedition he would often carry some tool which implied he was out on a respectable errand. Of course, it was a complete waste of time, because his reputation around Helspie was such that if he actually was on legitimate business – off with his spade to dig potatoes, for instance – someone would say, ‘Salmon taken to burrowing underground, have they, Fergus?’
But it was different for me. I would carry one of the small, brass, shaving water cans, and then if anyone did query my presence in the gallery I’d imply that I’d forgotten to retrieve it from a bedroom earlier. And no-one would be at all suspicious because my current reputation as a humble housemaid was still spotless. Except with – Ah yes, my first move tonight must be to check that Horseface was safely on the dance floor. I muttered to Glad, ‘Does Lord Rothbury dance?’ But she pretended not to hear. Mean cow.
It turned out that Lord Rothbury did dance, pretty well, too. Though not as well as Dr Travers – he was the best dancer I’d ever seen. So marvellously graceful. I stood there watching as he danced with one fortunate girl after another – desperately trying to stop my toes tapping to the rhythm of the tunes. It was all very well being an observer of tribal rituals, but dancing was one ritual I didn’t want to observe – I wanted to join in.
Fading back into the shadows I returned the little brass can to the housemaids’ closet before slipping along the bachelors’ corridor and up the stairs to my room. I felt a bit blank. Those girls down there were not that much older than me – if Apa had been alive, I would have – Stop it, Eve. Live for the day. And remember next Monday, the servants’ ball – Dr Travers would surely dance with me then – once, at least.
The following afternoon found me sitting in the sun on a bench outside the stable block, reading. Intelligence (i.e. Billy) had reported that several of the gentlemen had gone for a ride. Fingers crossed, one would be Dr Travers – and they were due back before long because it was only half an hour to tea-time.
I read with my ears pricked – and heard hoof beats. Looking up hopefully I spotted three men cantering across the grass towards me. One was obviously Horseface, because he was bigger than the others. As they came closer I recognised his companions: Lord Ernest and Captain Cholmondeley – no Dr Travers. Gosh, Lord Rothbury could certainly ride – he was moving in perfect rhythm with his horse, as if he were growing out of it, like a centaur.
They were slowing down. Lord Rothbury patted his horse’s neck, glanced towards L, the stables, saw me – and raised his riding crop. I felt flattered, but rather self-conscious, too. He surely hadn’t thought I was looking at him, had he? I dropped my eyes down to my book again, and kept them there even when two pairs of glossy boots crunched past on the gravel. I didn’t feel like bobbing today.
A couple of minutes later a third pair of boots came crunching in my direction. A shadow fell over me – my head jerked up – too late! The adventures of Harris, George and J. had already been twitched from my grasp. I sprang to my feet – but the book was now high above my head.
I exclaimed, ‘That’s mine!’
He snorted. ‘I doubt it – I’d recognise that library binding anywhere.’ Turning the spine to face him he squinted up against the sun. ‘Ah, so you’ve discovered “Three Men In A Boat”.’
‘I discovered them lang ago – I’m just having another wee read. So if I can have ma book back the noo—’
His reply was to raise it even higher. As I reached up his jacket swung open and I could smell the musky scent of his sweat. I moved closer.
He grinned down at me. ‘If you want it back you’ll have to pay a forfeit.’
Suspicious, I asked, ‘What forfeit?’
‘A kiss.’ He looked so smug. That expression of his was too much for me.
Be a leopard, Eve. I crouched, sprang – and seized the book from his surprised hand.
‘Goodness, what a lithe young pussy cat you are!’ He was already reaching for it again. I thrust the book on the bench behind me and dropped down right on top of it, gripping the edge of the seat and daring him to shift me. His eyebrows raised. ‘You do tempt me, young woman.’
I retorted, ‘Cats scratch.’
‘Mm – and I’m not sure you wouldn’t.’ He smiled. ‘Well, another time, perhaps.’
I sniffed. He brayed, and then strode off on his great, long legs. No wonder he’d been able to catch me on the fish pier at Scarborough – but I’d won today. Only fancy Horseface keeping on wanting to kiss me! Kiss, me. I felt I should be annoyed, but I wasn’t – though I jolly well wouldn’t let him, of course. I glanced up at the stable clock; time to go and get changed for my swim.
Next morning I was carrying the tall brass water can on my head when I noticed him watching me from the end of the corridor. Soon after he appeared in the doorway of the housemaids’ closet, one muscular arm stretched across the entrance. ‘Where did you learn to carry water cans like that?’
I shrugged, but was on my guard. ‘Nae different frae carrying a basket o’ fish. Ye just put it up and walk – anybody could dae it.’
He shook his head. ‘No. You walk differently from the others.’
I said indignantly, ‘There’s nothing wrong with the way I walkl’
‘Wrong! I never said there was – on the contrary, you make the other maids look like carthorses.’
Oh – wasn’t I pleased at that! He, meanwhile, was moving closer – soon he was right inside the closet and standing next to me at the sink. His arm gently pressed on my shoulder as he murmured ‘You know, if you were one of my housemaids I’d employ you simply to walk up and down the corridors all day, with a brass can on your head. No, not a can – a tall, shapely, Ming vase.’
What an odd thing to say. I reached down for a chamber. ‘Be a sight better’n cleaning these. I hate scrubbing piss pots.’
He drew back slightly. ‘Er – yes, well—’
I added, ‘Especially when folk only fill ‘em because they’re tae lazy to gang along corridor to the closet.’
He said, ‘I don’t think I actually—’
‘No, ye dinna. Nor dae Dr Travers, or Mr Parton.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ He raised one eyebrow, ‘Perhaps I could have a kiss as a reward for my restraint?’
I just stood there, chamber pot in one hand, scrubbing brush in the other, and asked, ‘Dae ye no think of anything else?’
‘Well, er,’ now he seemed to be trying not to laugh. ‘What else is there to think of?’
‘Breakfast.’
He started laughing, really braying, and Glad appeared, with a simper. ‘Good morning, my lord – is there anything I can fetch you?’
‘No thank you, Gladys – I was just on my way out.’
I thought smugly, he hasn’t asked her for a kiss – then his hand reached down and patted her bottom. Glad’s bottom. The cheek of it – and he’d never even touched mine. Not that I wanted him to, of course – but Glad’s! She was still simpering – until I splashed her with my scrubbing brush. ‘Eve! Can’t you be more careful!’ That wiped the simper off her face, alright.
Five of the single gentlemen went swimming the following morning. Four walked past wearing flannels and with damp hair, off to leave their wet towels on the floor of their rooms for me to pick up. The fifth stopped, and lobbed his wet towel straight to me. ‘Catch!’ Horseface, looking curiously different with his hair all slicked down – but sounding just the same. ‘You can put that in your laundry basket.’ He gave an exaggerated shiver. ‘Brr – it’s cold in that lake these mornings.’
I said, ‘Compared wi’ the sea off Helspie that lake’s a warm bath.’
‘And how do you know that? Ah, I suppose I can guess. You know, you’ll get caught one day, young woman.’
I shook my head. ‘They’ll no catch me. It’s a case o’ being canny, and finding a time when every other body in the house is busy stuffing hissel’.’
‘Tut, tut.’ Then one of the other men called his name. He shouted over his shoulder, ‘Just coming.’ Turning back to me he said quickly, ‘Look over there!’ I swung round – and felt him reach for my behind and give it a squeeze – gently, but firmly. He may have been cold, but his hand wasn’t – it was nice and warm, to be honest. By the time I turned back, he’d gone.
A couple of hours later I saw him again. I’d just finished work on the floor of the garden entrance when he came along – with Dr Travers. Dr Travers smiled, and I bobbed to him. He’d left footprints on my nice clean floor: his footprints – I could hardly bear the thought of wiping them away. Lord Rothbury said to him, ‘I must just run round to the stables.’
Dr Travers replied, ‘Don’t forget there’s a concert rehearsal before lunch – in the billiard room.’ He was off.
I gazed after him – then realised Horseface was still there. I told him, ‘If ye was wanting to visit the closet, the floor o’ the other one’s already dry.’ I didn’t want him ruining my hard work.
‘Ah, thank you. Another time, perhaps.’ He moved closer. ‘Don’t I get a bob?’ I hesitated, and he said, ‘I’ll take a kiss instead, if you’d rather.’
I put down my pails, lifted my skirts a fraction, and went down into my full-scale, Gondoliers-finale curtsey. As I rose up again I asked, ‘Will that dae ye – ma lord?’
‘Mm, very nice – almost as good as a kiss.’
He was still hanging around, and seemed in a pretty good mood, so I asked, ‘What are the songs tae be for this concert – nice lively ones, are they?’
He said gravely, ‘What would you say if I told you that the entire programme consisted of hymns?’
I frowned. ‘Ye mean, like, “Fight the Good Fight”?’
‘Goodness no – nothing as jolly as that. Only those with tunes of the most dreary kind.’ I could feel my face falling. How typical of Lady Stokesley. Hymns were all very well in church, but – He said pleasantly, ‘Is there anything else you wish to know?’
‘Dr Travers – what sort o’ voice does he sing in?’
‘He does a very fine rendering of “Through The Night of Doubt and Sorrow”. But then, I always think that tune suits a good, deep, basso profundo, don’t you?’
‘He’s a bass? But he doesna look like a bass!’
Lord Rothbury asked, interestedly, ‘What does a bass look like?’
‘Weel – nae sa guid-looking.’ He brayed. I said, ‘What dae ye sing?’ Smiling, he tapped my nose. ‘You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you, young woman?’
Rather irritated I told him, ‘Ma name’s “Eve”.’
‘Yes, I’d not forgotten.’ He grinned. ‘And most appropriate, too – after all, it was your namesake who got us all thrown out of Eden.’
Cheek. I said, ‘Adam didna have tae eat o’ the fruit – and certain sure he shouldna’ve put the blame on her after he’d done it.’ Mimicking Adam’s voice I quoted: ‘“The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree.” What a cowardly sneak that chappie was!’
‘Your theology is unorthodox, but I must admit you have a case. I presume you’re not a Wee Free?’
‘Nae,’ I told him. ‘An’ if I were I wouldna be coming tae the servants’ dance.’
‘Oh yes. That is something to look forward to.’ He leant towards me, and showed his big, strong teeth in a broad smile. ‘And if you’re a good girl, I might even dance with you.’
I retorted, ‘Suppose I’m a bad girl?’
‘Then I’ll definitely dance with you!’ He strode off, whistling. I was safe for one dance, then; I’d never manage to be good for five whole days. But fancy having to sit through an entire programme of hymns, first!
Except that I wouldn’t. Spotting Mr Parton going into the billiard room with his music under his arm I rushed up to say ‘Good morning’, bob, and get a squint at the titles: ‘The Mikado’ – Gilbert and Sullivan. I exclaimed, ‘Oh, I do like their songs!’
Mr Parton looked pleased. ‘A number of them will be in the concert.’
I said, ‘Along with the hymns.’
‘Hymns?’ He looked surprised. ‘I don’t think—’
‘But Lord Rothbury said—’ Ah, clever old Horseface. I amended, ‘He didna actually say, he just gave me tae understand as there’d be hymns.’
Mr Parton smiled. ‘He does like his little joke.’
I heard the clatter of bachelors advancing across the hall and asked quickly, ‘Dr Travers – what’s he going tae sing on Monday?’
‘One of his solos will be “Take a pair of sparkling eyes”.’
Which was always sung by a tenor. But surely Horseface had said – no, he hadn’t actually said. Clever old Horseface. He’d tried to gull me. But he hadn’t succeeded, because I’d found out the truth.
Even cleverer Eve.