Harriet thought swiftly. She couldn’t dip whilst walking so she’d pause, dip her knee, say ‘Good afternoon, ma’am’ and walk on.
But she was forestalled by the woman, who on drawing near said, ‘Hello. Who are you?’
Melissa Hart knew all the house servants; she’d chosen most of them herself after marrying Christopher. It had been an act of self-defence. She wasn’t a mean or calculating woman by any means, but coming to the manor as a new and younger wife she reckoned that the servants who had looked after the lonely widower and his daughter would perhaps be fixed in their habits or adhere too rigidly to the rules laid down by Christopher’s first wife. Also, she had thought that having been without a mistress for many years they might well have become used to doing things very much as they wanted.
The first to go had been the cook, Mrs Marshall, who was well past retirement age in any case. When Melissa had told her husband of her intentions, he had at first been horrified, but had then seen the sense of it and said he would find a cottage for her to live in.
‘I’m really grateful, ma’am,’ Mrs Marshall had said when Melissa gently suggested that she might like to take things a little easier now, and that Mr Hart wanted to show her a cottage by Brough Haven which she could have if she wished. ‘Although Hart Holme has been my home for many a year, it isn’t mine, and I’d be glad to tek things easy and put my feet up if I had a little place of my own.’
‘But you’d help out if ever we were short-handed in the kitchen?’ Melissa had asked, without any intention of asking her. ‘You have such a good reputation as a cook.’
‘Aye, I do, ma’am,’ Mrs Marshall agreed, ‘but I think not. You and ’master will no doubt be entertaining more, and quite right too, but them days are past for me.’
But she had recommended another cook who worked in Brough and wanted a better place. Melissa had interviewed the woman, younger than Mrs Marshall, and taken her on. Mrs Marshall was gratified that her advice was taken; the new cook, Mrs Lister, was delighted, and everyone was satisfied.
It had not been so easy with the housekeeper. Melissa thought her cold and supercilious, and when she had informed her she was looking for new staff, including an under-housekeeper or senior maid, the woman was rude and arrogant and complained to Christopher that his new wife wanted to change a system that had been working perfectly under her command. He in turn became angry and upset and had dismissed her, giving her a reference that was fair but hardly glowing.
As for the maids, there was a natural reduction; some said they didn’t want to work for a new mistress, while those who were conscientious under direction and comfortable working there decided to stay put unless asked to leave.
Melissa then stole her mother’s housekeeper, Mrs Clubley, who had always been kind to her and efficient too despite her mistress’s constant interference. She jumped at the chance of coming to housekeep for the young mistress, and Melissa was grateful to have someone she knew and could rely on.
And so, on seeing a young woman walking along her drive as she was coming to inspect the arrangement of the rose beds she had asked for, she was curious as to who the stranger was. She didn’t seem like a humble countrywoman; she walked with an assured air as if on an important errand, and she was looking about her as if she hadn’t seen the garden before.
‘I’m Harriet M— Tuke, ma’am. I’m mekking for ’servants’ hall to ask about a position.’
Melissa raised her fair eyebrows. ‘You were going to say something else,’ she jested. ‘Do you not know who you are?’
Harriet flushed. This was not a good beginning. ‘I’m recently married, ma’am. I’m not yet used to my married name. I used to be Harriet Miles, but now I’m Harriet Tuke.’
‘Do you live near here?’
‘Yes, ma’am. My husband’s family have a farm on your land, close by ’estuary.’
Melissa gave a small frown. The only farm by the estuary that belonged to them was a run-down one which Christopher said barely paid its way.
‘And – are you not needed at home?’ Such a silly question, she chided herself. Perhaps they need her wages.
‘My husband’s mother looks after ’house so there’s not much for me to do, though I collect eggs, when there are any, and I’ve been taught how to milk ’cows.’
‘Well.’ Melissa decided to draw the conversation to a close. ‘I already have a housekeeper and a cook, so I don’t know what—’
‘Oh!’ Harriet interrupted. ‘Nowt – nothing so grand, ma’am. I’m new to domestic work. I used to work in a Hull mill when I was single. I was thinking more of a scullery maid or helping wi’ laundry, and I wouldn’t want to live in,’ she hastened to add. ‘My husband wouldn’t want . . . well …’ She paused. ‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’
‘I see.’ Melissa didn’t really want to know the details of her life. ‘Go to the back door, then, and ask for Mrs Clubley or Cook. They might be able to suggest something, maybe on a temporary basis.’ She gave Harriet a dismissive nod and began to move away. Then she said, ‘Have you been here before?’
‘No, ma’am. It’s my first time.’
‘So you haven’t seen the gardens?’
Harriet shook her head. ‘They’re beautiful,’ she said. ‘Are you having flower beds, ma’am?’
‘Yes, I am, although I don’t think the gardener is very impressed with the idea.’ Melissa glanced at the bare beds in the distance.
‘I think they’d be lovely, ma’am. Roses would be nice. You’d be able to smell ’scent up at ’house, I should think.’
‘Exactly,’ Melissa murmured. ‘My thoughts exactly.’ She smiled at Harriet. ‘Well, good luck, Mrs Tuke,’ she said. ‘Tell Mrs Clubley or Cook you’ve been speaking to me.’
Harriet watched her walk away before she set off down the other path to the kitchen entrance. Fancy her remembering my name, she thought. She’s onny young, though. I thought she’d be older. Second wife. I recall Mrs Tuke telling ’master that she was sorry about ’death of his wife. He mentioned a daughter. Poor woman: she’ll be playing second fiddle to the girl, I bet. Still, it’s not a bad sort of life, I shouldn’t think. She looked about her as she approached the back of the house. Although not as grand as the front, it was none the less impressive. The courtyard was clean and well swept, there were tubs outside the kitchen door with green stuff growing in them, and through a gate she saw another garden with regimented plots, a glasshouse and low glass cloches.
Harriet tapped on the door and a young maid opened it. ‘I’d like to speak to Mrs Clubley or Cook, please,’ Harriet said. ‘My name is Harriet Tuke.’
The girl dipped her knee and Harriet was impressed and not a little flattered. I suppose she’s told to dip to everybody above her, and everybody is, she thought.
She was asked to come in and wait in the entrance lobby whilst the girl went to enquire. The lobby had outdoor coats hanging on wall hooks and rubber boots standing on low shelving. Walking sticks and black umbrellas were propped in a bucket in the corner. It smelt of carbolic soap.
The girl came back and said that Cook would see her now, but she was taking her afternoon rest and could only spare ten minutes.
Mrs Lister was sitting in an easy chair and looked up as Harriet entered. ‘What can I do for you?’ she asked in a not unfriendly voice.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Cook,’ Harriet apologized. ‘I’m looking for temporary part-time work and it was suggested that I apply here. I, er, I’ve just seen ’mistress on ’way up ’drive and she said to ask for you or Mrs Clubley.’
Mrs Lister sat up sharply. ‘You asked ’mistress?’
‘No, no! She saw me and asked who I was – she was looking at ’garden. I told her I was mekking my way to servants’ hall to ask about part-time work, laundry or cleaning …’ Her voice tailed away. Had she committed a cardinal sin by speaking to the mistress of the house?
Mrs Lister relaxed back against the chair. ‘Sit down,’ she said, pointing to a stool by the kitchen table. ‘Mrs Hart is unconventional, to say ’least. Some gentlewomen wouldn’t even notice ’servants, let alone speak to ’em.’ She looked at Harriet and then called to the girl who had let her in. ‘Lizzie, mek us a pot o’ tea, an’ be quick. She’s a good enough lass, but a bit slow,’ she confided in Harriet. ‘Now then, tell me about yourself and I’ll tell you if I’ve any work.’
Harriet gave her the details of her previous jobs. ‘I just need something part time,’ she said. ‘Not necessarily every day, but mebbe a couple o’ times a week, if that’s possible.’
Mrs Lister slowly nodded her head. ‘I’d need to speak to ’housekeeper, but we could do wi’ help wi’ laundry on a Monday. I’ve got one woman, but there’s too much for just one and ’other girl I had decided it was beneath her and left.’
Harriet smiled. ‘She’s not been hungry then, has she?’
‘No, not yet she hasn’t,’ Mrs Lister replied, as the maid brought a tray of tea things. ‘Don’t pour it yet, Lizzie; let it brew. Have you?’ she asked Harriet. ‘Ever been hungry?’
‘Aye,’ Harriet said in a low voice, ‘I have, many a time. Work’s not easy to find in Hull.’
‘So can your husband not afford to keep you at home?’
‘He doesn’t know I’m here,’ Harriet said, and found herself explaining her situation.
The inner door opened and another maid came in. She was wearing a crisp white apron and a white cap and carrying a tea tray.
‘Alice, this is Mrs Tuke,’ Mrs Lister said. ‘She’s coming to help wi’ washing and ironing, wi’ Mrs Clubley’s approval.’
‘Oh, that’s a relief.’ Alice sat down in a kitchen chair and stretched her legs. ‘I helped with ’ironing last time and it’s not my favourite occupation. Tuke? My mother used to work here with somebody who married a Tuke. Any relation?’
‘My mother-in-law worked here, for Master Hart’s mother.’
‘It’ll be ’same then,’ Alice said. ‘I don’t know her, but I remember Ma talking about them; he used to work here as well, Mr Tuke, I mean.’ She laughed. ‘It’s such a funny name, isn’t it? That’s why I remembered it. Sounds like Duke.’
‘Alice!’ Cook said warningly.
‘Oh,’ Alice put her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.’
‘That’s all right,’ Harriet said, and took a cup of tea from Cook’s outstretched hand. ‘I quite agree, it’s an odd name.’ She took a deep breath. She liked it here; it was warm and friendly. ‘So,’ she said, taking a sip of the strong tea. ‘Am I to be tekken on?’
Cook nodded and settled back in her chair. ‘As far as I’m concerned you can start next Monday morning. Be here at six o’ clock and I’ll clear it wi’ Mrs Clubley.’