Next morning, Nellie didn’t even speak to me. I tried to say a few things to her, but she always turned away, as if my voice was hurting her ears. After a while I began to wish she was shouting at me, because the silence was so strange and awkward.
After lunch, Nellie and I settled down to our sewing. We were mending sheets, which is a very boring job, so my mind was wandering. I kept thinking about Maeve – I hadn’t seen her that day, and I wondered if she had forgotten about painting my portrait. Had she already moved on to something else more exciting than me?
Just when it looked as if I was reaching the end of my sewing bundle, Mrs Bailey came in with a fine green silk dress, and handed it to me.
‘Lady Mary has noticed how neat your stitches are, Lily,’ she said. ‘And she especially asked for you to fix this rip on the sleeve of her favourite gown.’
I’m proud of my good work, but I felt a bad taste in my mouth. Next to me, Nellie was viciously stabbing a sheet with her needle, almost as if she wanted to kill it. For a second I wished my stitching was poor, so she wouldn’t have one more reason to hate me.
I sewed the sleeve carefully, and when I was finished, the tear was invisible. Reluctantly I folded the smooth silk, and returned to patching the last of the boring linen sheets. I began to daydream – if I couldn’t become a teacher, maybe one day I could get a job as a seamstress, making fine gowns for rich ladies like Lady Mary. Maybe one day I could have my own shop, where …
Just then, Maeve rushed into the room.
‘Sorry, Lily,’ she said. ‘I had a very busy morning. First, Albert was showing me how to fix the motor car, and after that Uncle Joss wanted me to help him in the greenhouse. He’s breeding some new daffodils and he’s very excited about them.’
I looked at her in surprise. I couldn’t imagine a fine lady dirtying her hands with engines or gardens. But then, I was beginning to see that Maeve wasn’t like most fine ladies.
‘Anyway, better late than never, come on and let’s get started.’
Maeve ran from the room, and after a sigh and a nod from Mrs Bailey, I followed her.
* * *
This time it felt a little less strange to be sitting in Maeve’s room, all dressed up in the blue silk. Once again, Maeve took a while to get started. She wandered around the room, picking things up and putting them down again. She showed me a bundle of fabrics, in all colours of the rainbow.
‘My Aunt Mabel sent me a present all the way from England,’ she said. ‘There’s enough for five new dresses.’
I didn’t know what to say to this. I had barely owned five dresses in my whole life – and most of those had belonged to someone else before me. Once, one of Mam’s cousins in America sent us a few yards of navy blue fabric. Next to Maeve’s silk and satin, I fear it would have looked very rough and cheap, but at the time, I thought it was the finest fabric ever made. Mam set to work quickly. Winnie and Anne needed new dresses, and the boys needed shirts for school. By the time all of those were made, there was only enough left for a scarf for me, and a hanky for Mam.
‘What do you think?’ asked Maeve, tossing the fabrics towards the bed, where they floated down softly, like dandelion seeds in a breeze.
‘I think you’re very lucky,’ I said. ‘It must be lovely to have all that fabric just for you. It must be lovely not to have to share anything.’
‘Don’t be jealous,’ she said. ‘I have to share my mother with all of Ireland.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mother wants to do everything and fix everything.’
‘Like what?’
‘She’s in all kinds of organisations – daughters of Ireland, Fianna Eireann – and probably more that we don’t even know about. No one in the family talks about her very much, except for Aunt Eva, and that’s not any good to me, because she’s hardly ever here either.’
‘It sounds as if your mother has a very exciting life,’ I said.
‘It’s exciting but she works hard too. She fights for votes for women, and extra food for the poor. She is an exceedingly brave person.’
‘You must be very proud of her,’ I said, thinking of my own poor mam who was brave too, but never had time for anything except feeding and caring for her children.
‘I am proud,’ said Maeve. ‘Since the Lockout started she’s been helping starving children, you know, and that’s a very good thing, but …’
‘What?’
‘I wouldn’t change Mother, or what she believes in, and I know she thinks it’s best for me to be here with Gaga, as she is so busy in Dublin.’
So that’s why Maeve had to live with her granny – her mother and father were too busy to take care of her. Poor Maeve. I could see how much she missed her mam and dad. I could also see she wasn’t used to talking about this. I wanted to put my arms around her, but I didn’t dare to move.
‘I would like to see Mother and Father more often,’ she said. ‘Uncle Joss and Aunt Mary see their little ones at least once a day, when the nurses bring them down for their goodnight kisses. Sometimes Aunt Mary takes Michael and Hugh for riding lessons and spends the whole afternoon watching them from the gallery.’
I had to smile. My mam saw Winnie and Anne almost every second of every day. Winnie spent most of her days clinging to her skirts, and Anne was never more than a shout away.
‘It must be nice when your mother visits you here,’ I said, trying to cheer her up.
‘It is,’ said Maeve. ‘I love seeing her. Mother respects me and talks to me as if I were a grown-up.’
‘That’s nice,’ I said. Now I felt even more sorry for her. I like being treated as a grown-up by everyone else, but I’ll always be my mam’s little girl – that’s the way things are supposed to be.
‘You’ll see Mother soon enough,’ said Maeve. ‘She will be visiting at Christmas – and maybe my father too – though he might have to go to Poland to see his family.’
‘The Countess will be here at Christmas?’
I had heard so much about her, it was almost as if she wasn’t a real person at all. Soon, though, she would really be here, under the same roof as me! I could hardly believe what Maeve was saying, and I was already in a panic.
‘What should I say to her if I meet her? What should I do? Should I bow or curtsey? What should I call her – Your Highness or Countess or Your Majesty, or what?’
Maeve laughed. ‘She’s just a woman – and she won’t care what you call her as long as you are nice to her dog. If you do say something to her she probably won’t even notice – she is always busy and she’ll be running around like a whirlwind. Anyway, enough about Mother. We’ve got work to do.’
For a long time, she concentrated on her painting, and I sat there watching her. I was older than Maeve, but she was much more sophisticated and well-travelled than me – she had been all over Ireland, to places I’d only heard about. In some ways though, Maeve seemed very young. She’d never made a bed, or scrubbed a floor, or done anything to earn a living. She wasn’t even allowed outside the grounds on her own. She was always protected and minded and watched over. It seemed like a very strange life to me.
Finally, Maeve put down her brush with a big sigh. ‘This portrait really isn’t turning out so well,’ she said.
‘Can I….?’
‘No! You can’t see. I’m not proud of this one at all.’
As she said the words, she grabbed the page and tore it into tiny pieces.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I…’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ she said with a big smile. ‘It’s not your fault. We’ve got lots of time. We can start all over again tomorrow.’
I couldn’t smile with her. Sitting in this fancy room was very nice, but how long before the other servants punished me for doing something I had no choice about at all?
* * *
I was still worried when I went into the servants dining hall for supper. I went towards my usual place, but stopped when I noticed that everyone was staring at me. I checked that my cap was on straight, and that I didn’t have any terrible stains on my apron, but I couldn’t find anything wrong.
‘Look at Miss Fancy,’ said one man, and everyone laughed.
‘Pretty as a picture,’ said another, which made everyone laugh even more.
‘Get out your paintbrushes, lads,’ said another. ‘The model is here.’
The teasing went on and on. Nearly everyone had something clever to say. I put my head down and walked towards my place with tears in my eyes. This was so unfair.
And then Maggie, the laundry maid, stepped towards the laughing men, shaking her fist.
‘Leave her alone, the whole lot of you. None of this is Lily’s fault. She’s only doing what she’s told – like we all have to do. So you can shut your faces.’
‘Or what?’ asked one lad, pretending to look scared. ‘I’m shaking in my boots.’
‘Or I’ll…..’ Maggie was tiny, and even though she had a fierce look in her eyes, I had no idea what she was supposed to do now. It was nice of her to stand up for me, but I didn’t want her to suffer for it.
‘What’s all this noise about? What’s going on?’
It was Mr Kilgallon, and he did not look happy.
‘Nothing, sir,’ said one of the men.
‘Just a joke,’ said another.
Now Mrs Bailey came in. She looked at the men, and then she saw me with my big red face, and the stupid tears, which were now dripping down my cheeks and onto my apron. She knew everything that happened amongst the servants and I’m sure it didn’t take her long to work out what the ‘joke’ was.
‘If there’s any more of this, there’ll be no cakes for a week,’ she said. ‘Do you all understand?’
Now the men looked like little children whose toys had been taken away from them.
The man who had started it all looked at me, and seemed surprised to see my tears. ‘I’m truly sorry,’ he said. ‘We didn’t mean any harm – and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’
I could see he meant what he said. I’d noticed that he was a man that the others all listened to, so I nodded to show him that it was all right.
‘Thank you, for standing up for me, Maggie,’ I whispered as we sat down. ‘That was brave of you.’
‘Anything for a friend,’ said Maggie, and then we all had our supper.