Her first Sunday off had finally arrived and as Marcie stretched and yawned in bed that morning, she smiled. It was so lovely not having to get up in the dark and set about lighting the fire in the kitchen. It was her most hated job, though, if truth be told, she didn’t like any of the chores she had to do. Still, she told herself, today was hers to do as she wished with and she intended to enjoy every minute. Eliza, she noted, was already up and about, no doubt in the washroom getting herself ready to go to see her family.
Marcie, too, was meant to be going home. Nessie was expecting her and had promised to have a nice dinner ready for her, but Marcie had made other arrangements. The fact that Nessie would worry when she didn’t turn up hardly entered her head. Marcie, as usual, was thinking only of herself.
Today George was taking her out for the whole day! And on the train too; she had never been on a train before and could hardly wait. He was taking her to Coventry where, he’d said, there was less chance of them being seen together, and although that had rankled, she had agreed. They were going to visit the cathedral and then he had told her he would take her somewhere really swanky for lunch.
She frowned as she wondered what she should wear. Even her Sunday best outfit was terribly outdated and shabby but she supposed it would have to do for now … Unless Eliza had something she could borrow. The thought made her spring out of bed and when Eliza returned from the washroom with her hair damp and a towel over her arm she found Marcie waiting for her and smiling sweetly.
‘I don’t suppose you have something pretty I might borrow just for today, do you?’ she asked. ‘Only I want to look my best seeing as I haven’t seen my family since I started here and I can’t buy myself anything until I get paid.’ She felt no remorse whatsoever for lying.
‘I dare say I could find you something.’ Eliza crossed to her chest of drawers and began to rummage through it until eventually she held up a rather pretty white blouse. It was high-necked with ruffles down the front and at the cuffs.
‘This might fit you if you have a skirt to go with it,’ she suggested. ‘I don’t think my skirts would fit you.’
Marcie eyed the blouse. It was a huge improvement on her own, though not what she would have chosen, if truth be known. It would mean she would have to wear her own skirt which was darned and well past its best, but then she supposed it was better than nothing.
‘Thanks, and I don’t suppose you’ve got a nice shawl I could borrow as well, have you?’
Eliza looked uncertain as she held up her Sunday best shawl. She’d been intending to wear it herself today but reasoned she could wear her old woollen one. She was only going to visit her family after all. Of course, Marcie was too, hadn’t she just told her so? But then she probably wanted to make a good impression when visiting their new home for the first time in case she bumped into her family’s employer.
‘Here, take this.’ When she held the shawl out, Marcie’s eyes lit up. It was made of a thick woollen material that had a slight shimmer to it. It was a lovely pale green colour that reminded Marcie of the leaves on the trees when they were first beginning to unfurl in the spring, and it was edged all around with a deep fringe.
‘Thanks.’ Marcie snatched the shawl greedily in case Eliza should have a change of heart and then she too hurried off to the washroom, impatient for this special day to begin.
By the time she came back to their room, Eliza was just leaving and once the girl had gone, Marcie began to pin her hair up and get ready herself. The blouse actually looked much better on than it did off and with the pretty shawl about her shoulders she preened in the cracked mirror above her chest of drawers.
‘Hmm, not bad, even if I do say so myself,’ she told her reflection as she pinched her cheeks to add a little colour to them. Then, snatching up her bag, she set off for the railway station. This was another thing that she and George had argued about. He would be driven there in his father’s carriage and it seemed silly for her to have to walk but George had again pointed out that it was still too soon for anyone to guess what they meant to each other. Far better that they meet on the platform, he had insisted, and having little choice Marcie had reluctantly agreed.
It was a good walk into town and by the time the train station came into view, Marcie’s teeth were chattering with cold. But she forgot about her discomfort as she hurried to the platform and headed for the waiting room; George shouldn’t be long now. Meanwhile she warmed her hands at the little fire that was blazing in there and hummed merrily to herself. When the clock on the platform struck the hour, the first flickers of unease sprang to life in her stomach. George was cutting it very fine. But then, as she knew of old, he was almost always late.
At five past ten the train roared into the station like some great monster belching smoke and steam into the sky. Marcie had never been so close to one before and felt quite nervous about getting aboard. Mind you, if George didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be getting on at all. She began to count the minutes and then the seconds until suddenly the monster shuddered and roared into life again and pulled away from the platform. Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. Where was George and what should she do now? She began to pace up and down the close confines of the waiting room and eventually decided that there was bound to be another train. If George was merely late they could catch that one, but she’d give him what for when he did show his face, she promised herself.
At half past ten she ventured back out onto the road outside to see if there was any sign of him. She was so frustrated that she felt she might explode. This was the one day a month she had to herself, the only day, and here was George making her waste it hanging about for him. When the cold once more began to bite into her she returned to the waiting room and as she passed the ticket office the man there smiled at her sympathetically.
‘Been stood up have yer, luvvie?’
Marcie bristled, drew herself up to her full height and stuck her chin out proudly. ‘Not at all,’ she answered. ‘My friend has probably just been delayed, that’s all.’
He nodded and she went back to the waiting room where she continued to pace. As the minutes passed, Marcie was fairly sure that he wasn’t going to come. With what pride she could muster, she once more left the waiting room and sailed past the ticket office into the street outside. Only then did she allow her chin to sink to her chest as she tried to swallow back her tears. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks. The question now was, what was she to do with the rest of her day? She baulked at the thought of returning to the house. Those of the staff that were there were bound to ask questions and in the mood she was in Marcie was afraid she might give them more than they’d bargained for. It was too cold to just walk the streets, so that left her with only one alternative. She would have to go and visit Nessie and the rest of the family, as she’d promised.
Her steps dragged as she walked away from the station, her eyes still trained on the road ahead as she prayed for a sight of the fine Dorsey carriage, but the streets were almost deserted.
She had no trouble at all in finding Chevalier’s Undertaker and she paused outside to stare at the exterior. It looked much nicer than the last time she’d passed it, she thought. Down to Nessie, no doubt. She stepped inside and almost immediately a door behind the long, highly polished counter opened and a gentleman appeared. This must be Mr Chevalier, she thought. He was much younger than she’d expected and quite good-looking too, so she instantly batted her long, dark eyelashes at him and dimpled into a sweet smile.
‘I’m here to see Nessie, she’s my sister,’ she explained and he gave her a welcoming smile.
‘But of course, she did tell me that she was expecting you today. Go through that door there, their living quarters are out the back.’
Marcie gave a little bob of her knee and sashayed towards the door he had pointed to. As she pushed it open the heat wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
‘Marcie!’ Nessie had been in the process of basting the pork joint in the oven but now she rammed it back in and with a cry of joy she raced across the room to welcome her sister. Reuben was sitting in the chair by the fire but he barely glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. He and Marcie hadn’t got on well for a long time now and he found he couldn’t pretend to be pleased to see her when he wasn’t. As for Joseph, Marcie barely glanced at him as she submitted to Nessie’s embrace but that was nothing new.
‘So, how are you? You look well. Do you like your job? Are they treating you all right?’
Marcie, who was still stinging about George letting her down, held up her hand to stop her sister’s flow of words.
‘I’m fine and it looks like you are too. You’ve dropped on your feet here, haven’t you? I haven’t seen a fire like that for some time, and real coal an’ all. An’ that Frenchman is quite handsome, ain’t he?’ As she spoke, she took off Eliza’s shawl and flung it carelessly across the back of a chair.
‘I think we have actually.’ Nessie looked around at their little home and beamed with pride. Everything gleamed, from the floorboards she had painstakingly waxed and polished to the old copper pans suspended above the fireplace. ‘Mr Chevalier is more than generous,’ she gushed as she reached for the big stone teapot. ‘We can help ourselves to as much coal as we need from the coal shed in the yard and he’s more than kind when it comes to food. I cook him a meal each day but he insists on giving me enough money to feed us all. We’ve already almost saved up enough to pay off Mr Grimshaw. Then we’re going to start saving for a doctor to look at Joseph.’ Her smile vanished as she glanced at the child who was sitting on the rug staring at the brightly coloured bricks in front of him. He didn’t even play with them anymore.
‘I think you’ll just have to accept that he’s a simpleton,’ Marcie said flatly, helping herself to sugar from the heavy glass bowl in the middle of the table.
‘Marcie, how could you say such a horrible thing!’ Nessie was clearly distressed but Marcie merely shrugged.
‘I’m only voicing what you don’t care to admit.’ She stirred her tea, ignoring the tears in her sister’s eyes and her brother’s angry glare. Why can’t they see it? she asked herself, as she forced herself to look at Joseph. He was like a little cabbage sitting there yet they both clearly doted on him. Still, at least she was well out of it and soon she would shock them when George made her his wife. She imagined herself rolling up outside in the Dorsey carriage to see them and her smile returned. Even though he had let her down badly she was sure he must have had good cause to.
The next few hours went by in the blink of an eye and soon the afternoon was darkening. Marcie didn’t have to be back till seven o’clock but she was eager to seek George out and was bored with listening to Nessie go on about how kind her new employer was.
‘Right, well I’d best set off,’ she said, lifting Eliza’s shawl and wrapping it tightly about her head and shoulders. An icy wind had blown up and she could hear it howling around the courtyard outside.
Nessie immediately looked concerned. ‘Do you have to go so soon?’ She knew that she would have to wait another whole month before she saw her sister again and she was worried about her walking home alone. The madman that had killed their mother and the other two women was still out there somewhere.
‘I’ll walk you back, if you like? You shouldn’t be out on these streets alone.’ Reuben offered but Marcie shook her head.
‘I shall be fine.’ She gave Nessie a perfunctory kiss on the cheek then without another word she left, leaving her sister worriedly gnawing on her lip.
‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’ she asked Rueben anxiously.
He gave a snort of laughter, but beneath it he felt the same fears. ‘Well, put it this way, I don’t think much o’ the chances of anyone who tried to set on our Marcie. She’s got more spirit than a bottle o’ raw gin. I guarantee they’d come off the worse.’
And with that Nessie had to be satisfied.
It seemed to take forever for Eliza to fall asleep that night and Marcie waited impatiently, staring at the moonlight struggling through the window, but at last Eliza began to snore gently and, still fully clothed, Marcie crept out of bed. She reached the stables in no time. She knew every stair that creaked in the servants’ quarters now and had perfected her escape each night.
‘George,’ she hissed as she let herself into the stables. The horses snickered but other than that all was silent. The Dorseys were entertaining some close friends of the family, according to Eliza, so she knew she would have to be extra vigilant this evening when she returned to the house. Some of the other maids were still rushing about serving drinks and the last thing she wanted was to bump into any of them. Quietly she climbed the ladder to the hay loft then she sat impatiently, rubbing her hands together to try to keep them warm. After what seemed like an eternity her patience was rewarded when she heard the barn door open and footsteps crunching across the hay. And then hands on hips she waited for George to appear. He could see at a glance how angry she was and began to fawn over her.
‘Oh, Marcie, I’m so sorry I had to let you down.’ He held his hands out to her in supplication but she slapped them away. ‘Father informed me first thing this morning that we had company coming for the whole day and ordered me to be there. They’re close friends of my family that we’ve known for years and he puts a lot of business my father’s way, so I could hardly refuse. I did try to find you to tell you but you must have already left for the station. I’m so very sorry. Try to imagine the position I was in.’
Slightly mollified, Marcie sniffed. She supposed he had been put in rather an awkward position and the last thing they wanted was to upset his father right now.
‘Just so long as you don’t do it again,’ she muttered and before she knew it she was in his arms and he was fumbling with the buttons on Eliza’s best blouse. From the second she stared into his deep-blue eyes and ran her fingers through his thick, blonde hair she began to soften. Her blouse was open now and as he gently fondled her breast, her nipple stood erect and she sighed with pleasure as he lowered his head and gently began to tease it with his tongue. Then suddenly she was on her back in the hay and his hand was stroking her most private parts and she was putty in his hands. The fact that he had let her down flew right out of her head as she gave herself up to the pure pleasure of their lovemaking.