Chapter 12

Mary looked around what was now her new home. She was three storeys up in the Palace Hotel, on the same landing as most of the resident staff, but she had one of the larger bedrooms and the luxury of a double bed, which she had found to be comfortable after her first night in the hotel. The whole room was luxurious compared to Riley’s Court; she had a dressing table, a wardrobe and a washstand, and a shared bathroom at the end of the hallway with hot and cold water, something she had only ever dreamed of.

She was blessed, she thought, as she looked around and then went to the window to pull back the curtains and look down onto the busy Headrow that ran through the centre of Leeds. There, she could see horses and carts and cabs making their way back and forward while people hurried about their business and stopped and talked to one another. She’d never be short of something to watch, she thought, as she went over to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Within it was the one thing that Mary was not happy about as she stood in her vest and bloomers …

Along with her new position and room had come the responsibility of dressing the part and she had been sent to see Madame Boulevard at Sharp and Wright’s, the dressmakers with whom the Winfields had an account and who had measured her up for four delightful new dresses to wear while working. The dresses were beautiful; all four were delicate and ornately decorated with lace, sequin and fake pearls that caught the light and shimmered as she walked. It was what she had to wear under the dress that she hated – a corset that pulled her waist in and made it very hard to breathe. She hated it, but all the ladies of fashion were wearing it, seemingly, so she must do the same. She’d been able to stand her ground a little and insist that she would have a front-laced corset, rather than have to ask the assistance of a maid every morning to pull her laces tight up her back, but now, as she fit the corset around her body and started to lace herself up tightly, binding the tops of her hips and squeezing her waist into the smallest shape yet, she was near to the point of swearing. There was something to be said for being an ordinary working-class lass who didn’t need such finery. How was she to go about her work, trussed up like a goose at Christmas, she wondered when she finally secured the ribbons tight and looked at herself in the mirror. If God had meant to make women that shape he would have done so in the first place, she thought, as she slipped the dress of her choice over her shoulders and struggled to button it up without the aid of a maid.

It had taken her half an hour longer than usual just to get dressed and now she would have to see to her hair before going downstairs and eating breakfast in the kitchen, along with the other staff who lived in and whom she had yet to meet. Then she was to be introduced to the waiters and three girls she was in charge of, who were to serve behind the bar before the grand opening at noon. It was to be a big day at the Palace Hotel, one that a lot of people had been waiting for, not least Thomas and William Winfield, who had sunk a lot of money into their new venture and now it was time to see some reward.

She parted her long dark hair in the middle and braided each of the hanks before plaiting it, then coiling it around her head and fixing it in place on each side of her face; she then placed a pair of jet earrings that had been Nell’s in her ears. She smiled at her reflection and wondered what Nell would have thought about her looking and living like this. Not to mention her dear mother, who had, so briefly, tasted a fleeting glimpse of the good life, only to have it taken away from her … She was not going to let that happen to her, not if she had her way.

Mary stood up, quelled the butterflies in her stomach, and tried to forget the restrictions of her corset as she made her way along the corridor and down three flights of stairs to the kitchen, where she knew the staff, who were valued and were key to the running of the new hotel, were to sit and dine together of a morning. She breathed in and composed herself, telling herself that everybody was in the same boat this morning, all new, all wondering who else they were working with and if they would all gel together. It had been obvious from an earlier meeting with all the staff there were going to be teething problems but nothing that couldn’t be sorted. She should have nothing to worry about, she convinced herself as she opened the staff’s kitchen door and walked into the room.

‘Good morning,’ she said and smiled at the faces around the table, watching as a young maid bobbed and waited for her to be seated before filling her teacup with tea and placing the toast in front of her.

‘Good morning. So, you are employed here with the rest of us? May I ask your name?’ A stern-looking gentleman of middle age, sitting at the end of the table, enquired and looked at the rest of the faces as they all gazed at Mary.

‘I’m Mary Reynolds. I’m here to manage the bar, especially the girls behind it and the waiters. I feel exceptionally privileged to be joining you all this morning.’ Mary smiled and unfolded her napkin on her knee and reached for some toast.

‘I’m Mr Roger Birbeck and I’m the general manager. I think you will find that you are answerable to me, as is everyone at this table.’ He gestured arrogantly and puffed his chest out with pride as he looked around at what he thought was his domain.

‘I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mr Birbeck, but I think if you ask Mr Thomas or Mr William Winfield, they will tell you that the bar area is my domain and mine only. However, I am sure that you will have complete management of the rest of the hotel’s staff.’ Mary was going to stand her ground; she knew that she was answerable to no one but the Winfields for the running of the bar and she wasn’t going to let this pompous man think otherwise.

The rest of the staff looked down at their plates and tried to ignore the conversation unfolding in front of them.

‘I think that you are incorrect there, Miss Reynolds. I presume it is Miss,’ he said caustically. ‘I will go this minute and get clarification from Thomas Winfield. This needs to be sorted straight away.’ Roger Birbeck rose from his chair, throwing his napkin down on his plate. The rest of the staff were quiet until he disappeared out of the room.

‘I’m Raymond,’ a thin, tired-looking man smiled at Mary as he spoke. ‘I look after the wine cellar, so we’ll be seeing a lot of one another. This is Madge who’s in charge of the housemaids and Geoff over there is in charge of the stables. Mr Braithwaite is the main cook – or I should say, chef, if grumpy Birbeck was here. We’ve all been talked to as though we had dirt on our shoes by him, so don’t take it to heart.’

‘It’s nice to meet you all. It looks like I’ve got off to a bad start with Roger Birbeck, but I know that he has nothing to do with my part of the hotel, no matter what he thinks. He can do what he wants with the rest, but I’m guessing by his attitude he’ll run roughshod over the lot of us if he’s given half a chance.’ Mary smiled and looked at all the faces that were gazing at her.

‘He’s there for problems and problems only. I’m not having him dallying in my kitchen,’ Mr Braithwaite announced. ‘He’ll have to find his position here like all of us and learn to work together with us. None of us are any better than the rest, else we wouldn’t need to work.’

‘Quite true, Mr Braithwaite,’ Raymond said with gusto. ‘The Winfields will tell him exactly what his duties are. I think he’d like to take command because he’s ex-army. Did you not hear him say that he’d seen service in China?’

‘Well, he can bugger off back – and he’d better not come near me and my stables. I know what needs doing and with my two stable lads, I’ll do it and it’ll be without his help.’ Geoff grinned and looked around the table.

Mary smiled and got on with her breakfast. With the exception of Roger Birbeck, the rest of the staff sitting around the table were just like her and she was sure Roger would eventually fit in once he got used to his new role in life.

Mary walked up the stairs after eating a very meagre breakfast – if that was how corsets made you feel, she thought, no wonder everyone fainted while wearing them. She’d been served one of the best breakfasts ever seen but had not been able to indulge due to the corset’s restrictions. On her days off, she vowed, she would not wear it and just enjoy her food. She was thinking of that when she reached the large hallway and saw Roger Birbeck talking to Thomas Winfield as they stood next to the reception desk. She hurried past them, not wanting to become part of the debate, but couldn’t help but notice the redness in Roger’s cheeks and the anger on Thomas Winfield’s face; she hoped that it was not all of her making as she quickly made her way into her domain and stood and looked around her. In another two hours, the place would be full to the rafters with drinkers, guests and the curious of Leeds. She, along with her girls, would have to put on a show, smile and serve drinks – and they would have to do that every day, come rain or shine. She ran her hand along the highly polished bar and looked at the row upon row of bottles, at the glasses all waiting to be filled and drunk from. This bar was like no other in Leeds and it was bound to be a success – she’d make it a success, she and her girls, who she would encourage to smile and chat with each and every customer and listen to their woes. She leaned against the bar and closed her eyes for a moment of dreaming but was suddenly awakened by the voice of William Winfield.

‘Lord, look at you. You look absolutely beautiful, if I may say so!’ William smiled. ‘Definitely the right person for the right job; my father and I were right.’

Mary blushed as William’s glance swept her up and down.

‘I hear that you’ve had a run-in with Roger Birbeck; he’s just been complaining to my father but he got short shrift. I think it was a case of him not understanding his initial duties, so we all know where we stand now. He thought he was in charge of the entire hotel, but we have told him he’s there in case of any problems and that our staff should find him approachable, not an ogre. To manage with a delicate but firm hand, not to go in ham-fisted.’ William looked around him. ‘Are you ready to meet your girls? I think that you’ll find that we’ve chosen wisely. There’s a brunette, a blonde and a redhead and they are all genuinely lovely, all from different backgrounds but all with lovely manners, which is what counts, and they will all do their jobs well, especially with the help of the waiters, most of whom have come from our other hotel in Leeds, so they are all experienced.’ William looked around him. ‘My father is proud of this place and I’m so grateful for his gift to Faith and me.’

‘You must both be proud and grateful; I think the Palace is the most glorious place that I have ever stepped foot in. I know I’m going to enjoy my time here and I’m grateful to be working here. I’m sorry I’ve got off to a bad start with Roger Birbeck, and of course I will seek his help if I do have any problems, but I’m rather hoping that will never be the case,’ Mary said, looking at William. He was handsome and well-dressed, a true city gent, and she felt her heart flutter as she caught his eye.

‘I’m sure you won’t. Now, here comes Mr Birbeck and I do believe he is bringing your staff with him, so perhaps now is the time to bury the hatchet.’ William winked and then smiled at the three young women and Roger Birbeck as he made his way out of the bar.

Mary waited until Roger and the girls reached her. ‘Thank you for showing these young ladies to me, Mr Birbeck. Ladies, would you mind sitting in the seats over there, until I have had a word in private with Mr Birbeck?’ Mary looked at the three young women who were all dressed in different colours of the same dress, which had been especially designed and made for the Palace Hotel; they all looked absolutely stunning and did as she had asked.

Roger Birbeck stood in front of Mary and dropped his head. ‘I’m glad that you are still speaking to me, Miss Reynolds. I feel I perhaps owe you an apology, now that I have been put in the picture of how the bar is to run. I’m used to everybody jumping to my tune, having been a sergeant major in Her Majesty’s army. I feel perhaps that I have overstretched my rank with most of the staff here already.’

‘And perhaps I was quick to judge. Now, how about we start over again? We can’t afford ill-feeling between any of us if we are to work well together. I will, of course, ask for your advice if I need it and report to you if anything untoward happens. But at present, thank you for showing my girls to me.’ Mary smiled and held out her hand. ‘Please, call me Mary, and yes, you are right – I am single, else I would not be working here, doing this job. However, now I need to get to know my staff before the doors are open to the world and I’m sure you have many things to do.’

‘Apologies it is, then. I look forward to working with you, Mary, and I’ll try not to be so brusque in the future. The waiters will be yours, as and when you need them, I’ll see to that.’ Roger stood and then quickly turned away with his usual military swagger. He’d been put firmly in his place when it came to Mary Reynolds, who seemed to have special favour with the Winfields, so he would pay heed to that in the future.

‘Now, ladies, I’m sorry that you have to wait for my attention.’ Mary walked over to the three girls who were sitting quietly together, looking around at the bar and room which was going to be their home eight hours or more every day. ‘I’m Miss Reynolds, but please call me Mary unless we are speaking in front of Mr Winfield Senior – he would prefer you to show me respect. However, I’m not that worried – as long as you work hard and do as I say, you can call me whatever name you like. Now, each of you tell me your name and a little about yourself. We have time to get acquainted, although before the doors are opened and customers made welcome, there is to be an interview and photography event on the main steps and the Winfields would like all their staff to take part.’ Mary smiled and watched the excitement on each girl’s face. ‘Now you, dear: what’s your name and where do you come from and what family do you have?’ Mary looked at the girl with the stunning red hair and waited.

‘I’m Molly Askew, Miss Reynolds, but my friends just call me Moll for short. I live over at Kirkstall with my mother and father; he works at the iron forge and my mother keeps house. I’ve been working for Thwaites Brewery, so I know my beer, but I also know how to look after folk and make sure they have what they need.’ The other two girls sniggered at her last few words.

‘I tell you what,’ Mary said sharply, ‘there will be none of that, you two. We will run a respectable bar and I expect you to keep yourselves to yourselves while you’re at work. What you do after hours is your own business. Thank you, Molly, and now how about you? Let’s hear a bit about you.’ Mary looked at the dark-haired girl, who was the bonniest of the three, with the bluest of eyes that twinkled when she laughed.

‘My name is Shona Brown and, as you can probably tell by my accent, I’m not from around these parts. I came down from Glasgow looking for work in the woollen mills when my ma died, but I hated the grease and the heat and the smell of the wool and I wasn’t about to lose an arm or a leg to the spinning machines that move so quickly. I live in a rented room just off Inkerman Street and I was working at the Wheatsheaf until Mr Winfield offered me work here. I can’t thank him enough! I never thought that I’d be sitting here, in this posh place, in clothes as fine as these, waiting for my photograph to be taken.’ Shona hardly stopped for breath as she grinned and looked around her and then folded her hands, noticing that Mary was smiling at her with amusement.

‘And that leaves just you, my dear?’ Mary nodded at the blonde girl, who seemed to be the quietest of them all.

‘I’m Beth Harper; I live with my mother and my baby in the terraced houses just off Park Lane. My husband died in a pit disaster and I’ve been making a living as best I can since his death. My baby is only nine months old, but he’ll not cause any bother, Miss Reynolds; my mother will look after him when I’m at work. Like Shona, I am ever so grateful for my employment and won’t let you down behind the bar. I know how to pull a pint and I know my drinks – and my manners, come to that.’ Beth looked at Mary worriedly; she knew that she would be thinking that with a baby came responsibility but she only hoped that Mary would have some sympathy for her plight.

‘Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll not hold having a child to raise against you. You must miss your husband and you must have been very young when you got married – and to be left so soon?’ Mary looked at her with sympathy and compassion; she was the one who needed the job the most and the one she would have to protect.

‘I was eighteen when we got married and nineteen when I became a widow and a mother. If it hadn’t had been for my mother’s support I’d have been on the streets trying to make a living – either that or the poor house,’ Beth said softly as Shona put her arm around her and gently hugged her.

‘Well, you are part of the Palace staff now, my Gin Girls, as I’m going to call you, as I well know what drink the customers will want the most. As long as you smile, serve the customers and make them welcome – but not too welcome, Molly,’ Mary said, grinning, ‘we will work well together. Mr Birbeck is to see that we have waiters when we come back from having our photographs taken and they will serve the people sitting in chairs. Leave them to it unless you can see that there’s a table that needs clearing or somebody is asking for your attention. I want you girls behind the bar, encouraging everyone to drink and spend money. The more money they spend, the more secure our jobs – and I include mine in that. I’ve been low in life too, so I know all about making ends meet. Now, all of you stand up and let me get a good look at all of you. Do you like your outfits? At least they look more comfortable than mine!’ Mary looked at her girls as they stood and tried to look as comfortable as she expected them to. ‘Very smart and practical! I love the way that they have given you glittering black ties at the necks of your blouses and the same on the ends of your sleeves and your skirts are not too tight but at the same not too flared. You all look really smart.’ Mary smiled and stood back.

‘I should say, woo-hoo, they all look like the cat’s whiskers!’ A man carrying a suitcase with a hat perched jauntily on his head stopped and grinned at the group as he walked past them. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself, if you don’t mind me saying,’ he added, flashing the whitest set of teeth Mary had ever seen and making the girls giggle.

‘I’m sorry, but who are you?’ Mary asked sharply, feeling rather embarrassed by the man’s comments.

‘I’m Leonard T. Barns and I’m here to play that little baby over there. To tinkle on the ivories while you girls get my listeners more drunk by the minute.’ He motioned to the large grand piano that was at the end of the bar. ‘I’m sure going to have something nice to watch while I play away.’ Leonard said with an American brawl.

‘I’m sure we all find your comments flattering, but perhaps you should keep them to yourself.’ Mary looked at the man who, to her mind, was cheekily outspoken.

‘I say as I see and you all look fine, just right for this swanky place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and admire from afar and set myself up for the crowd that’s gathering outside. There are reporters and a photographer – it’s a big day for sure.’ Leonard grinned and looked back at the girls as he walked over to the piano and placed his case, out of which which he produced a trumpet, on the top.

‘Right, a quick look behind the bar, girls, although Mr Winfield has already told me that you’ve been shown the ropes and where everything is at, and then we’ll go and join the rest of them on the steps for the all-important photograph.’ Mary ushered her girls like a mother hen to the back of the bar and answered all the questions the girls came up with as they looked at the different drinks and shapes of glasses and managed the three ornate brass cash machines that stood proudly on the shelf behind the bar. She soon realised that any drink request could be dealt with because all three girls had been taught well. The Winfields had made excellent choices, she thought as she walked with them through the lobby to the grand entrance and the steps where it would seem that the whole of Leeds had gathered for the grand opening of the Palace Hotel.