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Authors: Rosie Goodwin
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returned to washing the pots and the cook kept her head down as the woman spoke. ‘I believe you have come to apply for a position?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Maria stood up and gazed back at her solemnly as the woman continued to stare at her.
Could Maria have known it, Miss Belle was actually quite pleased with what she saw. The girl looked clean – well, cleaner than most from these parts – and although she was wet with snow, the woman could see that she was tidy. The last girl she had employed from the village had been infested with headlice, which had led to many of the inmates having to have their heads shaved.
‘Have you had any experience of working in places such as this?’ she enquired now.
‘No, I haven’t,’ Maria admitted. ‘I have been working in the post office in the village.’
‘And may I ask your name, girl?’
‘My name is Maria Mundy and my father is the preacher at the chapel in Chapel End.’
‘I see.’ The woman stared at her thoughtfully, then lifting her skirts she instructed her: ‘Come through to my sitting room and we will continue this conversation there.’
She moved away and as Maria followed her, the cook gave her an encouraging wink.
Maria soon found herself in a room that appeared to be almost as bleak as the rest of the place, save for a fire in the grate and a comfy chair at the side of it. A bed, which was neatly made, stood in one corner and there was a small table and chair where Miss Belle sat to read and eat her meals. On another wall stood a plain wardrobe and a chest of drawers. There was also a well-stocked bookcase but Maria noted that the floor was bare, and despite the fire in the grate the room felt cold.
‘Now then,’ Miss Belle said when she had closed the door. ‘Let me tell you about the job. First of all, I would have to have your solemn promise that you would never speak to anyone outside these four walls about anything or anyone that you see here. Would you feel able to do that?’
When Maria nodded solemnly she hurried on, ‘We have a certain new er . . . resident who is expected to be here for a few months. The lady in question is of good family and therefore she will need the services of a lady’s maid to assist her with dressing, bathing, et cetera. Again I must stress that your discretion would have to be without question. Your wage would be eight shillings and sixpence per week and you would get free meals. You would also be issued with a uniform. You would be given each Sunday afternoon off, but other than that you would not be allowed off the premises. How does that sound to you?’
‘It sounds perfectly satisfactory,’ Maria assured her calmly. She had only been paid five shillings per week at the post office, and had to go home for her meals.
For a moment the woman surveyed her thoughtfully. Then, making a decision, she told her, ‘Very well, I am happy to offer you the post. If you are agreeable to the terms, I will ask you to sign the employees’ register.’
Maria nodded as the woman marched away to return with a large ledger.
‘Put your mark there. A cross will do,’ she instructed, dipping a quill into a small inkpot that stood on the table and handing it to Maria.
Maria took it from her, and as she neatly wrote her name the older woman’s eyes stretched.
‘You can write!’ Her voice betrayed her amazement.
‘All of my family can write – my father taught us,’ Maria answered proudly. ‘Now when would you like me to start?’
‘Would tomorrow morning at seven o’clock be convenient?’
‘Yes, ma’am. It would.’ Maria rose from her seat then, leaving Miss Belle slightly nonplussed as she watched her go. She just hoped that the girl would be as confident once she had met her new charge, since Isabelle Montgomery, as Mrs Bradshaw had informed her, was proving to be somewhat of a handful – to put it mildly.
Chapter Six
Charles and Helena Montgomery were at breakfast on Monday morning when there was a
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Maria stood up and gazed back at her solemnly as the woman continued to stare at her.
Could Maria have known it, Miss Belle was actually quite pleased with what she saw. The girl looked clean – well, cleaner than most from these parts – and although she was wet with snow, the woman could see that she was tidy. The last girl she had employed from the village had been infested with headlice, which had led to many of the inmates having to have their heads shaved.
‘Have you had any experience of working in places such as this?’ she enquired now.
‘No, I haven’t,’ Maria admitted. ‘I have been working in the post office in the village.’
‘And may I ask your name, girl?’
‘My name is Maria Mundy and my father is the preacher at the chapel in Chapel End.’
‘I see.’ The woman stared at her thoughtfully, then lifting her skirts she instructed her: ‘Come through to my sitting room and we will continue this conversation there.’
She moved away and as Maria followed her, the cook gave her an encouraging wink.
Maria soon found herself in a room that appeared to be almost as bleak as the rest of the place, save for a fire in the grate and a comfy chair at the side of it. A bed, which was neatly made, stood in one corner and there was a small table and chair where Miss Belle sat to read and eat her meals. On another wall stood a plain wardrobe and a chest of drawers. There was also a well-stocked bookcase but Maria noted that the floor was bare, and despite the fire in the grate the room felt cold.
‘Now then,’ Miss Belle said when she had closed the door. ‘Let me tell you about the job. First of all, I would have to have your solemn promise that you would never speak to anyone outside these four walls about anything or anyone that you see here. Would you feel able to do that?’
When Maria nodded solemnly she hurried on, ‘We have a certain new er . . . resident who is expected to be here for a few months. The lady in question is of good family and therefore she will need the services of a lady’s maid to assist her with dressing, bathing, et cetera. Again I must stress that your discretion would have to be without question. Your wage would be eight shillings and sixpence per week and you would get free meals. You would also be issued with a uniform. You would be given each Sunday afternoon off, but other than that you would not be allowed off the premises. How does that sound to you?’
‘It sounds perfectly satisfactory,’ Maria assured her calmly. She had only been paid five shillings per week at the post office, and had to go home for her meals.
For a moment the woman surveyed her thoughtfully. Then, making a decision, she told her, ‘Very well, I am happy to offer you the post. If you are agreeable to the terms, I will ask you to sign the employees’ register.’
Maria nodded as the woman marched away to return with a large ledger.
‘Put your mark there. A cross will do,’ she instructed, dipping a quill into a small inkpot that stood on the table and handing it to Maria.
Maria took it from her, and as she neatly wrote her name the older woman’s eyes stretched.
‘You can write!’ Her voice betrayed her amazement.
‘All of my family can write – my father taught us,’ Maria answered proudly. ‘Now when would you like me to start?’
‘Would tomorrow morning at seven o’clock be convenient?’
‘Yes, ma’am. It would.’ Maria rose from her seat then, leaving Miss Belle slightly nonplussed as she watched her go. She just hoped that the girl would be as confident once she had met her new charge, since Isabelle Montgomery, as Mrs Bradshaw had informed her, was proving to be somewhat of a handful – to put it mildly.
Chapter Six
Charles and Helena Montgomery were at breakfast on Monday morning when there was a
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