Read Online Off the Rails by Beryl Kingston - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beryl Kingston
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ready to suck. The silence in the room was intense. The three watching women were holding their breath and even Milly was still and quiet on the maid’s lap. Jane eased her nippletowards that little moving mouth, very, very gently, and the baby gave a sudden lurch of his pale head and latched on.
‘Praise the Lord,’ the housekeeper said.
It took four days of peace and patience before Jane was satisfied that her new charge was feeding as he should and by then she’d settled into the house and her new life. On that first morning a bed was moved into the nursery for her – a proper bed, what luxury! – and that was followed by a pretty little cot for Milly, then a meal of cold meats, bread and cheese was brought up to her on a tray with a tankard of beer and, late in the afternoon , the housekeeper reappeared to introduce herself as Mrs Denman and to report that Sir Mortimer was very pleased to hear what good progress she’d made with little Felix.
‘I was wondering if he had a name yet,’ Jane said. ‘I didn’t like to ask.’
‘Oh indeed he does,’ Mrs Denman told her, looking down at him. ‘It’s a family name. It’s been given to the first son for generations. Sir Mortimer was the second son. His brother Felix died when he was four, which is another reason why Sir Mortimer is so concerned for this baby. It was remiss of me not to tell you that earlier.’
‘We had other things on our minds, ma’am,’ Jane excused them, and was rewarded with a wide smile.
‘Now as to details,’ Ms Denman said. ‘Mr Glendenning wishes me to tell you that your wages will be eight shillings and sixpence a week and all found. You will have your own maid to assist you, of course. It will be her job to wash the baby’s clothes and fetch hot water when you need it and clean the room and look after your little one when you are otherwise engaged with young Felix. You will find she will do everything you ask of her.’
Jane’s thoughts were spinning with such amazement she didn’t know what to say. First a bed of her own and that great platter of food and now this. Eight and six was a fortune, and having a servant to wait on her was something out of a dream. She gulped and struggled and eventually managed an answer, ‘Thank ’ee kindly, ma’am.’
‘Her name is Polly,’ Mrs Denman said, ‘but of course she might have told you that already.’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘You will dine in this room for the time being,’ Mrs Denman said. ‘But when little Felix is settled, I trust you will join us in the servants’ hall.’
How polite she is, Jane thought. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said. ‘I shall be happy to.’
The next day the baby was waking every two or three hours and she fedhim whenever he woke, feeling that the more milk she got inside him the better he would be. By the afternoon of the third day, he was sleeping for several hours between feeds and Jane was beginning to feel she’d made rather a good job of mothering him. And on the morning of the fifth day, he filled his stomach so full it was as tight as a drum, fell asleep as soon as he’d finished feeding and slept soundly. It was blissfully quiet and after a little while, since she had nothing else to do, Jane picked Milly up, settled her on her lap and sang her some of her favourite nursery rhymes. She’d just nibbled at ‘this little finger on the right’ , to Milly’s chortling delight, when she heard someone howling.
‘Now what’s that, Milly?’ she said. It sounded as though it was coming from the next room and, as there was a communicating door between them, she set Milly on the floor and the two of them went to see if they could find out what was happening – not that there was much doubt what it was, given that there’d been a death in the house. The door opened easily and beyond it was another white and gold room, carpeted, curtained and full of delicate furniture. There was a small pale girl in a crumpled white dress, lying on
‘Praise the Lord,’ the housekeeper said.
It took four days of peace and patience before Jane was satisfied that her new charge was feeding as he should and by then she’d settled into the house and her new life. On that first morning a bed was moved into the nursery for her – a proper bed, what luxury! – and that was followed by a pretty little cot for Milly, then a meal of cold meats, bread and cheese was brought up to her on a tray with a tankard of beer and, late in the afternoon , the housekeeper reappeared to introduce herself as Mrs Denman and to report that Sir Mortimer was very pleased to hear what good progress she’d made with little Felix.
‘I was wondering if he had a name yet,’ Jane said. ‘I didn’t like to ask.’
‘Oh indeed he does,’ Mrs Denman told her, looking down at him. ‘It’s a family name. It’s been given to the first son for generations. Sir Mortimer was the second son. His brother Felix died when he was four, which is another reason why Sir Mortimer is so concerned for this baby. It was remiss of me not to tell you that earlier.’
‘We had other things on our minds, ma’am,’ Jane excused them, and was rewarded with a wide smile.
‘Now as to details,’ Ms Denman said. ‘Mr Glendenning wishes me to tell you that your wages will be eight shillings and sixpence a week and all found. You will have your own maid to assist you, of course. It will be her job to wash the baby’s clothes and fetch hot water when you need it and clean the room and look after your little one when you are otherwise engaged with young Felix. You will find she will do everything you ask of her.’
Jane’s thoughts were spinning with such amazement she didn’t know what to say. First a bed of her own and that great platter of food and now this. Eight and six was a fortune, and having a servant to wait on her was something out of a dream. She gulped and struggled and eventually managed an answer, ‘Thank ’ee kindly, ma’am.’
‘Her name is Polly,’ Mrs Denman said, ‘but of course she might have told you that already.’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘You will dine in this room for the time being,’ Mrs Denman said. ‘But when little Felix is settled, I trust you will join us in the servants’ hall.’
How polite she is, Jane thought. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said. ‘I shall be happy to.’
The next day the baby was waking every two or three hours and she fedhim whenever he woke, feeling that the more milk she got inside him the better he would be. By the afternoon of the third day, he was sleeping for several hours between feeds and Jane was beginning to feel she’d made rather a good job of mothering him. And on the morning of the fifth day, he filled his stomach so full it was as tight as a drum, fell asleep as soon as he’d finished feeding and slept soundly. It was blissfully quiet and after a little while, since she had nothing else to do, Jane picked Milly up, settled her on her lap and sang her some of her favourite nursery rhymes. She’d just nibbled at ‘this little finger on the right’ , to Milly’s chortling delight, when she heard someone howling.
‘Now what’s that, Milly?’ she said. It sounded as though it was coming from the next room and, as there was a communicating door between them, she set Milly on the floor and the two of them went to see if they could find out what was happening – not that there was much doubt what it was, given that there’d been a death in the house. The door opened easily and beyond it was another white and gold room, carpeted, curtained and full of delicate furniture. There was a small pale girl in a crumpled white dress, lying on
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