are these? You mean to say there are yet more comin’?’
Bertie nodded. Lowering his voice and leaning towards them, he said, ‘Aye, there are ladies from the brothel in town comin’ to entertain ’em, from what I overheard the Master tellin’ his cronies.’
‘God above!’ Granny Reid quickly crossed herself as she wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Didn’t I tell you this place were becomin’ a den o’ vice? That lot in there ain’t stopped drinkin’ an’ gamblin’ since they arrived, an’ now this. Huh! It’s a fair disgrace, so it is. Martha – I want you to keep as far away from ’em as yer can. I don’t want the likes o’ them mixin’ wi’ my girls. Do you hear me?’ She shook a large wooden spoon at Martha as the girl nodded mutely then turning back to Bertie she demanded, ‘An’ are these women goin’ to be stayin’ over? If they are, we’ll have to get some more bedrooms ready.’
‘I can only assume so,’ Bertie muttered.
Granny Reid stared off through the window towards the lake. ‘It’ll be his mill in Attleborough goin’ under next,’ she said worriedly. ‘An’ if he loses that, what will become of us? He may only pay us a meagre wage, but at least we have a roof over us heads an’ food in our bellies.’
‘Now Granny, don’t get thinkin’ the worst,’ Grace soothed as she placed her arm about the woman’s slight shoulders. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. The Master has a good manager at the mill, doesn’t he, Bertie?’
‘Aye, he does,’ Bertie agreed. ‘The problem is, if the Master doesn’t order in the stuff to keep the mill workin’, then even the best manager in the world can’t keep the place runnin’ on fresh air.’
‘Well, happen this ain’t the time to be frettin’ about it,’ Granny now stated matter-of-factly. She ran her kitchen with military precision and even now when she was sorely vexed at the goings-on around her she had no intentions of letting her standards slip. ‘Martha, you go and start to set the table in the dinin’ room, an’ you, Grace, help me to get these vegetables dished up. Happen all we can do is cross each bridge as we come to it.’
Lifting her long brown calico skirt, Martha scuttled away to do as she was told.
At seven o’clock that evening, a carriage pulled up outside and four women emerged, eyeing the house with interest.
‘Just look at the state of ’em,’ Granny Reid said scathingly, as she spied on them from the hall window. ‘If their dresses were cut any lower, their titties would fall out of ’em, so they would. An’ would yer just look at their painted faces.’
‘Shush an’ come away to the kitchen,’ Martha urged as she took the woman’s elbow. ‘The Master will skin us alive if he catches us gawpin’.’
Once back in the sanctuary of the kitchen they found Grace busily working on a length of fine blue satin that the Mistress had left behind. She had found it in the loft and the Master had told her she might have it, so now she spent every spare minute, which were few and far between, transforming it into her wedding dress for when she married Bertie.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she sighed. They had just finished washing up all the dinner pots and now had a little spare time before they had to start the supper for the Master and his guests, and Grace didn’t intend to waste a second of it.
‘It is that,’ Martha said. She adored her older sister for her kind and gentle ways, and would gladly have laid down her life for her, if need be.
Glancing up, she found Granny staring at her. ‘You look worn out,’ the old lady commented as she finished polishing one of the huge copper pans before hanging it with the others above the enormous range. ‘Why don’t you away and get an early night, love? Me an’ Grace can see to the supper. The vegetables are all ready, an’ I only have to slice the cold meats. Everythin’ should run smooth now that the wine order ’as arrived.
Bertie nodded. Lowering his voice and leaning towards them, he said, ‘Aye, there are ladies from the brothel in town comin’ to entertain ’em, from what I overheard the Master tellin’ his cronies.’
‘God above!’ Granny Reid quickly crossed herself as she wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Didn’t I tell you this place were becomin’ a den o’ vice? That lot in there ain’t stopped drinkin’ an’ gamblin’ since they arrived, an’ now this. Huh! It’s a fair disgrace, so it is. Martha – I want you to keep as far away from ’em as yer can. I don’t want the likes o’ them mixin’ wi’ my girls. Do you hear me?’ She shook a large wooden spoon at Martha as the girl nodded mutely then turning back to Bertie she demanded, ‘An’ are these women goin’ to be stayin’ over? If they are, we’ll have to get some more bedrooms ready.’
‘I can only assume so,’ Bertie muttered.
Granny Reid stared off through the window towards the lake. ‘It’ll be his mill in Attleborough goin’ under next,’ she said worriedly. ‘An’ if he loses that, what will become of us? He may only pay us a meagre wage, but at least we have a roof over us heads an’ food in our bellies.’
‘Now Granny, don’t get thinkin’ the worst,’ Grace soothed as she placed her arm about the woman’s slight shoulders. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. The Master has a good manager at the mill, doesn’t he, Bertie?’
‘Aye, he does,’ Bertie agreed. ‘The problem is, if the Master doesn’t order in the stuff to keep the mill workin’, then even the best manager in the world can’t keep the place runnin’ on fresh air.’
‘Well, happen this ain’t the time to be frettin’ about it,’ Granny now stated matter-of-factly. She ran her kitchen with military precision and even now when she was sorely vexed at the goings-on around her she had no intentions of letting her standards slip. ‘Martha, you go and start to set the table in the dinin’ room, an’ you, Grace, help me to get these vegetables dished up. Happen all we can do is cross each bridge as we come to it.’
Lifting her long brown calico skirt, Martha scuttled away to do as she was told.
At seven o’clock that evening, a carriage pulled up outside and four women emerged, eyeing the house with interest.
‘Just look at the state of ’em,’ Granny Reid said scathingly, as she spied on them from the hall window. ‘If their dresses were cut any lower, their titties would fall out of ’em, so they would. An’ would yer just look at their painted faces.’
‘Shush an’ come away to the kitchen,’ Martha urged as she took the woman’s elbow. ‘The Master will skin us alive if he catches us gawpin’.’
Once back in the sanctuary of the kitchen they found Grace busily working on a length of fine blue satin that the Mistress had left behind. She had found it in the loft and the Master had told her she might have it, so now she spent every spare minute, which were few and far between, transforming it into her wedding dress for when she married Bertie.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she sighed. They had just finished washing up all the dinner pots and now had a little spare time before they had to start the supper for the Master and his guests, and Grace didn’t intend to waste a second of it.
‘It is that,’ Martha said. She adored her older sister for her kind and gentle ways, and would gladly have laid down her life for her, if need be.
Glancing up, she found Granny staring at her. ‘You look worn out,’ the old lady commented as she finished polishing one of the huge copper pans before hanging it with the others above the enormous range. ‘Why don’t you away and get an early night, love? Me an’ Grace can see to the supper. The vegetables are all ready, an’ I only have to slice the cold meats. Everythin’ should run smooth now that the wine order ’as arrived.
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