there?”
Gertie shook her head. “They’re both fast asleep. Soon as I get finished with this lot I’m going back to feed them. Hungry little buggers, they are. I’ll be needing a cow to help me feed them soon.”
Mrs. Chubb shook her head, her round face wreathed in smiles. “Just so precious, they are. I looked in on them a short while ago, just to make sure they were still sleeping. Though I daresay we should hear them if they start crying.”
“The whole bleeding village can hear them. I sometimes wonder if madam wishes she hadn’t asked me to live here with them. What if they disturb the guests?”
Mrs. Chubb hurried over to the stove and opened the oven. “Don’t you worry yourself about that, ducks. No one is going to hear those babies abovestairs. The floors are much too thick.”
The warm, rich smell of baked fruit puddings made Gertie feel hungry. She reminded herself she still had some fat to get off her hips if she was ever going to wear her nice clothes again. It would be a long time before she could eat the way she used to before the twins were born.
“Have you given any thought to who’s going to be their godparents yet?” Mrs. Chubb asked as she carried the steaming puddings over to the windowsill.
“No, not yet,” Gertie mumbled.
“Well, you’d better hurry up, my girl. The christening is on Sunday. There isn’t much time left, you know.”
Gertie folded the last of the serviettes, feeling the niggling twinges of worry in her stomach again. The truth was, she didn’t know how to solve the problem without hurting someone’s feelings.
She would have liked to ask Mrs. Chubb to be the babies’ godmother. After all, she was always fussing about them, that was for sure. But the housekeeper was getting onand might not be around to take care of the twins if anything happened to their mother.
What Gertie really wanted was to ask madam and Mr. Baxter, who were really the only parental figures she knew. But that might upset Mrs. Chubb.
It was all a bleeding nuisance, Gertie thought crossly as she stacked the serviettes on a tray. She had enough on her mind without worrying about bloody godparents.
“If I were you,” Mrs. Chubb said, fanning her face with her apron, “I’d ask madam and Mr. Baxter. I’m sure they’d make wonderful godparents for James and Lillian. After all, you did name James after Mr. Sinclair, didn’t you?”
Amazed and immensely relieved at the sudden miraculous solution to her problem, Gertie nodded. “Well, he was the one what hired me to work here in the first place. I always liked the name, too. You know, madam looked like she was going to bleeding cry when I told her I was going to call one of the babies James.”
“I’m sure she did,” the housekeeper said softly. “Just like I did when you chose my middle name for Lillian.”
Gertie grinned. “Well, I like that name, too.”
“Well, I’m sure both madam and Mr. Baxter will be pleased as punch to be asked to be godparents. But I wouldn’t wait too long to ask them if I were you.”
“I won’t.” Gertie looked up as the door swung open.
One of the twins stood in the doorway. Gertie took one look at the scowl on her face and knew it was Daisy. “I’m waiting for the serviettes,” she said, glaring at Gertie.
“All right, all right, I’m coming.” Gertie shoved the tray at her. “Here, if you’re in such a bleeding hurry, take them yourself.”
Daisy grabbed the tray and spun around.
“Is that you, Doris?” Mrs. Chubb asked, peering at the young girl across the room.
“No, it ain’t,” Gertie said as Daisy turned back. “Can’t you tell by that ugly frown on her face?” She looked across at the housemaid. “Don’t you ever smile?”
“Ain’t got nothing to smile about, have I?” Daisy said sullenly.
“Course you bloody do.” Irritated by the girl’s attitude, Gertie slumped down in a chair. “You’ve got a good job, you’ve got a bleeding warm bed and good
Gertie shook her head. “They’re both fast asleep. Soon as I get finished with this lot I’m going back to feed them. Hungry little buggers, they are. I’ll be needing a cow to help me feed them soon.”
Mrs. Chubb shook her head, her round face wreathed in smiles. “Just so precious, they are. I looked in on them a short while ago, just to make sure they were still sleeping. Though I daresay we should hear them if they start crying.”
“The whole bleeding village can hear them. I sometimes wonder if madam wishes she hadn’t asked me to live here with them. What if they disturb the guests?”
Mrs. Chubb hurried over to the stove and opened the oven. “Don’t you worry yourself about that, ducks. No one is going to hear those babies abovestairs. The floors are much too thick.”
The warm, rich smell of baked fruit puddings made Gertie feel hungry. She reminded herself she still had some fat to get off her hips if she was ever going to wear her nice clothes again. It would be a long time before she could eat the way she used to before the twins were born.
“Have you given any thought to who’s going to be their godparents yet?” Mrs. Chubb asked as she carried the steaming puddings over to the windowsill.
“No, not yet,” Gertie mumbled.
“Well, you’d better hurry up, my girl. The christening is on Sunday. There isn’t much time left, you know.”
Gertie folded the last of the serviettes, feeling the niggling twinges of worry in her stomach again. The truth was, she didn’t know how to solve the problem without hurting someone’s feelings.
She would have liked to ask Mrs. Chubb to be the babies’ godmother. After all, she was always fussing about them, that was for sure. But the housekeeper was getting onand might not be around to take care of the twins if anything happened to their mother.
What Gertie really wanted was to ask madam and Mr. Baxter, who were really the only parental figures she knew. But that might upset Mrs. Chubb.
It was all a bleeding nuisance, Gertie thought crossly as she stacked the serviettes on a tray. She had enough on her mind without worrying about bloody godparents.
“If I were you,” Mrs. Chubb said, fanning her face with her apron, “I’d ask madam and Mr. Baxter. I’m sure they’d make wonderful godparents for James and Lillian. After all, you did name James after Mr. Sinclair, didn’t you?”
Amazed and immensely relieved at the sudden miraculous solution to her problem, Gertie nodded. “Well, he was the one what hired me to work here in the first place. I always liked the name, too. You know, madam looked like she was going to bleeding cry when I told her I was going to call one of the babies James.”
“I’m sure she did,” the housekeeper said softly. “Just like I did when you chose my middle name for Lillian.”
Gertie grinned. “Well, I like that name, too.”
“Well, I’m sure both madam and Mr. Baxter will be pleased as punch to be asked to be godparents. But I wouldn’t wait too long to ask them if I were you.”
“I won’t.” Gertie looked up as the door swung open.
One of the twins stood in the doorway. Gertie took one look at the scowl on her face and knew it was Daisy. “I’m waiting for the serviettes,” she said, glaring at Gertie.
“All right, all right, I’m coming.” Gertie shoved the tray at her. “Here, if you’re in such a bleeding hurry, take them yourself.”
Daisy grabbed the tray and spun around.
“Is that you, Doris?” Mrs. Chubb asked, peering at the young girl across the room.
“No, it ain’t,” Gertie said as Daisy turned back. “Can’t you tell by that ugly frown on her face?” She looked across at the housemaid. “Don’t you ever smile?”
“Ain’t got nothing to smile about, have I?” Daisy said sullenly.
“Course you bloody do.” Irritated by the girl’s attitude, Gertie slumped down in a chair. “You’ve got a good job, you’ve got a bleeding warm bed and good
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