have to agree to it, you realise that.’ And if she wants her family feeding it won’t be a problem, Dora thought, deciding to give the girl a go. ‘So, when could you start?’
‘I’ll give in my notice tonight and come back here first thing tomorrow morning. Mr Treweeks won’t be pleased though.’ Daisy shrugged her shoulders.
‘I’m sure if you explain my predicament he’ll understand.’ Dora beamed. Everything was going to turn out all right after all. She pushed back a wisp of hair, and flour smudged her forehead. ‘I’m sure you don’t mind my asking, but who told you the position was available.’
‘Jim Farrell. We’re old friends and I know his sister, Amy. Mrs Farrell has gone to help her sister-in-law who I believe is dying of the tuberculosis,’ Daisy lied. This last sentence was said in an exaggerated whisper, accompanied by much nodding of Daisy’s head.
‘Oh dear, I didn’t realise it was as bad as that. Poor Ellen, she must be worried sick.’ Dora stood quiet for a moment. She hadn’t been very sympathetic when John had told her the news. Dora decided to give John some bread rolls to make up for it and was consoled by her intended charity. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, as early as possible please,’ she told Daisy, and then carried on with her baking.
‘There is just one other thing,’ Daisy said awkwardly and Dora’s heart sank. ‘I have a room at the pub, my own room, which I’ll lose when I give the job up. Is there any chance of a room here at Tapscott?’
Dora considered for a moment. Three rooms were allocated to the servants, all situated on the second floor. Tom Pritchard the butler had one and Dora another. That only left Molly’s room. ‘If Molly is agreeable, would you consider sharing a room with her?’ Dora offered. ‘It’s a good-sized room and would take another bed.’
‘Oh yes, I don’t mind, and I’m sure Molly and I will get along well.’ Daisy would have agreed to anything, even bunking in with Pritchard, if it meant getting a room under this roof.
‘I’m sure Molly won’t mind. Come back tomorrow morning and we’ll have it all sorted by then.’
Daisy was so thrilled she gave Dora a hug. ‘See you tomorrow then, Mrs Stoakley,’ she called, walking out of the kitchen into the now empty yard. Daisy hurried back to the pub heedless of the painful blisters caused by her new boots, imagining the secret romantic meetings and the sexual encounters she’d soon enjoy.
Chapter 13
The Nags Head pub advertised special offer meals on a blackboard propped up outside the pub. Two for one Sunday roasts was their speciality, but for the last few days Amelia had noticed it said BBQ in large letters in red chalk. The theme for the barbeque was country and western and was to be held early evening the coming Saturday. Amelia mentioned it to Grace and they agreed that they deserved a night out. The pub was within walking distance of Primrose Cottage, and Amelia in particular was looking forward to a few vodka and tonics.
On Friday morning, the day before the barbeque Amelia decided to sort through the laundry. It was a never-ending task, with Grace making more washing than was necessary, in Amelia’s opinion. Amelia tipped everything out of the linen basket onto a bedside rug and separated the items more urgently in need of a wash, then stuffed the rest back in to the basket. Before dumping it all into the washing machine, out of habit Amelia checked the pockets in Grace’s chinos and found a bus ticket and a packet of polo mints, which she put to one side on the kitchen worktop. Wedged deep under the mints Amelia found a small scrap of crumpled paper and, curious, she opened it out. Drawn onto the paper were four oblong shapes. One had the pencilled initials JF written in it. Amelia frowned, wondering what they meant. She slipped the paper underneath the polo mints and decided to ask Grace about it later.
In passing, in one of their recent
‘I’ll give in my notice tonight and come back here first thing tomorrow morning. Mr Treweeks won’t be pleased though.’ Daisy shrugged her shoulders.
‘I’m sure if you explain my predicament he’ll understand.’ Dora beamed. Everything was going to turn out all right after all. She pushed back a wisp of hair, and flour smudged her forehead. ‘I’m sure you don’t mind my asking, but who told you the position was available.’
‘Jim Farrell. We’re old friends and I know his sister, Amy. Mrs Farrell has gone to help her sister-in-law who I believe is dying of the tuberculosis,’ Daisy lied. This last sentence was said in an exaggerated whisper, accompanied by much nodding of Daisy’s head.
‘Oh dear, I didn’t realise it was as bad as that. Poor Ellen, she must be worried sick.’ Dora stood quiet for a moment. She hadn’t been very sympathetic when John had told her the news. Dora decided to give John some bread rolls to make up for it and was consoled by her intended charity. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, as early as possible please,’ she told Daisy, and then carried on with her baking.
‘There is just one other thing,’ Daisy said awkwardly and Dora’s heart sank. ‘I have a room at the pub, my own room, which I’ll lose when I give the job up. Is there any chance of a room here at Tapscott?’
Dora considered for a moment. Three rooms were allocated to the servants, all situated on the second floor. Tom Pritchard the butler had one and Dora another. That only left Molly’s room. ‘If Molly is agreeable, would you consider sharing a room with her?’ Dora offered. ‘It’s a good-sized room and would take another bed.’
‘Oh yes, I don’t mind, and I’m sure Molly and I will get along well.’ Daisy would have agreed to anything, even bunking in with Pritchard, if it meant getting a room under this roof.
‘I’m sure Molly won’t mind. Come back tomorrow morning and we’ll have it all sorted by then.’
Daisy was so thrilled she gave Dora a hug. ‘See you tomorrow then, Mrs Stoakley,’ she called, walking out of the kitchen into the now empty yard. Daisy hurried back to the pub heedless of the painful blisters caused by her new boots, imagining the secret romantic meetings and the sexual encounters she’d soon enjoy.
Chapter 13
The Nags Head pub advertised special offer meals on a blackboard propped up outside the pub. Two for one Sunday roasts was their speciality, but for the last few days Amelia had noticed it said BBQ in large letters in red chalk. The theme for the barbeque was country and western and was to be held early evening the coming Saturday. Amelia mentioned it to Grace and they agreed that they deserved a night out. The pub was within walking distance of Primrose Cottage, and Amelia in particular was looking forward to a few vodka and tonics.
On Friday morning, the day before the barbeque Amelia decided to sort through the laundry. It was a never-ending task, with Grace making more washing than was necessary, in Amelia’s opinion. Amelia tipped everything out of the linen basket onto a bedside rug and separated the items more urgently in need of a wash, then stuffed the rest back in to the basket. Before dumping it all into the washing machine, out of habit Amelia checked the pockets in Grace’s chinos and found a bus ticket and a packet of polo mints, which she put to one side on the kitchen worktop. Wedged deep under the mints Amelia found a small scrap of crumpled paper and, curious, she opened it out. Drawn onto the paper were four oblong shapes. One had the pencilled initials JF written in it. Amelia frowned, wondering what they meant. She slipped the paper underneath the polo mints and decided to ask Grace about it later.
In passing, in one of their recent
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