Chapter Six
March 1913
Kate was passing the master’s study one morning after breakfast, when she heard him raise his voice and say, ‘I’ve told you before, Dorothea, that you are to consult me before making any new purchases. How do you explain this bill from Wilkinson’s drapers? I don’t recall authorizing such an extortionate amount.’
Mrs Winton’s reply was not clear but Kate caught the words: ‘chaise longue’ and ‘threadbare’.
‘If I wanted the chaise longue recovered, I would have told you to see that it was done,’ he replied getting angrier.
‘Did you not notice that it had been recovered when you sat on it?’ Mrs Winton asked. ‘It needed doing badly, James.’
‘I’m a busy man. I cannot be expected to notice such things,’ Mr Winton replied.
‘Precisely, James. Which is why I didn’t see fit to bother you,’ Mrs Winton said with more strength and clarity in her voice.
Kate had never witnessed an exchange of this kind between her employers before and felt conscious of the fact that she wasn’t meant to either. She watched the slightly open door, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot but was intrigued to hear Mrs Winton standing up for herself. When she heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, she decided it was time to move. She didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.
Later that day, Clara asked Kate to take a turn around the park with her. The walks that the two young women had taken together earlier in the year were brisk and brief due to the cold weather, but now the daffodils were peeping through and the air was milder, Clara’s pace was more leisurely and she engaged Kate more in conversation. Her initial coldness was beginningto melt. She was kinder to Kate and Kate was beginning to relax and be easier in her company.
‘Do you ever wonder, Kate, what life might be like if we could do as we pleased, more like men?’ Clara asked. ‘I sometimes feel like a caged bird. At least since you arrived, I have had a little more freedom.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, Miss Clara, I think young ladies of your station feel it more than us country girls. I was able to work amongst the men in the fields along with the women. We don’t lead such a divided life in the countryside as you do here in the town.’
‘Do you still think of yourself as a country girl, Kate? Do you miss the country?’
‘I miss some things about it, my family of course and the bubbling of the stream through our village. At this time of year, the blackthorn will be out. A splash of white that looks like the snows have returned,’ Kate replied. ‘And I miss the soft green grass to walk on, these pavements are so hard on the feet. But I don’t miss the mud in winter. If you don’t mind me saying, those shoes of yours would be soon ruined on the rough lanes of Micklewell.’
‘But I could wear boots, could I not?’ Clara said.
‘Pardon me for saying, miss, but boots would look very strange with your fine clothes,’ Kate said.
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Clara smiled. ‘Imagine what Mother’s society friends would think of that!’
They both laughed at the thought.
It wasn’t long after Kate’s observance of the disagreement between the Wintons and the walk with Clara, that they were all told the news that Mr Winton would be away for prolonged periods of time for business reasons.
‘So, he’s setting up a new bank, in the city and leaving the mistress to manage here on her own!’ Eliza said.
‘She’s not on her own, is she?’ Mrs B said. ‘She’s got us and she’s always managed perfectly well when he’s been away before. She’s used to his comings and goings by now. I dare say there’ll be a few changes coming, you wait and see.’
‘A blessing for all of us, I say,’ Eliza whispered and then asked Mrs B, ‘How long will he be away?’
‘How should I know?’ Mrs B replied. ‘But be prepared. I expect we’ll be packing this house up and moving to London with him before too long.’
As it turned out, Mrs Winton said that they would not be moving immediately on account of Master Philip’s studies . He had one more term with his tutor before he could take the entrance exam for university. That would be the right time to move, she said, not before.
Late one afternoon, Eliza and Kate were folding the linen, when the jangling of the sitting-room bell sent Eliza scuttling upstairs. The mistress wanted an afternoon tea to be prepared for that Friday when she would be receiving a particularly important group of friends.
‘She says she knows she can rely upon you to prepare something special,’ Eliza told Mrs B on her return.
‘Oh, she does, does she?’ Mrs B replied. ‘Well it’s a good job I’ve got plenty of flour and eggs in then, isn’t it?’
On the appointed day, Mrs B prepared an exceptionally good spread, as expected. Eliza, wearing a clean white apron, picked up the tray of scones and jam and the Victoria sponge cake and asked if there would be any left over for them.
‘Just you get on with the job, young lady, and stop your cheek,’ Mrs B said. ‘And make sure you get straight back here for the tea tray. You know how the mistress insists on the tea being hot.’ She turned to Kate. ‘And you get upstairs and keep those children quiet. Here, take them these biscuits in case you need to use some bribery.’
Eliza winked at Kate and whispered, ‘I saw her put three scones away in the pantry. I’ll give you the report on the gossip, later.’ Eliza was alert to all the topics of conversation on these occasions. She was adept at listening to all the chatter whilst serving the ladies their tea. She always had something to tell Kate about what Mrs Winton and her friends discussed during their afternoon visits and today was no exception.
