When all the guests had gone and the children were in bed, Eliza was keen to tell all about what went on between the sips and the cake. They had hardly sat down to their evening meal when she said, ‘You’ll never guess who was taking tea with the mistress today, Kate? There were the usual ones, like Mrs Wickham, but there were some ladies I had never seen before and they were talking about women getting the vote. Called themselves suffragettes, or something. Seems like they were encouraging the mistress to join some sort of club. Mrs Wickham said that it was the duty of all of them to join the cause.’
Mrs B tutted but passed no comment. She didn’t usually join in with such conversations but neither did she stop Eliza from repeating what she’d heard.
‘Do you think the mistress will join?’ Kate asked.
‘How should I know?’ Eliza replied. ‘From what I can gather, though, it sounds as if she might. She’s agreed to go to some meeting.’
‘What about the master, what’s he going to say about the matter?’
‘Well he’s not here, is he? The mistress may be married to him but she’s got a will of her own, hasn’t she? And what else has she got to do? He’s gone off and left her here to take charge of the house and if she can do that she can surely make up her mind who to vote for. Good luck to her, I say!’
Kate had to agree.
‘What’s it all going to mean for the likes of you and me, then?’ Kate asked Eliza. ‘Or is it just rich ladies who are going to get the vote?’ The whole idea of women striving to be free to have the same freedom to choose as men, fascinated her.
‘Will you two just get on with eating?’ Mrs B said. ‘We’ve a deal to do before bedtime. Whatever happens with the Votes for Women you can be sure there’ll still be washing-up to do. Talking of washing, you better make sure everything’s in order with the clean laundry. I’ll be the only one here with you two off home for Mothering Sunday.’
* * *
It was with much excitement and a light heart that Kate returned to Micklewell for Mothering Sunday, at primrose time. Her first trip home since taking up her job at Woodland House. A whole weekend, such joy! The pony and trap she had taken from Hatch station dropped her at the top of Green Lane. The edges of the lane unfolded before her like a welcome carpet. The stream ambled along with her and she thought of her old school friend, Elsie. They were now both in service and hadn’t seen one another for some time. Elsie had not moved so far away, to Hambleton, a bigger village with shops, and many more big houses to soak up the services of girls such as them. They had promised to write to each other but so far they hadn’t.
Kate listened to the prattling of the brook and was reminded of their prattling as children. Her and Dot and Elsie and Mary White with their skirts rolled up and tucked into their knickers as they paddled in the water searching for crayfish. ‘Tom Chuggs’ they called them, she couldn’t remember why, it had always been that way.
Passing Wellhouse Farm, she looked to see if the Soldier on the Wall was still there. He was! Still standing to attention in his black bearskin, larger than life! She wondered how many yearsthe paint would last. If she could come back twenty years from now, would his white stripes on his trousers and his bandoleer still shine out in the dark on a moonlit night?
She made her way down the village street towards number two, Mead Cottages. The narrow alleyway between number one and the outhouses was the same. As she passed by Mrs Geary’s window she could hear the lively chatter of her and her sisters inside. No doubt the kettle would be on and the biscuit tin rattling in tune to their gossiping chorus. Mrs Geary was a dear but if you wanted anything kept quiet, you didn’t tell her a word.
She clicked open the low gate that separated the Geary’s house from theirs and before she could lay her hand on the latch, the door was flung wide and Dot threw her arms around her sister.
‘Kate, Kate, oh Kate! I’m so happy to see you. We have chicks, six of them and I found an injured baby rabbit. Pa says I can keep it so long as he doesn’t have to feed it and that I mustn’t weep over the dead ones he brings home, ’cos he’s not going to stop shooting them, we need the meat. But I don’t mind eating them still, just not this little one. Do come and look,’ she cried grabbing Kate’s hand and pulling her in the direction of a small, wooden hutch against the shed wall.
‘Let your sister get in the door before you start on at her,’ her father called from inside the kitchen. His large form followed his voice and filled the doorway. His sleeves were rolled up revealing his muscled arms and broad hands in which he held a bread knife.
‘Kate, what a breath of fresh air you are. You look well,’ he said. ‘You’re just in time for some bread and cheese. Your mother’s upstairs changing the sheets for you. She’s been working herself to the bone knowing you were staying the night.’
Just as she was about to pick up her bag and follow him inside, two small hands grabbed the side of her father’s trousersand a face full of curiosity peeked around to observe her from a safe distance.
‘Why, our little Henry, how you’ve grown,’ she said to her youngest brother. ‘You do remember me, don’t you? It’s your sister, Kate.’
The bedroom window opened and Kate’s mother looked out.
‘Kate, our very own Kate! I thought I heard voices. I’m coming right down,’ she called. ‘Get her inside and pour her a cup of tea, Jim. She must be gasping.’
Dot followed Kate inside, carrying her bag and keeping her excitement in check. Henry ran to his mother as soon as she appeared and she picked him up, carrying him to Kate and holding them both in her arms at once.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ her mother said. ‘Are they treating you well?’
‘Look at her, Ada, does she look like they’re starving her and flogging her to death?’ Jim joked.
‘Now, I’ve something for you, Henry.’ Kate smiled. She went to her bag and bent to retrieve the small gift. Noticing Dot’s expectant gaze, she added, ‘And you too, Dot. It’s only something small but I hope you’ll like it.’
Kate held out a colourful ball to Henry and gave her sister an embroidered handkerchief with a D on it. Henry immediately started rolling the ball and Dot pressed the handkerchief to her cheek.
‘It smells of you, Kate,’ she said.
‘Just make sure you don’t lose it or use it to wipe your shoes, like all the others,’ Ada chided.
‘I’ll keep it for best,’ Dot replied giving her mother a look that said ‘so there!’.
