Lucy tidied her light-brown hair. Regardless of her mother’s putdowns, Lucy knew she was the prettiest girl in town. Her life had changed when she became a woman. When she walked down the street, she knew the men watched her, called out after her. They clamoured after her at the dances. It made her feel special.
It was these assets she needed to turn to her advantage, coerce men to do her bidding. Now that she was working in the palace, she’d be able to mingle with proper gentlemen, people who could help her get to the top of her profession.
Wouldn’t she?
Doubt crept into her. Ever since she’d found herself lost in the crowds at Paddington Station, she realized the city was busier, more sophisticated than she’d imagined. The dress style was chic, the womenelegant and poised, making her homemade cotton frock look frumpy and cheap. Without the sharp makeup the London women wore, she felt childish, invisible.
Invisible. The word repeated itself in her mind, the mantra of her childhood. After her dad left them when she was a baby, her mum had married Stan. Lucy had been sidelined, her mother obsessed with keeping Stan happy. Then her younger brothers were born – her mother and Stan’s ‘proper’ family – and Lucy was kicked around like a dog that no one wanted. But in the last couple of years, Stan had begun to soften towards her. He’d started giving her spare coins, putting an arm around her. He’d seek her out in her bedroom and make her laugh with his jokes.
Only then her mum had found out, and she’d hit the roof, telling her to get out.
And now this one job was Lucy’s chance to change everything. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going back until she was a star.
One of the maids pushed a panel in the wall, and off they vanished into a secret passage.
‘Where are they going?’
Caroline led the way over. ‘It’s a staff door. The palace is filled with corridors running between the walls. The servants use them to stay behind the scenes. You’ll be expected to memorize the map.’
Lucy followed Caroline through the hidden doorway.
The narrow, well-lit passage quickly joined others into a wider, larger corridor. On either side, doors were labelled ‘Blue Drawing Room’ and ‘Bow Room’, and there were signposts for ‘back stairs’ and ‘Offices’.
‘Get to know your way around.’ Caroline pulled her to one side to let a butler and three footmen pass, each wearing black tailcoats, silver salvers held aloft. ‘And remember to follow the protocol on rank.’
Behind the footmen were two men in dark suits, the handsome one rakish with his brown hair tousled, as if he’d just woken up. Alongside him was a younger man with sandy hair and a waistcoat taking notes as he kept pace.
Caroline whispered to her, ‘They’re from the higher offices. Under no circumstances are we to speak to them.’
‘What, never?’ If Lucy were to get on with her singing career, she’d need to catch a man with distinction – a man with friends in high places.
Lucy watched as the two men passed them – could one of them be her future husband?
To her glee, both of them turned to look at her. The younger sandy-haired one was exasperated about something, following the gaze of the other man, which lingered on Lucy appreciatively. He gave her a smile, rolling his eyes to indicate that the younger man was pestering him, a small, shared joke that made her let out a small laugh.
‘Come on,’ Caroline said, hurrying her along.
As Lucy trotted behind, away from the handsome man, she peeked over her shoulder, and he glanced back, too, their eyes connecting before he turned into another passage.
This was how she would make it work, Lucy thought, wondering how closely she would be monitored.
Caroline went on, ‘Your chief job is to collect and manage the laundry – not only the queen’s, but that of the royal family and guests. That means checking the guest rooms regularly. They’re used by royal visitors and their entourages, and sometimes by senior staff, too. The palace laundry is in the basement, but gowns and uniforms are sent out to specialists. There’s ironing and mending, too...’
As she went on, Lucy’s mind drifted to the man she’d seen in the corridor. He looked like a proper gentleman and was clearly in charge of the assistant beside him.
‘Hmm,’ she mused. Perhaps she’d bump into him again.
AT THE END OFthe tour, Caroline showed her to the vast staff dining hall for the morning break. The place was loud with chatter, long rows of tables filled with people, cups clattering onto saucers and teaspoons stirring in sugar. One table was filled with guardsmen in their gold-brocaded red uniforms, as if trapped there from a different era. Another table housed an assortment of chefs and kitchen staff in white. She wondered whether she’d see the man from the corridor, but as she looked around, there didn’t seem to be many men in suits.
At the far end of the long room, Lucy spotted Shirley, her ebullient dark curls bobbing as she talked to a group of women.
Caroline wove through the tables. ‘Let me introduce you to your landlady, Betty.’ She stopped at the far end of Shirley’s table, where a cheery, plump woman stood up to greet her, pumping her hand heartily.
‘You must be my new lodger! You’re very welcome at my place. You’ll always find a cup of tea and piece of cake.’ She grinned as she looked Lucy up and down. ‘And you look as if you could do with a little extra feeding.’ Sensing Lucy’s unease, she added, ‘And we’re very friendly, too.’
‘If not always tidy.’ A tall, middle-aged woman beside her laughed.
‘You’re right there, Hilda.’ Betty chuckled.
