AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No need. She’ll be busy unpacking Rosie’s things, I expect. I can manage for myself.”
When he had gone, Julia threw off her pelisse and bonnet, opened her boxes and dragged out the first day gown that came to hand. Changing quickly, she ran fingers through her tousled hair and scooped it into a simple knot. Then she sat on the bare bed and looked around the room. Devoid of any personal touches, it was a sad, soulless place, and it was all hers. She had never in her life had a bedroom to herself, but she would share with Rosie and Angie no longer. That had been agreed before they left Sagborough. They would have to double up if there were visitors, but otherwise they would sleep alone. How strange that would be!
Restless, she crept out of the room again, and looked about her. The housekeeper and maids were busy now at the room furthest from the stairs, so perhaps she could creep downstairs unnoticed and have a look round while Mama and Pa were busy with the Plummers. She had reached the head of the stairs and was just about to descend when she heard a sound, muffled but unmistakable. Someone was sobbing quietly nearby.
All the doors were closed, but there was a curtain draped to one side of the staircase. Lifting it, Julia discovered herself in a strange room with big windows that curved above the stairs, the walls lined with busts on plinths and little groupings of miniatures, medals and a pair of swords. Following the curve, she came to a straight section, the walls hung with numerous paintings. And there, tucked behind a nearly naked statue of a Grecian woman, she found Rosie, hunched up on the floor in floods of tears.
“Oh, Rosie! It can’t be that bad! Whatever is the matter?”
“I had a letter… from Belinda, Jules, and oh, it made me long so for home, you cannot imagine. It is all sostrangehere and big and… andcold. There is nothing ofushere at all.”
“There will be, Rosie, dear,” Julia said, flopping to the floor beside her and wrapping her arms around her. “It will take time, but we will makethisour home, just as much as Fullers Road was. It will be different but it will still be our home because we will all be here.”
“But we will not,” Rosie wailed. “I shall be married to some lord or other, and you and Angie and Bella will marry too, and Johnny will be at Cambridge, and Will is bound to marry, too, and bring some horrid aristocratic lady into the family and everything will be different. Do you not see? Not like when Ted and Allie married, because they lived just down the road and we saw them almost every day. But suppose I marry someone from… from Cornwall, say, or Wales, then I shall be torn away from you all, and how should I bear it? I wish we could go home, Jules, truly I do. I am not sure I want to marry a lord… or anyone grand.”
“Then you shall not. You shall stay here with Mama and Pa and me, for I shan’t ever marry, you know.”
“You will, Julia. Of course you will. It is a woman’s duty to marry.”
“But first she has to find a man willing to marry her, and who would ever have me? Depend upon it, I shall be just like Aunt Madge in a few years, grumpy and bitter, trailing round with the family trying to be helpful. And my first lesson in helpfulness would have to be remembering to carry a handkerchief around with me, for yours is sodden and I have none to offer you. What a useless spinster aunt I shall be!”
Rosie smiled wanly.
~~~~~
‘To Miss Fletcher, Chadwell Park, nr Ware, Hertfordshire. My dearest friend, Is this not the most delightful surprise? It was Ricky’s idea to write to you the very day of your departure. He says that the mail coach travels much faster than any private conveyance, and so such a letter will be waiting for you the instant you walk through the door of your new home. I hope it is so, indeed, for if you are a little overwhelmed by the grandeur of Chadwell Park, which sounds by Mrs Fletcher’s account to be very grand indeed, then perhaps this will cheer you a little. And if your new house is wonderful and your mind is fully occupied with pondering its wonders, then do remember your friends back home, and send us an account of it all. Oh Rosie, I so long to hear of it from you! Is it everything you expected? Are the rooms beautiful? And tell me of the journey, too, for I have never been anywhere except to Grandpa at Newcastle now and then when he was thought to be dying, although it was all a take in and he is still with us. And now he claims to be ill again, can you believe it? But there is no other news to report. The talk is all of your departure, my dear friend, and how sad we all feel, as you may imagine. Also there is more talk of Camilla Weston, but you know all about that, and there is nothing new to say of her, so I shall not waste paper on her. Do write as soon as you have time, to describe your new home in the most minute detail. Ricky sends his best regards to you, as do I, your most affectionate friend, Belinda.’
3: Early Days
The afternoon stretched interminably. They would eat late, Julia already knew, for the servants were accustomed to a seven o’clock dinner, and Mama did not like to disrupt their usual practices on the first day.
“We shall have everything just as we like it in a day or so, I am sure,” she had said, “but just for today let them do as they usually do. We will dress at six and eat at seven.”
Pa had sighed, and sent his man Enoch to find the remains of the hampers of food that had travelled with them.
By the time the hour arrived to dress for dinner, Julia had unpacked most of her things, filled drawers and presses, and arranged her few ornamental possessions on her dressing table and mantelpiece. She chose a gown, and sat and waited for Sarah to bring hot water for washing. She waited for half an hour.
Eventually, Sarah came in at a rush. “So sorry, Miss Julia, but there’s no more hot water to be had, just enough for the mistress and Miss Rosie, and Master Will’s that upset about it. I don’t know how it is, with a great big kitchen like that and fires everywhere, yet there’s hardly enough hot water for two basins, and now we’re all behind.”
“No matter, Sarah, you go and see to Miss Rosie, and Angie and I will dress each other. Off you go.”
With a bit of a scramble, they were all down in the saloon shortly before seven. And there they waited, as seven o’clock came and went. As the clock on the mantel chimed the quarter hour with a sonorous sense of its own importance, Mama rose and rang the bell. It was a full ten minutes before the butler sidled into the room.
“Yes, madam?”
“What has happened to delay dinner, Keeble?”
“Some difficulty in the kitchen, madam. Mrs Sharwell should be ready soon.”
The men groaned, and Julia jumped to her feet impatiently. “This is ridiculous! It is bad enough to make us wait in the first place, but the kitchen has had all day to prepare.”
Mama smiled a little rigidly. “We must make allowances, dear. It is the first time they have cooked for us.”
“But they cooked every day for the Plummers,” Will said, crossly. “What is the difference? I am famished. Why can we not eat whatever is ready? They can send the rest up whenever the crisis has been dealt with.”
“I do not think—” Mama began, spots of colour appearing on her cheeks.
“I agree with Will,” Pa said. “We will eat now. Come, Lizzie.”
