Hope. Part 4

Hope wondered why people kept saying that to Nell. Did it mean some husbands were bad to their wives?

The whole thing about getting married was a bit mysterious to Hope. She had asked her mother and she said it was because women wanted babies and they needed a man to give them one. But Hope knew babies grew in women's bellies, so that didn't quite make sense.

The clanging of the church bell became louder and louder as they walked down the hill into the village. Nell was holding her father's arm; Hope and her mother were behind them. There was no one else to wave to the little party because almost everyone in the village would already be at the church.

'Stop dawdling, Hope,' Meg called out, 'you'll make us late!'

Hope ran to her mother and took her hand. 'How long will it be before Nell has a baby?' she asked.

'That's for the Lord to decide,' Meg replied, but she looked down at Hope and smiled. 'Don't ask any more questions like that today either.'

Hope peeped through her fingers while she was supposed to be praying. The church looked very pretty as that morning some of the women in the village had fixed garlands of flowers around the pulpit and on the end of each pew. But it was strange to see all the neighbours and friends from the village sitting in the front pews where the gentry usually sat. Mr and Mrs Calway were there, and the whole of the Nichols family, the Carpenters from Nutgrove Farm, Mr Humphreys, the Pearces, Boxes, Webbs, Wilkinses, even Maria Jeffries, the barmy old lady who walked her goat on a lead around the village. Hope had asked her mother where Sir William and Lady Harvey and Rufus were going to sit when they came, but all she said was that they didn't go to servants' weddings. Hope didn't understand that. Nell looked after Lady Harvey, and Albert made the garden nice for her. So surely they should come here today to make things nice for Nell and Albert?

'I'll be nasty to Rufus next time I go to Briargate,' she promised herself.

She still went to play with him on Monday afternoons, unless the weather was bad. Sometimes she got fed up with him because although he was five now, he was still such a baby. She understood that was because he hadn't got brothers and sisters like her, and he'd never done anything or gone anywhere on his own the way she had when she was five, but it was still annoying. Yet she liked looking at all his books, and took pleasure in being able to read them to him. She also liked drawing and painting with him and playing hide-and-seek in the garden.

But above all she loved going to Briargate. Just walking up the big staircase to the nursery made her feel she was a special guest. It was so good to see all those beautiful pictures, to touch polished wood and velvet curtains and enter into a world that was so different to the one she came from.

She didn't think Nell, James and Ruth felt that way, but perhaps that was because they were servants. They were always quick to take her into the kitchen, as though they were reminding her that was where she belonged. But then she liked the kitchen just as much as the rest of the house. It was good to see food they never had at home, to observe the care Cook took in preparing meals, and she rarely came out of there without something to take home a pie, a cake or a jar of preserves.

Then there was Lady Harvey. Hope thought she had to be the loveliest lady in the land. Her golden hair, blue eyes, soft voice and wonderful gowns were enough on their own, but she was so nice too, and always made a fuss of her.

Nell and Albert were kneeling in front of the altar now. Nell looked so different with her hair down; Mother had washed it for her last night, and twisted it all up in rags to make it curl. Hope had never seen it look so shiny and bouncy, and the little crown of flowers was very pretty. She decided that when she was grown up she'd have her hair like that every day.

She turned her head slightly to look at Alice and Toby in the pew behind her and grinned at them. She was thrilled they'd managed to come as they didn't get home very often because it was so far from Bath. Alice had whispered at the church door that they'd walked all the way, and would have to walk back tomorrow, but it was worth it. She also added that she had something for Hope.

She hoped it might be a paintbox like the one Rufus had.

'Why are you crying, Mother?' Hope whispered later. She was getting bored now because the Reverend Gosling kept asking Albert and then Nell the same things, and it seemed to be taking for ever.

'Shhh,' Meg hissed, putting one finger to her lips.

'I p.r.o.nounce you man and wife.'

At the Reverend Gosling's words, said in a loud and important voice, Hope got interested again. She hoped that was the end of it now and they could go home for the party.

Everyone had been very worried that it would rain today, because the cottage wasn't big enough for everyone to get inside. But it had been warm and sunny for three days now, and last night Silas and Matt had fixed up a long table made of old doors in the field next to the vegetable patch, and there were planks resting on logs for seats. Nell had borrowed some sheets from Briargate as tablecloths, and there was a whole barrel of ale, enough pies, buns and other food for the scores of people, and Gareth Peregrine was going to play his fiddle so everyone could dance.

'You may kiss the bride.'

Hope put her hands over her eyes at the Reverend Gosling's order to Albert; she couldn't bear seeing men kissing women. Matt was always kissing Amy, especially when he thought no one was watching, and she didn't think she could bear it if Nell and Albert kept doing it all the time too.

But she had to peep through her fingers just to check Albert did it, because she'd never seen him kiss Nell before. She was relieved it was just a peck. Matt and Amy did big sucking ones.

Mabel Scragg, who owned the bakery next door to the Rentons, came waddling up to them as soon as they'd got out of the church. Hope didn't like her, she always called her 'a little madam', and once she'd boxed her ears for calling her Scraggy. 'The first one married off then,' she said to Meg, her fat chins wobbling. 'I reckon it will be your Matt next.'

'Aye.' Meg smiled towards her oldest son who as always was standing so close to Amy they could be stuck with glue. 'But it'll be her folk paying for it, thank heavens.'

'Your Nell's done well for herself with Albert and no mistake,' Mabel went on. 'Fancy them getting the gatehouse and Lady Harvey's keeping Nell on too! Mind you, that won't be for long, not if she takes after you!'

Hope frowned at Mabel's last remark. She wasn't the first to make it. Almost everyone had. She wanted to know what they meant.

By the time it grew dark, Hope had her answer. All the grown-ups still at the party were tipsy, including her mother and father. The food was all gone, they had to tip the barrel up now to get the last dregs, and Gareth Peregrine had stopped playing his fiddle and was sleeping off the drink down by the chicken coop. Even Joe and Henry had helped themselves to some ale. Hope had tried it too, but she didn't like it.

She had noticed that ale made people say things they wouldn't normally say. Matt had said he loved Amy in front of everyone, and she'd giggled as if she thought he was wonderful.

There had been a great many gardening jokes all evening about beds, planting and seeds as they were leaving, none of which Hope understood. But as the couple went off over the common hand in hand, someone said they wondered if they'd be wetting a baby's head next June.

'Silas only had to sneeze and I was in the family way,' Meg said, laughing her head off. 'I just hope Nell doesn't take after me, or she ties a knot in Albert's John Thomas.'

There was more talk along these lines later among the women, and Hope listened to it all carefully. One said she thought Albert was a cold fish, and there were several voices raised in agreement, including her mother's. Even Ruth said she'd seen more pa.s.sion in a rice pudding than in him, and she pointed out Matt who was dreamily dancing cheek to cheek with Amy and said that was more normal.

So putting it all together with bits Hope had learned about breeding from farm animals, she realized that this was what humans got married for, and the result was babies.

Later, when she danced with her father, who was already staggering with drink, he'd said he hoped he wouldn't be too old to dance at her wedding.

'I won't get married,' she said firmly. 'No one is going to do that to me.'

Three months after Nell's wedding, Matt married Amy. It was the week before Christmas, in the church at Publow, the next village. Fred Merchant, Amy's father, had welcomed Matt into his family with open arms for he'd always wanted a son to pa.s.s the farm on to. Everyone in the village believed Matt was made for life.

Once again Hope saw her mother cry at the service and her parents get tipsy, but she had the feeling that they were far happier about Matt marrying Amy than they had been about Nell and Albert. She had never once heard her father ask Matt if he was sure about it, the way he had with Nell. And she'd seen her mother embrace Amy dozens of times, exactly the way she did all her own children.

Hope didn't like Albert. He had a way of looking at people as if they had a bad smell about them, and he hardly ever spoke. Nell had said in his defence that he was just shy and he was talkative to her. That might be so, but Hope couldn't understand why that would make Nell change. She never came home on her afternoon off now; the family only ever saw her at church on Sundays with Albert. Every time Hope came back from Briargate after playing with Rufus, her mother always questioned her about Nell.

'Is she looking well? Did she say anything about Albert? When is she coming home next?'

Hope could only ever tell the truth, that her sister looked just the same as she'd always done; that no, she didn't say anything about Albert, and that Nell said she couldn't come on her afternoons off now she had a home of her own to take care of.

Ruth and James always came home when they had the afternoon off. They said they thought Nell should have more time now she was married because Lady Harvey let her go earlier in the day, and when she went out without Nell, she sent her home.

Hope once heard Ruth say Albert was a tyrant, but her mother had put a warning finger to her lips to stop her from saying any more.

Hope had asked the Reverend Gosling what a tyrant was, and he said it was a man who forced his will on to others.

In the spring of '41, Hope was up in the day nursery at Briargate playing chequers in front of the fire with Rufus when Lady Harvey came in with another lady.

Rufus was good at chequers, so Hope didn't have to let him win sometimes to appease him. He'd won the last two games and at the point when Lady Harvey came in, Hope was concentrating hard on the new game so she could beat him.

Ruth leapt to her feet as she always did when anyone came into the nursery and began tidying away a puzzle they'd been doing earlier. 'Rufus!' Lady Harvey said. 'I want you to meet Miss Bird, she's going to be your governess and teach you to read and write.'

Rufus remained kneeling on the hearthrug and looked up at the tall, stern-faced lady in a grey dress and bonnet. 'Hope is teaching me to read and write,' he said dismissively.

Hope's favourite game was 'school' and she had already managed to teach Rufus all the letters of the alphabet, and to read some simple three-letter words.

'Don't be so rude, Rufus, and how many times have I told you a gentleman always stands up when a lady enters the room?'

'I'm sorry, Mama,' he said, and reluctantly got up.

Hope thought she'd better get up too, and she followed Ruth's example by helping to pick up the puzzle pieces.

Lady Harvey explained to the visitor that Hope was her maid's younger sister, and she came to play with her son once a week. She then went on to tell Rufus that Miss Bird would be giving him lessons in the schoolroom every day.

'I'd rather go to Reverend Gosling like Hope does,' Rufus replied.

'Reverend Gosling only teaches the village children,' Lady Harvey said sharply, looking cross that her son was being so uncooperative. 'And Miss Bird will be teaching you some history, geography and music too. She plays the piano.'

Hope wanted to laugh at Rufus because he looked funny with his lower lip stuck out petulantly. She thought he was a bit of a sissy mostly, though that was partly because he was always dressed in a sailor suit and his white stockings never had a speck of dirt on them. She could see why he didn't like the look of his new teacher. She looked mean with her straight back and her thin, unsmiling lips. She had no chin either; the bottom of her face disappeared into her neck.

'Will she teach Hope too?' Rufus asked.

'No, she won't,' Lady Harvey said, and moved closer to him to ruffle his blond curls. 'Your father thinks it's time you mixed with some boys, so two afternoons a week Benjamin and Michael Chapel will be coming over here.'

Hope knew from Nell that the Chapels lived in a big house at Chelwood because they came to dine here sometimes. She'd never seen the boys herself but Nell had described them as little prigs.

'I think you'd better run along home now, Hope,' Lady Harvey said. 'I'd like Miss Bird to talk to Rufus alone.'

While Rufus began to complain that they were in the middle of a game, Ruth fetched Hope's shawl and bonnet and nudged her towards the door. It was quite clear to Hope that she was supposed to disappear permanently without a word, but that seemed unfair to her.

'Won't I be able to come to see Rufus any more?' she asked at the door.

Lady Harvey frowned. 'You'll still see him at church,' she said.

As Rufus let out a wail of protest, Hope slipped out of the room because she was afraid she might cry too. While it was true she was often bored with Rufus, she was fond of him and they'd been playing together for a long time. Yet what hurt most was that James had warned her just a couple of weeks ago that she would be dropped like a hot brick when Sir William decided it was no longer seemly for his son to be playing with a village child.

Hope hadn't believed James; in fact she'd kicked him for being so nasty. But he was right after all.

She ran straight down to the kitchen. Cook looked up from rolling out some pastry. She was an odd-looking woman with crossed eyes and a small hump on her back, but Hope liked her. 'h.e.l.lo, my little dumpling,' Cook said in her usual affectionate manner. 'You're early today. Or have you been sent down with a message for me?'

Hope blurted out the gist of what had happened. 'So I'm to go,' she finished up. 'I'm not wanted any more.'

Saying it outright like that made her cry and Cook drew her to her bosom for a cuddle. 'There, there,' she said comfortingly. 'They've got to make Master Rufus into a little man for when he goes away to school. But don't take on, he's going to miss you, and I don't doubt he'll play this new governess up because of it. Maybe Lady Harvey will call you back again then.'

'I shan't come back even if she does,' Hope said proudly, sniffing back her tears. 'Where's Nell?'

'Off home,' Cook said, taking a newly baked biscuit off the cooling tray and handing it to Hope. 'She's had her afternoon off changed to Mondays now.'

Hope wanted to cry again at that news, but she bit back her tears, said goodbye to Cook and left.

The way home was over the stile behind the stables and across the paddock to the woods, but she changed her mind as she reached the stile and turned back to march round the side of the house and down the drive. Part of it was because she wanted to see Nell and her cottage was down that way, but the major part was an act of defiance as she knew she could be seen clearly from the house. She wasn't going to skulk off through the woods. If she never set foot in Briargate again, at least the last time she left would be through the main entrance.

The drive was much longer than she'd expected, for she'd never walked down it before. Only a couple of weeks ago she'd overheard her parents talking when she was in bed up in the loft. Father had remarked that it was high time Nell and Albert invited them to their home. He said he understood they wanted to get it all straight before asking anyone there, but he thought six months was quite long enough for that.

The gatehouse, a rather severe-looking stone cottage with leaded window panes and a neat white picket fence around it, had been built long before Briargate. In Sir Roland Harvey's time there had been someone there all day to open and shut gates when visitors came and went, but this had been abandoned some twenty years ago and the gates removed. Until Nell and Albert moved in, it had lain empty for many years.

Nell opened the door only a second after Hope knocked and looked stunned to see her sister standing there. 'Why, Hope,' she gasped, 'whatever brings you here?'

'M'lady doesn't want me at Briargate any more,' Hope blurted out and promptly burst into tears.

'There now,' Nell said, putting her arms around her and drawing her into the cottage. 'Come and tell me all about it.'

Between hiccuping sobs Hope explained. 'Now I'm pushed out, like I was a bit of rubbish,' she finished up.

She was surprised to see Nell had tears in her eyes, and it helped to know her sister felt the injustice too.

'I was afraid this might happen,' Nell admitted. She went on to say that she and their parents had never been sure it was a good idea from the very start, then added that now Hope was nine she was too big to play with Rufus anyway.

She made a cup of tea, and it was only then that Hope began to look around.

It was the cleanest, tidiest cottage she had ever been in. The table was scrubbed almost white; the flagstone floor the same. The stove was like new, as though Nell had only just blackleaded it. Nothing was out of place or askew. The two chairs by the stove had cushions carefully placed; the rag rug in front of it hadn't even been stepped on. The shelves that held dishes, pots and pans had a scalloped tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of blue and white paper. Even the dishrag was folded neatly. There was a smell of something cooking in the oven, but no sign of any preparation. Even the tin knives, forks and spoons were laid out like a row of soldiers in a box. Every one of them gleaming.

'You've got it looking very nice,' Hope said, but in fact she found such neatness a bit chilling. 'We thought you might still be in a muddle as you hadn't invited us round.'

'I don't get any time,' Nell replied, a little too quickly. 'Besides, it's too small for everyone to come.'

As far as Hope could see it was bigger than home, and Nell had a proper stove and a real sink. But she was eager to see the rest of the cottage and rushed off up the narrow stairs in the corner.

The upstairs wasn't just a loft like at home; Nell's room was a proper one with a door and windows. An iron bed, a washstand with a basin and ewer, and a wooden chest were the only furniture, and the walls were whitewashed the same as downstairs. But again, everything was so neat. The quilt on the bed didn't have one pucker in it. The curtains hung in precise folds. The bare wooden floorboards had a faint sheen on them as if they had been polished. The second room upstairs had nothing at all in it, just curtains at the window.

'Is that for your baby?' Hope asked. 'When you get one?'

'If I get one,' Nell said. 'So what do you think of my new home?'

'It's very tidy,' Hope replied for want of a real compliment.

'Albert likes things just so,' Nell replied, smoothing the already smooth quilt as if she was nervous. 'But you must go home, Hope. It's a long walk from here and Mother will get worried if you're late.'

A few minutes later Hope was making her way home, cutting through the grounds of Hunstrete House rather than walking right up to Briargate again. Young as she was, she knew Nell wasn't concerned about her being back late. She just didn't want her there when Albert got home.

A few months after Hope's last day at Briargate, she found herself counting that day as the one when everything changed for her. It wasn't just that she couldn't play with Rufus any more, or that she didn't see Nell, Ruth and James so often, but because she had to work.

She had of course always had to pitch in and help her father on the farm when there were crops to be picked, seeds to be sown, or at haymaking time. Her older brothers and sisters had done it too; that was the way for the families of farm workers. But in the past Hope's help had only been needed for the lightest of tasks; she went to lessons every day with the Reverend Gosling, and the rest of the time was her own.

But her lessons had ended suddenly, with no explanation as to why. Now she was expected to work as hard as Joe and Henry did, going off with them in the morning even when it was wet and cold. Then on days she was kept at home she had to do washing, clean the cottage and help with the cooking.

'If you don't work, you can't eat,' her mother said sharply when she complained. 'That's just the way it is, Hope, and the sooner you understand that, the happier you'll be.'

Hope was well aware that money was tighter since Nell and Matt had got married and they didn't tip up their wages any more. James and Ruth still gave Mother theirs, and Alice and Toby contributed what they could. But none of them earned very much, and Alice and Toby came home so infrequently that Meg had to wait weeks just for a couple of shillings.

Hope could also see for herself that her parents were getting old and tired. Neither of them had the strength they'd once had. The Reverend Gosling had pointed out to her that her mother was forty-five now, her father a couple of years older, and a lifetime of heavy work and hardship had taken its toll. He said rather sternly that many girls of nine and even far younger had to work as hard as adults, and she should thank G.o.d that she had been allowed a real childhood and been able to attend his little school for four years.

So she had to bear it without complaint, even when her back felt as though it was breaking from being bent over all day picking strawberries, or her arms felt as if they were being torn from the sockets as she hauled full sacks of potatoes the length of a field, just muttering a few oaths under her breath. Yet it wasn't just the new hard labour that bothered her. It was her loss of position that really hurt.

'Our baby' was an expression she'd heard to describe her for as long as she could remember. Everyone in the family except Joe and Henry used it, a loving way of acknowledging that she had a special place in the family. They all took care that she was warm enough, had enough to eat, that she wasn't tired. Her mother and Nell had made sure she had decent clothes and boots that fitted, her father and Matt had whittled her dolls out of wood, hung a swing for her on the apple tree. She had been quicker than any of the others to learn to read and write, and while none of them had more than two years with the Reverend Gosling, she'd had four. They asked her to read notices, or any newspapers that came their way, because she was far better than anyone else at it. Even being sent to play with Rufus made her feel that she'd been singled out, for Henry was only a year older.

For the whole two years she was visiting Briargate she was the focus of everyone's attention. She had to be neatly dressed to go there, in the early days she had to be taken and collected, and everyone in the family wanted to know about what she did there and what Lady Harvey had said to her.

Now she was nothing. She had to wear her old frock to work, and no one had any need to ask about what she'd been doing because they knew. She hadn't much liked going to the Reverend Gosling for lessons, but she'd learned things she could tell her parents about when she got home.