When Day is Done Read online

  In spite of her misery, Kate smiled back at him, and the picture of his cheerful face with its bright blue eyes, fresh complexion and silky brown moustache stayed with her and comforted her when he had turned away.

  Kate knocked shyly on the door and was bidden to enter. The room was large and comfortably furnished, and the white-haired old lady sitting in a chair beside the fire smiled at her and said kindly, ‘Thank you, my dear. That must have been very heavy for you.’

  ‘A man carried it up the stairs,’ Kate said timidly. She had put the full coal scuttle by the hearth and picked up the empty one, and was wondering whether she was expected to make up the fire. While she hesitated, Mrs Bradley had been studying her, and now she said, ‘I will attend to the fire, my dear. You seem very young for this work. Surely you are required by law now to attend school?’

  ‘I go to school,’ Kate said. ‘I’ll go back on Monday.’ And I’ll see Rose, she thought, and smiled at Mrs Bradley. The old lady picked up a tin of humbugs from the table beside her and held it out to Kate, who took one, murmuring, ‘Thank you,’ before returning to the kitchen with the empty coal scuttle.

  ‘You managed it then?’ Mildred greeted her. Honesty compelled Kate to tell her aunt that a man had helped her. Mildred sniffed, then said sharply, ‘What are you eating?’

  ‘Mrs Bradley gave me a humbug,’ Kate said, and Mildred told her not to get too friendly with the boarders. ‘They’ll only take advantage,’ she said. ‘Get you doing all sorts of extras for them.’

  Kate looked at her aunt with dislike but said nothing. Footsteps and voices could be heard in the hall and Mildred, who was making gravy, said, ‘Here they are. I never thought I’d be ready in time.’ A few minutes later, when the voices had died away, Mildred went up and banged the gong in the hall. Once the boarders were assembled in the dining room, Kate was kept busy bringing up tureens of vegetables and jugs of gravy to hand to her aunt at the door of the dining room. She was not allowed to enter the room until the boarders had dispersed, then she helped to clear the table.

  After they had carried down the last of the dishes, she and her aunt washed up what seemed to Kate a mountain of crockery and cutlery, then sat down to eat their own meals which had been kept warm in the oven.

  Although Kate was hungry she was almost too tired to eat and chewed with her eyes closed. She was only dimly conscious of being led to her bedroom by her aunt and helped to undress, and sometimes in later years she wondered whether she had only dreamt that Mildred had leaned over her and kissed her, then said softly, ‘You’re a good girl, Katie. I couldn’t have managed without you.’

  It seemed she had only been asleep for a few minutes when she was wakened by the sound of a cart clattering over the cobbles outside the window.

  She missed first the warmth of her sister’s body beside her, then memory came flooding back. She was in Aunt Mildred’s house. Rose was far away, living with Aunt Beattie, and Mama was dead.

  Now Kate could allow herself to think of her mother and to weep for her in private. Poor Mama. Kate remembered that awful night when Dada had gone away. She had been awakened by the sound of a bugle being blown in the street and the noise of shouted commands to the soldiers drawn up there.

  Suddenly she had heard screaming and had run downstairs to the hall, where Mama in her nightgown was clinging to Dada and screaming, ‘Johnny, Johnny, don’t go. Don’t leave me.’ Dada was saying, ‘I must, Sophie. You know I’ve got to go. I’m a Reservist.’

  When Rosie had run downstairs too, Dada had managed to pull away and kiss the girls, and Mama had sunk down on the lowest stair, sobbing. Dada had kissed her and said, ‘Look after Mama, girls. I’ll be back soon.’ But he had not come back, and soon he had been killed far away in South Africa.

  I tried to look after Mama, Kate thought now, but perhaps I didn’t do enough – or perhaps it was just that Mama’s heart really was broken as Mrs Holland said. She wept again, then suddenly thought of the kind young man’s words, ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn’, and her natural optimism broke through.

  Mama would be happy now, at peace in Heaven with Jesus, and reunited with Dada as Mrs Holland had told her. Rose would be safe with Aunt Beattie, because Aunt Beattie would love her and look after her. Rose was so lovable.

  I’ll be all right too, thought Kate. I’ll see Rose every day, and Mrs Bradley was kind and so was the man who helped me with the coal scuttle. She thought of his cheerful face and fell asleep feeling comforted as a nearby clock struck four.

  She woke to the sound of her aunt’s voice raised in anger, and tumbled out of bed then dressed quickly. When she went into the kitchen she was surprised to find that it was only seven o’clock. Her aunt was shaking her finger in the face of a cowed-looking woman who wore a man’s cloth cap on her wispy hair and a pair of battered boots on her feet.

  ‘You let me down like that again and you needn’t come back,’ Mildred was saying. ‘This is your last chance.’ She suddenly noticed Kate and added, ‘It’s a good thing my niece was here to help or I’d never have got through. Now get on with the fires.’ The woman limped away through the back door.

  The kitchen fire was already burning brightly and Mildred went to a large pan of porridge which was on the hob beside it. ‘Pass me two plates, Kate,’ she ordered. ‘We’ll have ours before we start on them upstairs.’ Kate was troubled by the charwoman’s longing glance at the plates of porridge as she carried a bucket of coal up the basement stairs, but her aunt looked so cross that she was afraid to comment. Mildred made a pot of tea and told Kate to spread a slice of bread with dripping for herself, but she made no offer of tea to the other woman although she had passed through the kitchen several times.

  ‘If you’ve finished you can help me to lay the table in the dining room,’ Mildred said abruptly. ‘It didn’t get done last night.’

  Kate followed her aunt meekly to the dining room where the hearth had been swept and the fire lit by the charwoman. They laid the table, then Kate cut and buttered bread and helped to carry porridge and boiled eggs to the dining room, although again she was not allowed to enter the room while the boarders were there.

  When Kate had carried down the dishes and was helping her aunt to wash them, Mildred said abruptly, ‘I didn’t bring you here to work, whatever that impudent woman said, but you might as well help until you go back to school.’

  ‘I like housework,’ Kate said. ‘I did nearly all ours—’ Her voice faltered, and Mildred said briskly, ‘Yes, well, hard work is the best cure for grief. I’ve got a girl coming today, so you can help Mrs Molesworth until she comes.’

  The charwoman appeared on the basement stairs and Mildred said sharply, ‘Have you finished the slops?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ the woman said meekly.

  Mildred was putting on her coat and hat, and now she said to Kate, ‘Right. You can dust the parlour while Mrs M. does the steps, then she’ll show you how to help with the bedrooms. I’ve got to go out but I won’t be long.’ She took a basket from a shelf and went up the stairs to the street.

  Kate quickly dusted the parlour with a feather duster, and when she peeped through the Nottingham lace curtain she could see Mrs Molesworth scrubbing the flight of steps to the front door. She went to the door. ‘Should I do the brass, Mrs Molesworth?’ she asked, and her offer was accepted gratefully.

  Kate finished polishing the knocker and door handle at the same time as Mrs Molesworth finished scrubbing. The woman groaned in agony as she straightened up, and Kate ran lightly down the steps and carried the bucket down the area steps to the kitchen. ‘God bless you, girl,’ Mrs Molesworth said, and Kate asked what she had done to her leg.

  ‘It’s a varicose ulcer,’ replied the woman. ‘I can stand pain but it was that bad yesterday I passed out when I put me foot to the floor. Me poor feller was nearly demented, seeing me lying there and not able to do nothing for me. He thought I’d snuffed it.’

  ‘Couldn’t he have helped you up?�
�� asked Kate.

  ‘No, girl. He’s lying flat on his back these five years. A bale fell on him and broke ‘is back when he was working in a ship’s hold,’ said Mrs Molesworth. ‘He managed to throw some water on me face and I come round, like.’

  Kate looked horrified. ‘But why did you come today?’ she asked. ‘Your leg’s still bad, isn’t it?’ She pushed a chair forward for Mrs Molesworth to sit down, and the woman lowered herself gingerly on to it.

  ‘Lord bless you, girl, I darsen’t stay off again. I need the money anyhow,’ she said. ‘I tried to get here yesterday because I knew Emily had scarpered and the missus was going to a funeral, but me boot got full of blood and I had to turn back.’

  She had been watching the feet of people passing the window, and now she said nervously, ‘Get the cleaning box outa the cupboard, girl, for fear she comes back. That way we can let on we’re on our way.’

  A minute later she stood up. ‘It’s no use, girl. I can’t settle. She could be back any minute. We’d better get upstairs.’ They went up to the bedrooms with Kate carrying the cleaning box and the sweeping brush and dustpan.

  They worked together in silence for a while, apart from grunts of pain from Mrs Molesworth, then Kate said timidly, ‘It was my mama’s funeral that Aunt Mildred went to yesterday.’

  ‘Of course. Me wits are wandering,’ the charwoman exclaimed. ‘I’ve placed you now. You’re Sophie and Johnny’s girl. She’s a close one, the missus. She never tells no one nothing.’

  ‘Did you know Mama and Dada?’ Kate asked eagerly.

  ‘Oh aye, and I can see where you get your good heart. Your da was the kindest lad that walked the earth. He’d do anyone a good turn. I heard your poor ma had died, so I should’ve realised that was the funeral the missus was going to.’

  They moved on to the next bedroom, where Kate worked quickly under Mrs Molesworth’s direction while the charwoman leaned on the footrail of the bed. ‘You’ve got a knack for housework, girl,’ she said. ‘But don’t be too handy or she’ll take advantage. Bit of a slavedriver she is. Wasn’t there two of you?’

  ‘Yes, but Rose has gone to live with Aunt Beattie,’ Kate said.

  ‘You’ll miss her then, girl,’ the charwoman said sympathetically, and Kate’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Yes. I thought we could stay in our own house,’ she said. ‘I hope she’s not fretting. She’s only just ten.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. She’s fallen on her feet there,’ Mrs Molesworth said. ‘No shortage of money, and your Aunt Beattie was always easy-going. Mind you, she’s had an easy life. Not like the missus here. She was left badly off when her husband died, but she’s worked hard to keep herself, taking in lodgers – or paying guests, as she calls them.’

  Kate looked up in surprise. ‘I didn’t know Aunt Mildred had been married,’ she said.

  ‘Only for a year,’ Mrs Molesworth said. ‘She never mentions him.’ She looked over her shoulder and dropped her voice. ‘He died of a heart seizure in another woman’s bed,’ she whispered.

  ‘The woman was kind to put him in her own bed, wasn’t she?’ said Kate innocently. ‘Did he take ill in her house?’

  ‘Er – er yes, but don’t say nothing to your aunt,’ Mrs Molesworth said hurriedly. ‘She doesn’t like to talk about it. Don’t take no notice to me, girl. Me tongue’ll get me hung, my feller says. It runs away with me.’

  She had barely finished speaking when they heard the kitchen door opening. Mrs Molesworth seized a damp cloth and bent to wipe the skirting board. The next moment Mildred appeared in the doorway. ‘Haven’t you finished yet?’ she demanded.

  ‘Nearly, ma’am,’ Mrs Molesworth said, resuming her cowed air.

  Mildred sniffed. ‘Get on with it then,’ she said. ‘And you, Kate, you come with me.’ As they returned to the kitchen, Mildred said sharply, ‘Don’t encourage that woman to talk, Kate. She’d rather gossip than work.’

  ‘She was working very hard, Auntie,’ Kate said nervously, feeling instinctively that it would be better not to mention Mrs Molesworth’s bad leg.

  ‘She’d better,’ Mildred said grimly. The basket was on the kitchen table and Mildred told Kate to unpack it and put the food away. ‘I’ve got to go out again,’ she added, and went up to her own room at the back of the hall.

  Before Kate had finished putting away the shopping, Mildred reappeared in the good black clothes she had worn for the funeral. ‘The lads from the butcher and the grocer will be bringing my orders. Check what they bring against the lists before you let them go. Oh, and a girl is coming about the place, so tell her to wait if I’m not back. I won’t be long.’ She turned back before going up the basement stairs. ‘And see that Mrs Molesworth gets on with her work. I’ll check what’s been done when I come back.’

  A minute later Mrs Molesworth appeared on the basement stairs. ‘I seen her outa the winda going off in her best clothes,’ she said. ‘Did she say where she was going?’

  ‘No, only that she wouldn’t be long,’ Kate said.

  ‘It’ll be something to do with your mam’s affairs,’ the charwoman said. ‘Any chance of a cuppa? She usually gives me one when I’ve done the rooms.’ Kate set about making a pot of tea and the charwoman sat down, stretching her leg carefully before her.

  ‘Is your leg very sore?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Agony, girl, agony. Still, what can’t be cured must be endured, as the preacher said.’ She looked about her hopefully. ‘Anything left from breakfast – a bit of bread or something?’ she asked. ‘I’m that empty me belly thinks me throat’s cut.’

  Kate found two thick crusts of bread in the crock and spread dripping thickly on them. Mrs Molesworth wolfed one down as though she was starving, but the other she wrapped and stowed away among her ragged clothes.

  ‘My feller’ll enjoy that,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t get in no trouble for it, girl.’

  ‘No, Auntie won’t mind,’ Kate said.

  ‘I’m not so sure, girl. Mind you, she’s not mean with food. She keeps a good table and good fires, that’s why her rooms are always full, but nobody’d do her outa a ha’penny. She takes after her old feller in that way, though he was that mean he’d skin a flea for its hide.’

  ‘But he’d be Mama’s father too,’ Kate exclaimed. ‘Did you know him well?’

  ‘Me ma cleaned for their ma and I used to go with her to help her, so I knew all of them. Proper lady your grandma was. Different from him. Beattie and specially your ma took after her.’ She looked uneasy. ‘I’d better get on, girl. She’ll want to know what I’ve done.’

  Kate said quickly, ‘Have another cup of tea. I’ll help with the work.’ She poured the tea before the woman could protest, and said eagerly, ‘Do you know the people here? A man carried the coal bucket upstairs for me. Do you know his name?’

  ‘There’s three men, girl but it’d probably be Henry Barnes. Jack Rothwell wouldn’t put himself out, and old Hayman wouldn’t lower himself. What was he like?’

  ‘He had blue eyes and a nice face,’ Kate said. ‘He looked very healthy and sort of alive. Very cheerful.’

  ‘Aye, that’d be Henry Barnes,’ said Mrs Molesworth. ‘He’d be the one to do a good turn. He’s a nice feller. Never complains like old Hayman.’ They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Kate got up to open it.

  A thin girl with an aggressive air stood there. ‘I’ve been spoke for for this place,’ she said. ‘Me name’s Martha Johnson.’

  Kate smiled at her. ‘Come in,’ she said. ‘My aunt said you were to come in and wait. She won’t be long. Sit by the fire and I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.’

  The girl, who looked miserably cold, sat by the glowing fire while Kate made tea for her. In spite of her fears about Mildred’s return, Mrs Molesworth lingered to ask questions, but she was forestalled.

  ‘You the other help? Yer not very big, are yer?’ Martha said, inspecting Kate.

  ‘No. I’ve come to live with my aunt,’ Kate explained. �
��I’ll be going to school on Monday but I’ll help when I come home.’

  There was another knock on the door and the butcher’s boy and grocer’s boy arrived in quick succession. Kate checked the lists as she had been told, then Mrs Molesworth showed her where the food was stored. ‘I’d better get on, girl,’ the charwoman said nervously. ‘She’ll be in on top of us before I can turn round.’

  ‘What can I do?’ asked Kate, and Mrs Molesworth told her to scrub the kitchen table. ‘Don’t leave her on her own,’ she said in an undertone. ‘I’ll go and polish the floors upstairs.’

  ‘Why don’t you do the table so you don’t have to kneel?’ Kate said. ‘And I’ll do the polishing.’

  ‘God bless you, girl. You’ve a heart of gold,’ said Mrs Molesworth. ‘Better not let on to the missus though.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Kate assured her.

  After polishing the floors, Kate finished the bedrooms, but when she came back to the kitchen Mildred had not yet returned. Martha still sat close to the glowing fire, but she had lost her pinched, frozen look, and Mrs Molesworth was scrubbing out a cupboard at the other end of the large kitchen. Kate went to her.

  ‘I’ve scrubbed out the scullery but I kept the door open,’ the cleaner whispered. ‘I tried to find out a bit about her but she was as tight as a drum. Must have something to hide, but the missus will soon find it out, never fear. Is she the only one coming for a job?’

  ‘She was the only one mentioned,’ Kate said. ‘Why?’

  Mrs Molesworth was smiling and nodding. ‘Thought so,’ she said knowingly. ‘She always had two of them, you know, but Ethel got another place last week and Emily walked out on Thursday because the missus wasn’t doing nothing to get no one else. We can see why now, can’t we?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Kate said, looking puzzled.

  The charwoman shut one eye and placed her finger against her nose. ‘Think, girl,’ she said. ‘When did she find out she could bring you here? That’s why she’s only got the one. She’s got you lined up for the other one.’