Luckily, the next day was dry, though incredibly cold, and they set off in a buoyant mood and caught the bus all the way to the city centre. Lucy, on her rare visits to Letterkenny, thought it busy enough but when she alighted from the bus she was amazed at the scurrying crowds filling the pavements and the constant rumble of the numerous vehicles on the roads.

  Most alarming of all were the large swaying and clattering monsters that ran along rails in the roads that Clara told them were called trams. ‘Glad there are none of those our way,’ Lucy said. ‘I can manage rail buses and ordinary buses, and even trains, but I wouldn’t go in one of these for a pension. It doesn’t seem safe to me.’

  Clodagh nodded in agreement. ‘And what’s that stink? It’s caught right at the back of my throat.’

  ‘That’s the petrol fumes mainly,’ Clara said. ‘It’s a city smell. You’ll get used to it. Like you’ll be hopping on and off trams without thinking about it before long.’

  Lucy shook her head determinedly. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘One day,’ Clara said with a smile, ‘I might remind you of this conversation. But are we going to stand and discuss the trams or do you want to look around the shops before we make for the Bull Ring?’

  ‘The shops, definitely,’ the girls said in unison.

  They were enchanted by the shops and stores that Clara led them into. There was one strange one called Lewis’s, which seemed to be in two shops either side of a small cobbled street. ‘That’s a department store and sells everything,’ Clara said. ‘It joins up on the third floor and is all one shop, and there are seven floors altogether. But come on because there are lots more to see.’

  They admired the highly decorated shop windows. Many shops were on more than one floor, with moving stairs between, much more entertaining to use than lifts, Lucy thought. Some of the women’s clothes for sale were draped on models set around the stores and were so beautiful that Lucy and Clodagh were often rendered speechless. Lucy thought she would be a little apprehensive to work in such salubrious surroundings, handling the most delicate and gorgeous fabrics, but most of the assistants were very elegant and appeared self-assured, and punched in the prices of customers’ purchases with great aplomb on massive silver cash registers.

  But the shops both girls preferred had no tills or cash registers at all. There the bill for the articles purchased was written out by the assistant and put with the money into a canister. This was carried on wires crisscrossing the shop until it reached the cashier, who would sit in a high glass-sided office. She would issue a receipt and this, together with any change, would be put into the canister and the process reversed. Lucy and Clodagh found it really enthralling, and their excitement made Clara smile.

  They had spent longer than Clara had thought they would, for everything was so new to the country girls, but she had recognized that and not wanted to rush them too much.

  ‘Come on,’ she said at last. ‘What do you say to a bowl of soup and a roll before we hit the Bull Ring? My treat?’

  ‘It would be terrific,’ Lucy said. ‘I didn’t realise how hungry I was, but are you sure?’

  ‘Course I am. Lyons Corner House, which does very good soup, is just here, a stone’s throw away from the Bull Ring’.

  The delicious soup and warmed crispy roll put new heart into them, and after it they followed Clara down an incline with shops of every description grouped along it, even a pet shop with a parrot tethered outside, squawking to everyone as they passed.

  ‘I’ve never seen a parrot before,’ Clodagh said. ‘Does he really talk?’

  ‘He repeats what you say to him, when he wants to,’ Clara said, ‘but you can’t have a meaningful conversation with him.’

  Lucy barely heard Clara’s words because they were by then at the bottom of the incline and on the cobbled streets of the Bull Ring. She looked around with amazement and she sniffed the air, fragrant from all the blooms of the flower sellers grouped around a statue. ‘That’s Nelson,’ Clara said as they approached. ‘He was a famous admiral.’

  All around, hawkers plied their wares, crying out what they had to sell or bartering with the customers. There was a special smell too, from barrows selling fish, vegetables, fruit, meat and cheese, mixed with those selling curtain material, bedding, antiques and junk, and there were cheap crockery and pans in baskets on the ground. One strident voice rose above the clamour: that of an old lady selling carrier bags and telling everyone about it, ‘Carriers, handy carriers!’ Clara said that no one could remember a time when she wasn’t there. ‘And she always stands in that same place,’ she went on. ‘In front of Woolworths – that’s nicknamed the tanner shop because nothing there costs more than sixpence.’

  ‘Sixpence, is that true?’

  ‘Oh, it’s true all right,’ Clara said, ‘so if you ever have the odd tanner then you can go in there and buy something.’

  ‘Look, the hawkers’ barrows sweep all the way down to that church at the bottom,’ Clodagh said.

  ‘It’s nice, isn’t it?’ Lucy said. ‘ringed by trees like that?’

  ‘Well, the church is called St Martin in the Fields,’ Clara said. ‘No fields now anywhere near, but there must have been when the church was built. I want to take you to the Rag Market, so we have to go down by the church. Watch out for trams dray horses!’

  Inside the Rag Market was a different world. Normally, Lucy would have little idea of the price of clothes because she had never had the money to buy anything, but she had noted the prices in Sutton, and in some very expensive shops and stores in Birmingham today, where the price tags had staggered her. The Rag Market was completely different, and though some of the clothes were not new, they were all of good quality and cheap. Lucy was able to buy herself two winter dresses, a cardigan and a jumper and skirt, which all fitted her a treat, as well as much-needed underclothes, including a couple of brassieres, which Clara declared were quite the latest thing.

  Clodagh had treated herself to a new dress and cardigan too, and before they undressed for bed later that night they tried on the new clothes. Lucy felt again the glow of happiness she had had when Clara had bought her the new garments to start at Windthorpe Lodge, but it was enhanced by the fact that these were bought with money she had earned herself and she was astounded the difference the brassieres made to her shape and how comfortably they cupped her budding breasts.

  Lucy’s enthusiasm for a few new clothes touched Clara, and she knew that she was the sort of daughter to be proud of. Keeping a weather eye on her, as she had promised Minnie she would, had eased the ache in her own heart a little. But she knew that now there was work to do to make the house ready for the family. On Tuesday morning, she said, ‘Now, we’ve had a few days off but we must get this house into shape. Lucy and Clodagh, you can start cleaning the bedrooms, please, because I have got to conduct some more interviews.’

  It was as they were removing the dust sheets, which Clara told them had to be packed up for the laundry, that Clodagh said, ‘You know what I said about leaving service at the first opportunity?’

  Lucy nodded.

  ‘Well, I think I would be stupid to leave at the moment. I mean, even from the bus, we saw the gangs of men hanging about the streets. And in the Bull Ring we saw the ragged, barefoot children and the women with babies tied up in shawls, and the veterans from the last war reduced to begging or trying to sell things from trays. So old Carlisle was right. But if I am staying I want a different working pattern from the one we had in Letterkenny and I am going to insist on it. You should too if you have the gumption to stand up for yourself.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with my gumption, Clodagh Murray, I will have you know!’ Lucy exclaimed.

  ‘All right, keep your hair on,’ Clodagh said. ‘Trouble with you is you are too anxious to please; don’t like upsetting people.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Look, Lucy,’ Clodagh said, ‘the gentry won’t change things for the likes of us, because as long as their lives are comfortable that is all they are concerned about. But I came to work “in service”, not “in slavery”, and while I have no objection to doing a decent day’s work I want a bit of a life of my own as well. Are you with me or not?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m with you.’

  ‘Right,’ Clodagh said. ‘I think the first thing to do is talk it over with Clara. She makes most of the decisions anyway, seems to me.’

  Clodagh was not the type of girl to wait when she had something to say and so once Clara arrived home and they sat to eat the lunch Hilda had made, she waited only until the woman left before telling Clara of her concerns about the time they were allowed off once the family were back and they were working to capacity again.

  Clara was tired, it had been a long morning, but at the end of it she had engaged a night nurse and a day nurse for the older Mrs Heatherington, and they had come with a load of demands too. As nurses they could pick and choose their employment and so Clara had had to agree to what she thought were vastly inflated salaries, and working conditions and regular time off that they wanted written into their contracts.

  She knew that world was changing and young people didn’t appear to see any pride in being ‘in service’, but rather the reverse, and all the kitchen staff and housemaids had to be given more freedom, and that included Lucy and Clodagh.

  ‘We can’t decide anything definite without Cook and Mr Carlisle being aware of it,’ Clara said. ‘And of course you also need Lady Heatherington’s approval, but your time off and hours of service will certainly have to be looked at and altered.’

  ‘We have never been allowed to go out in the evening,’ Clodagh said. ‘That means that we will never be able to attend any of the dances you said were all the rage, or even learn to dance in the first place. And neither of us has ever been to a cinema till before Sunday.’

  ‘You have a valid point,’ Clara said. ‘And I promise that I will attend to it as soon as possible.’

  ELEVEN

  The following day, Clara told them that the rooms assigned to the old lady were the old nurseries. ‘Lord Heatherington thinks these will be the most suitable because two further rooms, which were originally for the nanny and nursemaids’ use, lead off from the main room, and it has its own bathroom. Of course,’ she added with a wry smile, ‘it is also well away from the main body of the house. His lordship wants any trace of them ever being used as a nursery to be completely eradicated. The first thing we must do is give the rooms a thorough clean.’

  The girls hadn’t been into the nursery, and they stood at the threshold of the room and stared. The walls were incredibly grubby, with cobwebs trailing everywhere, the paintwork smeared, and a layer of grime lined the tops of the skirting boards. The bare floorboards had a film of dust covering them and were stained in places, and tattered curtains fluttered at barred windows that were too filthy to see through.

  Lucy and Clodagh looked at each other with dismay. ‘Oh, come on,’ Clara urged. ‘This won’t get the baby a new bonnet.’

  Lucy grinned at her and they all set to work with a will, their hair wrapped turban-style in scarves. Even Hilda came to help when she knew what they were about, and by the end of the day they all felt shattered but they were pleased with what they had achieved.

  ‘Now,’ Clara said, ‘it’s ready for the decorators to come in, and then the new carpets and bedroom furniture will be arriving. Lady Heatherington has chosen the things from a catalogue and I must phone through the measurements of the rooms and the windows so that carpets and curtains can be fitted.’

  While the refurbishment of the old nurseries was taking place, Clodagh and Lucy had plenty to do in the kitchen, especially when two crates of everyday crockery and other kitchen equipment arrived. It had all to be unpacked, washed and put away. Then every room in the house had to be thoroughly cleaned.

  Ada, Mr Carlisle and Jerry were catching the ferry on Friday evening and would arrive in the early hours of the morning, while Lord and Lady Heatherington, together with Norah and Rory, would spend the night in a hotel at the docks and sail on Saturday morning. ‘That way, when they arrive here in the early evening, everything will be in place and the same as it was before they left,’ Clara said drily. ‘So they will not be inconvenienced in any way.’

  ‘Not inconvenienced in any way,’ Clodagh mimicked. ‘What a selfish way to live while we scurry around making sure that everything really does happen like that.’

  ‘What else would you do?’ Clara asked. ‘What job would you do if you could choose?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ Clodagh said. ‘And at the moment, with Birmingham seemingly so depressed, it might be hard to get any other kind of job. But doesn’t all this bowing and scraping get to you?’

  Clara was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘When I first came to work at the Heatheringtons, I was like a lost soul. Working hard saved my sanity, I believe, and this house became a sort of haven for me. It also meant I could stand on my own two feet, so in a way I am grateful to Lord and Lady Heatherington. But you, Clodagh, are only expressing the mood of today. Unemployment, and the extreme poverty some endure because of it, is causing great unrest, especially when they see the lifestyles of the wealthy, which haven’t changed one jot.’

  ‘What d’you think will happen?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘I have no crystal ball,’ Clara said, ‘but I very much think that this lavish sort of lifestyle is on the way out. I have no idea what will replace it, and what the wealthy will do without their bevy of servants.’

  But if change was in the air, it hadn’t yet filtered through to the Heatheringtons. By the Friday evening before their arrival the nursery was transformed. Lucy and Clodagh had had a peep in that morning, for the carpets had been laid only the night before. The walls were covered with pink and pale blue flowers, and the thick carpets were the same shade of blue. The nursery bars had been removed from the windows, which were also painted blue to match the doors, and now pretty flowered curtains fluttered there. The nurses’ rooms were similar, and even the adjoining bathroom had been decorated. No trace of the original use of the rooms remained.

  ‘It’s so pretty,’ Lucy said. ‘If the nurses don’t like this, they are hard to please.’

  ‘Well, they are, aren’t they?’ Clodagh said. ‘You heard Clara say they want their rooms cleaned and their meals brought up to them. Cook will be raging about that, you’ll see. I mean, as if we haven’t enough to do.’

  ‘Yeah, and talking of new arrivals,’ Lucy said, ‘the new scullery maid and housemaid are coming this afternoon, so we best get our jobs done so we can show them what’s what.’

  They went down to the kitchen and were soon hard at it. Clara was pleased with them both. After dinner the two other kitchen staff arrived. Lucy was put in charge of Emily, who was to be the new scullery maid. She had a sallow complexion, a slack mouth, quite insipid grey eyes, and lank brown hair, which Lucy told her she would have to tie back from her face and hide under a cap because, ‘It’s more hygienic, and Cook is a stickler about that, I can tell you.’

  ‘My dad said that people like these would take the coat off your back and I have got to question everything.’

  ‘Good job your dad’s not here,’ Lucy said sharply. ‘He wouldn’t last five minutes, and neither will you with that attitude. Is your father a communist?’

  ‘No, but he is a shop steward,’ Emily said. ‘And he told me not to take bullshit from anyone.’

  Lucy gave a gasp. ‘You use language like that here and you risk having your mouth washed out with carbolic soap,’ she said firmly.

  ‘That ain’t a bad swear.’

  ‘Bad enough for here,’ Lucy said, ‘believe me. Anyway, what did your dad want you to do? Had you anything else lined up?’

  ‘No,’ Emily admitted. ‘That’s why my mom said I had to take this job.’

  ‘I’d say your mother was right,’ Lucy said grimly. ‘And if you want to stay here keep your head down, do your best and don’t go looking for trouble, for it will find you quick enough.’

  Clodagh was having the same trouble with Hazel, who was supposed to be taking over housemaid’s duties. She was a pale-faced girl with dark eyes, a sulky-looking mouth and head of nearly black curls. She seemed not the slightest bit interested in the work she was expected to do. Clodagh felt like shaking her for her indifference and the shrug that was often her only answer when she asked her something, but remembering how nervous she had been when she first started at the house in Letterkenny she gave her the benefit of the doubt.

  ‘Have you got that now?’ she asked, giving her a rundown again of the duties expected of her.

  ‘I’ll say,’ Hazel said. ‘Should do, shouldn’t I, ’cos you’ve gone over it enough bleeding times.’

  ‘If they hear you swear like that you’ll be in trouble.’

  ‘Think I care?’ Hazel said. ‘Soon as there’s a vacancy in the factory where my sister works she’s going to speak for me and I shall be out of here like a shot. They ain’t half so prissy there.’

  ‘Well, you aren’t there yet,’ Clodagh snapped. ‘You are here and it’s best you remember that.’

  ‘If you ask me there is far too much work for one person here.’

  ‘I already explained that if you are too hard-pressed then Lucy will help you,’ Clodagh said. ‘And if we need her in the kitchen then she helps us out, so you don’t have to worry on that score. There is not that much work anyway when Lord and Lady Heatherington are the only ones here.’

  ‘I heard tell there was an old woman as well.’

  ‘There will be, yes,’ Clodagh said. ‘She is Lord Heatherington’s mother and she has been in a home. But her health has deteriorated and the home can no longer cope, so he is having her back here. But there are nurses engaged to see to her, so she will be no bother to you.’

  The nurses, Lydia Pringle and Martha Townsend, also called that evening to inspect their rooms and reiterated what they had already said to Clara: that they expected their rooms to be cleaned by one of the maids and their meals brought up to them.

 

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