The Campbell Road Girls

Tilly nodded sagely. ‘You turn up all nice and tidy with manners to match then, my gel, and the job’ll be yours.’

Lucy grinned and delved into a pocket. She pulled out an envelope. ‘Should be mine, no trouble; if not, I’ll have Mrs Lovat’s hide.’ She playfully waved the envelope under her mother’s nose. ‘The housekeeper at me last job’s done me a lovely reference, don’t you know ...’

Winnie Finch thrust her son’s coat at him. ‘Get that on and get yourself off or you’ll be late for school, Tom.’

The boy grimaced as he gingerly stuck an arm in a sleeve. ‘Can I stay home today, Mum?’

‘No, you can’t. I’ve got me job to do, you know that.’ Winifred avoided Tom’s pleading eyes.

‘Can I stop home with Jenny?’

‘No, you can’t; she’s off out to find herself work.’ Winnie knew her son was still suffering from getting a belt off his father earlier in the week. Not that Eddie had intended to discipline Tom when he pounded up the stairs that night, face contorted in rage. Tom was his favourite and he rarely laid a finger on him.

Jennifer, the brazen little cow, had been his target because she’d defied him and poked her nose in while Eddie had been doing a deal with Bill Black. Winnie knew her husband hated any of them to see or hear what was going on when his associates called round. If Eddie could, he’d arrange it so Bill always turned up at an appointed time, rather than whenever he felt like dropping by with a box of stuff or, as he had this time, a pocketful of gemstone rings.

Winnie was aware too that the fact one of his daughters was turning into a little tart before she’d been out of school six months was less worrying to Eddie than knowing Jennifer had seen the jewellery. Jenny’s jaw had sagged open in the way Winnie imagined her own had done when she’d spotted those sparklers on the table. What she desperately wanted to know – and had tried hard to discover – was whether the lovely stuff was still in the house. Since that evening, Winnie had been through the kitchen with a fine-tooth comb and turned up nothing at all. She’d even accidentally dislodged a cupboard from the wall in her search and had made a very inexpert job of screwing it back in place. If the gems were in the house, and Winnie could find them, or Eddie’s stash of banknotes, she’d take herself and Tom off as fast as she could. The twins were old enough now to sort themselves out, in Winnie’s opinion.

Katherine was a good, hardworking girl – she’d been doing her little job serving in the kiosk at the local flicks the evening Bill Black turned up – and Winnie would feel a twinge at leaving her behind. But Katherine had a good brain on her and Winnie was confident she would eventually get a nice full-time position in a factory. Katherine talked constantly of training to be a nurse and Winnie reckoned she had the right attitude to see it through. As for Jenny, Winnie feared if she didn’t change her ways, she’d be hanging around on street corners touting for business from the likes of Bill Black. But, brazen as she’d been that night, Jenny hadn’t deserved the beating Eddie had given her. Her daughter’s legs were still black and blue, despite the fact that the blankets she’d dived under had given her some protection from her father’s fury. If Katherine had been home she’d also have got a taste of Eddie’s brutality because she always stood up to him if he set about her sister.

Jennifer’s howls had brought her brother running in from his bedroom and, though just six years old, Tom had jumped on his father’s back to try to protect her, and got a bash for his trouble.

Winnie helped Tom on with his coat, uncomfortably aware her impatience to get him out of the house was making him wince. It had been her job to stop Eddie’s rampage that night, not her son’s. Jennifer had deserved chastisement. Besides, whenever her husband was in one of those moods, Winnie always paid later ... in bed, and on that particular evening she hadn’t seen why she should have to put up with the bastard setting about her twice.

‘There’s an advertisement for an assistant in the Dobson’s shop window,’ Winnie barked at Jennifer, who was descending the stairs, hunched into her dressing gown for warmth against the draught coming through the open front door.

‘I’m going down the labour exchange with me friend later this morning ...’

‘Yer friend can go on her own. You go along to the sweet shop straight away and apply for the job.’

‘I don’t want to work in a poxy sweet shop. I’m gonna get a job in Oxford Street, in Selfridges ... or somewhere like that.’

‘You won’t be getting no jobs in the West End, miss,’ Winnie hissed at Jennifer. ‘You can give over with your fancy ideas and act a bit more like yer sister. Katherine’s had a job since the day after she finished her schooling. Time you got off yer backside. Now get yourself dressed and get along to Dobson’s and don’t come back without a job or it’ll be the worse for you.’

Chapter Four (#ulink_1ed44f96-c049-5975-9fa8-efc006a6b563)

‘Like it here, do you?’

‘Like having me here, do you?’ Lucy returned, equally sarcastic. She knew who’d spoken without taking a look so she finished leisurely positioning Lady Mortimer’s combs on the dressing table before turning to confront the woman behind her.

Lucy had just about had her fill of Audrey Stubbs spying on her. Since she’d started work at Mortimer House at the beginning of the week, whether she’d been brushing clothes or refilling scent bottles and cosmetic pots, the housemaid had seemed to materialise at the corner of her eye. Audrey could have been hovering on the threshold of her ladyship’s bedroom for some time before Lucy realised she was again being stalked.

‘Don’t make a blind bit of difference to me if you’re here or there,’ Audrey answered airily, lazily polishing the brass door knob with her pinafore.

‘Could’ve sworn it did,’ Lucy retorted. ‘’Cos ever since I started on Monday you’ve been on me back about something.’ She glanced past Audrey to check nobody was nearby to overhear. ‘What’s got your goat?’ Lucy demanded sharply. ‘I taken a job you was after?’ She’d stabbed a guess at the reason for Audrey’s animosity and seemed to have turned up trumps. The maid’s lips tightened and the malice in her eyes was concealed behind her eyelashes.

‘Let’s face it, if you’d been up to the work you’d’ve got it ’cos you was here first,’ Lucy pointed out with vague amusement. ‘Must be a reason why you was overlooked.’ She went back to the dressing table and picked up a delicate comb. She leisurely turned it this way and that. ‘P’raps Mrs Boyd ain’t any keener on you than I am.’

‘Think yer clever, don’t you? Coming here ’n’ swanking around, ’cos you managed to land a plum job. I’ve seen you eyeing up the men, don’t think I ain’t.’ Audrey had approached stealthily to jab twice at Lucy’s arm to gain her attention.

‘What?’ Lucy glanced over a shoulder, her features crumpled in incomprehension. She’d been used to getting attention from male colleagues when she’d worked at Lockley Grange. But there, or here, she’d never yet met one who’d interested her enough to make her stare back. Since she was a little girl she’d been told she was pretty. But all the Keiver women were lookers in their own way so she had never felt the need to boast about it.

‘If Mrs Boyd gets a sniff of how you’ve been carryin’ on with Rory Jackson, you’ll be out on yer ear, and serve you right.’

Lucy itched to slap the smirk off Audrey’s face but was puzzled by what the housemaid had just implied. ‘Carrying on with Rory?’ she echoed, frowning.

Rory was one of two chauffeurs who ferried about Lord and Lady Mortimer and their children. Apart from a bit of bantering at breakfast time earlier in the week, when they’d sat next to each other in the servants’ dining hall, she’d had little to do with Rory. They’d passed on the back stairs earlier that day, he descending and she travelling speedily in the opposite direction as she’d been told to fetch her ladyship’s favourite kid boots to be soled and heeled. The lad appointed to run to the cobblers had been impatiently waiting by the kitchen door for her return so she hadn’t dawdled, and had exchanged with Rory just a good morning. The most she could bring to mind about him was that he’d got fair hair, a pleasing face, and looked smart in his chauffeur’s uniform. Suddenly the penny dropped and she realised Audrey probably had a crush on him. Lucy raised her eyes heavenward in an effort to persuade her colleague there was no reason for her to be jealous on that score.

‘If you’ve got yer sights set on Rory Jackson, you can have him with my compliments.’

‘Not good enough for you, is that it? Proper full of yourself, ain’t you, Miss Keiver?’

Lucy huffed in disbelief. ‘What’s up with you? Look, I’m telling you you’re welcome to him. From what I’ve seen so far there ain’t one fellow here I’d walk out with, let alone pine over.’ Her tone was all mock sympathy. ‘Now, why don’t you sling yer ’ook so I can get on ’n’ do what I’m supposed to be doing ’stead of listening to your stupid prattle.’

‘I’ve met your type before.’ Audrey grabbed Lucy’s arm and jerked her around. ‘Butter wouldn’t melt one minute, then the next you’re round the back o’ the washhouse with yer drawers round yer ankles.’

‘Let go of me arm.’

‘Why, what you gonna do ... make me?’

As Audrey’s spittle flecked her face Lucy instinctively shoved a hand hard against her shoulder. Audrey tottered backwards with a grunt of surprise and ended on her posterior on the polished floor just as her ladyship’s maid walked in.

‘What the devil is going on here?’ Mrs Boyd barked, her round, bespectacled face a study of shock and disgust.

‘Lucy Keiver just pushed me over, Mrs Boyd.’ Audrey had immediately turned on the waterworks and was dabbing at her face with the pinafore she’d whipped up. She scrambled on to her knees and continued whimpering, presenting a picture of hurt innocence.

Determined to keep the disturbance, which had vexingly occurred on her patch, undetected until she’d had some facts, Mrs Boyd immediately hurried to shut all connecting doors. ‘Explain yourself, Lucy Keiver,’ she hissed.

‘I didn’t want this to happen,’ Lucy began. ‘I was just setting out her ladyship’s brushes and combs like you asked me to when Audrey come up behind and started accusing me of stupid stuff.’ She moistened her lips. She didn’t want to tell tales; at the Grange the servants had had an unspoken pact that, barring gross misconduct, they never grassed one another up. But Audrey hadn’t hesitated in immediately putting the blame on her. Lucy had not even finished one full week in her new job. She’d been growing to like it here too, despite having been put in the same dormitory as Audrey Stubbs. All she’d done was try to get the stupid cow to back off and leave her alone. It was her own fault she’d ended up on her backside, snivelling.

‘Accusing you of what?’ Mrs Boyd snapped, inclining stiffly forward. ‘Come on, out with it.’

‘She thinks I’m flirting with the men. She thinks I’m after Rory Jackson and I only met him Monday and haven’t said more’n half a dozen words to him.’

‘I reckon you’ve done more’n that with him,’ Audrey sniped, and narrowed her gaze on Mrs Boyd to gauge the woman’s reaction.

‘Enough!’ Clare Boyd had heard about Audrey being involved in a scuffle over a different male employee. Allegedly, she’d been found outside, smoking and flirting with one of the gardeners and a tussle had ensued in the kitchen with another girl. It had been Mrs Venner’s responsibility to sort that one out but apparently she’d let it pass because there’d been no witnesses to the fight and neither girl had made a complaint.

Mrs Boyd felt relieved that she’d had no hand in taking on Audrey. The housekeeper had been solely responsible for her recruitment. But Clare had been present when Mrs Venner interviewed Lucy Keiver and she had sanctioned her employment. Lucy had seemed to have an honest forthright manner – and an excellent reference from her previous employer – and Clare had believed she’d make a good addition to the household. She sighed to herself. In the old days, before the war, you could get decent staff, but these youngsters coming through were no good at all. They had no interest in anything but dancing, smoking and flirting with the opposite sex.

‘Don’t think it’s gone unnoticed by me that you have no business being here in Lady Mortimer’s chamber,’ Mrs Boyd snapped at Audrey. ‘The upstairs cleaning was all finished hours ago. And I believe it’s not two weeks since you were reprimanded for shirking outside instead of working.’ She looked from one downcast face to the other. ‘I’ll speak to Mrs Venner later and you can each explain to her your disgraceful conduct. Now get about your duties.’

As Lucy proceeded along the corridor she was aware of many pairs of eyes following her and a hush descending where moments before had been heard lively chatter. She pursed her lips and inched up her chin. Of course, the other servants had been gossiping over the brouhaha upstairs concerning her and Audrey Stubbs, and the likely punishments they would receive.

At the Grange, if Lucy had been given a ticking-off for some misdemeanour – and she’d certainly had some from her sister and brother-in-law – she’d have got sympathetic smiles from her colleagues. Not here. Cold glances and turned shoulders met her lonely progress towards the kitchens. Once she’d passed by she heard a few sniggers and her fingers curled at her sides.

She’d just had her dressing-down from Mrs Venner and had been told her punishment was the loss of her afternoon off next week. It had come as a bitter blow because she’d planned on persuading her mother to take a trip round to her sister Beth’s house. But she hadn’t felt it prudent to argue or even offer to have her pay docked instead. She’d simply bitten her lip and waited to be dismissed by the housekeeper.

She was the newest member of staff and had not yet made any friends amongst her colleagues. Prue Bates, who was the other girl sharing the dormitory in which she and Audrey slept, had been standoffish from the start and had marked her territory very clearly in the cramped attic room. Lucy considered most of them quite snooty for hired help. But it didn’t worry her; she liked her work, learning to care for her ladyship and her daughters’ swish clothes and accessories. She’d also fetched bits and pieces from the haberdashers and milliners. Lucy didn’t mind at all being an errand girl for it got her out of the house for a while. After the sedate pace of life at Lockley Grange the crowds and the bustle in London fascinated her. She’d walk along looking about and jumping out of her skin when hooting vehicles chugged past. Mostly the fellows were just impatient to get going in traffic but she’d noticed a delivery driver had done it to get her attention and give her a saucy signal.