“How come you stopped doing that crime stuff and moved to Australia? Person who took over from you ain’t worth a pinch of salt if you asking me.” She shook her head. “No sir, ain’t got what you had.”
“It was time for a change I guess.” Billie surveyed the room. A single bed, its candlewick bedspread smooth and regiment straight, two armchairs, the table and an old television set in the corner made up the total contents of the room but Primrose seemed more than content. An open window let in a soft breeze, the faint smell of orange blossom hung in the air. “I grew up in Sydney and it was time to come home.”
Elaine patted Primrose on the hand. “I’ll leave you ladies to it and bring in an afternoon snack soon.” She regarded Billie. “Sandwiches and sweet tea for you too?”
“Coffee if you have it, thanks, that’s very kind of you. I didn’t mean to impose on anyone.”
“Don’t be fussing, girl.” Primrose waved her hand. “Don’t get no visitors so gotta make the most of this one. Ain’t right to deprive an old lady of the only person she gets this side of Christmas, now is it?”
“Thank you. I’d love to take afternoon tea with you.”
Elaine bustled out of the room and they were left alone.
“Told me you wanted to talk about the big house.” Primrose sat forward in her seat, her bony shoulders poking out in the floral house dress she wore. She blinked her eyes, “Something about you…”
“What is it, Primrose?”
“Swear I met you before. This is your first visit, right? My old head playing tricks on me?” She frowned, thought for a moment and then shook her head.
“We haven’t met, Primrose.”
“No mind. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been asked to write about Foxborough Hall and what happened there. You know me and the way I work.” Billie proceeded to tell her the reason she was involved in the story. “There’re only two people still alive who worked there and I’d love to get an idea of what life was like when you were working for the family.”
“Who that other one be?”
“Mr Wilkes, the gardener. You’d know him, surely?”
Primrose smiled. “Such a dear man. How’s he doing then?”
“Great from what I can tell. He lives in town in a small house with gorgeous roses in the front garden.”
“Always did have the magic touch. Same as with the master too, could calm him when he got all wound up. Eric could charm the birds from them trees if’n he had a mind to.”
Used to watching people remember things when she did an interview, Billie knew Primrose had found a warm memory for her going on the smile on her face. “Tell me more about what it was like to live in the big house. How old were you when you first went into service?”
“I was just going on ten. My mama was one of the housemaids and talked the mistress into taking me on as a ladies’ maid for the girls. Such a lovely woman she was too. Taught me how to read and write. Was terrible the day they put her in that big stone burial house with her mama and papa. Master changed that day. Turned into a bitter man. I kept waiting for him to change, get over it and move on with his life but he never did. No ma’am, he a bitter old person right to the very end.”
“Tell me what’s going through your mind right now.”
“Them little girls. So pretty and so different.” She giggled behind her hand. “Like night and day they were. Miss Wilhelmina was headstrong. Her mama said she should have been born a boy. Followed her daddy around the estate trying to learn from him. Wouldn’t tolerate him brushing her off, no ma’am. Was in her nature to argue, get her own way and her daddy was no match for her when she got in a mood.”
“And what of Gertrude? What was she like?” Billie sat and listened, knowing she could take notes later. She didn’t want to miss a word this little old lady said.
“Could’ve sworn she was from a different family. Nothing like Wilhelmina, no ma’am. Dark to her pale skin and hair. Timid wee thing, like a mouse she was. ’Course when her mama died, she got quieter still. Her daddy despaired. Heard him telling someone once.” She scratched her head thinking. “Can’t remember who now, but said he would have to keep her home with him because he didn’t think she’d survive out in the big wide world. Wilhelmina though, that girl could take on anything and win.”
“But she didn’t get the chance, did she?”
“No, that she didn’t. Worst train crash I ever recall. Made the newspapers it did. ’Course we didn’t know it was her for a few days.” She ran her spider like finger over the soft covering of her chair, tapped out a pattern on the arm rest. “Poor Mr. Ernest. Heartbroken he was.”
“Mr. Ernest?”
“Yes’m, ma’am. They was gonna get married, they was. Been talking about it for ages and then she go and gets herself killed doing good things for them little orphans. Poor man died of a broken heart not long after.” She sniffed, wiped her hand across her eyes. “Terrible time for everyone it was. Everything go wrong for the family after that.”
“Why was that?”
“The master had to go and identify her. Claim the body. Didn’t know it was her to start with, they didn’t, not til he turned up and told them so.” She sniffed.
“Tell me from the beginning. What happened that day?”
“I didn’t know Miss Wilhelmina was going to Sydney. Always told me when she was going away so I could pack her bag for her. Seems she was home one day and then she wasn’t. Master said she made an unexpected trip to help out with something, he couldn’t remember
