Eleven
Without her sister to talk to, Dora was feeling utterly lost.
As a personal maid to Mrs Lowe she saw little of the other servants, giving her a sense of somehow being a prisoner, despite Mrs Lowe’s kindness towards her.
The mistress could be demanding, if in a gentle way, and although she was always giving her little things – embroidered handkerchiefs, a ribbon for her hair, a modest little brooch – Dora suspected it was more to keep her at her side than from natural generosity.
‘You know your position is a privileged one, Dora – much envied,’ she had reminded her when she’d once shown signs of discontent by saying how she missed Ellie’s company. ‘You have only to look in the “Wanted” column in the newspapers to see that. Only those with excellent qualifications are invited to interviews for such a position as yours.’
‘It’s just that I’m not even to talk to her,’ Dora had insisted.
She saw the woman’s chubby lips purse irritably. ‘I’ve taken you on as my personal maid and, I hope, companion, Dora, despite your tender years, and have taken great pains to teach you, because I can see great potential in you. You could go far in a position such as you now have.’
‘Yes, madam,’ Dora had obligingly agreed, too timid to mention Ellie again. She didn’t want to jeopardize her job. She had all a girl could want – more than most servants got: comfort, little treats, the regard of her mistress, and a wage that had recently been increased. It had come to her ears that Ellie hadn’t received any increase in her wages, even though she had apparently wheedled her way into the master’s good books so that he’d even provided a tutor once a week to help bring out her artistic talent.
‘Your sister’s made sure she’s landed on her feet orright,’ Florrie had whispered to her out of everyone’s hearing when they’d passed on the stairs just after Ellie had got up from her bout of ’flu.
‘She never did it deliberately,’ Dora offered defensively, but Florrie gave a derisory sniff.
‘I reckon you both worked it well if you ask me, ’er with the master and you with the mistress, and not been ’ere but a couple of months.’
Dora had gone on her way without replying to that. She’d felt hurt, but she supposed they had both, in fact, landed on their feet. She ought to have been grateful after what had lain in front of them after losing their mother. She was – if only she could just have been with Ellie now and again.
‘One in your position does not associate with the lower servants,’ Mrs Lowe had told her, leaving her to wonder if this was such a good thing.
This Sunday was Ellie’s first day off in four weeks. Dora had had her day off a few days before. Ellie had seen her from the landing window as she was dusting the ornaments on the narrow sideboard.
The poor thing, dressed up in a sombre cream summer blouse and beige skirt, short beige jacket, cream gloves and a light-coloured straw boater, had looked quite the young lady as she’d left the house – only just turned thirteen – but lonely. Ellie hadn’t even seen her on her birthday; nor had Dora seen her on hers.
She’d looked up as Ellie tapped frantically on the pane. There was a lost look on her face. Ellie threw up the lower sash window and leaned out.
‘You orright?’ She automatically spoke nicely these days, but at this moment it seemed more appropriate not to.
Dora’s face lit up. ‘I’m fine. How are you?’ She spoke correctly and Ellie suddenly felt a pang of longing for the old days when such things hadn’t mattered.
‘I miss seeing you,’ she called in a stage whisper.
‘Me too.’ That was more like it. But the light in her face had faded.
‘Where you going?’
‘I don’t know. Walk round the shops, I suppose; have a bit of lunch somewhere, I suppose.’
It sounded such a lonely idea: a thirteen-year-old all on her own looking around the shops to while away the time that should have been a pleasure, until it was time to come back here.
‘Tell you what,’ she hissed down to her; ‘go and see Mrs Sharp, our old neighbour. She’ll make you welcome. She might even give you a bit of dinner and you’ll have a nice time. If you can, take her in a bunch of flowers. She’d appreciate that. When I have my day off on Sunday, I’m going to pay her a visit too.’
She was looking forward to calling on them then. Hopefully Ronnie Sharp would be there. ‘And see if you can find anything out about Dad,’ she’d reminded her on an afterthought. ‘Ask her—’
‘What on earth do you think you are doing?’
Ellie had broken off and spun round to see Mrs Lowe standing behind her. ‘What are you doing?’ she’d repeated, her plump little figure almost trembling with fury.
‘I was just passing the time of day with my sister, that’s all,’ Ellie had returned none too politely. If there was anyone she detested more than her own father, it was this woman.
‘I have explained to Dora that a lady’s maid never associates herself with the lower servants and I would beg you to remember this.’
‘It is her day off, madam,’ Ellie had reminded her coldly. ‘She can choose who she wants to speak to on her day off.’
Mrs Lowe’s lips had tightened. ‘I do not like your attitude, young woman. Nor servants leaning out of windows in my house yelling into the street like fishwives. I shall see about this. Now close the window and get back to work!’
The plump little figure had turned on its heel and descended the rest of the stairs to breakfast while Ellie had pulled down the window, giving a farewell wave to her sister.
Later she’d heard raised voices wafting from the
