The girls slowly made their way past thewhite weather-boarded cottages of Friar’s Road, their shoes crunching theunblemished snow. The only signs of Winchelsea’s having a heartbeatemanated from the wispy bands of smoke rising and dancing from the chimneys ofeach house that they passed, lacing the air with the scent of charred wood.
‘Curse this wretched wind,’ Edith snapped,nudging her sister away and grasping her hair at the sides. ‘I’ll looklike such a state when I get there.’
‘Why do you care so much about yourappearance? They’re employing you as a housemaid, not a music hall star.’
Edith’s cheeks tinged with analmost-imperceptible crimson but it was enough for her twin to identify as aflush of embarrassment. ‘I just want to look my best, that’s all.’
Mary stopped, mouth agape in mockastonishment. ‘Edith Jane Mercer! You’ve got a fancy man working atBlackfriars! Is that why you want to work all the hours God sends as ahousemaid?’
Edith ignored her sister and continuedwalking, her head turned indignantly to one side. ‘I’ve got no suchthing,’ she muttered.
Mary skipped along the frozen ground untilshe was a step ahead of her twin. ‘What’s his name, then? NotCharles? You don’t want to be a gardener’s wife do you? Or is itJack Maslow? He is very handsome,’ Mary giggled.
‘There’s nobody,’ Edith repliedindignantly, pretending to be absorbed by the bare wintry branches of passingtrees.
Mary grasped Edith’s arm. ‘Tell me,Edie,’ she said, a subtle seriousness to her tone.
Edith stopped and stared at hersister. A pregnant pause passed. ‘I think Edward has his eye on me,that’s all. Nothing more. No salacious gossip. Nocourtship. No fancy man.’
Mary frowned. ‘Cousin Edward?’
‘What other Edwards do you know?’
‘But…’ Mary began.
‘But what? What will the familysay? I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. You’re allowed tomarry your cousin. They need to stop being so Victorian,’ Edithsaid heatedly.
Mary mumbled something under her breath,as she was so accustomed to doing when her sister annoyed her. In pastquarrels, Edith would usually have taken the bait and asked her sister torepeat what she had said. On this occasion she held her tongue.
The girls continued walking insilence, the only sound being the sporadic surge of snowy wind coursing throughthe trees.
‘Does he feel the same?’ Mary enquiredsoftly, watching as her shoes pressed perfectly into the fresh powder.
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Justleave it, will you, Mary?’ Edith retorted.
The twins wordlessly trudged towardsthe dark entrance gates of Blackfriars, an icy wind carrying with it a freshflurry of snow, only adding to the chill steadily permeating the sisters’clothing.
Edith stopped at the open gates, took adeep, chilly breath and began to walk towards the mansion with Mary a shortdistance behind her.
‘Do you remember when we were littlegirls, sitting in our bedroom pretending we were Lord and Lady Rothborne?’ Maryasked with a smile, hoping to thaw the atmosphere between them.
‘We were young and silly,’ Edith retorted,turning her attention to the large friary, which had at last come intoview. The girls had been to the property on numerous prior occasions whenlocals were invited by the benevolent hosts to tea dances, fêtes and charityfunctions in the vast acres of Blackfriars. Despite their familiarity,whenever they saw the creamy-yellow Caen-stone building they were left in aweand wonderment at what went on inside such a grand place. Their cousin,Edward, had worked at the property as a footman for a number of years and hadspoken of Blackfriars as if it were some exotic creature. He had oftentold them of the great extravagancies which took place there. He haddescribed the sumptuous balls and elaborate birthday parties with such detailas to fill the sisters with a deep envy.
The girls neared the grand entrance wherefresh snow had begun to settle on the swept stone steps. Remembering whatshe had been told, Edith veered away from the front door.
‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful just to waltz inthrough the front door?’ Mary said.
Edith didn’t answer, making her way overto the side entrance to a plain wooden door. With a short, cursory glanceat Mary, she knocked on the wrought-iron ring and waited.
A great puff of warm air, laced with amorning’s baking, wafted past Edith’s face as the door was pulled open. Standing in full smart uniform was Mrs Cuff, the housekeeper, with whom thetwins were acquainted from the village. She was a tall lady with afriendly, hospitable face. Her dark hair was pulled neatly into a bun atthe back of her head. ‘Come in, girls,’ she said, standing aside to allowthem in.
Edith and Mary stepped into the welcomeembrace of the large kitchen, bustling with domestic servants busily performingtheir duties. The chef, a rotund man with a strong French accent andlittle knowledge of the English language, was barking orders at three kitchenmaids who scuttled around the room like terrified mice.
An impromptu smile crept up on Edith, asfor the first time in her life, she felt that she belonged: destinywanted her to become a part—a small part, she knew—in the carefullyorchestrated running of Blackfriars House. She had plans, definite, firmplans which would see her rise through the ranks of the household staff. If she worked diligently, which she was certainly not afraid of doing, shewould be promoted to second, then first housemaid, then lady’s maid and wouldeventually become a close confidante of Lady Rothborne. In years to come,she could be the housekeeper—the highest ranking female member of staff—and shewould be the one to welcome new applicants to the post of thirdhousemaid. She knew the job would be arduous with long hours and fewbreaks but she would be paid the handsome sum of twenty pounds per year—far andabove anything she had ever earned before. Finally, she would have theindependence that she craved.
‘I’ll take your coats, girls,’ Mrs Cuffsaid, extending her arm expectantly. ‘I’ll take you to Her Ladyshipmomentarily.’
Handing over their cold, damp coats, thegirls stood awkwardly and watched the comings and goings of the staff, whoseemed entirely oblivious to the new arrivals’ presence, each engrossed inexecuting their own duties.
Mrs Cuff disappeared with the coats,returning moments later. ‘Ready, Miss Mercer?’
Edith inhaled slowly, delighting in hernew title. Miss Mercer. All
