A Place Called Home Read online

  Lucy rose from her chair but she was reluctant to stand naked in front of strangers.

  ‘It’s all right, my dear,’ Miss Appleby whispered. ‘I’m used to seeing my clients in a state of undress.’ She held up the petticoat, shielding Lucy from Mrs Hodges’ critical gaze as she swopped the towel for the undergarment, and then she stood back, surveying her work with a satisfied smile. ‘It’s an excellent fit, Miss Lucy. And now for the unmentionables.’ She handed her a pair of drawers.

  Lucy put them on without argument. It was the thought of rescuing Peckham and setting off for home that made her compliant, and she stood very still while Miss Appleby slipped the frock over her head and did up the tiny pearl buttons at the back of the bodice. ‘My dear, it could have been made for you,’ she said happily. ‘What do you think, Mrs Hodges?’

  ‘Very fine, indeed.’

  Lucy could tell by Mrs Hodges’ tone that she considered the outfit far too good for a girl from the streets, but Miss Appleby was beaming with pride as she tied the scarlet silk sash around Lucy’s waist. ‘I’ve got your measurements now, Miss Lucy, and I’ll work on the order as soon as I get home. Mrs Hodges has supplied me with a list of your needs.’

  ‘Sir William wants only the best for his granddaughter,’ Mrs Hodges said with barely disguised disapproval in her clipped tones.

  ‘Yes, of course. I do understand.’ Miss Appleby closed her bag with a snap of the lock. ‘Nothing but the finest will do.’

  Lucy waited until she was alone again, and when their footsteps died away she held out the skirts of her new frock and did a twirl. If only Granny could see her now. She tried to imagine her grandmother’s expression when she walked into the attic room dressed like a young lady. The only problem now was to find her boots. They had been spirited away together with her clothes, and she would have to wait to put her plan in action. But she would walk barefoot back to Hairbrine Court if she could not find them. She glanced out of the window at the darkening skies, wishing that night would come quickly.

  Supper was brought to her by Susan, who thumped the tray down on the table in the window and left without saying a word. Lucy did not bother to thank her this time. If Susan wanted her to behave like one of the toffs then that’s what she would do. She ate ravenously. The food was delicious and like nothing she had ever tasted in her life. Feeling full and rather sleepy she settled in a chair by the fire, biding her time.

  Martha sidled into the room to collect the tray. She glanced nervously at Lucy. ‘Is it all right to take it, miss?’

  Lucy nodded her head. ‘What’s going on downstairs?’

  ‘I dunno what you mean, miss.’

  ‘What are the servants doing now?’

  ‘They’re having their supper in the servants’ hall as usual, miss.’

  ‘And the master?’

  ‘Lawks, I dunno, miss. How should I know what he’s doing? I’m just a slavey sent to pick up your tray, and I’ll get it in the neck if I don’t hurry back.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hinder you.’ Lucy eyed her warily. ‘Do you know where they got me dog? He’ll be scared without me.’

  Martha hesitated in the doorway. ‘He’s with the master’s animals. They got a big kennel in the back yard. I daresay they’ll eat your one for their supper.’ She left the room, and Lucy could hear her giggling as she made her way towards the back stairs.

  ‘That settles it,’ Lucy muttered, jumping up from the chair. ‘I’m leaving this drum and taking me dog. We’re going home.’ She hurried after Martha, following the sound of her as the slavey chattered to herself all the way down several flights of uncarpeted stairs to the servants’ domain. Martha disappeared into the kitchen and Lucy dodged past the open doorway, heading towards the back of the house where she hoped to find Peckham. There were doors on either side of the long passageway and she became disorientated. She blundered by mistake into a room with a pungent smell that she recognised as boot polish, and sure enough there were shoes lined up in pairs awaiting the attention of the hall boy, but hers were not amongst them. She hesitated for a moment, peering out of the door to see if anyone was coming, and having satisfied herself that the servants were all fully occupied she snatched a pair of boots that must have belonged to one of the younger maidservants, but were now hers. She put them on and they fitted, more or less, but equally as well as the ones she had been wearing when she arrived. Soundly shod and filled with renewed energy she felt ready for anything.

  She had to struggle in order to reach the top bolt on the back door, but eventually she managed to wrench it open and she stepped outside into almost complete darkness. The sound of barking led her to the brick-built kennels, and Peckham’s white coat shone like a beacon as he jumped up and down, recognising her instantly. Sir William’s dogs, a yellow Labrador and a bouncy cocker spaniel, kept a wary eye on the mongrel. What he lacked in size he made up for in spirit and it was clear that he had established his position in the pecking order. Lucy opened the gate and he leapt out, barking ecstatically and running round in circles of sheer delight. She scooped him up in her arms. ‘Hush, now, you silly boy. Keep quiet until we’re well away from here. We’re going home.’

  She had hoped to escape through the yard, but the gate was padlocked and the walls were too high to climb. The only way out was to go through the house and she retraced her steps, holding Peckham close. ‘Please don’t make a sound,’ she whispered as she tiptoed through the maze of passageways, heading for the back stairs which would take her to the entrance hall. She had to dodge out of sight several times as servants hurried to and fro, but after several close encounters she emerged through the green baize door, and at the far end of the corridor she could see the hall lights blazing. The house above stairs was like a different country, far away from the stuffy heat of the kitchens and the seemingly endless toil of those who served their master. It was eerily quiet as she crept towards the pool of light where the passage opened out into the marble-tiled vestibule. She could see the front door and she broke into a run, but Peckham was suddenly alert and he wriggled free, leaping from her arms, barking frantically. She was about to remonstrate when someone caught her by the scruff of her neck. ‘And just where do you think you’re going, miss?’

  She uttered a cry of fright and Peckham flew at Bedwin, sinking his teeth into the pinstripe material of the butler’s trouser leg. Bedwin did not loosen his hold on Lucy as he hopped around on one leg, trying to shake the dog off, and a liveried footman appeared as if from nowhere. He tried to catch Peckham but the dog was too quick for him and avoided all attempts at capture.

  ‘What in heaven’s name is going on?’ Sir William’s angry voice echoed round the entrance hall. He marched down the wide staircase, glaring angrily at Bedwin. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’

  Bedwin released Lucy. ‘I caught her trying to leave the house, sir.’ He turned to the footman, who was still running round in circles trying to grab Peckham. ‘Stop that, James.’

  Sir William descended slowly, coming to a halt by Lucy, who had dropped to her knees and was holding Peckham in a protective embrace. ‘You shouldn’t have locked him up with them big dogs,’ she said angrily. ‘He’s only little and he was scared.’

  James muttered something beneath his breath and received a reproving glance from his superior. ‘Go about your duties, James,’ Bedwin said icily. He turned to his master with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m very sorry for the disturbance, Sir William. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘No, it won’t,’ Lucy said, finding her voice. ‘You can’t keep me locked up, mister. I ain’t your long lost granddaughter, and even if I am, I don’t want to live here. I want Granny.’ She stifled a sob, burying her face in Peckham’s furry coat. He smelled different now that he had been bathed, but his warm body was comforting and he belonged to her.

  ‘Get up, child,’ Sir William said impatiently. ‘You’re going nowhere. You were present when I made the arrangement with your grandmother, and she
agreed that your needs would be best suited if you lived with me.’

  She looked up, blinking back tears. ‘I don’t belong here. I want to go back to Hairbrine Court.’

  Bedwin sucked air in through the gaps in his teeth, but he remained standing to attention, saying nothing.

  ‘Go to your room, Lucy,’ Sir William said firmly. ‘Of course it will seem strange at first, but you will settle down in time. Tomorrow I will advertise for a governess and you will learn to be a young lady, as befits my son’s child.’

  Bedwin helped Lucy to her feet and she did not resist, but she held onto the dog as if her life depended upon it. ‘I want me nana,’ she muttered rebelliously.

  ‘Your accent is dreadful and your grammar is appalling,’ Sir William said coldly. ‘But I am not a hard man. You may keep the dog with you, but you will be responsible for taking the creature for walks. James will accompany you to the park at all times, and if you make any attempt to run away the dog will be taken from you and destroyed. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  Lucy nodded wordlessly. The threat on Peckham’s life was more frightening than anything they could do to her.

  ‘Answer me, child. You are not a mute.’

  ‘I understand, mister.’

  ‘You will address me as Grandpapa.’

  ‘Yes, Grandpapa.’

  ‘That’s better. James, take Miss Lucy to her room and lock the door.’ Sir William held his hand up as Lucy opened her mouth to protest. ‘You will remain so until I’m certain that you are ready to obey me.’ He turned on his heel and ascended the stairs.

  That night Lucy slept with Peckham curled up beside her. She was awakened next morning by the sound of the key turning in the lock. Peckham leapt off the bed and stood by the door, hackles raised. Susan burst in carrying a jug of warm water. ‘Keep that bloody mongrel away from me,’ she said, eyeing him nervously as she made her way to the wash stand. ‘If he bites me I’ll tell Mr Bedwin and he’ll have him put down. I don’t like dogs.’

  Lucy sat up in bed. ‘He doesn’t seem to like you either, so it’s tit for tat, ain’t it?’

  ‘You’ll get your comeuppance, guttersnipe. The master will realise his mistake soon enough and then you’ll be back on the streets where you belong.’ Susan slopped the hot water into the wash bowl and thumped the jug down. ‘Get up and get dressed. I ain’t no lady’s maid.’

  ‘I don’t want to be here,’ Lucy said, holding her arms out to Peckham as he leapt back onto her bed. ‘If you’ll help me I could be out of here and away afore anyone realises what’s happened.’

  ‘I’d be dismissed without a character. I suppose you’d like that, you little monster.’ Susan made for the door. ‘Looks like we’re stuck with each other. I don’t like it any more than you do.’ She left the room, slamming the door behind her, and the key grated in the lock.

  Outside the sun was shining with the promise of a fine day ahead. Lucy got up and went to look out of the window in an attempt to get her bearings. The street below was quiet and orderly by comparison with the hustle of the East End. A crossing sweeper was busy at work, clearing the straw and horse dung so that ladies could negotiate the streets without getting their skirts soiled, and gentlemen did not muddy their shiny shoes. Private carriages vied with hansom cabs and there was not a costermonger’s barrow to be seen. Lucy had hoped that her grandmother might have had a change of heart. She searched the well-dressed crowds that thronged the pavements for a sign of her, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was hard to believe that Granny could have abandoned her, or that she had quite literally sold her for fifteen pounds. Surely she would regret her decision and return one day, saying it had all been a terrible mistake.

  Lucy turned with a start as the door opened and Mrs Hodges marched in. ‘Why aren’t you dressed, child? Have you had a wash?’

  ‘I had a bath yesterday, and it’s only April. I’ll catch me death of cold if I keep washing meself.’

  ‘Stuff and nonsense. I never heard such silly talk. We keep clean in this household, Miss Lucy.’ Mrs Hodges folded her arms across her bosom. ‘If the water’s cold it’s your fault. Now wash your hands and face and clean your teeth. When you’re done you’ll get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast. Sir William has decided that you ought to join him in the dining room. Heaven help us all.’

  Washed and dressed in the tartan frock that Miss Appleby had made for the child who succumbed to scarlatina, Lucy had to suffer while Mrs Hodges raked a comb through her hair. ‘I never saw such a wild mop,’ she said crossly. ‘But at least it’s clean and it will have to do.’ She stood back, looking Lucy up and down with a critical eye. ‘Come with me, but the dog stays here.’

  ‘He’ll be scared on his own,’ Lucy protested.

  Mrs Hodges grabbed her by the ear and propelled her out of the room, shutting the door before Peckham had a chance to follow them. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said sharply. ‘And when you’re in Sir William’s company remember your manners. Speak only when spoken too and don’t bolt your food.’

  Lucy said nothing. It seemed best to say as little as possible when in the housekeeper’s company, and she allowed herself to be led downstairs to the dining room. Mrs Hodges opened the door and thrust her in first, as if she feared that her charge might make a sudden dash for freedom.

  ‘Will there be anything else, Sir William?’ Mrs Hodges asked, giving Lucy a none too gentle push towards the vast dining table, which was laden with gleaming silver, crystal and fine bone china.

  ‘That will be all for now, Mrs Hodges. My advertisement for a governess should appear in The Times tomorrow, and I’m hoping to get a response quite soon. In the meantime, I suggest that you find something to occupy the child’s hands. She should sew a sampler or whatever girls this age do to pass the time.’

  Mrs Hodges did not look impressed. ‘Very good, sir. I’ll do my best.’ She bobbed a curtsey and backed out of the room.

  ‘Sit down, child,’ Sir William said, waving his knife at her.

  Bedwin stepped forward and pulled out a chair. Lucy perched on the edge, not knowing what to do next. Her grandfather was tucking into a plate of buttered eggs, bacon, kidneys and two fat sausages. He paused with the fork halfway to his lips. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’

  She stared blankly at the array of silver cutlery set out in front of her.

  She wondered if the servants would suddenly appear and fill the empty chairs set around the table, which would seat at least twenty people. ‘Don’t I have to wait for the others?’ she whispered.

  He stared at her, frowning. ‘The others?’

  ‘There’s so many empty places. Do the servants come in when you’ve finished filling your face, Grandpapa?’

  ‘Where did you learn that vulgar expression?’ He dabbed his lips with a starched white napkin. ‘No, don’t bother to tell me. I should expect it, I suppose. You really do have a lot to learn, Lucy.’ He speared a kidney on his fork and popped it into his mouth.

  Lucy’s stomach rumbled, but she sat very still hoping that someone would bring her food on a tray, as had happened the previous evening. Bedwin picked up what she thought must be a teapot, although it was silver and very ornate. He hovered at her side. ‘Would you like some hot chocolate, Miss Lucy?’

  ‘Is that like cocoa?’

  ‘Very similar, miss.’

  ‘Then I will. I only gets cocoa when Granny’s feeling flush.’ She glanced up at Bedwin and saw his lips twitch. ‘Is there any chance of a bit of toast or something? I’m bloody starving.’

  ‘One helps oneself at the sideboard, miss,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Would you like me to assist you?’

  ‘Yes, ta.’ She stood up, knocking his elbow so that he spilled a little of the hot chocolate into the saucer.

  Sir William clicked his tongue against his teeth. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to treat her as if she were a savage brought back from the colonies, Bedwin. Miss Lucy has lived a completely different existence and will ne
ed to be instructed in everything. I fear it’s going to be an uphill task.’

  Bedwin went to the sideboard and lifted the lid of a silver breakfast dish. The aroma of fried bacon was too much for Lucy and she grabbed a couple of rashers. Bedwin shook his head. ‘Use the serving spoons, miss,’ he whispered. ‘We don’t use our fingers.’

  Lucy was helping herself to buttered eggs when a sharp tap on the door made her jump and she dropped the spoon. ‘I’ll get a cloth and clean it up, Mr Bedwin,’ she said apologetically.

  Again he shook his head. ‘The parlour maid will do that, miss.’ He went to the door and opened it. ‘What is it, Susan?’

  ‘There’s a gent to see the master, Mr Bedwin. I told him to come back later, but he won’t take no for an answer.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘THE MASTER DOESN’T like being disturbed so early in the morning,’ Bedwin said in a low voice. ‘Tell whoever it is he will have to wait.’ He guided Lucy back to her chair, and when she was seated he plucked the folded napkin from the table, shook it out with a flourish and laid it on her lap. He stepped away, but before he could resume his position the door flew open and a smartly dressed man burst into the room.

  Sir William half rose from his chair. ‘What do you mean by this intrusion, sir?’

  Lucy turned her head to stare at the intruder. ‘Blimey!’ she said, staring at him in surprise. ‘Does he owe you money too?’

  ‘What are you talking about, Lucy?’ Sir William demanded incredulously. ‘Do you know this man?’

  ‘Of course she doesn’t know me, Uncle,’ Linus said hastily. ‘I don’t know who this child is, but I’ve never seen her before in my life.’

  Lucy leapt to her feet, stung by the injustice of this. ‘You’re a liar, mister. I found your wallet in Burlington Arcade and returned it to you. You gave me a measly three and six.’

  ‘It’s a lie. Take no notice of her, Uncle.’

  Sir William sat down slowly. ‘Suddenly I’ve lost my appetite. Why do you always have that effect on me, Linus? What trouble are you in now?’