Ella’s Journey: The perfect wartime romance to fall in love with this summer. Lynne Francis
that will do for now. I know little about your experience other than what was in your mother’s letter so I think it best to keep you in the kitchen for the first few days until I’ve seen what you are capable of, and where you’ll best fit. Now, drink up that tea before it goes stone cold.’
The remainder of the day passed in a whirl that left Ella’s head spinning by the time she fell thankfully into bed. Doris, who was in possession of a head of auburn curls and a tidy, well-formed figure, had brought her up to their shared room after her interview with Mrs S, as she had called her, and had sat on the bed watching as Ella unwrapped her belongings.
Horribly conscious of how few things she had, and how shabby they might look to someone else, Ella turned her back on Doris as she shook out a couple of dresses and quickly hung them up. She laid her hairbrush on the top of the chest of drawers, folded a few undergarments into one of the drawers and then turned.
‘There, done,’ she said.
Doris had been watching her without comment. ‘You didn’t bring much with you,’ she remarked.
Ella felt her colour rise. ‘No,’ she replied, and then hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Doris regarded her shrewdly. ‘No matter. You’ll be in uniform most of the day. We’d best go and see what we can find to fit.’
In bed later that night, Ella had relived the embarrassment she had felt in front of Doris and, later, Mrs Sugden. It was already late and she had to be up at five, but her head was buzzing with the effort of taking in so much new information. The room was dark but she could make out the shape of Doris in the next bed, already peacefully asleep. She ran through what she could remember of the other staff: apart from Doris, she had met Rosa who was lady’s maid to Mrs Ward, Mrs Dawson the cook and Mr Stevens the butler. At the tea table, she had learnt of the Wards’ three children: three well-grown daughters, Edith, Ailsa and Grace and a son John, who was only six. She had listened to the gossip as the servants gathered to eat before heading off to fulfil their evening duties. Mrs S had then shepherded Ella to a tall cupboard in the servants’ hallway, unlocking it with one of the keys on a chain kept at her waist. She’d pulled out several dresses and held them up against Ella, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips as she assessed the fit.
‘I think these will do. Try them on in my room for size. This one is for the kitchen, but if you make progress and go above stairs, you’ll need this,’ she said, indicating the darker of the two dresses. ‘Mrs Ward will be pleased if we can make do with what we have here rather than having to order up something new. You are tall, which means you could do very well above stairs, but we must be sure that does not cause your dresses to be too short. Too much ankle will never do.’
Mrs S appeared to be talking to herself as much as Ella as she ushered her back into her parlour and shut the door. Ella had no idea what Mrs S meant by her comments about her height but, in any case, Ella soon forgot them, overcome with shyness at having to strip to her underclothes in front of the housekeeper. Although she had made every effort to keep her things as clean as possible at the Ottershaws’, Mrs Ottershaw had resented the smallest scrap of soap or hot water used for Ella’s personal cleanliness, or for the washing of her clothes. And new garments were out of the question, so everything had to be darned and patched until it was no longer feasible to wear it.
Mrs S tactfully turned her back and busied herself at her desk as Ella slipped hurriedly into the first dress, a rather shapeless affair in heavy cotton, well-worn at the collar and cuffs but clean and serviceable.
Ella cleared her throat and Mrs S turned. She frowned. ‘Hmmm, a little on the large side but the apron should pull it in. I think it will do well enough for the kitchen. Now the other, if you please.’
Ella quickly unbuttoned the first dress, stepped out of it and just as quickly pulled the other one over her head. The fabric was darker in colour but lighter in weight and she immediately felt that the fit was better.
‘Ma’am,’ she ventured.
The housekeeper turned to her. ‘Mrs Sugden,’ she corrected, then stopped, taking in Ella’s appearance. ‘This will do very well,’ she murmured, half to herself. ‘Wait a moment,’ she commanded, then left the room, returning with a white-lace cap, cuffs and apron. She helped Ella with the cuffs, then propelled her to the mirror over the hearth and showed her how to re-pin her hair so that the cap sat well on her head.
Ella, unused to spending any time before a mirror, was quite taken with what she saw. Although there were dark shadows beneath her eyes and the dress was still a little large for her, she had never seen herself looking so smart. To her surprise her eyes filled with tears for the second time in the day.
‘Well now,’ said Mrs S briskly, ‘you’ll be wearing this within the month if you do well helping Cook, Mrs Dawson, in the kitchen. The girl who usually fills that role has left and until she is replaced that will be your job. Doris can explain your duties above stairs. At first, you will be cleaning and laying the fires before the family are up and about but, once I have seen how you get on, and whether what was said in your letter holds true, I see no reason why you shouldn’t make progress. Now, you’ve had a long day. Away with you to bed – tomorrow will be here soon enough.’
Ella turned again in her bed, eyeing her dress for the next day, which was dimly visible hanging against the back of the door. She made a conscious effort to stop the merry-go-round of her thoughts, travelling back instead to the family home in Nortonstall, to imagine Beth sleeping soundly in her bed. Was Sarah awake and worrying how her daughter was faring so far away from home? Or had she, too succumbed to slumber, worn out by the demands of her granddaughter Beth, and of Thomas, Annie and Beattie, the rest of the family still at home? In distant contemplation of the tiny room in Nortonstall, that now served as a bedroom to both Sarah and Beth, Ella finally drifted into sleep; alas, not deep and dreamless but restless and disturbed with anxiety about the unknown day ahead.
Immersed within a dream in which she was trying to scrub a floor that kept getting bigger and bigger, black-and-white tiles stretching off into the far distance and her bucket of water improbably small for such a task, Ella was aware of someone shaking her. Eyes heavy and gritty, she struggled awake and tried to work out where she was. It took a moment to recognise Doris standing over her in the gloom.
‘Come on, up you get. We need to get a move on.’
The chill of the room struck Ella as she swung her feet out of bed and onto the cold floorboards. There was only time to splash her face with the water that Doris had brought up the night before in a china jug: the iciness woke Ella immediately. She gasped and groped blindly for her towel, patting her face with the familiar rough and threadbare fabric. Then she pulled her dress over her head, manoeuvring her nightdress off underneath it, trying to trap as much residual body warmth as possible. Dragging her brush through her hair, she considered herself ready.
Doris looked at her critically. ‘You’ve no need of stays, I see. That dress is like a sack on you. Did they never feed you at your last job? And Elsie – Cook – will have words to say about your hair. Here, I’ll pin it up for you; she’ll find you a cap to hide the most of it.’
Ella was suddenly vividly reminded of how her sister Alice, who also suffered from unruly curls, had deftly pinned up her hair for her. A rush of sorrow and homesickness made her sway a little in front of the speckled glass of the mirror and she grasped at the chest of drawers for support.
Doris looked at her with concern. ‘You’ve gone very pale. Are you going to be all right? You’ve a long day ahead of you, you know?’
Ella nodded, unable to speak.
Doris shook her head and set off down the steep stairs, which led directly from the servants’ quarters in the attic to the servants’ hallway several flights below. The kitchen, heated by the range overnight, was noticeably warmer. Doris began work at once, showing Ella how to stoke up the range