Hope at Holly Cottage (7 page)

Anna had already been getting used to the witch’s belittling attitude, so that by now she would have been shocked if the woman
hadn’t
spoken to her like that. Stupid old biddy, Anna thought to herself. What good did it do her, making herself and everyone around her feel miserable? It was true that Lady A expected a lot of her and she had to be ultra efficient, but surely she’d achieve just as much in a more genial atmosphere?

‘Don’t you let that she-devil upset you,’ Mrs Smudge had whispered one morning when Mrs Davenport had been
particularly nasty to her. ‘Like it to everyone, she is. Reckons she’s jealous, I does, an’ afeared someone can do the job better’n she can.’

‘Wouldn’t catch her blackleading the range, mind,’ Anna had scoffed grimly, for that was the worst job she’d been put to. And Mrs Davenport refused to call her anything but
girl
, despite Lady Ashcroft’s instructions. But this morning, Anna didn’t care. A reply from Ethel had arrived in the post, and her heart had soared. And so she ran up the servants’ stairs to her little room to read it.

She sat up, cross-legged, on the bed and glanced at her watch. Ten minutes. But she needn’t have worried. Ethel’s note was brief with no real news. Disappointment swamped Anna’s expectant mood, and the black grief that hovered constantly in the wings clawed at her soul once more.

Oh, Mum. She got up and went over to the little window. It was one of those dull days on Dartmoor when the weather seemed to be asleep, with no rushing wind or lashing rain, penetrating fog or crisp sunshine. Just overcast, still and not particularly cold for the end of November. But visibility was good, and from so high up, Anna could see the barren folds of southern Dartmoor stretching away to infinity – or so it seemed. That part of the moor was especially bleak with no signs of habitation or, as far as Anna was aware, any of the dramatic tors that added power and excitement to the landscape elsewhere. Here it was as if the moor lay sleeping beneath the blanket of the sky, as if at eternal rest. Just like her mum.

She felt the now familiar tightness in her throat but she mustn’t cry, although when she looked at her watch, she
couldn’t see its tiny hands through her blurred vision. Ten minutes? At that particular moment, she didn’t care if she was late. Mrs Davenport’s scathing reprimand would be nothing to the pain in her heart.

She dashed the back of her hand over her eyes, stowed away Ethel’s letter, and ran down the stairs.

‘Let’s see what a mess you can make of that, then,’ Mrs Davenport gloated, hands on hips, as she nodded at the flower stand in the main entrance hall. ‘And remember, some of those flowers cost a lot of money and Lady Ashcroft doesn’t want them spoilt.’

Anna watched darkly as the housekeeper made her way through the servants’ door with a smirk on her face. I’ll show her, Anna seethed. Ever since Lady Ashcroft had told her that she had passed her month’s trial with flying colours, she was convinced that Mrs Davenport had been looking for a reason to have her dismissed. But Anna was equally determined not to give her a chance, and this was
not
going to provide her with it!

She stood back and studied the stand. She had seen it so often before, of course, bedecked in Mrs Davenport’s rigid arrangement, adequate in itself but looking more like a bird’s nest stuck on a pole. The stand was elegant and
deserved better, Anna considered. Perhaps … Could she possibly create an S-shape rather than the housekeeper’s halo, with the tall lilies on one side, sweeping down through the chrysanths, and then with a swirl of the variegated ivy trailing down below? Now, then …

A massive stone fireplace dominated the hall, but Anna had never seen it lit. November had been chased out by an arctic wind rampaging across the moor from the northeast, and Anna was glad of the old liberty bodice she had put on that morning under her blouse, and the thick black stockings she was obliged to wear. It was calm and peaceful in the echoing hall, away from the bustle of the kitchen and Mrs Davenport’s constant haranguing. Anna found herself humming as she worked, standing back to study the effect and decide what to put in next.

She had been so absorbed in her creation that when the heavy oak front door suddenly opened and was nearly blown off its hinges, Anna was so startled that she literally jumped and nearly knocked the flower stand right over. Her heart thumped hard for a few beats as she stared in shock at the figure standing on the threshold. Clad in a thick greatcoat flapping around its knees, a scarf swathed a dozen times about its neck, and its head adorned with a leather flying helmet and goggles like saucers, the creature looked like something from outer space or maybe from a horror film.

Don’t be so ridiculous, Anna chided herself. But she watched in bemused fascination as the apparition peeled off first its gauntlets and then its headgear and goggles. Oh, goodness, it was real. A young man, and a handsome one at that. But what did he think he was doing, bursting in like
this as if he owned the place? Anna glanced past him, and just before he heaved the door shut against the wind, she glimpsed some glamorous-looking, open-topped sports car parked regally on the driveway.

‘Excuse me,’ she began indignantly, for who was he to interrupt her daydream like that? ‘You can’t just walk in—’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl, are you going to take all day?’ Mrs Davenport’s tirade cut across the hall as she emerged through the below-stairs door. ‘You’ve other things to do than fiddle about—’ She broke off abruptly, and Anna could have laughed with bitter contempt as the expression on the woman’s face changed in a flash from rage to simpering humility. ‘Oh, Sir Gilbert! How lovely to see you! But we had absolutely no idea you were coming.’

‘It was meant to be a surprise!’ the young man grinned affably. ‘Oh, Mrs D, be a dear and make some tea, would you? And if you have some crumpets or scones or something? The pub where I stopped for lunch only did sandwiches and I’m positively famished.’

‘Of course, Sir Gilbert. And apologies for the girl, here,’ the witch added more sternly. ‘She’s spent ages arranging those flowers. Hurry up and clear away the trimmings, girl. You have other duties to attend to.’

‘Well, I think she’s made a jolly good job of them!’ He winked at Anna, and her heart gave a little jump before he turned away and strode towards the drawing room. ‘Mother!’ he called loudly, but before he reached the door, it opened from the other side and Lady Ashcroft came out into the hall.

‘No need to shout, Gilbert, dear.’

Sir Gilbert stepped forward and placed a respectful peck on his mother’s cheek. ‘Sorry, Mother. But you are pleased to see me, aren’t you?’ he cajoled.

‘Of course, dear—’

‘Don’t you think this young lady has arranged these flowers absolutely beautifully? Quite the artist and very professional!’

He was smiling broadly, and Anna felt the crimson flood into her cheeks. He had evidently forgiven her mistake, and was now complimenting her handiwork. She didn’t know which way to look.

‘Why, Anna, I had no idea you were so talented.’ Prudence Ashcroft’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Did you take the idea from a book –
Mrs Beeton’s Household Management
, for instance?’

‘I … made it up, Lady Ashcroft,’ Anna stuttered, politely dipping her knee.

‘Well, I think you should always arrange the flowers from now on, is that understood, Mrs Davenport?’

Anna saw from the corner of her eye that the housekeeper was making for the kitchen to prepare the tea Sir Gilbert had requested.

‘Yes, Lady Ashcroft,’ she answered, tight-lipped. ‘Indeed.’

And as she flounced through the below-stairs door, she threw Anna a look that could kill.

‘If you’ve finished playing about with those flowers now, young lady,’ Mrs Davenport smiled with scathing sarcasm five minutes later, ‘could I possibly trust you to prepare Sir Gilbert’s room while I get the tea he ordered? You can remember the way I showed you, I assume?’

‘Yes, Mrs Davenport.’

‘And be as quick as you can. We’ll be really busy in the kitchen tonight with Sir Gilbert here.’

Anna couldn’t really see what difference just one extra mouth should make, but the old crow would doubtless have her running round like a headless chicken, so she had better get on with the allotted task. She actually felt quite proud that the housekeeper had entrusted her with it, although she had a sneaking suspicion the crusty woman would be hoping she would botch it so that she could relish in chastising her! Anna vowed to do everything perfectly so that the she-devil couldn’t possibly find anything to criticise.

The huge range had a water boiler at one end and Anna quickly filled four hot-water bottles from the
upstairs
drawer, topped up the boiler with fresh water from the cold tap, and ran up the servants’ staircase. Sir Gilbert’s room was opposite his mother’s, with heavy oak furniture rather than the more elegant regency style in Lady Ashcroft’s ‘boudoir’ – as Mrs Smudge called it with a wink as she polished away like a demon.

Anna quickly set to, turning down the bed and laying the hot-water bottles on the mattress. The air smelt a touch musty, so she opened both sash windows just an inch or two at the very top, and then as she started laying the fire, Mr Jackson came in with Sir Gilbert’s luggage.

She was still on her knees by the hearth, carefully adding pieces of coal to the now blazing kindling, when she heard Mr Jackson return. Goodness, Sir Gilbert must have a lot of luggage, she reflected, but she didn’t turn her head. This stage of the fire was critical and she was determined that nothing would go wrong with her preparation of the room.

‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’

Anna was so startled that she dropped the lump of coal from the tongs. Fortunately it fell back into the scuttle and not onto the stone hearth where it would have made a black smudge that would be difficult to remove. Oh, no! It wasn’t the butler this time, but Sir Gilbert himself! Anna leapt to her feet and bobbed a curtsey, keeping her eyes on the hearth rug while the blood raced about her body.

‘Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you,’ the voice came again. ‘I was going to say it’s ridiculous still having open fires to heat this mausoleum of a house. It’s nice to have one blazing away in the drawing room, but we ought to have central heating installed. Mother won’t hear of it, though. All that disruption, she says.’

Anna was rooted to the spot. Here was Sir Gilbert Ashcroft,
baronet
, talking to her like a normal human being. It was bewildering, and she didn’t know what to think, let alone say, as she heard the young man walking about the room.

‘Is there something particularly fascinating about that rug?’ he enquired. ‘You’ve been staring at it solidly for the past minute. You can look up at me, you know, or has Mrs D instilled the fear of God into you about speaking to us? Bit of a harridan, she is. But we have to forgive her. I’ll let you into a secret,’ he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘She was born on Mars.’

A frown pleated Anna’s forehead. What on earth was he going on about? And then it dawned on her that Sir Gilbert was teasing her. It was so unexpected that moments passed before her lips twitched with a hesitant smile and she dared to raise her eyes.

‘Well, it’s nice to see a pretty face about the place,’ he
was saying now with an amiable smile.

Hmm, not so bad yersel
, Anna suddenly heard Ethel’s voice in her head, and she had to resist the desire to burst into laughter. Sir Gilbert really was good-looking, with merry brown eyes that danced with good humour.

‘Anna, isn’t it?’ he prompted.

This time Anna didn’t hesitate with her reply. ‘Yes, sir,’ she nodded.

‘Well, then, Anna, I mustn’t detain you from your duties, or you’ll get into trouble with Mrs D.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

She turned her attention back to the fire, feeling confused but more light-hearted than at any time since she had come to work at the Hall. Sir Gilbert was evidently arranging some of his belongings in the room, and Anna didn’t feel afraid now to glance back once or twice as she waited for the first layer of coal to catch properly.

‘Do you serve at dinner, Anna?’ Sir Gilbert asked casually as he moved about the room.

‘Oh, no, sir. I’m not considered, well, I’m sure you know what I mean.’

‘Mmm, pity. Well, I must get down to the tea I asked for, or Mrs D will be after me! And I’m ravenous after the long drive from London.’

‘And … and I’m sorry for mistaking you for … well, I don’t really know who when you came in,’ Anna ventured, feeling herself come out in a hot sweat again.

Sir Gilbert tossed a laugh into the air as he made for the door. ‘You are entirely forgiven, my dear Anna,’ he pronounced, and left Anna floundering in a deep but pleasant quandary.

Anna stood on the platform in a froth of excitement as the little train glided into the station with a gentle hiss of steam and a grinding of brakes. The exertion of the long walk into Princetown had kept her warm, but as she waited on the platform, the biting wind seemed to cut right through her. She could have sought shelter in the waiting room, but she simply couldn’t contain herself by sitting still, and scoured the moor instead. The moment she saw the first puff of white smoke in the distance, she began hopping up and down in anticipation. And now as three doors in the single carriage opened and Ethel climbed down from the last compartment, Anna sprang forward like a jack-in-the-box.

‘Ethel!’

‘Annie!’

They clung onto each other, dancing around in a circle and grinning like Cheshire cats.

‘Oh, you’m just the same!’

‘It’s only been a few weeks!’ Anna laughed aloud. ‘I’m not going to change in that time!’

‘Nearly six weeks,’ Ethel corrected her. ‘And ’aven’t I missed you! But what we’m going to do?’

‘Bowden’s Café.’ Anna bobbed her head in reply, linking her arm through Ethel’s. ‘I’ll have to start walking back about a quarter to two, so we’ve got four whole hours together. I thought we’ll have a cup of tea and then a wander, and then a bite of lunch. Either back at the café or in one of the pubs. Or there’s a fish and chip shop if you fancy that.’

‘Fish an’ chips sounds proper lovely! So long as we can eat ’em out o’ newspaper. Makes ’em taste so much better! But I didn’t realise how big Princetown is,’ Ethel marvelled
as they walked briskly into the centre. ‘I imagined a tiny little place, just a few ’ouses, maybe.’

‘Oh, no. It’s quite a community,’ Anna told her knowledgeably. ‘All the prison staff and their families have to live here, and there’s a lot of people employed by the Duchy of Cornwall. The Duchy owns most of Dartmoor, you see. Well, there is some private property, and then something called the Maristow Estate owns vast areas of the moor as well. So almost everywhere is either rented or what they call leasehold.’

‘You’ve got me there!’ Ethel grinned. ‘But there’s loads o’ shops an’ all! An’ look! They little wild ponies running loose in the streets! Aren’t they cute?’

‘There’s nothing to stop them wandering in off the moor, you see,’ Anna explained, smiling herself at the endearing animals. ‘Oh, that’s Bolt’s on the corner where I bought my new clothes. They sell
everything
, and they’ll order in anything you like. And back there, there’s a town hall where they hold dances and show the latest films. No good to me, though,’ she grimaced, pulling a long face. ‘Ashcroft Hall’s much too far, and I have to be in by nine, even when I’ve got the afternoon and evening off.’

‘What does you do then? Oh, in yere?’ Ethel asked as Anna opened the door to the café and a bell rang, summoning a pleasantly plump woman in a striped apron.

‘My first customers of the day,’ she beamed. ‘So what can I do for you?’

‘Pot of tea and two mince pies, please, as it’s nearly Christmas.’

‘Won’t be a jiffy, my dears.’

They took a table by the window and Ethel unbuttoned
her coat in the warm atmosphere. ‘Seems very friendly, like.’

‘Mmm, she is. I’ve been into Princetown two or three times, but it’s a long walk. I thought I might invest in a bicycle, like Mrs Smudge, our cleaner, has. Then I could go for long rides on the moor instead of walking everywhere.’

‘Doesn’t you feel a bit scared, all alone out on the moor, like?’

‘No, not really. I’ve got a map and I keep to the footpaths. And you can see for miles, so you can see anybody coming and avoid them if you don’t like the look of them. But I’m more frightened if there are cows across the path! Huge, they are, when you get up close! But I want to hear all
your
news, not mine.’