Lily at Lissadell Read online

  I didn’t like the sound of this at all. What if I got things wrong? What if they didn’t like me?’

  ‘So I have to become a new person?’

  ‘Not new, just a little bit different. Watch what the other servants do. Remember to be nice, and then people will be nice to you. Now go along, or you’ll be late – you don’t want to be walking on your own in the dark.’

  I hugged her for a long time. When I pulled myself from her arms I saw that she was crying. I did my best to smile. ‘Bye, Mam. Bye, children,’ I whispered, and then I ran away, so I wouldn’t cry too.

  * * *

  I felt strange as I walked along the lane in my Sunday dress, my mam’s best shawl and my only boots, which didn’t have any holes in them, but were made for a girl with smaller feet than mine.

  I soon came to the schoolhouse, which was all locked up and empty. On Monday morning, Hanora and Rose and all the other children would arrive, and I would be far away, living another life. I wondered who would sit at my desk, and use my inkwell? Who would hang their coat on my hook? Whose story would the Master like the best? Who would be in charge in games of Pickey, and make sure that everyone got a fair turn?

  I’d never been anywhere on my own before, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. If the little ones were with me, I could have listened to their chatter. If Hanora and Rose were there I could have put on funny voices and made them laugh. But I was on my own, and I had a long walk ahead of me.

  * * *

  I’d been walking by the seashore for a long time. I collected some pretty shells for Winnie and Anne, and as I put them into my pocket, I almost managed to forget where I was going, and why. Then I came around a bend, and when I looked through the trees, I broke one of Mam’s rules and let my mouth hang open. I couldn’t help it – in front of me was the biggest and grandest house I had ever seen.

  I started to walk away from the water towards the house, but then I stopped. Once I entered that place, my childhood would be over forever – and I wasn’t quite ready for that.

  After looking all around, making sure no one else was on the beach, I took off my boots and my stockings and put them on the stone wall. Then I held up my skirt and ran towards the sea. The water was cool and fresh on my sore feet and I wanted to stay paddling forever. I found some flat stones and skimmed them on the surface of the water, the way Daddy had shown me when the whole family went on a big adventure to Rosses Point. Thinking about that special day made me sad, so I tried to concentrate on the sea and the soft wind and the seagulls squawking over my head.

  When my arm was sore from skimming stones, I put on my shoes and stockings and followed the path leading towards the Big House. As I came closer, I felt as if I had no right to be in such a fancy place. I was afraid that someone would come along and chase me away – but then maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing ever – I could go back to Mam and tell her the whole thing had been a big mistake.

  But no one came, so I continued walking, half afraid to look at the windows, in case I’d see someone watching me.

  I made it safely to a huge wooden door, which was much higher than the roof of my own house – it was big enough to drive a pony and trap through, which seemed very strange to me. While I stood there wondering if I should knock, a fine gentleman in a fancy suit came up behind me. He stood looking at me without saying a word.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ I said politely. ‘Are you the owner of the house?’

  He threw his head back and laughed which I thought was very rude. I could feel my face going red. I must have looked a sight in my too-small boots, with my dress damp from paddling, carrying my schoolbag and looking as if I was just about ready to die. Maybe the man felt sorry for me because he stopped laughing.

  ‘Unfortunately I am not the master of the house,’ he said. ‘My name is Albert and I am the baronet’s driver.’

  I didn’t know what a baronet was, and I didn’t want to appear foolish by asking, though maybe I looked more foolish standing there saying nothing. (At least I remembered to keep my mouth closed.)

  ‘Dare I say you look a little bit lost?’ he asked.

  Now that he was being kind, I really wanted to cry, but I was afraid if I started I would never be able to stop.

  ‘I’m the new housemaid,’ I said. ‘And I don’t know where to go.’

  ‘Well, you don’t go in that door,’ he said. ‘That door is only for the gentry.’

  ‘It’s a huge big door,’ I said. ‘Are the gentry very tall?’

  I could see by his face that was a stupid question, but he didn’t laugh at me. He pushed the door so it opened a little bit.

  ‘Look inside,’ he said.

  I peeped through the door and saw a big space, with another huge wooden door opposite. On the right were six steps up to another smaller set of doors.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘Why are there so many doors? Why do some of them look as if they were made for giants?’

  ‘This is called a porte cochere,’ he said. ‘When a carriage or a motor car comes, it drives right through the first big door, so when the people get out they’re not blown away with the wind and the rain. The passengers go up those steps into the house, and the vehicle drives out the other side.’

  ‘It’s so fancy,’ I said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in all my life. But if I can’t go through there, how do I get inside the house?’

  ‘You go in by the servants’ tunnel.’

  ‘A tunnel especially for servants!’

  ‘It’s not so special. It’s so the gentry won’t have to look at the likes of us coming and going.’

  That sounded very strange to me. Why wouldn’t the gentry want to see me and Albert? I was in my Sunday best and his suit was very smart. I didn’t want him to think me stupid, though, so I didn’t ask any more questions.

  I looked around, but I couldn’t see any sign of a tunnel. Albert was a kind man, so he walked around the house with me, and showed me the entrance to a long, dark passageway.

  ‘Off you go,’ he said. ‘You’ll end up in the courtyard. Just knock on the first door on your left, and one of the servants will let you in.’

  Chapter Four

  I knocked quietly, and when nothing happened, I knocked again, this time a little louder. After a minute, the door opened and in front of me stood a red-headed girl of about my age. She was wearing a white apron over a stiff black dress and a funny white cap. She had a face on her that would turn milk sour.

  ‘Well?’ she said, folding her arms and staring at me. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’m the new housemaid.’

  ‘That would be under housemaid,’ she said. ‘You’d better follow me.’

  I wasn’t very happy about following this grumpy creature, but I didn’t feel like arguing with her either, so I trailed along a corridor after her until she stopped outside a black door.

  ‘Wait here for Mrs Bailey, the housekeeper,’ she said, and then she knocked once on the door and flounced off the way we had come.

  By now my feet were killing me, and the sand from the beach was irritating my blisters. There was a chair next to me, but I didn’t dare to sit down. I didn’t dare to do anything but stand up straight, and try not to look as if I were about to faint away from hunger, tiredness and fear.

  ‘Come.’

  It was a woman’s voice from inside the door. Was she talking to me? Or was she calling to her pet dog? I hopped up and down on my sore feet, trying to decide what to do, when the voice came again, louder and a bit impatient-sounding, ‘Come!’

  I opened the door and took a single step inside. It was a big bright room, and I could see a woman sitting behind a desk. She smiled at me, and once again I could feel the tears coming. Why did nice people make me cry? I realised I had no one to ask about this, and that made me want to cry even more.

  ‘You must be Lily.’

  I nodded, too afraid to speak.

  ‘I’m Mrs Bailey,’ she said. ‘You are wel
come to Lissadell. If you work hard here, you will get along very well – and you won’t have to be an under housemaid forever, you know.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bailey.’ I wasn’t looking forward to being an under housemaid so it was good to know it wasn’t a life sentence. I wondered what else I could be, but didn’t dare to ask. What would she say if I told her that I really wanted to be a teacher?

  Mrs Bailey took a big book from a shelf, and turned to a new page. Then she wrote down my name and my address and my date of birth. She asked me if I could read and write, and I told her I could. Then she asked me what sewing I could do, and I proudly told her all the things Miss O’Brien had taught me. When I told her I was allowed to sew on material instead of newspaper, she laughed, and I felt a bit stupid. I suppose rich people like her never have to sew on newspaper.

  When she was finished writing, Mrs Bailey rang a bell, and a minute later the door opened and another maid came in. This girl was dark-haired and pretty and she had a lovely friendly smile.

  ‘Isabelle, please take Lily to her room and help her get settled.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bailey,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘Come along, Lily.’

  I followed her along a corridor, past rooms packed with bottles and jars and all kinds of food. One room had shelves and shelves all full of fine china. There was a smell of freshly baked bread that made me feel weak. What I wouldn’t give for a warm crust with a scrape of creamy butter!

  At the very end of the corridor, Isabelle opened a door.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said, stepping inside. ‘Home sweet home.’

  It was a lovely room, with a window at one end, and a small, metal-framed bed against each of the side walls. In a corner there was a narrow press, and near the door was a real fireplace.

  ‘You’ll be sharing of course,’ said Isabelle. ‘Everyone shares except for the housekeeper and the butler.’

  ‘How many to each bed?’ I asked, thinking if it were more than three it might be a bit of a squash.

  Isabelle laughed. ‘Oh, you are funny,’ she said. ‘You share the room, but the bed is your own.’

  ‘I was only joking,’ I lied. I remembered Mam’s warning, and felt bad. Isabelle thought I was being skittish, even when I was being perfectly serious. I hoped I wasn’t going to get a bad name, just because everything was so new to me.

  Then I noticed that there was a small locker next to each bed.

  ‘And I have a locker all to myself too! Do you think I could save up for a candle, and then I could read at night time?’

  ‘No need,’ said Isabelle pointing to the wall over the fireplace. ‘Lissadell is very modern. There’s a gas light in every single room.’

  I’d never heard of such a thing, but didn’t want to say it.

  ‘This is your bed,’ said Isabelle, pointing to the left. ‘And your uniform is all ready in the press.’

  Suddenly I felt very lost and lonely. I sat on my bed and Isabelle sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. ‘I know everything is strange at first,’ she said. ‘But you’ll soon get used to it.’

  She was being kind, but it wasn’t helping very much. I missed Mam and Rose and Hanora. I missed my home and my brothers and sisters. Everything was too different and too new.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been in a fine house like this before. It’s so big, I’m afraid I’ll get lost and never be seen again.’

  Isabelle laughed. ‘Trust me – everyone feels like that in the beginning. After a few days you’ll be grand.’

  ‘And I don’t know what to say to all these fancy people.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. You don’t say anything to them unless they speak to you first – and usually they only say “good morning”or “good evening” and you say the same and then you go on your way. They don’t want to be your friend or anything like that.’

  ‘You make it sound easy – but I’m still scared.’

  ‘You don’t have to be scared. We’re lucky to be working here – the Gore-Booths treat their servants well – not like some I’ve heard of. They are good people – and always have been.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My daddy told me that way back in the famine times, some landlords did terrible things, but the Gore-Booths were kind, and helped to feed the starving people.’

  I was glad to hear that my employers were kind, but I was still worried.

  ‘And the work,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and I’m afraid of getting things wrong. Will you be able to show me?’

  ‘I’m sorry – I’m not a housemaid. I’m a children’s maid – I help the nurse to look after the little ones. There’s four of them, you know. They’re very sweet, but they keep me on my feet, I can tell you. I’m only down here with you because they are all napping at the moment.’

  ‘So who will show me what to do?’

  ‘Oh … Nellie will help you for the first day or two,’ said Isabelle, not sounding very sure.

  It took me a minute to understand, and then I remembered the grumpy girl who’d opened the door for me.

  ‘Has Nellie got red hair?’ I asked.

  ‘So you met her?’

  I nodded. ‘She wasn’t friendly like you. She was …’

  ‘You’ll get used to Nellie. She’s always in a bad mood on Saturdays.’

  That made me feel better, until Isabelle continued. ‘And every other day too.’

  Then I had a horrible thought. I pointed at the bed next to mine. ‘Do you sleep there?’

  ‘No. I sleep in the night nursery – in case the little ones need me. That bed is …’

  ‘Nellie’s?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. You have to understand, Nellie is …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. Now you need to get into your uniform. I’ll go and call Nellie and she can bring you back to Mrs Bailey when you’re ready. Look sharp – we’ve already spent too much time chattering.’

  She went outside and closed the door. I took off my boots and put on the black shoes that were waiting for me at the foot of my bed. They weren’t new, but someone had polished them until they shone – and they didn’t hurt my blisters too much. I took off my own dress and got the uniform from the press. I’d never had a uniform before and for a moment I felt big and important as I slipped the stiff black dress over my head. I didn’t feel so good when I realised that the apron was a complicated piece of clothing, and I had no idea how to put it on properly. I was still trying to work it out when the door opened with a clatter and Nellie came in.

  ‘Did you touch my things?’ she said, staring at the locker next to her bed. ‘You’re never to touch my things!’

  She was just a girl like me, but I couldn’t help feeling afraid of her. She sounded so angry. She sounded as if she hated me, even though she didn’t know me at all.

  ‘No,’ I said in a shaky voice. ‘I didn’t touch anything, I swear.’

  ‘Well get a move on. Mrs Bailey is waiting.’

  I still hadn’t put on my apron or frilly white cap, and without a mirror, I didn’t know where to start. Nellie grabbed the apron from my hands, put it over my head and tied the bows in the front, pulling them so tight they hurt. Then she took the cap from the bed and rammed it onto my head.

  ‘There,’ she said with a smirk. ‘That’s perfect.’

  I didn’t like the way she said that. Maybe my hair was all sticking out or something, but before I could ask, Nellie was half way down the corridor, and I ran to follow her, afraid of getting lost on my own.

  * * *

  Nellie and I were standing outside Mrs Bailey’s office, with our hands behind our backs. Mrs Bailey looked as if she was about ready to explode.

  ‘Is this meant to be some sort of joke? Because if it is, I have to tell you I am not amused.’

  I hadn’t even said a word, so I knew she couldn’t be blaming me – or could she? She was looking at me as if she wanted to give me a good
shake.

  ‘What is it, Mrs Bailey?’ asked Nellie. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Mrs Bailey looked at Nellie, narrowed her eyes, and then she spoke to me in a softer voice.

  ‘Who told you to do your apron and cap like that?’ she said.

  Behind me, I could feel Nellie’s fingers pinching my arm. She’d been mean and I wanted to get her into trouble, but I guessed that wouldn’t end well for me. So I did something that always worked in the Master’s classroom – I completely avoided Mrs Bailey’s question.

  ‘I’ve never worn an apron like this before,’ I said. ‘Or a cap either. And I didn’t know the right way to put them on.’

  Mrs Bailey took a long look at Nellie, and then she smiled at me. ‘Well, I’m afraid this isn’t the right way. I will show you once, and you will have to do it on your own from now on.’

  She took off my apron, put it back on the other way around and tied the strings behind me. Then she took the cap off my head, turned it right way out, and put it gently back in place.

  ‘Do you think you’ll be able to manage that on your own?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bailey,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now, Nellie,’ said Mrs Bailey. ‘Lily is to follow you for the rest of the evening, and watch what you do, and she can start work proper in the morning. And mind you behave yourself. Off you go, the bedroom fires won’t light themselves.’

  I wanted to say that I was hungry, that I hadn’t had any tea before I left home, but I was too shy and too afraid, so I rubbed my tummy to stop it from grumbling and I set off after Nellie.

  * * *

  Nellie stopped at the bottom of a curved staircase.

  ‘After you,’ she said.

  I looked at the stairs twisting up and up, higher and higher. They were so steep, and so scary! The grey stone steps were worn black and shiny in the middle. I wondered how many servants had gone up and down. I wondered how many of them had been afraid, like me.