Quiet reassurance

Lydiatt House
April 11th 1853


I have woken up exhausted from the trials of yesterday. After I took my leave of the woman from the village I went directly to the Post Mistress and asked her to send a message to Horsham that Cook is to be collected immediately in a secure vehicle. I do not think I have the strength to witness her departure, so shall have to comfort myself with the knowledge that I have done all that is in my power to help her. When Cook is safely strapped into her transport and away from Blindingham for sure, I shall send a basket of breads to the woman and her brother to thank them.

As I came back to Lydiatt in the afternoon I could hear strange sounds from somewhere on the upper landing. Having not the slightest interest in what the Cornbench children do to fill their days, I gave it no thought. But I was a little surprised, I must allow, to see Mrs Cornbench come scampering down the stairs, rather in the manner Dauncey uses when I have surprised him in the middle of an afternoon nap. I expect a cat to sleep as often as it can and in as many obscure crannies of the house he can find - so to find that Mrs Cornbench also seems to favour an afternoon rest in the attic (at least I assume that is where she was - the door to that part of the house was swinging open as she descended in a fluster to the hallway) was disconcerting.

I was just about to tell her my tale of Cook and the village woman when Josiah appeared from upstairs. Bless and save the man, he has been wrestling with his grief for days now and is spending a good deal of his time alone. I went to him but he is still so saddened that he could not quite bring himself to kiss me. I rather think his sensibilities are such that he is disinclined to be affectionate towards me in front of our hosts - Mrs Cornbench was close by, waiting to offer us tea I expect. Josiah is a proud and thoughtful man, indeed. After spending my day in the company of such poor and crazed folk, I am delighted simply to be in his presence. I do not need physical manifestations of my husband's love for me. The expression on Mrs Cornbench's face as all three of us were gathered in the hall was sufficient proof of the regard in which I am held by him.

Back to Bedlam

Lydiatt House
April 10th 1853


It was Cook! Today has been one of such emotion and upheaval I can hardly sort my head from my heart - oh, the relief at seeing her, and the fear of what is to become of her!

I walked from Lydiatt down to the village as slowly as I could this morning. In truth I did not want to find the cottage, or the couple, or Cook. I took rest on a bench near the Inn, before climbing the hill to St Beverel's but after some minutes of gathering my breath and my strength I could find no further reason to delay.

The cottage was small but well looked after and as I approached I could see a woman in the garden. I hid for a while behind some hedging but began to feel too silly so I coughed a little and made as if to clear some mud from my shoe. The woman noticed me and called out,

"Good morning, Madam. Are you quite well? Do you need some help?"

I fiddled a moment longer with my shoe and then answered her.

"I do indeed need help and am grateful for your kindness."

"Blindingham is a friendly place, Madam. We will always go to the aid of a soul in need, any one of us in the village." She smiled at me and opened her garden gate to welcome me in. I ignored her shameful misrepresentation of the leaden boobies she lives amongst and went straight to the reason for my visit.

"I know the village well, thank you," I said, "I am the mistress of Blindingham Hall. I am Mrs Josiah Hatherwick."

The woman looked at me as though I had declared myself to be Queen Victoria herself. She rushed to bring me to a seat and produced a glass of lemon water from a jug on the bench beside me.

"You are Mrs Hatherwick?" she whispered after some time. "You are the poor lady whose house burnt down? Oh my dear Lady you must be beside yourself with worry. You are very welcome here, please be assured of that."

"Actually, the Hall has not been entirely destroyed," I told her, "Some damage was sustained to the West Wing and the Orangery, but I am confident that we shall be able to restore and refurbish it before long. I have had some very exciting ideas for new furnishings and will soon be instructing furniture makers and decorators. I want to create the feel of Osborne House whilst retaining the essence of the Hall as a country residence. There are some divine new upholstery fabrics in the London shops which I am sure would not be out of place down here."

The woman listened to me with a look of comfort and a little confusion on her face. She did not answer.

"Of course, that is not why I have come to seek you out this morning. I am trying to find our Cook. She was in the Hall when the fire broke out and none of us has has seen her since. I have been given to understand she may have taken sanctuary with you."

Another few moments passed before the woman spoke to me.

"My brother was fortunate enough to find a poor, distressed lady walking the road to Lydiatt in obvious disarray a week or so ago. She was confused and could not tell him her name. She said very little, in fact, except to keep worrying that supper was going to be late because she could not find the kitchen. John could not leave her to carry on walking the streets in that condition."

"Indeed not," I agreed, although I think had I been the one who found Cook rambling about supper in her undergarments I should have gladly left her to it.

"We took the lady in and have been caring for her but I must confess I am not best placed to provide the help she needs. Keeping her nourished and safe has left me little time for anything else." She poured me another measure of lemon water as she spoke. "Can I ask, have you come to take her home?"

"Alas, I have not," I told her, "My husband and I are depending on the kindness of our neighbours until the Hall is restored. I could not take her back there with me at all."

"I see - yes. I should have deduced that for myself." She sounded weary, such that I quite wanted to hug her for her kindness towards Cook. I did not, of course.

We spoke for a few mintes more and then she asked if I would like to see Cook, who was upstairs resting. I accompanied her into the cottage with some trepidation, I admit.

Cook was a sorry sight. She was lying in a tiny bed with her hair all matted and crazy around her face. She was snoring a little and wheezing as she slept. As I watched her I could of think of nothing so much as the bellows the staff use to draw the fires in London. They make a similar sound and are as fragile. I left the room quickly for fear of waking her up.

The woman was waiting for me at the foot of her staircase. "My brother and I can not care for her here, Mrs Hatherwick," she said, "even though we are good Christians who know our duty. I am truly saddened at this lady's plight, but what is to be done? She is not to be left unattended for more than a minute. I am frightened of what she might do."

I knew at once that she was genuinely concerned for Cook's safety and for her own. It is a marvel her tiny cottage had housed Cook for this long and remained intact. I had to make a responsible decision, as Cook's former employer and as this woman's superior.

"Please do not worry," I said to her," I shall send for a carriage from Horsham. She must return there. I know of no other action for the best. I will go straight now to the Post Office and send word to the sanitorium."

The woman was shocked at my resolve.

"Horsham? Really?" she said. I nodded, holding my face in a grave and responsible expression.

"Horsham," she repeated. "That poor, poor soul."

Decision

Lydiatt House
April 9th 1853


Josiah spent the whole night in the dressing room. Mrs Cornbench had been thoughtful enough to set up a day bed in there for him while he has been staying here to give instructions as to what should be done at the Hall. The rooms set aside for our use (we must find a way to make adequate recompense to the woman as soon as we are free of this place) are nice enough, but Josiah is being too polite to request a fire or anything much in the way of help from the servants. He has been sleeping on the day bed in preference to the one in 'our' room. Last night I sat outside his door for hours hoping he would need me to comfort him, but he did not call upon me. I can only guess at the anguish he feels at the death of his friend.

Today I am to visit the cottage near St Beverel's to see if Cook is indeed there. I should be keen to find her alive after all these weeks but in truth I can not bring myself to care overmuch. I am being dutiful as a good employer should be, not excited as a friend. After all, if it is her, what is to be done with her? She may have been the cause of the fire - I rather fear she shall not be welcome at the Hall in future. I will certainly not bring her to London - she would cause havoc in the streets. She would not cut such an unusual figure amongst the residents of Bayswater, it must be acknowledged, but I find myself unwilling to take on the responsibility of keeping her safe for much longer.

No, if Cook is upstairs in that cottage she can stay there. And if they do not wish to deal with her ravings she must go back to Horsham.

Shoot the messenger

Lydiatt House
April 8th 1853

I am quite beside myself and have not the remotest notion of what to do!

This morning, as I made ready to leave for Blindingham, Villiers appeared with a smirk on his face and a hand-delivered note on the salver. The note, he said, had been pushed through the letterbox at break of day and was found lying on the doormat as innocently as you please. I saw at once that it was addressed to Josiah, in the handwriting of an uneducated person with the word 'Urgent' scrawled across the top of the envelope. Fearing it might be something to do with one of Josiah's business interests, or perhaps some underhand communication from an employee, I decided immediately to pack the note in with my belongings and set off.

Villiers saw me place the note in my pocketbook and gave one of his little squeaks. I know that sound to mean that he has something to say to me but wishes me to invite him to speak, rather than wait for an unsolicited approach. I also know that this is a device by which he can impart unwelcome information and blame me for requesting it. Really, he is as devious as a woman at times.

"Villiers," I ventured, "Is there anything you wish to say to me?"

"I am afraid there is, ma'am, yes." He looked at me gravely, as one who is carrying bad news might. "I think ma'am may be interested to know the sender of this note before it is transported to Blindingham."

I was curious, of course, but determined to observe the conventions of written communication in a civilised society. They have been arrived at through gentleman's agreement and there is as yet no law against opening envelopes addressed to others, even one's own relatives. But that should not mean I am at liberty to pry where I am clearly not included - where would society rest if we all did just as we wished, even in moments of high passion?

"I expect I shall discover the identity of the sender as soon as the note has reached its rightful destination, Villiers," I said, as coolly as I could. "The note is meant for Mr Hatherwick, not myself."

"Indeed it is, Ma'am. I am sorry to have suggested otherwise. I am sure she will not be expecting you to read the note before Mr Hatherwick does." Villiers then dashed out of the room and hurried as quickly as propriety would allow down the stairs and into the servants' kitchen.

She? What She? Did Villiers mean that the note was delivered by a woman? A woman known to me?

I busied myself with my gloves and twittered about with Dauncey whilst the maid laced my boots and called for the carriage. I watched the driver load my luggage on board, then climbed inside and instructed him to begin the journey. The note was in my pocketbook, on the seat beside me.

I glanced up at the house as we left and saw Villiers and the maid standing at the top of the street steps, laughing.

I took out the note and stared at the writing. It did indeed seem familiar. It wasn't Boo's writing else I would have recognised it straight away, and besides she has no call to write to Josiah without my knowledge.

A moment later, as the carriage struck a particularly poor section of road, my heart leapt straight out of my chest and sat beating loudly in my mouth. I remembered where I had seen that writing before.

The ill-formed letters, the poor arrangement of the words and the smudging of the ink all combined to bring me to a quite shocking conclusion.

The note had been sent by The Girl!

Why would she write to him? What could possibly be so important that she, a servant, should take it upon herself to make direct communication in writing to her previous employer? Why could not her master, Josiah's friend, have written?

It was at that moment the full horror struck me. The note and the manner of its delivery could only mean one thing.

I was to carry to Josiah the news that his friend and associate had died.

I have had a number of fretful journeys to Blindingham of late, but none so worrisome as this one. My poor husband was to receive sad news of the death of his friend and I was to be the bearer. I spent the whole time thinking how best I could bring cheer to him, such that by the time I alighted at the Cornbench's house (how tiresome that we should still have to accept their thin, grey hospitality) I was exhausted.

Josiah walked out to greet me and all my plans for a loving reunion were forgotten. I took his hand, kissed it, and gave him The Girl's note. His face drained of all its colour the moment he saw it - his powers of mental alertness are much more finely honed than mine and he must have deduced immediately what the envelope contained. He took it from me and opened it as he walked away towards the garden. I watched as he read it. My poor, poor darling, I could see he was much affected by its contents.

He has been alone in the dressing room for four hours now, and will not admit me into his company. All I can do is wait outside and listen as he suffers. I wish he would call me to comfort him, I could ease his torment I know I could.

Oh, I cannot bear this a moment longer! My husband is in pain and I cannot help him!

City Break

April 7th 1853
Sydney Walk

I have spent the most delightful day with Dauncey, who asks nothing of me but that I should love him. I prepared Villiers for my departure - really, it is hardly worth our having come to London this Winter. We have been more at Blindingham than anywhere else. I am determined that Josiah and I shall visit Clacton again, or perhaps Brightlingsea. We have been too much overrun with troubles of late and we are in need of a little relaxation. There is precious little of that to be had in Bayswater, I am sorry to note. I shall plan a little trip for when Josiah and I are both in London.

I am setting off at first light in the morning, so must retire now and will fall asleep telling Dauncey of my plans. He is bound to approve of them - he is such a comfort to me!

The Sound of Breaking Glass

April 5th 1853
Sydney Walk

I have learned a little of Mrs Doughty's maternal leanings from Villiers. A short time before I sent him and LB to stay with her she had fallen foul of a rotten cold. I was swift in my dispatch of them, as anyone with an inferno raging in their home would be - and had not thought to enquire as to her health at this time. Indeed I had trusted to fortune that I could not be so unlucky as to have two sick friends as well as a burning house. I was wrong.

When Villiers entered her home with the boy, Mrs Doughty gave my letter of explanation the briefest of readings and went directly to bed for a week. Villiers says she instructed her servants to be welcoming and courteous but it was soon evident that domesticity and child welfare were alien to them all. There was no fire laid in LB's room, no playthings, very little food save for a kind of broth Mrs Doughty favoured when ill and no-one to give him his bath or read to him. I had expected Villiers to undertake such duties, I suppose, but it seems he was keen not to change his nocturnal arrangements - which, when I was there to mother the poor child, were not in jeopardy. Mrs Doughty keeps unusual hours, I now know, and the whole household was silent from seven o'clock in the evening til daybreak.

So LB was bored and not a little frightened I imagine. At least I believe that to be the reasoning behind his behaviour. Poor lamb, who could blame him for being so terrified of a cold, quiet house when he was used to Boo's chatter and my ministrations. The boy needed to hear noise and life going on around him.

And it is utter folly to place glass ornaments on an upstairs landing anyway, everybody must know that.

Mrs Doughty tired of LB's boyish exuberance after the third day, Villiers tells me, by which time only the Waterford was left intact. She whisked him by hansom cab back to Boo's house - whereupon Boo was heard to blame me - in my absence - for the cuts on his face! The injustice of it.

I have decided to go to Blindingham and find this mysterious set of siblings who have secreted Cook away. I shall find out for myself whether they are heroes or scoundrels. If they are village bred it is sure to be the latter, mark my words.

Reward

Sydney Walk
Monday April 3rd 1853

I am astounded that I have not received so much as a thank you from Boo for looking after her precious child. Not a note, nor any flowers despite my having fed and coddled him all the while she was on her sick bed. She is in severe danger of my never speaking to her again. Indeed were it not for the boy himself and the Press I would be glad to cut her out of my life completely. I shall speak to Mrs Doughty to find out what happened while I was away to make Boo take LB back.

Josiah has sent word that a man from the village is claiming that he has seen Cook. He went to the Hall as Josiah was walking over the Orangery - what there is of it - with a surveyor and told him that he had found Cook in a distressed condition, walking half dressed along the lane towards Lydiatt. He recognised her, he said, from when he used to visit the hall with his father to deliver coal. Apparently she is now staying with this man and his sister in a cottage near St Beverel's Chapel.

I read Josiah's note with a lightening heart until I reached the final part. It seems the man will not take Josiah to see Cook, he says she is too frail, but has asked for funds with which to feed and clothe her. Funds indeed! Josiah gave him a few shillings - he is a soft hearted bear and I love him for it - but said he would give no more til he has seen Cook with his own eyes. He is a wise man, too, I am glad to know.

Oh, how weary I am of it all! I am surrounded by self serving ingrates when all I have tried to do is provide succour. I should travel back to Blindingham to visit this sister and find Cook - but I am loth to put myself out for anyone any more. I have had my fill of people taking advantage of my good nature.

Continued absence

Sunday April 2nd 1853
Sydney Walk

I am astounded at Boo's ingratitude! I sent word to Mrs Doughty that I am back in London and more than ready to welcome LB back into my household. After an hour, which I spent plumping his pillows, arranging his nightgown and telling Dauncey about my adventures at Blindingham, the servant came back without him. Instead of carrying that darling child up to my room, he handed me a note which I could barely read, so blinded was I by tears of bitter disappointment.

It appears that Boo has rallied such that she is able to have her son with her after all. All my little hopes and dreams of skipping with him in the park tomorrow have been dashed on the rocks of Boo's recovery. I am angry beyond words and only glad that Josiah is not here to see my fury.

Villiers has returned from Mrs Doughty's and is sweeping about downstairs making sure the staff have kept up his standards in his absence. But I must not confide my feelings in him. He is a servant and a man - both those attributes rob him of the understanding I require.

I shall persuade Dauncey to sleep with me tonight. Oh, that selfish, selfish woman!

Happy returns

Sydney Walk
March 30th 1853

My Dearest Boo

I do hope you are feeling better, my darling friend. When Mrs Doughty wrote to me in Blindingham with news of LB and Villiers I resolved to come back to London straight away. I could not bear to be apart from them - and by association yourself - a minute longer. I am blessed with a doting husband, as you know, and when he found me in fits of weeping at the thought of staying away another night he called a carriage for me immediately. He remains in Blindingham, staying with the Cornbenches (who are a drab pair with clingy, grey children but who are at the very least not from the village) He is overseeing the structural security of the Hall and planning to drain the lake.

But what of it, I am here! Back in Bayswater ready to welcome LB to his temporary but very loving home. I think Mrs Doughty was happy to help for a while but she is not accustomed to the sounds and smells of an occupied household - not as you and I are - and I will wager that Villiers and she did not see eye to eye. Her account of his nighttime habits have proved to me that she is not as tolerant a woman as she might appear in daylight.

But that is of no matter now. I pray for your speedy recovery, Boo! Not only so that you can have your boy back in your arms - I need your worldly advice in furnishings and fashionable decor. I have a project which I cannot wait to discuss with you.

I shall call as soon as you are well enough,

Yrs

Effie x

Neighbourly relations

Lydiatt House
March 22nd 1853

I have loved my home for so long that I have been quite blind to the parlous stupidity of its village folk. This waiting for news of Cook is so tiresome that I find I no longer care overmuch whether she is alive or dead - she is sure to be one or the other. I have spent more time than I care to contemplate wandering the village lanes in search of her. At the start I was alive with eager hope that she would come walking around the next corner, scolding me for wearing unsuitable boots as she used to do. I am only slightly sorry to confess that now I would be happy for a glimpse of her under a bush or floating in Bartle Pond - anything that would bring an end to this uncertainty.

I visit Mrs Everdown in the Forester's Arms every morning to see if she has had word, but she is becoming increasingly vague as her vigil there goes on. When all this is over I shall insist that Josiah does not employ her as housekeeper of the rebuilt Hall - she is unlikely to appreciate the sophisticated new surroundings I am planning. She is too much of a villager for us after all, and resembles her bovine daughter more closely than I had imagined.

The people in Blindingham are well meaning enough, I suppose but oh! they are so dense and harsh of feature. There is not one of them without a nose like a pineapple. Everywhere I go I see the same thick set brows and square jaws looking back at me - I feel as if I have stumbled univited upon a family gathering. I wonder I had not noticed before how dim and pockmarked they all are.

If cook does not appear soon - quick or dead - I shall return to civilisation and be thankful that I do not have to conduct my business in the sawdust and smoke of a village hostelry. The air in the streets of Bayswater is a good deal fresher, I will swear to it.

Silver Lining

Lydiatt House
March 21st 1853


At last we have had some good news. Josiah has had word from London - we are to be reimbursed for every penny we spend on restoring the Hall! What a clever husband I have. He is such a pioneer in business and financial matters and I am very fortunate to have him to look after me so well - it pains me that Papa does not see Josiah as I do. I am even more determined to get back to London now to begin choosing new furnishings. I shall fashion the East Wing in the style our dear Queen has chosen for Osborne House, I think. I do not propose to bother Josiah much with the details but I shall deliver him the most fashionable country residence in all England to show him how proud I am of his business dealings. And I shall no longer be obliged to accept Mrs Cornbench's offer of her cast off sticks - thank the Lord for Josiah and for the Prudential Insurance Company!

Unbearable Darkness

Lydiatt House
March 19th 1853


I cannot bear to stay here another day. Mrs Cornbench seems so delighted to be able to provide respite and succour to 'our poor, poor neighbours' that I could almost fancy she set the Hall alight herself.

Happily, I may not have to endure her ministrations for much longer. Josiah is anxious to get back to London and arrange our finances so that we can begin to effect the restoration. I have told him I want the finest materials and the best builders working on my home - I was grateful that the men in the village came to save the Hall for us but I hardly think them skilfull enough to rebuild it!

Having suffered such a terrible shock, I find this house far too depressing to my spirits. I need light and fine things around me, but the Cornbenches have arranged this house as though they have taken a vow of self denial. There is scant furniture to speak of and what there is is dark and simple. There are a few pieces which I myself would have chosen - indeed I am sure that we have some very similar at the Hall (if they have been spared from the fire) - but mostly it is small and uncomfortable. I do not know where the Cornbenches came from originally, but very little in this house has been passed down, I can tell.

I am desperate to see LB again - I even miss Villiers, who would be discreet but just as horrified as I am by the way the Cornbenches live. (I may inadvertently pack a pillowcase in my luggage just to watch him squeal at its ordinariness. Has she some medical condition that prevents her from having silk next to her skin?) But we should not leave here until we have some notion of Cook's whereabouts, I suppose. Jennet and a couple of the village boys have searched the lake as well as they can and Mrs Everdown has spent a great deal of time waiting for her to arrive at the Inn, but there has been no sign. I confess the concern I have for her welfare wanes with every bowl of lukewarm broth and stale biscuits I am forced to eat at the Cornbenchs' table. Their meals are as drab as their curtains - at least we have the excuse that our Cook is insane.

Every hour without news is like a lifetime. I must go to London soon, I simply must.

Remains of the Day

Lydiatt House
March 16th 1853


Dearest Mrs Doughty

I can hardly write, I am so shaken by what I have seen. I am compelled to make contact with you since you are so generously caring for LB, but I fear I will make little sense in this letter. Please grant forbearance - what you are about to read will no doubt be an outward manifestation of the turmoil I find myself in.

I was happily sitting in Sydney Walk just a few short days ago - and yet it seems a lifetime away in truth - when a messenger arrived at our door with an urgent missive from Mrs Cornbench, our neighbour back in the village. I confess I have found her nothing short of meddlesome in the past so I was not inclined to read her letter at first, but the man was insistent that Josiah should be fetched fom his work and should read the message forthwith. Oh, Mrs Doughty - the news it contained, I can barely bring myself to put in words...

Blindingham Hall, my beautiful home, has been burned beyond all recognition - and we fear that Cook has perished in the flames!

It seems that Jennet awoke one night to see the East wing ablaze. He rode straight into the village and managed to raise a goodly crowd of local men to come back with him. How lucky we are to have such standing with our neighbours that they will leave their beds to help us. Jennet arranged a string of them to pass buckets of water from our lake up to the house while he himself went inside to find Mrs Everdown and the staff. I shall make sure he is well compensated for his trouble when we are more settled - without his brave actions we should surely be homeless and without a servant to our names.

By the time Josiah and I reached home - after perhaps the most terrifying journey anyone could be expected to undertake - we happened upon the sorriest sight. The whole of the East Wing has crumbled, the Orangery is in tatters and the lawns are blackened, all shrubbery destroyed. The main Hall and West End are - by the mercy of God - intact and Jennet's lodge, being some distance from the hall itself, has been spared. We cannot spend a night in the Hall, though, until all burning ashes are extinguished and the roof has been made safe. Josiah is calculating the cost of all this as I sit here describing it - he is in a state of utter devastation, poor man.

Oh, Mrs Everdown and the undermaids are safe, but there is no sign of Cook! Her rooms were in the East Wing - did she set herself ablaze in a fit of madness? By mistake? Perhaps she thought she was back in the kitchens and was starting to prepare Supper. It is all the most dreadful mess.

I shall write more when we have found her, or at least any sign that she was there - if I make myself clear. I cannot bear to contemplate what may have happened to her. If she was not consumed in the fire - where is she?

We are staying with the Cornbenches for the present - it is strangely comforting since much of their furniture reminds me of home. I do believe I detect a little satisfaction on that woman's face but since I am at her mercy I must remain silent, for now.

Give LB a kiss from me and tell Villiers that Jennet asked after him,

Yrs

Effie H

Trouble at the Hall

Sydney Walk
March 10th 1853

My Dear Mrs Doughty

We have had the most dreadful news from home. Josiah and I must return immediately to Blindingham for I do not know how long and we cannot take Boo's boy with us. I am sending him to you in the company of our manservant Villiers and pray that you can house them both until we are back inLondon.

I am beside myself with worry, but I am sure that you will do Boo and myself this kindness - please be assured that I will be in touch again as soon as I am able. I cannot thank you enough for reading this letter in what I am confident will be a state of calm capability and compassion.

Do not be concerned about how to entertain the child - Villiers and he get along delightfully and will hardly be in your way at all. You may wish to let Boo know that he is with you and that I shall reimburse you for any expenditure you incur in the feeding of them both.

I must leave off now,

Yours in gratitude

Effie H.

Exuberance

Sydney Walk
March 8th 1853

Josiah is still reluctant to spend time with LB, but I have seen him standing over his cot when he is asleep and I know that he is as smitten with him as I am. When I heard him singing so softly last night - a tune I know his father sang to him - I could have wept with joy. My darling husband is fond of children after all and there is hope for us yet!

Mrs Doughty has been wonderful. She is managing all the business of the Press without Boo or myself to help her. Well, I have suggested that she contact Papa to see if he could offer his experience to the girls in some way and I believe he is often to be found there, no matter what time of day or night. I am glad that he has found a channel for his energies and that both he and the press will benefit from that connection, so I suppose I have still been of use to them despite my joyful incarceration in Sydney Walk.

This afternoon, LB was running happily around the hallway when he inadvertently trod on Villiers' foot. The pair of them fell to such a peal of yelping that I had to hold tight to Dauncey to stop him jumping from the nearest window! Villiers hopped about the hall for a good five minutes, while LB stood against the front door calling for his mother, his nurse and, eventually, me.

Villiers is now in the kitchen with his foot in a bowl of warmed milk and a flannel across his brow. He does not say so, but I can tell that he believes LB hurt him with malicious intent, although the boy is adamant that he did not see Villiers beside him. I told Villiers that, if were indeed a deliberate act, a child cannot be taken from his home and everything he knows without showing some degree of wilfulness, but he is an old-fashioned sort in many ways and I am sure he is praying for Boo's speedy recovery.Oh, the trials of parenthood and staff management!

LB is in his nightgown, playing in my room and is a great deal more settled. I am sure that he, too is hoping to hear very soon that Boo has been restored to good health. It is a guilty admission on my part to acknowledge that I am not.

Nothing left

Sydney Walk
March 3rd 1853

I am far too exhausted to write my journal these days. LB is only a small child, and bless his heart he is asleep for twelve hours in every day, but he fills the other twelve with such liveliness and so many demands that I am quite spent once he is in his cot in the evenings.

Striking resemblance

Sydney Walk February 27th 1853

I always knew I had a great capacity for maternal love and I will be eternally grateful to LB for allowing me to experience it - even if only for a short while. He is a delightful child and I will smother him with kisses until he has to leave us. I am quite amazed by his constant inquisitiveness. Whenever the maid or I have our backs turned he is inside a cupboard, under a bed or struggling to open a window - on a never ending quest for enlightenment, I suppose.

Sadly, Josiah has been unusually tested with his business deals at the moment and has not been able to spend much time at home with us. I hope we can have LB for a good while yet - although I know that means Boo would still be stricken in her pregnancy, poor goose - because I know Josiah will adore him in an instant. He was not happy when I announced LB's arrival but he respects my wish to do Boo this service and I am sure that when he bounces the boy on his knee for the first time he will melt as quickly as I have done. This will perhaps serve better than the occasional picnic as a ruse to turn Josiah and I into proper parents....

Oh, the boy is wondrous! He reminds me so much of Josiah as he plays with wooden bricks and demands biscuits from anyone who passes. He has a quizzical look when thwarted which recalls Josiah exactly, and when he is happy he makes a little barking sound which is Josiah to the core. It is enough to make me wonder which is the right way round - do men become fully matured by the age of three, or do boy children grow taller but never any wiser? The two states are almost indistinguishable, whether three or thirty three. I may turn my hand to a scientific study of the development of our species, since I know of none in existence.

Temporary care

Sydney Walk
February 24th 1853

We have him! Little Bradstone is in the next room as I write, snoring and snuffling as if he'd lived here all his life! I am so excited I can hardly believe it.

I arrived in the carriage at Boo's and ran up her steps with no thought of what I was about to say. When her girl opened the door I went straight in and made to go up to see Boo. I was a little overwrought, I must confess, and began calling for Boo the moment I set foot on her staircase. An enormous woman in a nurse's uniform came sweeping onto the landing to shush me, but I was absolutely set on my plan.

"I am here to collect Little Bradstone and take care of him until his mother is well enough to resume her position," I said, "And I will not hear of any other course of action!"

The nurse stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at me. She was clearly doing her best to make a speedy assessment of my mental state and my maternal capabilities. Perhaps she was as concerned as I about Boo's mother-in-law's influence on the boy.

"I fear poor Mrs Pitt will be confined to her bed for some months to come. Pray tell me who you are and what exactly your intentions may be. She is not to be disturbed on any account but if I find that you may be able to help her by setting her mind to rest about the child, I shall go to speak with her. Well?"

I stood at the stairfoot and pronounced myself to be the best friend Boo had in the world. I said I was wealthy and loving enough to look after Boo's son as if he were my own and that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to help Boo in her hour of need. I said I could not rest knowing that there was a little boy in want of a mother's arms. I told her I had rooms until the Spring and a country house capable of housing forty such children, if they needed it.

"Stop!" she whispered, holding her large hand up to cover my face from her view. "What is your name, good lady?"


And that was all, in truth. She spent a moment or two in Boo's room and then instructed the girl to go directly and bring LB back from his Grandmother's house. I waited in Boo's hallway, seeing no purpose in accompanying the girl. And we were snug here at Sydney Walk within the hour!

Josiah stayed out of sight when I brought LB in. Villiers gave a little scream, which I took to be one of welcome, and then he took the boy from me and carried him upstairs to my bedchamber, where I had instructed him to place a small bed next to ours. LB was laid into it and, after a brief bout of whimpering, which we dealt with by the application of warm milk, he fell soundly to sleep. I felt great pride in us all that we could do such a kindness for our friends.

I was so happy that I ignored the letter from meddling Mrs Cornbench. Silly, interfering old witch.

No-one at home

Lydiatt House


My Dear Mrs Hatherwick

I hope this letter finds you in good health and that your sojourn in London continues to keep you and Mr Hatherwick suitably entertained.

This is the briefest of notes to reassure you that all appears well at Blindingham. I say 'appears' since I have not in truth gained access to the Hall on either of my last two visits there. But I am sure that were there to be any cause for concern, your Mrs Everdown would have alerted us. I made sure when I last saw her, a good month ago now, that she knew how to reach us and that she was not to suffer a moment's concern when Mr Cornbench and I are so close by and so willing to offer our support. I have heard of no such worries and have had no requests for help, so am happy to conclude that all is satisfactory.

What a capable woman she must be to look after the Hall as well your old nurse without needing a soul to share her days with. She can be forgiven for allowing the grounds to become a little unkempt while your gardener is away visiting relatives, which I presume is the reason for my not seeing him for a while. It is winter and, if a gardener can be spared at all, he is best released in February, I am sure.

Having dispensed my neighbourly duties, a task that I am more than happy to undertake, I shall leave you to enjoy your metropolitan distractions. Be reassured that I will call at Blindingham again soon and am confident I will find someone at home then.

Yours

Lorelei Cornbench

Determination

Sydney Walk
February 20th 1853


I told Josiah of my plan as soon as he had breakfasted and was settling down to his newspaper and his morning cup of heated water with lemon - he is allowed nothing stronger til his gout is fully dispersed. I was a little nervous of his reaction so just took a large breath and said outright that I was sending a carriage to bring Little Bradstone to Sydney Walk. He yelped a little then gave a short cough - a sign that his foot is still quite painful, I expect, or that the lemon had caught him unprepared. He looked at me exactly as if I had aimed a shotgun to him.

"Steady on, Eff," he said, when he could speak, "When was this decided?"

"Yesterday afternoon, when I learned that the poor boy is in the clutches of Mrs Pitt, " I answered. Josiah knows how evil she is and his expression deepened.

"What does Boo say? Does her husband agree? Where shall he sleep - have you thought about this at all, Eff?" Josiah spoke in a tight voice that made me sorry for the pain his gout must cause him, even though it is all his own doing, really.

"Boo will be happy for me to be the boy's saviour, Bradstone will be powerless to argue in the face of such generosity on our part and the boy shall sleep in our room. I have thought about this as much as I need to."

I think being Mrs Doughty's friend has had a beneficial effect on me - I would brook no argument, not even from my own husband!

After that conversation, I instructed Villiers to arrange a carriage to take me first to Boo to tell her of my favour to her and then on to Mrs Pitt's lair. As I left Sydney Walk, the maid was putting an iron over Josiah's newspaper again - it had become quite crumpled during our exchange.

Child Care

Sydney Walk
February 4th 1853


It seems Boo has known all along about Mrs Doughty's domestic situation. What a dark horse she is! I would not have thought her capable of keeping such a secret from me and shall resolve to be more inquiring in future. Still, I am proud to be associated with such a selfless woman and I have much to learn from her, though I do not think I shall ever give up hope of having a baby of my own one day.

Boo is suffering for her love of motherhood, poor thing. She is confined to her bed and is as weak as a kitten. I called to see her but the maid was adamant that she could admit no-one, not even those in the closest circle. Apparently Boo's doctor has said that she must have no excitement of any kind for fear that her heart will be put under too much strain. I asked who was looking after LB and discovered that he has been sent to stay with Bradstone's Mama! I am Boo's best friend in all the world and I know how much she dislikes her husband's mother. She must be lying abed fretting that he will return with a head full of silly nonsense and cruel intentions. That woman could strip the trees of their bark with her vicious tongue - I well remember the afternoon when she told me that I had made a terrible mistake in taking Josiah for my husband. She called him a feckless wastrel and said that I was doomed to a life of loneliness and sorrow. Well, if that isn't proof enough of her twisted grip on reality I do not know what would be. She is quite unsuited to the job of raising a child with sensibilities as fragile as LB's. My blood is rising even as I write!

I shall speak to Josiah in the morning - when his gout has yet to take hold for the day - and tell him we must go to fetch LB and bring him here. What sort of friend would I be if I could not look after a little boy who is missing his mama? I shall set aside one of the upstairs rooms for him and he and I shall play with Dauncey all day long and take trips to the park for fresh air. That is decided then - I shall write to Boo imediately and tell her that we will save her boy from Mrs Pitt's malicious clutches. I am quite excited at the thought that Josiah and I will have a little person to care for - Josiah will be as keen as I am, I know it!

Saintly self denial

Sydney Walk
January 15th 1853


Boo!

I understand that you are not well enough to have visitors at the moment. Indeed I should hate to bring the dangers of the outdoors to your bedside at such a time. But I simply cannot contain myself any longer and decided that the contents of this letter would not be so shocking if delivered in writing, not in person. Please make sure that you are sitting down for the rest of this letter, if you are not already, and promise me you will not alarm Little Bradstone by crying out in amazement when you hear my news.

Boo - Mrs Doughty is not, nor has she ever been, married!

What do you make of that?

I had tea with her yesterday afternoon and after a long discussion about how I might fill your shoes at the Press while you are otherwise occupied, I asked her outright. Emboldened by the situation, I enquired about the whereabouts of Mr Doughty. I said I had always wondered where she kept him and thought he must be a remarkable man to allow her such freedom and power in the London business world. This is what she said,

"My dear, any man would need to be truly remarkable to call himself my husband. I have never met one worthy of the title and am not likely to. I use the title of a married woman to deter any approach of a romantic nature from the male of our species."

I was so shocked a little bit of cake fell from my mouth.

"But then do you live alone, Mrs Doughty? You seem too full of life not to share it with a husband. I know I could not endure these long days in London without knowing I had Mr Hatherwick to talk to at night."

" Effie," she said to me "The prospect of having to explain myself to Mr Hatherwick every night is too awful to contemplate." Before more cake could spill onto my skirts, she added "Oh, I do not mean your husband above all others, my dear. Please do not think that. I simply cannot regard any man highly enough to confide my hopes and dreams in him. Now, I must take my leave of you. I have a meeting of the London hospital board to attend."

As she stood up to go, I ventured another question,

"Mrs Doughty, you have so much generosity in your soul. Have you never thought of children?"

She turned back to face me and stifled a little twitch of her mouth, I am sure.

"When I think of children, Effie, they are never my own. I have never imagined myself giving birth to or suckling an infant conceived from the sort of liaison necessary to produce one."

When she saw my still open mouth she softened slightly and said, "I am the sort of woman who is able help many people with my work. That is enough maternity for me, more than enough. I shall no doubt be seeing you again soon at the Press, but for now, farewell." Then she swept out!

Did you know this before, Boo? Why did you not say, if you did? If you were as unaware as I, then I hope I have not caused you undue shock. But goodness me, what a revelation! Mrs Doughty has turned her back on marriage and motherhood all so she can help others in greater need. She is truly deserving of a sainthood, nothing less.

Do write back with yr thoughts, Boo. We are in the presence of greatness!

Yrs

Effx

Nursey wife too

Sydney Walk January 5th 1853

It is bread poultice time again in the Hatherwick household. I am growing weary of Josiah's 'Winter affliction'. He speaks of it in terms which he hopes will make the listener think the gout has been visited upon him, and is not the inevitable consequence of his seasonal excess. I should be pleased that he enjoyed such a convivial time with Papa, I suppose. He does love Papa and there are many wives who could not say the same about their husbands, so I shall content myself with that and pay no heed to his waspishness when the pain shoots through him. Bless him.

I told him of Boo's expected arrival and fancied I saw a cloud pass across his face. I recall that he was less than pleased for her when LB was imminent and he was similarly distant on hearing this news - I do believe he feels my emptiness and wishes me not to be saddened by Boo's burgeoning family when all I have is him. He is remarkably perceptive, my husband, and his reserve can only be borne of concern for my wishes in that direction. That, or the poultice had stiffened and reminded him of his own discomfort.

I have decided to send word to Mrs Doughty and ask her to meet me to discuss our plans for Boo's confinement. As I think of it, I should love to know more about her own domestic affairs. Perhaps a slice or two of cake will loosen her tongue enough for me to ask whether she has anyone to massage her ankles in the Winter.

Birth order

Sydney Walk
January 3rd 1853


Boo is with child again! She sent me the briefest of notes explaining why she had seen so little of me lately. It seems she has been taken quite ill with this child and has been in fear of losing it before its time. Poor, silly thing , she was scared to tell me until the baby was properly established in case I was upset for her. I think she means that I would be upset for myself - I who am in want of such happy news - and she is right, in part. Of course I do not begrudge her a brother or sister for LB. I would not be able to call myself a friend if I did. But I should so love to hold my own child and push it round the park and bathe its knees and sing to it.

Boo asked me to tell Josiah that, God willing, the child will be born in the Spring. Quite why he should care about that I am not sure, but she was anxious for him to know. Perhaps she wishes to prepare him for my wanting to stay in London after we were due to return to Blindingham. I shall be required to do more work for the Press during Boo's confinement. She is a clever old thing, really. When Josiah knows that she will be at her bed, he will not insist that I go home.

Oh, I wish I had Boo's cunning - I envy her that, as well as her nursery.

A quiet Christmas

Sydney Walk
December 20th 1852

This Winter is proving to be much duller than last. I have hardly seen any of my friends and there have been almost no parties, at least not that I have been made aware of. I told Josiah that it must be because we are in rooms people do not wish to visit, but that made him a little cross so I changed the subject. I know he tried his hardest when he comes up to town to choose where we stay for the season, so he must have felt that in speaking ill of his choice I was also speaking ill of him. What a booby I am to have complained so when I am in truth a very lucky woman.

So, I have decided to do away with any hope of hosting a party here and I shall instead make our own family Christmas as cosy as it can be. For dinner this year there will be me, Josiah and poor Papa, who is still a little vague after the assault he suffered in this neighbourhood. He has accepted my invitation to stay for a day or so, but has insisted that he be accompanied from his front door to ours, and back again when he leaves. I said Villiers would be only too pleased to escort him, but he has made his own arrangements it seems. It is as well that he has, for I have resolved to give Villiers some time off to thank him for his solicitous service of late. He, too, has been more solitary than he would like and I think it my duty as a caring employer to allow him his head whilst in London.

Josiah softened somewhat when I apologised for my ingratitude and was almost excited by the prospect of a long evening over brandy and cigars with Papa. He has a proposition to put to him, I am sure of it. I shall keep out of such discussions, since I know Papa is not impressed by Josiah's business ventures. If only I could tell them both that I, little Effie, am the most successful business brain in the family!

I shall ask the cook to prepare some special treats for Dauncey to eat and have found a delightful neck collar for him to wear. I cannot wait to see his little face when I present it to him. Which puts me in mind of the gift I must find for Josiah - I am quite worn out with trying to find something to please him. He is not a man who likes frippery or adornment - except upon his fortunate wife, of course - and he already has a perfectly adequate watch. I am not inspired to think of anything else!

The gift of love

Sydney Walk
December 19th 1852



Today, I received an early seasonal gift from Dauncey! He raced into my dressing room as if his whole life depended on reaching me as soon as possible. It really is a most heartening habit of his to make me feel so important and I only wish Josiah might greet me with the same urgency some days. Dauncey made a triumphant little mewing sound and hurled a mouse at my feet. Had I not been able to see at once that it was dead, I should have screamed like Villiers when he assists Josiah at the Hunt. But the blood, tiny entrails and lack of a complete head reassured me that it was not about to run up my skirts at any time. Dauncey sat back, clearly awaiting my thanks and praise.

I remembered looking forward to the sugar mice Mama always brought me when she came back from being away. She was a society lady who was often invited to country house weekends and was a popular face at many a ball. She would show me how much she had missed me whilst on her travels by placing a tiny pink mouse in my hand and kissing me daintily on my head. Oh, those mice were so sweet! How much they spoke of Mama's love for me! And now Dauncey was offering me the same token of esteem. I laughed at him and begged his forgiveness for not eating the mouse immediately tail first, as I used to do to amuse Mama.

Impotent rage

May the Heavens save me from interfering women! I have received a letter from Mrs Cornbench and am now all put about. If I tell Josiah what it contains he will send me back to Blindingham for sure. I must keep it secret from him whilst determining what to do. Oh, the bother of it all!

This morning Villiers skipped into the drawing room carrying an envelope on the salver that is kept on the stand in the hall. He swept up to me and presented it under my nose as if he were the finest magician in the land.

"Madam has been sent a letter!" he squealed. "It was posted in the village back at Blindingham!"

He danced about my chair like a will o'the wisp and finally produced a silver letter opener he must have concealed in his sleeve.

"Is it from Jennet, Madam? Does it contain information I should be made aware of about the Hall?"

"There is no mud or pig feed smeared on this letter, Villiers," I said to him. "I think it must have been written by someone who spends the better part of their day indoors, don't you?"

He pinched his mouth up til he quite put me in mind of Dauncey's rear end and then left the room. He did not offer me tea, so I know he must have been cross with me.

I was preparing myself for news that Cook had come to harm, or that the Hall had been destroyed or some such drama, and walked to the window so that I could pace as I read it. But this is what the letter said,

My Dear Mrs Hatherwick,

I do hope your stay in London is continuing to be enjoyable and am quite envious of your proximity to life lived in the full. It is quiet here at Lydiatt House, but we are all well and that is enough to wish for, I am sure.

The purpose of this letter is to tell you that I visited Blindingham Hall yesterday, having given you my neighbourly promise that I would, and wish to tell you of my findings. When I arrived, Mrs Everdown showed me in and was kind enough to offer me a glass of cordial, which I accepted. I must say that she appeared in a state of some dishevelment and the glass she served my drink in was not as clean as you or I would have liked. I enquired after Cook's welfare and was assured that she is in excellent health, but that I could not see her because she was resting. I offered to wait until she had risen for the afternoon, but Mrs Everdown was quietly insistent that Cook would not be downstairs for the rest of the day.

I asked whether there was anything your staff needed that I might be able to help with in your absence, such as guidance over closing down some of the rooms for the Winter since I could not help noticing that there were no covers on the furniture that is left in the dining room. Mrs Everdown told me that she was in no need of help, despite clearly being worn out, poor lady.

As I took my leave, without having assured myself that the upstairs rooms were in good order, I took the liberty of asking Jennet how he was faring. He told me that his days were filled with household chores well enough but that he wished he did not have to be called upon so often to help Cook into her bed. When I enquired what he meant, he said that most evenings Mrs Everdown calls upon him to help her carry Cook to her room, after her sleeping draught has taken effect. As I was talking to him, Mrs Everdown rushed down the steps and gave him a job to do so he scuttled off before I could know more of the evening habits of your household.

I am sorry to say that I was left with the distinct feeling that the Hall is not being run as you would wish it. Everything was in place, the gardens are beautifully kept even in this season and there was no sign of anything untoward that I could detect. It was just a feeling that I felt I should share with you.

I realise that there is nothing you can do from such a distance but worry and I am only sorry to be the bearer of troubling news upon which you are powerless to act. I know that your being three days' travel away, and likely to be so for a good few months yet, means that the situation at the Hall will not change, unless to deteriorate still further. I do hope that my bringing this to your attention does not mar the rest of your time away from your responsibilities here.

I trust you and Mr Hatherwick will have a prosperous festive season. Please be assured that I shall continue to keep a watchful eye over your home until you return,

Yours in neighbourliness

Lorelei Cornbench


The interfering harridan! I dare not tell Josiah she is in and out of the Hall as she pleases. What exactly is she trying to say in that letter - that our glasscloths are unwashed and that Cook is heavy? What does that matter and why is it any concern of hers? I should never have accepted her offer to look in on the Hall. I would not be surprised to find her and the whole of her joined-together family living there by the time we return! She is taking far too much interest in my affairs and clearly wishes the Hall to be run as she sees fit. The liberty of the woman! I am mistress of Blindingham, not she, and I have entrusted its care to the redoubtable Mrs Everdown, whose only failing as far as I am aware was not teaching her stupid daughter how to use a mangle.

I do not know what on earth I am to do about this except to toss and turn all night with imagined conversations in which I chide her for her nosiness and point out that she would do well to concentrate her efforts on her own family, who all seem to be incapable of individual thought or action.

I am so angry I could scream, but I know that if I did Villiers would faint clean away with fright. Oh how bothersome other people are!

Resolve

Sydney Walk
December 4th 1852

I have not told Josiah about the incident with Papa yesterday. I am still too ashamed that he was brought to such a dreadful position simply because we are staying here. I want us to find rooms in a better part of London but I am sure Josiah will not countenance such a move. Indeed, if I complain overmuch about spending time here while he is attending to his business interests he will probably tell me to go back to Blindingham.

I do not wish to spend a cold winter in the Hall with only a demented woman for company and the prospect of the occasional visit from an officious neighbour, so I shall have to resign myself to Sydney Walk for the rest of our stay. I must turn my attention to more social and business activity. And, since Boo and Mrs Doughty will not visit me here - and I must say that now I understand their reluctance - I shall visit them!

Surprises

Sydney Walk
December 3rd 1852


I have had the most distressing day. It is lucky that Josiah is out this evening with Mr Waterhouse - they are attending a performance by Miss Lind in Berkeley Square, apparently - for I do not feel able to arrange my thoughts in a straight line and he would doubtless press me for an explanation. I shall write down here all that occurred and see whether it makes more sense to me in the morning.

After I had finished breakfast and given Dauncey a thorough brushing, the doorbell rang. Villiers ran to answer it and gave such a shriek that I leapt to the landing as if the house were ablaze. I could hear Papa's voice urging Villiers to put a stop to his wails and as I arrived at the foot of the stairs I could see what had caused him to become so agitated. Poor Papa was holding on to the doorway, with a river of blood pouring from his temple!

Villiers flapped around arranging towels and a bowl of water in the kitchen and we helped Papa to a seat. He seemed such a crumpled sight, not like my lion of a father at all.

"Papa! Whatever can have happened to you? Should Villiers send for the police?"

"No, Effie, I simply need a poultice and some tea. Do stop that servant of yours from screeching - I have sustained a slight accidental injury, not been set upon by pickpockets ."

I bathed Papa's head and gave him a bowl of broth - the cook is always at the market in the mornings but I managed to warm the soup myself - and after some minutes he recovered enough to tell me something of what had befallen him.

"It was nothing, Effie. I was walking along Bartlett Street and I slipped on some vegetable matter that must have fallen from a grocer's cart. Really, I should do better to contact the market association than the police - I think I could make a case against them for not securing their produce properly on those ridiculous barrows they push about."

Papa seemed to become stronger with every spoonful of the broth - I must ask the cook what she puts in it - and as he regained his composure I noticed that Villiers had fallen silent and was soothing his forehead with a wet cloth. Really, he is a marvel at social occasions but as useless as a puppy if someone is in peril. I shall mention to Josiah that when we are in London we might need a butler with a more robust approach to everyday incidents. A man should be able to slip on a potato skin without causing physical distress to the servants, I am sure.

I satisfied myself that Papa's injury was much less severe than it had seemed at first. Indeed after some more broth and a couple of stout biscuits he was quite himself again, and only an eagle could have spotted his wound.

"Shall I walk with you to your destination, Papa, to make sure your fall has not disturbed your balance?" I asked him. At which point I realised that he had not said why he was walking in our neighbourhood in the first place. I had not been expecting him to visit and as far as I am aware we do not live near any legal offices or other business interests of his. As I spoke, I fancied that the same thought had occurred to him.

"Well, I was...erm....I had planned...." he faltered a little, which is to be expected in someone who has just received a blow to the head, I suppose, and then he went on. "I was hoping to surprise you with a seasonal visit, my dear, " he said, "I wondered whether you might like to take tea with me in Town."

"What a charming plan!" I answered, "And how cunning of you to call without announcement and to come so far out of your way to treat me. If you still feel able, I should be delighted to accompany you." I instructed Villiers to get our outdoor things together and then dashed upstairs to make sure that Dauncey was comfortable and unlikely to miss me. He was in a heavenly cat sleep that I could not bring myself to spoil with a goodbye kiss.

When we were out on Sydney Walk, I looked at Papa in cold daylight and saw how old he looked. I had never thought of him as anything other than my dashing Papa before, but this morning he seemed as if he had aged twenty years in the last ten. He has never truly recovered from losing Mama so cruelly, I suppose. We walked along in silence for a few minutes and then another awful thing happened. A harsh voice broke our thoughts,

"George! You old goat! You dusted yourself down quick enough, didn't you? Where did you find this one?" I looked up and saw a woman I have often seen before - when I have been out walking in the late afternoons with Dauncey - staring quite brazenly at Papa." Papa was staring back, aghast.

"Do you know her, Papa?," I asked him.

"Oooh! 'Do you know her Papa!' she's a pretty one, George!" said the woman, glancing at me. "I asked you where you found her."

"She is my daughter," said Papa, quietly.

"Daughter, indeed!" scorned the woman, "And I suppose I'm your mother, now, am I? You stay with those you know, George, else next time it won't just be your head." She threw her hair back, laughed and skittered off, leaving poor Papa looking confused. She must have seen him fall earlier and chosen not to help him, the witch.

"What nonsense she talks, Papa! Pay no attention." I held his arm as he leaned towards me and I watched as he looked around us as if trying to assure himself that no-one else had seen this exchange.

I was horrified. I had introduced my dear, proud father to the sort of people I had become used to without noticing that they had no shame and less dignity. The poor man had simply wished to surprise his daughter with afternoon tea in a London hotel and I, by living in Sydney Walk, had subjected him to public derision and physical harm. We did have tea in Town but he hardly spoke to me - I can only assume he was angry that I could expose him to such degradation.

The mortification I feel is almost unbearable. I am glad Josiah is spending the evening in civilised company. I do not feel I derve to do so myself.

Local knowledge

Sydney Walk
November 27th 1852

Good news from Blindingham. It appears that all is well and the staff are managing to look after Cook and contain her more excessive behaviour. I had not realised how worried I have been until I felt such a surge of relief at reading Mrs Cornbench's note.

It is as well that there is nothing to concern me at home, for there is plenty to occupy me here in London. I have taken Dauncey out for a stroll or two - we make quite a pair as he pokes his pretty nose from my sleeve - and have begun to feel quite the Kensington lady. I am making plans for my contribution to the Press, I am organising a lunch party and am even beginning to help Josiah in his business. For the first time I feel as though my life is full of enterprise and sociability. I have Dauncey to thank for such fulfilment, I am sure. His need for my care is most gratifying.

The streets around Sydney Walk are alive with folk at all times of the day and night - it is quite different from Belgrave Square. I was not greeted so warmly there despite the fashionable nature of our address. In Kensington, Josiah and I have both noticed that we are observed more closely and approached more often than we had expected. People feel no shyness in speaking to us here, I am perfectly at home. I will perhaps feel emboldened when Dauncey and I are next abroad - he shall act as my Ambassador and I am sure it will be no time at all before I am a common regular around these streets!

Reassurance

Lydiatt House
November 21st 1852


My Dear Mrs Hatherwick

This is the briefest of notes, intended to reassure you that all is well at Blindingham.

I took the liberty of calling at the Hall yesterday afternoon and was greatly encouraged to see your Mrs Everdown hard at work cleaning the front door and steps. She is a treasure, I can tell. I did not have sight of the poor lady who used to cook for you, but Mrs Everdown and Mr Jennet both told me that she is well and, on the whole, quiet.

I trust that you and Mr Hatherwick are enjoying your sojourn in the City. Please do not feel that you need to reply to this communication, which shall not be repeated unless there is a need to disturb you. I am confident that that will not be the case.

Yours

Lorelei Cornbench

Chagrin

Sydney Walk
November 20th 1852

I am much chastened by Boo's response to my request. She is right, of course, that we must not seek to use the Press for our own ends. I am lucky that such an honourable woman chooses to have a self-serving silly goose like me for a friend. I shall invite her to tea and try to make amends, if that ninny of a maid can see her way to arranging some cakes. The prospect of her serving my London friends with sandwiches makes me quite faint, but I must not sit alone here all Winter simply because I have an idiot in my employ.

By Return

Showcasing the Press

My Dear Boo

I am sending the banker's draft with this note - I have asked the boy to wait and bring me your response, since I shall need proof that he has indeed put it in your hands and not used it to set off for a new life in Pennsylvania, or some such place. I have heard that America is a country where poor people may cast off the shackles of their birth and rise to greatness, although the postboy I am sending does not appear to have much ambition about him. He is a thin little fellow who would be blown overboard by the merest gust of an Atlantic wind. Anyway, please write and tell me you have received the money.

I know that I have been sworn to secrecy about my involvement with The Press, but I am so amazed by our achievements that I am finding it hard not to announce my business interest to Josiah. Do you think now might be an acceptable time to show him some of their work? I only mean to have a few small periodicals or books sent to me, so that I may plan the most propitious moment to show him that I am so much more than a London socialite. Please do not be cross with me for asking - it is only that I am so pleased with the work we have done giving employment to so many eager young women. What do you think, Boo? I am fit to burst with pride.

I shall stand with Dauncey at the window and wait for the next American President to return with your answer!

Yrs

Effie x

My terrible servant

Sydney Walk
November 3rd 1852


We have employed the stupidest girl in Christendom. She can make a fire and heat water to wash with, but beyond that she is useless. She has ruined my blue dress, the one I was planning to wear if we are invited to a party, and she has mislaid my tortoiseshell dressing set, so that my hair has to be put up with horrible little pins. And yesterday she tripped over Dauncey, who was minding his own business on the stairs, and she dropped the bowl and jug from my washstand. This morning I washed from an enamel dish, like a pauper. I have told Josiah that I do not want her working for us any longer, but he insists that she needs time to adjust to our ways.

I almost wish The Girl was back with us - she was competent, despite her ridiculous weeping all the time - but she is now working permanently for Josiah's friend. And since I stopped paying her wages I no longer have any say over what she does. So I can do little but hope this booby improves. If she steps on Dauncey again I shall tread on her head myself to see how she would like it....

New Premises

Sydney Walk
October 29th 1852

I visited the new Press this afternoon - Boo and Mrs Doughty have done tremendous work. They wanted to surprise me so they asked me to take a carriage to an address in Bayswater, where they would meet me and then walk me to the premises nearby. When I alighted, they were giddy as kittens and rushed up with a pretty scarf to cover my eyes in order to prolong the suspense. They chattered over each other in such excitement that I could not work out the route they were guiding me along, and when I told them they should slow down for fear I would never be able to find the place on my own they laughed aloud at my silliness. I have never known them in such a playful mood - it was such fun to be with them again!

The Press is now housed in a most impressive building. It is much larger than the Highgate factory, with a sprawling open ground floor where all the machinery is situated. There were more girls than I could count, all rushing around looking very busy and chattering away as they worked. It is a very happy workplace, for sure.

I wanted to be shown all the upstairs offices - I could see a lot of doors leading off the upper landing - but Boo needed to get back to LB, who has a touch of the croup she said. I do not know what croup is but apparently he needs regular steam baths and Boo was concerned that the maid would not hold his head correctly, or something. So after a whirlwind tour of the shop floor I was put straight into a carriage Mrs Doughty had arranged for me and I came back to Sydney Walk. I did not mind so much because Dauncey was waiting for me in the window and I had to write to Papa's bank to authorise a withdrawal of funds to give to Boo for the Press. I can see now why they needed such a large amount! I shall go back soon and see the rest of it at my leisure - if I can recall how to get there.

Our happy news!

Sydney Walk
October 17th 1852

What a thoughtful man my husband is! He had noticed that I was somewhat deflated at the lack of visitors here since we arrived and so he has given me my very own companion. I now share Sydney Walk with a scrumptious little kitten!

Josiah said he saw him sitting at the bottom of our street steps gazing up at the door waiting patiently for it to open. He said it looked for all the World as if the kitten had been given our address and hurried over to make our acquaintance.

"I would not have been surprised to see him with a little valise, Eff, with a collar and some dried fish inside, ready to move in."

So now Dauncey is a resident, alongside Josiah, myself, Villiers and the maid. I am beginning to see why Boo always looks so exhausted - small creatures are so full of energy they leave no room for any of one's own. And we make quite the happy household. If I listened hard enough I am sure I could hear every one of us purring with contentment.