Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

After dinner the Master and Mistress of Bracken Hall were talking in the parlour and James was anxious to know how preparations for the gala were progressing, it was just over a week away.

Lucinda sighed.

“Well, the Jacksons won’t be with us this year they are travelling, and Patricia is doubtful but everyone else responded, so a full house all the same. I have one fly in the ointment that I am trying to resolve. Madeley still hasn’t found a replacement maid, and the temporary maid from Mayfair, Milly, leaves at the end of the week. I have told Madeley that we can’t be short staffed for the gala weekend, and I am hopeful of keeping this temporary maid here. Milly is good, in fact very good, according to Madeley, what do you think of her?”

James tops up his whiskey from the decanter.

“Can’t say I know the woman, our maids all look the bloody same to me, devoid of personality, yes Sir, no Sir, like penguins in their uniforms about their work. I know Gwyneth and Betty of course but they are different, I rarely see the others.”

Lucinda takes the opportunity to have a dig at her husband about the amount of time he spends away from the hall.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 6.

by Jackie J

Two weeks a maid at Bracken Hall, and I have settled into a maid’s life and the work routines with Jenny. The cleaning is mundane and can be tiring but why wouldn’t it be. The mistress is quite obsessive, regarding the overall cleanliness of the residence: everything must be kept immaculate and pristine.  A misplaced ornament, a smear or trace of dust brings humiliating chastisement. Jenny is resentful of the belittling of her efforts but for me, this reinforcement of my lowly status, serves only to encourage and deepen my desires of humbling servility. I was teased about my refined accent by Jenny and the other maid’s during my first few days, I still am, but much less so.

My concocted back story brought an understanding but little sympathy. A wealthy family left destitute, I had been forced to enter service and become a housemaid. Jenny taking some pleasure that I had been reduced in status and having to now work like her, a common maid. Having proved my worth, with brush, mop, and cloth, and not shirked the hardest or dirtiest of tasks, Jenny accepted “The posh maid” was a good worker. During moments of reflection, to my current circumstance, I do wonder if the privations of a maid that I endure, in contrast to the opulence and lavish lifestyle of my masters, is not softened knowing the comforts of Crestley House await me following my time here. There is a total indifference and unwavering arrogance shown to the staff by all the family, my curtsies of deference, offered should they pass by whilst at work, unacknowledged and ignored as if I am invisible.  I have little doubt however, that should such deference not be shown, I would feel the nondecorative use of the leather strap hanging in the kitchens.