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.

Mrs Madeley is strict but fair, she encourages and chastises in equal measure, a job done well is praised but should she find fault with the work, her tongue is sharp and her words demeaning. I accept praise and admonishment with the same relish. There is an intoxicating simplicity to my life a maid, I awake, I work, punctuated with breaks for meals, then return to my bunk. A life devoid of all responsibility, I do as I am told, when I am told and how I am told.

Into my third week I am polishing the bannisters of the main staircase when Mistress begins to descend. I stand back for her to pass lower my gaze and curtsy.  To my surprise so stops in front of me, should I look up? I do, and her face is stern and staring, as if examining something on her shoe.

“You are the new maid aren’t you, Milly, the one who speaks well?”

I curtsy again worried for what reason Mistress may have to speak with me and cannot help but stutter a little.

“Yes, yes Mistress, I, I am the new maid, temporary maid, Mistress.”

Looking me up and down a soft smile grows on her face then it evaporates as quickly as it came.

“Leave your work, and go to the housekeeper’s office, now girl quickly.”

Laying down my polish and cloth I walk to Mrs Madeley’s office knock, enter, and curtsy. Mrs Madeley looks up from her desk and, without a word, points to a chair in the corner. I take her nonverbal instruction and sit on the chair. My mind is in turmoil, what is it, what have I done? I am not sat long before Mistress enters, looks at me, then turns to Mrs Madeley handing her a book.

“Have the maid read this”.

Mrs Madeley stands and brings the book to me, randomly opens a page, and tells me to read aloud from the text.  Mistress sits with her back to me, and I begin. Three pages and I am told to stop. Mistress stands and faces her housekeeper.

“Excellent, you were right Mrs Madeley, three thirty tomorrow afternoon, the diamond room”

I watch the swish of her elegant skirts when Mistress turns and leaves and sit wondering what that was all about. Mrs Madeley chuckles taking the book back from me.

“It seems Gwyneth has a sore throat so you will be reading for Mistress and her guests tomorrow.”

I sit, somewhat relived but no doubt with a look of concern on my face. I know Gwyneth to be one of the lady’s maid’s and the diamond room is the smaller of the reception rooms. I am to read for Mistress and her guests. To my surprise that evening Mrs Madeley brings me a lovely dress and a pair of shoes.

“You will wash your hair and wear these for the reading tomorrow, come to my office at three, don’t be late.”

Jenny is not jealous that I have been chosen to read for Mistress in fact she is quite pleased. Probably more pleased that Gwyneth is unwell. There is no love lost between the two Lady’s maids and the other staff. The two maids attending to the family’s needs, Gwyneth, and Pauline, see themselves to be a cut above the others.  Not surprisingly Jenny and I are given the task of cleaning the diamond room the following morning. Mrs Madeley thoroughly checking our work.

My hair dried and brushed Jenny mocks a curtsy in front of me, having helped me into the dress I have been given to wear.

“I Bet you have never worn a dress like that before Milly, must have cost a fortune, and those shoes too.”

I smile, my wardrobe at Crestley House is filled with similar expensive dresses and gowns but for the maid I am, Jenny is correct, a maid could never own and wear the like.

“No Jenny, it feels quite strange wearing such a lovely dress.”

If those words are convincing, they should be. Three weeks put to work wearing a utilitarian maid’s uniform, there is a strangeness to the soft drape and feel of the dress.

Two hours I sit on a raised stool in front of Mistress and her twelve guests reading Moby Dick by Herman Melville.  Before the ladies retire to take tea, I curtsy and blush at the polite applause I am given for my reading. I have always prided myself on my diction and inflection to give clear meaning to the written word, appreciated it would seem by Mistress and her guests. Mrs Madeley enters the room, and I am ushered away to her office. The dress and shoes removed I walk back to my quarters barefoot and in my underwear. I giggle getting back into my uniform, my brief dalliance with grandeur over.

Back at the banality of my duties. Having cleaned and polished then carrying the chairs that had been arranged for the reading, back into the main hall with Jenny, I cannot help thinking privileged to have been chosen by Mistress. Strange that I should consider such thoughts? It is not a thought in isolation though, this last week I have been increasingly accepting of my lowly rank and status at Bracken Hall.  Along with these thoughts, of my own humble position, I am finding a comfort in acknowledging the superiority of the Master and Mistress. Their elegance and arrogance to be admired and deserving of my deference.  Only weeks ago, I would consider them no more than equals, now, the effect of my desire for my subjugation in their household, insidiously, and effectively purging such thoughts from my willing mind. I am not their equal, how could that possibly be? I am their obedient servant, their maid, and, with each day passing accepting myself to be worthy of little more.

With Jenny and I busy at our work, unannounced the door to Mrs Madeley’s office is pushed open and the Mistress of Bracken house enters.

“Mrs Madeley have you filled the position for the maid vacancy yet?”

Caught off guard by Mistress’s sudden entrance into her office Mrs Madeley stands awkwardly and curtsies.

“Erm, no, no, not yet I am awaiting some replies, it is getting harder to obtain servants these days, good ones especially. The temporary maid, Milly, the one who read for you the other day, she leaves us at the end of next week, so I am hoping to have someone in place before then.”

Mistress frowns.

“You know we have the gala in two weeks’ time, I will not have the residence understaffed for that we have guests arriving. If you don’t find anyone suitable you will have to keep this Milly woman here.”

Mrs Madeley sits with her thoughts. The gala, the bloody gala, she cannot let Mistress down. Milly is one of Burtonshaw’s maids, on a month’s contract, it is unlikely that Mayfair Domestic Services will allow Brannigan to stay on. The chances of getting a new maid for the gala weekend are not good and concludes that she will have to write to Agnes, try and twist her arm, call in some of the favours owed. And the maid, Milly, she will have words with her, the maid seems happy here, a good opportunity for her, more work.

Mrs Madeley looks up from her desk.

“I will not let you down Mistress, everything will be fine for the gala.”

Two days later, sat in the offices of Mayfair Domestic Services, many miles south from the wilds of Bracken Hall, Agnes Burtonshaw attends to her mail.

She chuckles reading the letter she has received from her friend at Bracken Hall, Dorothy is obviously in a pickle, her letter hinting at a degree of desperation. But Milly Brannigan, wanting to retain her, keep her at Bracken Hall for a further month? Well, well, what to do?  With her diary full, Agnes has no other maids available for Bracken Hall, it will have to be Milly, Miss Williams as was.  Doubting her Mistress maid will be willing to extend her time a maid, Agnes will need to ensure her maid Milly has little choice in the matter. Smiling to herself, Agnes considers that the woman wanted to be a maid, currently is a maid, and that a maid she will remain for some time yet.

Agnes writes back to Dorothy letting her know that she will visit Bracken Hall to discuss matters with her, considering a good fee should be in order for such assistance.

Beating rugs is probably the most physically demanding tasks for a maid and both Jenny and I are exhausted laying the last of the rugs back in place. Mrs Madeley wants to see me, and I wash and then tie on a clean apron before approaching her office. I knock, enter, and curtsy before taking the seat offered by her desk.

I smile when Milly enters, she looks a little weary from cleaning the rugs this afternoon and point to the chair I have placed in front of my desk.

“Come in Milly, take a seat, I just wanted a little chat to see how you are liking your time at Bracken Hall. So, are you liking the work here, you seem quite content, is Jenny looking after you, no problems are there?”

My time at Bracken Hall could not have been better, everything I had imagined and more of a maid’s life. I have allowed myself to become engrossed in the persona of Miss Milly Brannigan, relishing my unconditional servility. Sat here as I am, aproned, a maid, submissive and subservient to the will of this housekeeper, bereft of ambition save only to serve, a fulfilment of dreams and imaginings, of an existence long repressed.

“Yes Miss, most content, I am very happy here Miss, I get on well with Jenny, no problems at all Miss.”

Milly confirms my thoughts, she is happy working here as I suspected, but what lays ahead for her, what are her plans when her contract at Bracken Hall finishes? 

“That’s good to hear Milly, you are more than a competent maid, I have no complaints of your work or attitude. I am not one to pry but, I understand you enjoyed a better life before becoming a maid, financial issues for your family leaving you destitute, that saw you turn to service, to take the apron, is that correct?”

My back story, repeated numerous times, without too much detail, is an accepted fallacy for me, a believable deception that proved effective in explaining my education and refined speech with my fellow maids. In my imaginings I have in the past, and still do contemplate such a delectable demise of my standing, to be put to the apron. Why should I not confirm such to Mrs Madeley?

“Yes Miss, I do not linger with the past, I am a maid and have been for some time, this is the only life I know Miss.”

Milly seems to harbour no anger at the loss of past privilege, or jealously of those who still enjoy such privilege, content with her lot, a mere maid, interesting.

“I am sorry for you but pleased that you bear no grudge for past experiences. So, you now work for Mayfair Domestic Service’s, for Mrs Burtonshaw? Where will you go when you finish your time here at Bracken Hall Milly?”

A reminder of my alternate reality, my time in service at Bracken Hall will indeed soon be over, just one more week before I leave. I doubt Mrs Madeley is really interested in my future, just being polite. It is not a lie; I have signed a contract with Mrs Burtonshaw’s organisation and a maid such as I am, would have no say in the matter and I concoct a plausible response to her question. The words that will unknowingly seal my fate and my future, flow freely and convincingly from my lips. Convincingly in that subconsciously, it is perhaps my true wish.

“When I leave Bracken Hall? that will be up to Mrs Burtonshaw, I am contracted to Mayfair Domestic Services, she will place me in another household.”

Interesting, it would seem Milly is not aware of a future placement, she will go wherever Agnes decides. Perfect, I just have to convince Agnes that this maid’s future, for a further month at least is here at Bracken Hall. I don’t want to make any promises to the maid, I may yet find a replacement and more importantly, Agnes may already have committed this maid to other work. I will say nothing until I have spoken with Agnes when she visits but, keeping Milly on at Bracken Hall would be the ideal solution. She is a good worker and tells me she is happy here. Who knows perhaps I can negotiate to keep Milly here indefinitely; she has fitted in well and I think she would like that, a roof over her head, something permanent for her? Good maids are hard to find after all.

I stand and smile

“That’s all for now Milly, you can go back to your duties.”

I stand and curtsy.

“Thank you, Miss”

I am at the door about to leave when I am asked one last question.

“Milly one other thing, when you are not engaged by Mrs Burtonshaw, do you have your own place, a permanent place, where you live?”

How could I, a common maid, afford my own home, and provide what I think to be the expected answer.

“No Miss, if I am not working for Mrs Burtonshaw, she finds me a room for me to stay.”

The door closes and Milly is gone back to work, and I chuckle.

I thought as much, the maid has no ties, no home to call her own, if Agnes can be convinced, I think Milly will be most grateful to be kept on at Bracken Hall.

Leaving the housekeepers office, I smile walking towards the dining room to help Jenny prepare for the families evening meal. Mrs Madeley seemed genuinely interested about me, well about Milly her maid. So, convincing my deception, she has no clue who I am, who I really am, who I was before arriving to take up my position of maid at Bracken Hall. It is quite satisfying being accepted to be nothing other than a common maid. She had asked if I was happy to be at Bracken Hall, if only she knew just how happy. Like the others, she was accepting of my story, of my families’ ruin, being put to the apron. I am sure that it was genuine concern shown, of where I would go after leaving my employ at Bracken Hall, even asking if I had a place to live? What I told her about living in a rented room provided by Mrs Burtonshaw would have been no different than what she would expect of common maid. 

I think little more of my discussion with Mrs Madeley, there is the dining room to prepare. Jenny is keen to know what Mrs Madeley wanted with me and I have to think, because I don’t really know why she wanted to see me and ask me what she had.

“Just asking if I liked my time working here at Bracken Hall.”

I giggle

“She asked if you were looking after me and I said you were. Wanted to know if I knew where I would be working next, and if I had my own place.”

Jenny smiled, pleased that we were not in trouble for anything.

“Mrs Madeley likes you, I can tell, and Mistress, letting you take Gwyneth’s place to read. I am surprised they don’t want to keep you. I know they have not found another maid yet, would you do that Milly, stay here at Bracken Hall if they wanted you to? It’s not just Mrs Madeley, we all like you, would you stay Milly, would you?”

 I laugh. How could I possibly stay here, although being a maid at Bracken Hall is all I ever wanted it to be, imagined it could be, and I doubt my life will ever be the same having spent time being a real working maid. Jenny is good natured and good hearted, and it feels wrong to lie to her but if she knew the truth. That beyond the walls of Bracken Hall I am little different than the Mistress we both serve, what would she think of me then? A mad woman, a lunatic, a woman of wealth wanting to live the life of a maid.

“Jenny, I couldn’t stay if I wanted to, I work for Mrs Burtonshaw’s maid business, she will have other work waiting for me.”

Jenny finishes setting the places on the dining table and turns with a smile on her face. What she says makes my knees weak and my whole-body tremble with imaginings at the prospect of such an exquisite entrapment. It was as if Jenny had reached into my very soul and revealed its darkest secret desires.

“Mistress could buy you, purchase your contract from your boss, Mrs Burtonshaw, you would have to stay then, wouldn’t you.”

Have I not dreamt and imaged of such a tantalising ensnarement, a just reward for my pretence, held a maid, kept a maid, aproned without recourse in just such a place as Bracken Hall?

I gather myself, supressing my emotions, and laugh making light of Jenny’s words.

“Buy me, don’t be silly Jenny, who in their right mind would want to buy me, and I very much doubt Mrs Burtonshaw would contemplate such a thing.”