Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 4.

by Jackie J

Linda is back at Crestley Manor and the household is returning to its normal routines. It was awkward at first, of course it was, not only for me but for Mrs Burtonshaw. What I had done could not be undone, not that I would ever wish it to be. During the first days, after Linda’s return, when Mrs Burtonshaw’s and my own paths crossed, I had to stop myself from lowering a curtsy. Calling her Miss crossed my lips a few times which brought an exchange of knowing smiles between us.

What I have noticed, since Linda’s return, something perhaps I wasn’t aware of previously, is how often I interact directly with Linda and how much of her time I take from her. Bringing tea or refreshments when I desire, the preparation of my clothing, a book from the library or any other such task.  Keeping pace with Mrs Renwick’s daily rota had not been an issue for me and I had wondered, at the time, why Linda often appeared hurried in her work. I of course had not been at the beck and call of a Mistress had I. Reflecting on this aspect of Linda’s work I couldn’t help myself from feeling a little cheated that I had not had a mistress to serve, but then how could I have, I was the mistress. Having been a month a maid I cannot help feeling restless, that I should be doing things, no doubt these feelings will pass but I am doubting my life can ever return to what it was. A ridiculous madness I am sure, but each time I see Linda I am questioning my worthiness of my privilege. Harbouring feelings of resentment towards her, jealous of the simple servility of her existence, an existence I had shared and known, and what should be worrying but isn’t, an existence that I still covet.

Understandably strange, with Miss Williams having returned to her status of Mistress of the household. I swear whenever I see her, she is about to curtsy. She called me Miss a couple times which I find amusing. Four days now since Linda’s return, she is a pleasant enough girl, a good maid and knows her routines needing little supervision. She is happy to be back at work, her mother is still convalescing, but Linda is quite hopeful she will make a full recovery. Whilst Linda appears to have settled back into her role, following her time away, the same cannot be said for Miss Williams. I have seen her watching her maid at work, no doubt wishing herself to still be at those tasks. Her time a maid, much like I suspected, having not purged her obsession, but fuelled it.

One more week and Janice will be back at Crestley House, and I will be away to my next assignment. I enjoyed many good years being a resident Housekeeper but there is a sense of freedom doing the temporary work I now do. Since my husband’s tragic accident, leaving me a relatively young widow, for a time, I was lost to my mourning. With the temporary assignments and constant change there is always something ahead, in the future, something different. Still housekeeping of course but a different environment different residences, mistresses, and masters and of course the staff to supervise. I am not an ogre, but I have built quite a reputation that precedes me. Thankfully word spreads, and that reputation keeps me in demand.  

Reviewing my forward diary, I chuckle to myself at what I have found here, what I have indulged here at Crestley House. I thought I had seen most things but a Mistress Maid incredible.  Westly Hall is my next assignment, but I doubt that I will find the mistress there, Lady Monmouth, willing to take the apron. She is very much old school. Two years since my last work at Westly Hall and I recall the draconian regime implemented for the maids there. Not wickedly so, not like at Pike Towers, just the thought of that place makes me shiver, I won’t be going back there in a hurry, even if asked, which is doubtful.

The eve of my housekeepers return soon arrives and I sit in my study awaiting the arrival of Mrs Burtonshaw to settle her account. Nothing has been said these last weeks since my time her maid. It is like it never happened but we both know it did. She leaves after the handover with her friend Janice tomorrow, and I am hopeful, with a financial incentive, what happened here, will remain a secret between us.

A knock on the door and Mrs Burtonshaw enters.

“Good evening, Mrs Burtonshaw, do come in, please take a seat.”

I smile, hard to get the image of Milly my maid from my mind, but there she sits in her beautiful dress looking every part the Mistress of the household. I pull a chair close to the desk and sit.

“Thank you, Miss Williams, you asked to see me.”

I open the file containing Mrs Burtonshaw’s letter of engagement.

“Yes, I did. First your fee. I have that here for you, and for, well we both know what for, I would like you to also have this, and my thanks of course. I am trusting that I can rely on your discretion, concerning your time here at Crestley House?” 

I take both amounts, counting would be rude, and place the monies into my side satchel. The fee is obviously what was agreed but the other amount is, by comparison, not inconsiderable.

“Thank you, Miss William’s, this is most generous of you, and quite unexpected. My discretion has served me well over the years, Miss Williams, and you may rest assured of my absolute discretion in all matters concerning Crestley house.”   

I watch the tenseness in her fade, at my committal to keep her time being my maid between the two of us, and her voice becomes lighter.

“And what next for you Mrs Burtonshaw, after you leave Crestley House?”

I doubt there is any genuine interest, just being polite, but it is no secret.

“Westly Hall, I travel to Westly Hall in Cumbria, the housekeeper there has not been well for some time and is being given leave to convalesce, to fully recover with her family. I am unsure how long I will be there, but I have agreed to a month initially, though I doubt it will be longer than that.”

Miss Renwick had told me about her friend, what she did, standing in at households across the country when the need arose. Her services much sought after, I was told.

“Cumbria, in the North I understand, quite some travelling ahead of you then.”

The travel I am not looking forward to but a necessary evil.

“Yes, in the North, and the travel I am used to.”

 I pause and stare then smile, I am leaving tomorrow but curious to know what is in her mind.

“And for you, Miss Williams, now your genie is out of its bottle, I have seen you staring at your maid Linda with a degree of envy in your eye whilst she is at her work. I sense your needs in that regard have not been fully met. Whatever will you do?”

Nothing had been said, since Linda’s return, concerning my time aproned for Mrs Burtonshaw and I blush being caught off guard.

I chuckle seeing her obvious embarrassment.

“Miss Williams there is no need to be embarrassed, not with me at any rate. Am I wrong, those desires you shared with me when I arrived, are they still with you? I suspect they are and if anything, having been put to the apron, they are actually stronger than before. I ask out of genuine concern, I fear that with my friend Janice, should she happen upon you like I did, that you may find yourself kept her maid and she will become the Mistress of Crestley House, a mistress you will learn to serve.”

I gulp, have my observations of Linda been so obvious, My housekeeper, Miss Renwick, Mistress of Crestley House, myself her maid? I splutter my reply to such an absurdity.

“Yes, no, I mean no, I mean yes, I still have those feelings I can’t help that, but put to the apron by Miss Renwick, no I wouldn’t let that happen.”

I laugh.

“Really, yes, no, no, yes?  I could soon have you back in your uniform, in fact I may, make a present of you to your returning housekeeper, have you stood by the door to curtsy and collect her bags, Milly the new maid of Crestley House.”

I am becoming flushed at thoughts of such an entrapment and stand

“Stop, stop, stop this, please stop.”

Not unreasonable, she is upset by my suggested prophecy of her future, and I seek to settle her.

“Sit down, calm yourself, be assured I would do no such thing, but the question still remains what are you going to do.”

I stare across the desk at Mrs Burtonshaw regaining my composure, she is right I could not risk being found aproned by Miss Renwick, but she is also right in that my wish to be aproned again is stronger than ever. Like Mrs Burtonshaw stated, the genie is out of the bottle, what to do indeed?

I shake my head.

“I don’t know, you saw how I was, when those apron tapes are tied around me. If I found myself tempted back into one of Linda’s uniforms, discovered by Mrs Renwick, O my goodness? She would keep me like that, wouldn’t she, why wouldn’t she?”

I smile at her realisation that any repeat of taking the apron at Crestley House could have dire and lasting consequences for her. Now to present my proposal.

“I may, just may mind you, have a solution for your dilemma. I make no secret that it would serve me, although more so you I suspect. As you know I travel from assignment to assignment, covering for absent Housekeepers but it is not uncommon that I come across a similar need for maids. Had you not proved yourself to be proficient, indeed a most competent maid, I would not consider such a proposal. I say if, and only if I become aware of such a temporary position for a maid, perhaps that would suit your purpose. I would recommend you, provide your credentials and a maid you can be. When your assignment is over you can return to Crestley House, no one would be the wiser. Your wages would come to me of course but I doubt that would be an issue for you, would it?”

I sit considering what Mrs Burtonshaw is proposing, offer myself up to be a maid, really?

“You are serious aren’t you, that I could be placed, you could place me in a residence, a maid, a common maid?”

I maintain my soft smile.

“Yes, that is exactly what I am proposing, it is what you want isn’t it, to be aproned again, to be a maid again? What better way for you to exercise your demons than to experience life being a real maid?  With my recommendation I am sure an opportunity will arise for you.”

I laugh, more from nerves than humour.

“Mrs Burtonshaw, I am not sure, I mean, look can I think about it. It’s not like you have something in mind now, is it? I would need to make arrangements, perhaps travelling, yes travelling an extended holiday. Mrs Renwick would be fine looking after Crestley House whilst I was away. You have me all of a dither Mrs Burtonshaw. A name, I would need a name for such a subterfuge?”

I wasn’t sure, but now I am, I have a maid. Placing competent maids in the right household, even on a temporary basis, I have found to be quite lucrative, with handsome fee’s to be had. Why shouldn’t I exploit this silly woman’s perverse desires and line my pockets at the same time?

“A name, why Milly, you have your name, Milly, and a surname? Let me think, Brannigan, yes Milly Brannigan, that has a common sound to it. A common name for a common maid, perfect. I will prepare documents for you, for when and if the need arises. One thing to consider, before we commence our deception, your hair, you may find a shorter cut more practical. A small sacrifice I am sure you will agree.” 

It is a restless night’s sleep after listening to Mrs Burtonshaw’s proposal, me, a maid in a strange household. She is right who would know? But could I, really?

Shortly after breakfast, my housekeeper returns and, after welcoming her back to Crestley house, I leave Mrs Burtonshaw and Miss Renwick to complete the details of the hand over. I formally thank Mrs Burtonshaw for her service before she leaves, and she is gone.

Although I have mentioned to Miss Renwick, that I am considering taking some time away from Crestley House to travel, I have received no communication from Mrs Burtonshaw. Two months and still no word. Despite my initial excitement at the prospect of being an actual maid, I am concluding that it is never going to happen. Perhaps Mrs Burtonshaw’s proposal was not a proposal at all, but no more than a wicked tease, and I am to feeling rather foolish for having my hair trimmed like she had suggested before she left. Still, it will grow back, eventually?

Having more or less given up on hearing anything from Mrs Burtonshaw, I open a large envelope I have received to find no correspondence within but a second envelope. Not addressed to me but to Miss Milly Brannigan?

I sit at my desk staring at the envelope. Mrs Burtonshaw had put it well, when she said that my genie had been let out of its bottle when she found me like she had, will I now be willing to open, what could be considered, a Pandora's box. There is a reluctance, a hesitancy to open the envelope addressed to Miss Milly Brannigan, but I know I must, and I do.