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Ann wished she could take supper alone in her room, but she knew she daren’t ask. The other servants would see it as more evidence of how she put on airs and thought she was better than them. So Ann sat at the long kitchen table, silent amidst the jostling and laughing, trying not to cry. It had been another long day, and another hard one, and the smallest mistake earned instant rebuke while perfection earned only silence.
“What’s wrong, Annie?” asked Florence beside her, her voice loaded with false sweetness. Her roommate liked her least of all, she knew. Florence reached over and grabbed Ann’s wrists, turning her hands over. “Your poor hands,” she exclaimed, not even looking at Ann but at some of the others around the table. “Look what service is doing to poor Annie’s soft hands.”
There was a chorus of laughs, and Ann pulled her hands away with a jerk, her elbow slamming into the back of the chair. Her hands were sore, but she hadn’t complained, not once. “I’m fine,” she said.
“And what’s all this laughing for?”
The laughter died down at once as Mrs. Jennings entered the kitchen. The housekeeper stared down at the staff. “Did Ann Parson have a good joke for us?”
“No, Mrs. Jennings,” Ann said, eyes still lowered.
“Are you sure, girl? You’re not entertaining your friends with how you skived off airing the linens in the Green Room?”
“No, Mrs. Jennings!” Ann protested, lifting her head now with anger and confusion.
“No because you did air them? If so it was the poorest job of it I’ve ever seen.”
Ann saw smirks forming on some of the other faces, but she locked eyes with Mrs. Jennings. “I didn’t air them out at all,” she said. She knew she was walking the line, now, but she had worked so hard, and she was sure she hadn’t forgotten. “I was not instructed to, Mrs. Jennings.”
“Are you calling me a liar, my girl?” Mrs. Jennings was striding toward her.
“No-” Ann started. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. She hadn’t been told to do anything in the Green Room, she was sure of it.
“Stand up,” Mrs. Jennings instructed her. “Now bend over. You, Florence, clear room for her. Boy, fetch me that switch, quickly now.”
The room was dead silent for a long moment as Florence quickly pulled dishes out of the way, and Johnny the underfootman rose and hesitantly unhooked the long wooden rod from far wall and carried it to Mrs. Jennings.
“Bend over, Ann Parsons,” Mrs. Jennings said again. “Or leave this house tonight.”
Tears flowing freely now at the unfairness of it all, Ann hesitated only a moment. She would bear it. She had to.
The switch whistled through the air, and had surprising sting even through her thin dress. The second blow landed exactly where the first had and now it really bit, and Ann balled her hands into fists, focusing on the sting there and not across her posterior, and the switch hit again and again, and it was so unfair, until Ann couldn’t help but gasp out a sob.
“Don’t let it happen again, girl,” Mrs. Jennings said, and Ann only realized it was over when she added. “Someone put this back for me.”
Slowly, Ann eased herself back to her seat as Mrs. Jennings left the kitchen again. It hurt to sit now too. Everything hurt, not least her pride.
“Her hands aren’t the only thing that’s red now,” said one of the grooms.
Ann stared down at the table waiting for the laughter, but it was interrupted.
“You be quiet, Ed,” Florence shot out. “We all remember you crying like a babe when Mrs. Jennings had Carter whip you at Christmas.” “
And you deserved that one too,” someone else added.
Ann risked a look up, searching Florence’s face for a smirk, but she found none. There were some laughs now, directed at Ed, who flushed red.
“I know she didn’t tell you anything about the Green Room, or anyone else neither,” Florence said, quieter. “And even if she did, it didn’t rate what she did. Old Jennings must be losing her mind. Brave of you to say so. Foolish, maybe, but brave. Cheer up, a sore arse isn’t forever,” she added, and Ann found herself smiling.
-//-
Just past the door to the kitchen, Mrs. Jennings paused in the hall, experienced ears picking up every word. She nodded to herself just once in satisfaction. What the staff always needed to bring them together, she knew, was a good common enemy.