Chapter Text
Two things lay on the small kitchen table in front of Audrey. One was the handful of shillings that she had left to keep her family on for the foreseeable future. The other was an advertisement in the Scarborough Times: a daily housekeeper position at Skeldale House, the veterinary surgery on the outskirts of town.
Her husband, whom she had loved so fiercely, whom she still loved, despite everything, had been unable to hold down a job for years now. The money Robert brought in came from periodic, inconsistent, unreliable odd jobs. It had been two weeks since he had last brought home anything, and he had diminished the remaining money with frequent trips to the pub. Audrey rubbed her head.
Then there was Edward, her darling son. Edward was nearly fourteen, and he would be leaving school imminently. Edward had no interest in work, unless it was on a boat. He had a hankering to go out on the trawlers that fished the North Sea. Robert had refused to countenance this.
“He’s not doing it and that’s final,” he had snarled one evening when Audrey had dared to bring up Edward’s ambitions again.
Audrey understood it, even if she didn’t agree with it. They had been kids together, Audrey, Robert and Charles, partners in arms and companions in adventures. Robert looked up to his older brother, idealised him and hero worshipped him. Charles had gone to sea when he was fifteen. Two years later, he’d gone overboard. The sea had never given up his body.
Audrey and Robert had clung together in their grief. Friendship and comradeship had turned to affection, to love. They’d married in haste before he was sent to the front in the Great War. On his last leave, she’d become pregnant. The man who returned to Audrey and their baby son had been broken in ways that she couldn’t understand.
All of this ran through Audrey’s mind as she surveyed the tiny pile of shillings. Rent was due soon. She had enough to cover the coming week and to feed them. The week after would be a struggle, unless-
She looked over the advert again. She knew she could do the job. She could ask her old friend Dorothy to give her a reference. Dorothy would write something glowing.
The problem was Robert.
Robert did not want her to work.
“I’m not having you wearing the trousers, Audrey,” he’d said when she’d tentatively suggested it before.
She bit her lips, thinking. There was no guarantee that she’d get the job, even if she applied. She’d do that, and cross any other bridges when she got to them. She’d call in tomorrow, and see what happened.
She folded the newspaper up deftly, counted the shillings back into the little box that she kept their money in, closed the lid and put it back on the shelf. Then she picked up her broom. The doorstep needed sweeping.
Skeldale House was imposing in the spring sunshine. Audrey stood at the bottom of the steps, gazing up at the pillars of the porch. The house was more than twice the width of her own little terrace. She swallowed nervously. She’d dressed up in her best for this; her Sunday coat and hat, her neatest dress, the shoes she kept for special occasions. And she still didn’t feel as if she could walk up the steps and knock on the door.
Then a man brushed past her, arms clasped around a dog, not sparing even a single word of apology as he rushed up the steps, opened the front door with a push and hurried into the house.
Of course, it was a veterinary surgery as well, she reminded herself. House and work, all in one. She gritted her teeth and climbed the stone steps. The man had rushed in, but he had an animal and she didn’t. She paused, then rang the doorbell.
It opened a moment later, and she found herself looking at a boy of about Edward’s age. “You don’t have to ring,” he said. “Surgery is open.” He studied her for a moment. “Where’s your animal?”
“I’m not – I’m here about the housekeeper position?”
His eyebrows raised. “Better come in,” he said, nodding his head. She stepped into a hallway that appeared to double as a waiting room – it seemed full of people clutching all manner of animals.
“Evelyn!” The lad shouted. “For you!” He had a cheeky smile as he watched her, and an air of confidence about him that she envied. “She won’t be a moment,” he said. “She’s doing lots of organising at the moment. Siegfried doesn’t want a housekeeper,” he confided.
“Oh,” she said blankly.
“Don’t worry. He does what Evelyn tells him.” There was a distant click of heels on tiles. “Here she is now.” He smiled at her again. “Good luck.”
And then the woman who had to be Evelyn appeared. Blonde, slim, tall, well dressed. She was so pretty that she took Audrey’s breath away, and she had the same casual confidence about her that the lad did. But Audrey didn’t have time to feel intimidated, because Evelyn approached with a calm smile. “For the housekeeper post?” she asked. “Come in, let’s have a chat.” She ushered Audrey past the waiting people and pets, and into a spick and span living room, which the entire ground floor of Audrey’s house could have fitted into easily.
“Mrs Farnon,” she said, shutting the door on the animals and holding out her hand to Audrey.
“Mrs Hall,” Audrey said, shaking the proffered hand.
“Please, sit down,” Evelyn – Mrs Farnon – said, gesturing to a comfortable armchair. Audrey sank down into it and Mrs Farnon sat neatly on the sofa.
“I brought my reference,” Audrey said, fishing into her bag for the reference that Dorothy had written for her the night before.
Mrs Farnon waved it off. “Later.” She fixed Audrey with a piercing look. Now that they were closer Audrey could see that the confidence of Mrs Farnon masked a hint of frailty. She was paler and thinner than she ought to be.
“Why are you interested in this post?” Mrs Farnon asked.
Audrey stowed her bag at her feet and clasped her hands together, trying to disguise the slight tremble in them. “I’m looking for a job,” she said, “and I like cooking and cleaning.” She cast a thought to the crowded hallway. “And animals,” she added.
Mrs Farnon smiled then, a brilliant thing, “That is important in this house,” she said with a laugh. “And are you – easily intimidated, Mrs Hall?” she asked.
Audrey raised an eyebrow. What could be intimidating about a housekeeping post? “Not by pots and pans and dirty floors,” she said, confused.
“What about… by grumpy and bad tempered men?” Mrs Farnon’s voice was light but her eyes were fixed on Audrey.
Audrey thought of Robert. She thought of her days in the Wrens. “They don’t worry me,” she said firmly. “But – why are you asking?”
“Because, though I love my husband dearly, he can be both grumpy and bad tempered,” her voice was still light, though Audrey sensed it was through sheer willpower.
“The boy who let me in – he said Siegfried doesn’t want a housekeeper?”
“Tristan, my brother in law, let you in. Siegfried-”
The door banged open then. A man maybe a few years older than Audrey and Mrs Farnon came in. With strawberry blonde hair, a neat beard and piercing eyes, he would have been attractive if he wasn’t scowling. “I don’t want a blasted housekeeper,” he said to Mrs Farnon. “We don’t need a housekeeper.”
“We do, Siegfried,” Mrs Farnon said patiently. “Mrs Hall, my husband.” She waved a hand at him.
“Siegfried Farnon, don’t ask,” the man said through gritted teeth. He stuck a hand out at Audrey and she shook it more firmly than she needed to.
“Audrey Hall,” she returned.
“Grrrr,” Mr Farnon said, and turned on his heel. The door slammed behind him and Mrs Farnon turned an expectant eye on Audrey.
And Audrey couldn’t help it. She let out a short, amused laugh. “He – he growled!”
“He does that,” Mrs Farnon said, her smile mirroring Audrey’s own. “Too much time with the animals, I think.” She stood up suddenly and Audrey copied her uncertainly. “Let me show you around, Mrs Hall. See what you think of the place.”
It was a maze.
The living room led to the dining room, and a curtained nook behind it. “Siegfried’s office,” Mrs Farnon said. “It’s – well, best left to him, I think.” Side by side, the women surveyed the overflowing desk, the piles of books and papers.
“How does he find anything?” Audrey wondered.
“He doesn’t,” Mrs Farnon said cheerfully.
Audrey exchanged a smile with her. She liked this beautiful woman who smiled easily and handled her husband so deftly. She had wanted the job for the pay. Now she wanted to get to know this lady better.
She followed Mrs Farnon down the corridor. There was a store cupboard that appeared to be a mix of cleaning supplies and veterinary equipment, then a small room filled with tiny bottles which they didn’t go in. “Dispensary,” Mrs Farnon said. “Best avoided.”
Then down and round and eventually they arrived in an enormous kitchen. Audrey gazed round wonderingly. This was another room that was the same size as the ground floor of her house. A bright, cheerful room with an aga, a stove, a huge table, a pantry, pots and pans and jars galore. To cook here would be a treat and no mistake.
“Do you like it?” Mrs Farnon asked, as Audrey turned slowly in the room, studying every angle.
“I love it,” she said honestly.
“If you don’t mind, we won’t go upstairs. There’s a few bedrooms and a bathroom, nothing unusual.” Mrs Farnon sank slowly into a chair at the table and Audrey realised that behind her smiles and laughs she was exhausted.
“Let me make you a cup of tea,” she said. She didn’t wait for a nod but got to work. The kettle was on the stove, a teapot and the tea in a jar beside it.
“Milk?” she asked Mrs Farnon.
“In the cold box in the pantry,” she said. “Make yourself one too, please.”
Audrey nodded. The kettle sang out and in no time the teapot was on the table with cups waiting ready.
“The fact is, Mrs Hall,” Mrs Farnon said, while they waited for the tea to steep, “I’m not very well. I can’t do what I used to around the house. We need a housekeeper. Siegfried is…” she trailed off.
“Worried?” Audrey offered quietly.
“Scared,” Mrs Farnon said with a sigh. “If we get a housekeeper, then it’s real, and he has to face it. When he’s scared, he shouts and gets angry. So I need somebody who won’t run away from that. Who can stand up to him.”
Audrey picked up the teapot and poured it out carefully, added milk to the two cups and passed one over to Mrs Farnon.
“I could stand up to him,” she said.
A smile played around Mrs Farnon’s mouth as she cupped her hands around her tea. “Mrs Hall, I rather think you could.”