Consoling Words for a Death in the Family Reddit

  A Expiry IN THE Family unit

CAROLINE DUNFORD

Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2013

ISBN 9781909520943

Copyright © Caroline Dunford 2013

The right of Caroline Dunford to be identified equally the writer of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

The story independent within this book is a piece of work of fiction. Names and characters are the production of the writer'due south imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or expressionless, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval organisation, or transmitted in any form or by any ways, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Printing Ltd, The Onetime School, Upper Loftier St, Bedlinog, Mid Glamorgan, CF46 6RY.

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Contents

Affiliate One

Chapter 2

Chapter Three

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter Seven

Affiliate Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter 10

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Author'southward Note

For the boys, Grand and X, who are in equal parts inspiring and distracting, only always wonderful, and for Graham, without whom then much would not have been possible

Affiliate 1

Serious Consequences

In December 1909 England was gearing up for a full general ballot, Russia was rumbling with the undercurrent of revolution, and my father – the very Reverend Joshia Peter Martins – expired, face downwardly, in his dish of mutton and onions leaving Mother, myself and my younger brother Joe at the whim of Bishop Pagget.

Quite in grapheme Mother was more concerned with the immediate rather than long-term consequences. 'Why did he not telephone call for the dishes to exist removed before port?' she had cried when our housekeeper had summoned usa to the fateful table. 'To be found among such mutual fare. Oh, Joshia!' As it was rare for her to use his Christian name I immediately realised this was my mother in deep despair.

'He looks very peaceful,' I offered tactfully. In fact, my male parent looked if annihilation deeply relieved. He had the aspect of a homo who had welcomed death, albeit he had constitute it among the gravy, and this helped me conduct the awful, wrenching pain I felt at his loss.

'Oh, Euphemia, if just your male parent …'

'At that place was actually nothing he could exercise almost it,' I countered fairly.

My mother lifted a haughty countenance at me. 'Do non interrupt, immature lady. It is not at all becoming. I was going to say if just your father had not been a vicar.'

'I'k certain he didn't take the determination lightly, Mother.'

'I accept no way of knowing. It was before he met me,' Mother paused and then shook her head. 'It actually will not do. I volition write to your grandfather.'

'I will exist only too delighted if he offers to help us, simply yous have been writing to that homo for most of my life, Female parent, and he has never bothered to reply.'

'He is not "that man", Euphemia. He is your grandad.'

'He has never behaved equally one,' I declared, grief lending my tone a sharpness I did not intend.

'Just similar your father,' my female parent snapped and left.

Despite my glossy, abundant anecdote pilus and clear, grey intelligent optics, I fear at 18 I am not – nor ever will exist – my mother'southward ideal of a skilful daughter. Between u.s. lay the non inconsiderable hours I had spent at my father's side in his study, while he taught me what he could of the world; how to think analytically and what picayune he had grown to understand of the human soul during his fourth dimension as a man of the cloth. My mother considered intelligence 'equally much use on a immature girl every bit a pair of hooves and nigh as attractive'. I in one case pointed out how this could occasion a very great saving on shoes and Pa had to stand by as I was sent to bed without supper. Mother and Pa were non close, simply without Pa all our futures were dangerously uncertain. The eviction letter was sent by his secretarial assistant the twenty-four hours after my father's death.

So while Female parent retired to her room to grieve and go on her one-sided correspondence with my grandfather, I took decisive activeness. I began to write letters of my ain to various country houses. I cannot say where the idea came from. It was certainly born of agony, but I confess at this bespeak information technology appealed to my sense of romanticism which I have failed to repress despite witnessing the upshot of my parents' love-friction match.

Naturally, I took precautions to protect my identity. I directed all answers to the nearby post office and chose a nom-de-feather. I told the post mistress I was collecting letters for my cousin, who was to join us shortly. This blatant falsehood cost me some slumber, simply I doubted anything would transpire of the scheme.

So, I was somewhat taken aback when, later on a alluvion of rejections, I received a positive answer. How on earth would I tell Mother?

As it happened it was Piffling Joe who let my secret out of the bag. I was in my room thinking of what I would take with me, when my brother barrelled through the door and bolted nether the bed. 'I'g lamentable, Effie,' he called. 'I didn't mean to give you away.'

My mother'due south voice rose up through the hall. 'Euphemia Martins, come downstairs at once!'

I aptitude down and looked nether the bed. My brother scuttled backwards with the speed of a spider escaping a broom. 'Joe, what have you done?'

'I didn't mean to. Mother kept going on about what were we to practice and how you weren't any help hiding in your room. I didn't recall it was fair, so I might accept permit slip nearly your great take a chance.'

'Dandy take chances?'

'I found i of your letters. I think information technology's a yard idea, Effie. You could encounter a rich nobleman and he could fall in love with y'all and give yous jewels and a great house and no one deserves information technology more than you, Effie. You lot're quite pretty, you know, for a sister. Peradventure you lot'd even be able to buy me the wooden soldier ready Pa had promised me for my altogether.'

'Oh, Joe! Yous had no business …'

I heard our creaky stairs moan nether the approaching weight of my mother, resplendent in her heavy widow's weeds.

Mother arrived at my door and paused, night and looming, on the threshold to make an impression. Mother retains the hereditary ability to make her presence felt despite being a mere whisker over 4 foot-x.

'Euphemia, I will not eyebrow such disgrace.'

At her tone my brother edged farther under my bed.

'We need to swallow, Mother.'

'Euphemia! A young girl knows nothing of such things.'

'Female parent, we all get hungry. Particularly Picayune Joe.'

Female parent hesitated. Little Joe helpfully popped his angelic, curly topped features out from under the bed. Mother heaved a smashing sigh and folded herself downwards onto the mattress similar some giant, despairing black velvet fan.

'It's non as if I volition exist using my real proper noun,' I offered. 'And you do have to leave the vicarage. I can help with the rent also every bit Joe's schooling.'

Joe pulled a face up at me.

'We have to get out hither in 2 weeks.' Female parent turned on her heel, calling for Joe to come up practice his Latin, and left without a backward glance. She knew equally well equally I how drastic our situation was becoming.

A week later no letter had arrived. My female parent'due south confront closed in upon itself and Little Joe, try as he might, could

not conjure up antics to brand her smile. Instead she threw herself into the business concern of packing. Finally, she began to make enquiries no lady should always accept to make – apropos cottages for rent. I, in my turn, made my decision and wrote the letter that would seal my future.

It was early on i bound morning when Mother and I met in the hallway, each of us with our ain serious news. Every bit usual Female parent went commencement.

'I have institute a cottage, Euphemia. Information technology will not be what nosotros are used to, but it is small and neat with a yard for chickens and infinite for two pigs and a goat. I believe goat's milk to be nearly nutritious. I have taken information technology on a three-month term and we volition take possession next Tuesday. I accept made enquiries in the village and have already gained four students for the pianoforte. I expect the number to ascension once I am established. Of course, I will have to continue Joe'southward education myself, just I hope in time we will again be able to afford a tutor. Peradventure you would be so kind as to select from your male parent's study the books you feel will be most suitable?'

I had some idea of what this request had cost her. 'Does Bishop Pagget non require a full inventory?'

My mother had the grace to blush every bit she replied, 'We will suit it accordingly.' I had no problem of depriving the old Port-and-Bluster (as my father had called him), but I was surprised at my mother'southward decision. It must take showed in my face.

'Really, Euphemia, yous are usually more than ready to flout convention!'

Now was the fourth dimension to tell her. I could non find the words. Instead, I stepped aside and revealed my bag, standing behind me, and packed full of all I could not bear to leave. My female parent's hand stole to her mouth. 'You lot haven't,' she gasped.

'I am sad, Mother. I take taken a position at Stapleford Hall.' I half-expected a dramatic declaration that I was no longer her daughter. Her reaction took me by complete surprise.

My female parent embraced me. 'I'm sad,' she whispered so softly I could not exist sure of the words. Then she stepped back and said, much in her normal manner, 'I hope information technology is at least a senior maid. It would exist ridiculous for y'all to give up all your chances to earn no more than I shall be paying a daughter that does.'

'I will exist a maid with upstairs responsibilities.'

My female parent made a most unladylike noise. 'Stapleford Hall. Aping the great houses.'

'I remember that's why they take taken me. I take no references. But I am intelligent and I accept hope my employer will notice this. I intend to ascent to the position of housekeeper quite swiftly.'

Female parent sighed. 'You are very naive, Euphemia. Fortunately I shall not be far abroad when y'all discover yourself evicted from the business firm. The cottage is in Trivial Crosshore. You will always have a place with Little Joe and I,' Mother said grandly, although at this signal we both knew that it would be near-on impossible for her to maintain the rent on a property as she had described without help from my wages. I didn't call up she would make the nearly popular of music teachers.

'I will render dwelling to visit whenever my employer allows.'

'Whenever your employer allows? Never did I retrieve to hear a daughter of mine utter such words.'

Mother was growing dramatic. I judged it time to make a smart exit. I assured her Stapleford Hall had arranged for a carrier to pick me upwards at the square – triggering yet more lamentations '… a common carrier'. I kissed Joe farewell and promised him his soldiers. Then I stepped out into the bright morn of 8 January 1910, and prepared to leave behind me non only my one-time life, but my name. The air was sharp as lemon on my peel and the current of air whipped a tear into my optics, but more than than whatever other emotion, I am ashamed to say, the one that was uppermost in my eye equally I left my childhood home behind, was excitement – excitement at this new start.

My excitement was slightly dampened both literally and figuratively by the tempest that opened over me that day. It took the carrier longer than he expected to go the old cart down increasingly muddied lanes, but as the afternoon approached evening we finally entered the long tree-lined drive that was the obligatory foreshadowing of all the new corking houses. I was dropped halfway along as the carrier was turning off to the estate subcontract. Nonetheless, the trees gave some shelter from the storm and, although I at present had to lug my own numberless along, at least water was no longer running down the back of my neck and spouting out through my sleeves as it had been for much of the twenty-four hours.

The sight of Stapleford Hall was all that I had hoped for. Information technology was a large firm built forth the lines of the bang-up houses, only more compact, modern and with warm, buttery calorie-free blazing from all three floors. My welcome, if it could exist called such, was not so inspiring.

'Euphemia St John! Hardly a name for a serving daughter. Born on the wrong side of the blanket, were yous? I won't have whatsoever arrogance and graces on my staff.'

The woman in front of me was tall, thin and had a face up like a one-half-starved crow; an effect compounded past the weight of sheer and unusually shiny dark hair wound tightly round her head. Her lips were the veriest sliver of pink against a pale, angular confront that was augmented by a pair of small black optics. She was the very last person I would accept called to help make my house a home. I dripped forlornly onto the unbeaten library carpeting, tried not to be besides distracted by the vast assortment of books, and hoped the fact I had began to shiver from common cold would go in my favour. I had already noticed the desk lamp badly needed polishing and this gave me promise.

'Well, girl, do yous have a tongue in your caput?'

'You could call me Amelia, miss. Information technology's my second name.' I hadn't been foolish enough to change my Christian proper name. I was a girl without references and one who did not know her own proper name might shortly find herself being investigated by the local constabulary.

'Mrs Wilson. All housekeepers and cooks are addressed equally Mrs. Y'all would know that if y'all'd ever been a maid before as your letter claimed.'

'Yep, Mrs Wilson.' I hung my head. 'Yous are correct.'

The crow adult female sniffed loudly. 'Yous volition find, should I choose to utilise y'all, that I am always right. Though why I should employ a liar – requite me one practiced reason.'

'I do know the way things should be done, Mrs Wilson. I might not take been a maid before just …'

The door opened behind the states admitting two gentlemen, who were in the process of arguing. 'All I'yard proverb is the old geezer was my uncle too,' complained a big thick-set man with cerise pilus and a voice thickened by the over-employ of port.

'He was my godfather, Dickie,' replied the shorter man. Both men were in evening dress, just my eye was quick to see that the second human being, though arguably less handsome than the man-Viking, had taken greater intendance over his tie and neatly oiled black locks.

'Information technology'due south all very well, old boy,' blustered the Viking, 'but some of united states of america have to damn well work for a living. All this health … hi, what'due south this, Mrs Wilson? Why is at that place a dab of a girl dripping on my Pater'southward carpet?'

I clenched my teeth, but kept my head down.

'I'm sorry to disturb you lot, Mr Richard. I was under the impression the family were all having cocktails. This girl was to have been the new maid.'

'Was?' enquired the shorter man.

'It has become apparent she is not what she says she is. I doubt she has e'er done a solar day'south work in her life.'

The shorter man approached me. 'May I?' he asked and lifted my hands. He had a light touch and extraordinarily long and delicate fingers. He traced gently around the border of my index fingers and across my palms. 'A young adult female used to writing, riding and light work would be my approximate.'

The Viking barked out a laugh. 'Someone's discarded fancy-piece, Mrs Wilson. Won't do at all.'

My head jerked up at the insult. The shorter human being met my gaze and released my easily. 'I don't believe so, Dickie.'

'A by-accident so?'

'Do you discover yourself without protection?' asked the human being in forepart of me. His tone was cool and appraising, but I thought I detected sympathy in his eyes.

'My begetter died …' I stopped, suddenly ove

rcome. I was cold. I was hungry. I had never felt more vulnerable. I wanted food. I wanted a bed and I wanted a big stick to crush the Viking for his insolence, but Mother and Fiddling Joe were depending on me. I swallowed my pride. 'There was no provision for me in his will.'

'So who was this estimable begetter of yours, young lady?' asked Dickie.

'I would prefer not to say, sir.'

'You're right, Mrs Wilson. Tin can't have a liar on the staff. Send the girl packing.'

'As you wish, Mr Richard.'

'Wait,' said the other man. 'Expect at me, girl. Is information technology a matter of award that you cannot disclose your father's name?'

I met his gaze squarely, 'Yes, sir.' My censor pricked me, but I held my head upward. The shorter man turned away to the others. 'In which case, Mrs Wilson, I do non call back it unreasonable that the daughter be given a trial. It is not as if we are overflowing with servants at present.'

Mrs Wilson bristled. 'If you choose to be taken in, Mr Bertram, then in that location is nothing I tin can do. I'll nowadays the case to the Mistress in the morning. If yous would excuse united states. Come, girl.' She opened a console that I had taken to be real books and ushered me into a servants' passageway. 'Yous might have fooled Mr Bertram, my girl, only you haven't fooled me,' she hissed in my ear. 'We'll see what the Mistress has to say nearly y'all. She's not 1 to exist taken in.'

She pushed me hard in the small of the dorsum and I stumbled into darkness. The door closed behind us with a well-oiled click. I stopped in my tracks as the lite from the library vanished. Ahead of usa a soft clamouring of metal upon metal could be heard. Mrs Wilson shoved me again. 'Get moving, daughter. Any real servant would have known not to plough up minutes before dinner needs to be served.'

I stumbled on not wishing to be trapped in the darkness whatsoever longer than was necessary with the harpy backside me. In only a few moments my eyes adjusted and I could see that, equally in the proverbial maxim, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Equally we grew nearer to the egress the soft noises became harsher and interspersed with the barking cries of an aroused woman.

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