“I live here now. I work down in the scullery. Your window was open and I heard you crying, so I wanted to cheer you up. Why don’t you come outside with me? Whenever I feel sad, it always helps me to go outside.”
“Mother is angry with me. I’m meant to stay in my room.”
“Well, I’m meant to be scrubbing pots but I don’t always do what I’m meant to do. The rain finally stopped and the sun is shining for once. Come on.”
Audrey hesitated, then climbed off the enormous bed and followed Eve to the door.
“You still owe me a picnic lunch, remember?” Eve said, turning to her. “But I won’t claim it today.” She led Audrey down the hall, to the servants’ door.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“I can’t go down the main staircase. I would get lost, for one thing, since I’ve never been in your part of the house before. And for another thing, Robbins would shoot me on sight if he caught me. Follow me.”
She led Audrey down the back stairs, pausing to listen when they reached the bottom. Silence. Most of the servants rested in the afternoon before the rush of preparations for the evening meal. “Can you run?” Eve asked. “We have to make a dash through the kitchen to the back door before Tildy sees us. Ready?” She didn’t give Audrey time to reply before sprinting across the room and through the door. Miss Audrey followed at a dainty jog. Eve led her through an opening in the hedge and into the formal gardens, then collapsed on a patch of grass beside the fountain. “It’s beautiful in here, isn’t it?”
“I can’t run as fast as you,” Audrey said, panting.
“Nobody can. I was always the fastest runner in school at the end-of-term races. I won all the prizes.”
“I dare not be gone for very long,” Audrey said after she’d caught her breath again. “And I mustn’t get my school uniform dirty.”
“Let’s just sit here for a few minutes, then. I love all the different kinds of flowers, don’t you? So many colors! I would spend all my time in this garden if I were you.”
“You never told me your name the last time we met.”
“You never asked. It’s Eve. Eve Dawson.” Tears flooded her eyes as she remembered what else had happened the day they’d met.
“What’s wrong?” Audrey asked.
“When I got home from our picnic that day, I found Granny Maud . . . I thought she was asleep but she was already in heaven.” Eve paused, waiting for the tremor in her voice to go away. Her grief was still a raw wound, even after all these months. “I couldn’t live all alone, so Mum got me a job here as a scullery maid.”
“That’s sad. I’m sorry about your grandmother.”
“Me, too.” Eve scrubbed her eyes to rub away her tears. “Why were you crying just now?”
Audrey heaved an enormous sigh. “Mother is furious with me. I was so miserable and homesick at my boarding school that I became ill. The headmistress had to ring up Mother and tell her to send Williams to bring me home. I did what you said, at first. I told Mother I didn’t want to board there and I begged her to let Williams drive me every day. She refused.” Audrey sounded as if she might start crying again. “All the other girls board there, and Mother said I would never make friends unless I did, too. But the school term is nearly over and I still don’t have a single friend! They all have their own little groups and they either ignore me or play mean tricks on me. Last night they put dead beetles in my bed.”
Eve looked away to hide a smile as Audrey gave another sob. Beetles and mice skittered around the scullery all the time. Eve wasn’t afraid of them.
“Mother says I’m being stubborn and childish,” Audrey continued, “but she doesn’t realize how lonely I am. I want to sleep in my own bed in Wellingford Hall, not in a room with all those horrid girls!” She started crying again.
Eve wanted to be patient. But it wasn’t as if someone in Audrey’s family had died. She was merely feeling sorry for herself. If Granny Maud were here, she would say there were plenty of people in this world who were worse off than Audrey was. She would add that, rich or poor, God had a reason for putting everyone in the place where He wanted them to be.
When Eve had enough of her sniveling, she said, “Miss Audrey? Hold out your hand. Palm down, this time.” Audrey gave a little frown and wiped a tear but she did what Eve said. Her skin was smooth and as white as milk, as delicate as a lily petal. Eve stretched out her own hand and held it next to Audrey’s. “Look how different our hands are.”
“Why is your skin all red and cracked like that?”
“From cleaning pots and washing floors and scrubbing your front steps every morning.” She stood and helped Audrey to her feet. “Come on, I want to show you something else.” She led her out of the garden, back into the kitchen, and through the arched doorway that led into the scullery. Flaking plaster covered the low ceiling and stone walls. Large flagstones paved the uneven floor. It had only one tiny window—the one Eve had crawled through. Tin washtubs teetered in piles along with stacks of dented buckets for carrying hot water from the kitchen range. At night, only a single oil lamp lit the space. Mice hid in the corners and sometimes darted past Eve’s feet. “Have you ever been down in this part of your house before?” she asked.
Audrey took a step back. “No. It’s like a cave!”
“This is where I work every day,” Eve said. “I wake up before the sun and finish scrubbing the last pot after dark. But you don’t hear me sobbing and crying and feeling sorry for myself, do you? Things are the way they are. Granny Maud used to say, ‘It doesn’t do any good to sit in the mud and mope. Either get up and wash yourself off or get used to the puddle.’” Eve heard the jingle of keys, a warning that the housekeeper was coming. She wanted to pull Audrey into the scullery and hide but it was too late. Mrs. Smith had spotted them.
“Miss Audrey! What in the world are you doing down here?”
Audrey looked like a startled fawn, even though she wasn’t the one who would be in trouble. “I would love to have your terrible life, Miss Audrey,” Eve said, hurrying to finish what she wanted to say. “I would be glad to go to your school—or any school—but I have to work down here. And I would love to have your nice clothes and your shelves full of books and your grand, big house, but I’ll never have any of those things, even if I live to be a hundred.”
Audrey seemed frozen in shock. Eve wondered if she’d even heard what she said. Mrs. Smith gave Eve a withering glare before resting her hand on Audrey’s shoulder and gently steering her away from the scullery. “Come. You belong upstairs, Miss Audrey.”
“I try not to think about all the things I don’t have,” Eve continued, speaking louder now as she followed behind. “My daddy is dead, Granny Maud is gone, and I can’t live in our little cottage anymore. But it’s not so bad here. Mum and I have a lot of friends. We’re saving our money so I can take a typing course and get a job in the village or maybe even London.”
Mrs. Smith paused when they reached the steps leading up to Miss Audrey’s part of the house and gave Eve a stern look. “That’s enough, Eve. Go back to work.” Instead, Eve followed them up the stairs to the baize-covered door.