Trapped In She Town : A Romantic Novella (The Jute Mills Series) (3 page)

Bessie burst out laughing “Carry it up the stairs. What are you
talking about? You are funny Mary. You just turn on them taps there” And she
brushed past Mary, leaned over the bathtub, and turned the brass coloured knobs
that were attached to the end of the bath. Mary was amazed, they had running
water inside the house.

“Right, you’ve got five minutes to get washed, so you’d better get
undressed and into the tub” Bessie ordered.

When Bessie had left the room and Mary looked in the mirror at
herself, she saw what everyone had been laughing at – her face was all covered
in puffs of black soot from the train journey, with tear tracks running down
from her eyes to her chin. She sighed resignedly and shook her head in dismay.

Once the tub was full of hot, steaming water and Mary had stripped
off her dirty clothes, she climbed into the small bathtub. She sighed again,
but this time with pleasure as she sank into the warm water. This felt like
bliss, and she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift away towards George
and his proposal. She wondered if he had got her letter yet and what he was
thinking. She knew he would wait the year. It wasn’t much longer than they had
planned to wait anyway. Mary felt her body tingle all over as she thought of
her handsome George, with his floppy brown hair. During the summer months, she
had often seen him working in the field alongside his father, with his shirt
stripped off. And she remembered vividly, the rippling muscles across his broad
back, his lean, tanned arms and his strong capable body.

She felt her nipples harden and an ache began to build in her groin.

“Time’s up Mary. Get a move on. The mistress wants to see you in
half an hour in the drawing room” shouted Bessie through the door.

Mary was reluctantly dragged back from her reverie and hurriedly
grabbed the bar of soap and wash cloth that Bessie had left for her, and washed
herself.

Back in the cramped bedroom, Bessie checked Mary’s hair for lice
before helping her to dress in her new uniform. Like Bessie’s, it was a grey
woollen dress with a white starched apron nipped in the centre so that it
showed off her tiny waist. Bessie helped her tie up her long, unruly chestnut
hair onto the top of her head, before pulling the white bonnet over it.

Mary’s thoughts drifted to George again. He had told her he loved
her hair. Whenever they had been alone together he had asked her to unpin it
and he would stare at her with such longing, that it took all of her strength
not to show him how much she loved him. But Mary knew she had to wait for her
wedding night to lose her virginity. She had seen what had happened to the other
girls who didn’t wait. Usually they were left holding the baby with no wedding
day to look forward to. That wouldn’t be happening to Mary Johnston, because
she knew that George loved her and respected her, and they would wait until
their wedding night.

“Come on then, Mary. Stop day-dreaming and let’s go down and meet
the dragon.” Mary gasped in shock at Bessie’s description of the mistress.

“Don’t look so shocked Mary. As I’ve said already, you’ll find out
soon enough that she breathes fire. Just always be attentive around the
mistress and you’ll be all right though.”

They travelled back down the spiral staircase, however this time
entering through a door into the magnificent reception hall. Mary gaped in awe
until Bessie dug her elbow into her ribs. She hurried her over to an ornate,
wood-paneled door and before Mary had time to start shaking, they knocked and
entered the room.

“Ah Smith, come in and stand over here” boomed an elegantly dressed
lady, sitting in an armchair near the window. Bessie in her role as personal
maid to the most important female in the house, namely Mrs Muir, was called by
her surname, whilst Mary would be called by her first name to show she was a
maid to a lesser female in the house, namely the daughter, Lucy. “Lucy dear,
here is your new maid, Mary”. Mrs Muir peered over the rim of her spectacles
and pursed her lips as if baffled at the sight before her.

“Now Mary, I know you have a lot to learn about the workings of a
fashionable house, but I trust that you will learn quickly and efficiently.”
Mrs Muir trilled before adding “We do not like slatterns here.”

Mary was shocked by the insinuation, however she managed to mutter a
“Yes Ma’am.”

“Speak up please” Mrs Muir boomed again.

“Yes Ma’am” she replied louder this time.

Lucy gushed “Oh Mary, we will have so much fun. I can’t wait until
this evening – you shall read some Bronte to me. Oh Mama, you were so clever to
find me such an adorable maid”.

Later, Bessie explained to Mary that the other housemaids did not
get the job of ladies maid as they had expected. Lucy had wanted more of a
companion, a maid who could discuss the literature with her when they read
together. Mary had come highly recommended from her former school teacher.
Bessie warned Mary that the housemaids however may be disgruntled with her to
begin with, but they would soon get over it.

As they left the drawing room, the front door opened and two tall,
slender gentlemen entered, one older with hair greying at the temples and one
younger, with raven black hair like Lucy’s. Bessie curtsied immediately and
tugged at Mary to do the same.

“Sir” Bessie said curtsying as she tugged on Mary’s arm to follow
her “and Master Edward.”

As she copied Bessie’s curtsy, she could feel the younger man’s eyes
boring into her. When she looked up, he was staring with an appreciative look
and a slight grin on his face. She stood rooted to the spot until Bessie
grabbed her arm and pulled her away through the door, towards the back
staircase and down the stairs.

“That was the master of the house, Mr Muir and his son Edward” said
Bessie. “That’s you met the whole family now”.  The family of four lived in
this huge house with a large array of servants to look after their every whim.
The servants consisted of a housekeeper, Mrs Smythe; the head butler Giles; the
cook, Mrs Bean; a valet for each of the gentlemen; the ladys’ maids;
housemaids; as well as the groomsman and the carriage driver. Mr Muir was the
owner of one of the largest jute mills in Dundee and the world.

~~~

Mary quickly settled into the routine of the house, and although she
dearly missed home, she never had enough time to herself to reminisce about
George. Every night she fell into bed exhausted and was asleep as soon as her
head hit the pillow. Even although she had been used to getting up early in the
mornings at home in Aberdeenshire, here she always had to be shaken awake by
Bessie at 5am to get up and ready for the day.

After washing and dressing herself, then making her bed, Mary would
hurry down to have some breakfast in the housekeeper’s room, before taking Miss
Lucy her early morning cup of tea. She would then arrange Miss Lucy’s room and
prepare her bath. While Miss Lucy was bathing, Mary would lay out all the items
in readiness for dressing and remain in the room to help Miss Lucy dress.

Firstly Mary would heat the curling irons and dress Miss Lucy’s
hair. Then she would help her into her first outfit of the day.

Miss Lucy would put on her drawers and chemise and then Mary would
help her with her corset, petticoat and her corset cover.  Once the bustle had
been arranged, Miss Lucy would step into her underskirt and she would then be
ready for the main outfit which was the one on show to the world. This usually
consisted of a matching silk skirt and bodice.

Once dressed, Miss Lucy would descend for breakfast and Mary would
again tidy the room and help the housemaid make the bed. Mary hated this part
of day, for it did not matter how hard she tried to be friendly with Elsie, the
housemaid, she was given the cold shoulder. As Bessie had explained to Mary on
her first day, Elsie believed she should have been given the job of lady’s maid,
having worked in the house for five years since she was twelve.

Mr Muir and Edward would leave the house around mid morning to head
to the factory. Edward was being mentored by his father in the business of
jute. There was a rumour in the house that he would be going to Calcutta soon,
to set up a new jute factory there, for the family. Mary and Bessie rarely saw
the gentlemen of the house.

During the day, guests would come and visit Mrs Muir and Lucy or
else they would order the carriage and visit some of the other jute owner’s
wives. Mary would be called upon, perhaps six times, during the day to help
Miss Lucy change her attire and to redress her hair.

On the days when Miss Lucy accompanied her mother to visit the wives
and daughters of the other mill owners, Mary was allowed an hour to herself, to
go out for a walk. Mary would hurry down the hill to Broughty Ferry, and walk
along the esplanade to the harbour and the little castle that stood at the
mouth of the Tay.

She would watch the sun bounce off the water of the vast river, and
Mary could see across to the sands that fringed the edge of Tentsmuir Forest
,which lay on the other side of the river, in Fife.

Mary was also given every fourth Sunday afternoon off. On these
mornings, she would help to dress Miss Lucy as usual. However, after the family
had attended church, they would then travel to Forfar to visit Mrs Muir’s
parents, not returning to Tay View House until 8pm. Mary would then help an
exhausted Miss Lucy up to her room and get her ready for bed. On these evenings
Miss Lucy was always too tired for Mary to read to her, and so Mary herself was
able to retire on these evenings by nine thirty.

On her first such afternoon off, Mary didn’t feel too adventurous,
and decided she would walk as usual down to the esplanade at Broughty Ferry and
walk along to the castle. Bessie had told her that there were beautiful sand
dunes further along the shore and as she had the afternoon to herself, Mary was
keen to take a look at them. So she would continue her walk past the castle and
along by the sand dunes.

She was in good spirits as she tied her bonnet on, tucking in all
the stray bits of her chestnut hair, then she buttoned up her coat as it was a
rather blustery day. When she got downstairs, the other maids were heading out
together, but they all ignored Mary and headed off down the path. The cook, Mrs
Bean, was just doing up her coat as she was going to visit her sister in
Dundee.

“What are you going to do on your afternoon off, love” Mrs Bean
asked kindly.

“Oh, I want to walk down past the castle and see the dunes” said
Mary “ Bessie says they go for more than a mile”.

“Och you could probably follow them all the way up the coast to
Aberdeen. Well, I hope you have a crackin day, Mary my lass. But make sure
you’re home by seven, ready for the family to return” she warned.

“Yes Mrs Bean” said Mary and she headed out the door.

She hurried down the path towards the small green door in the wall.
As she stepped through the doorway, a hand grabbed her, and Mary pulled away
instinctively. “Mary doll, how are you? Where are you off too? Come with me on
the steamer to Newport. It will be so much fun.”

It was John, the groomsman. He was grinning so broadly at Mary that
all the skin around his eyes was crinkled.

“Thank you John, but I’ve already got plans for today” replied Mary
firmly. “I’m going to walk down to the front at Broughty Ferry and see the sand
dunes.”

John looked disappointed but quickly recovered. “That’s not very
exciting Mary. There’s a big, bad world out there just waiting to be explored.
Come on, I’ll race you to the tram.”

“No John. I’ve already got my plans” countered Mary.

“Well, let me join you then” he quickly returned.

“No!” Mary shouted louder than she had meant to. “I would like to be
alone” she said more quietly and she quickly hurried in the direction of
Broughty Ferry and did not look back.

John watched her walk along the road. She was a fine looking woman
he thought. Something wild and untamed about her. He was hooked. He would just
have to be patient with her and take his time. But he was sure there was no one
else in the world for him but Mary Johnston, now that he had met her.

~~~

John was 5’ 7” tall with fair hair and a light moustache. His eyes
were a lovely blue like cornflowers however the right eye had a slight defect.
He was a migrant worker from Ireland, who had come over to Dundee to work in
the jute mills. One day Mr Muir had seen John while on his break, talking with
the horses in the yard of the mill. The older man saw that the younger one had
a calming way with the horses as they stood nuzzling him. He called the lad
over and spoke with him. It transpired that John had worked with horses in his
native Ireland, and as Mr Muir was in need of a new groomsman, John had been
told to report the next day to the mansion in Broughty Ferry. He had worked at
the big house ever since.

Four weeks later, John was there again waiting for Mary, this time
at the top of the path. “Here Mary” he said pushing a posy of daffodils in her
hand, “for you. Look what a beautiful day it is. A perfect day for taking the
steamer boat over the River Tay to Newport.” And he was right, the sun was
splitting the pavements.