Annie Violet

Maisie Stone

Description

Annie-Violet is a young servant girl working long hours at a big country house. She is happy there, but the young girls can sometimes be at the mercy of unscrupulous menfolk at night. If they complain they are often summarily dismissed.Then Annie-Violet suddenly discovers a secret which shocks her to the core. She seeks help from her beloved Aunt Florrie, but her rebellious nature does not help the situation.She has a crush on Frederick the footman and is devastated to find he loves another. But when she meets William, a handsome young foreigner, everything changes...This tale lifts the lid on life below stairs in Edwardian England - with a twist.

Sujets

• Historical romance

Informations

• Publié par: Brown Dog Books
• Date de parution: 06 juillet 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781839523151
• Langue: English

Extrait

Annie-Violet
Annie-Violet
Her story as a servant girl in Edwardian times
MAISIE STONE
First published 2021
Copyright © Maisie Stone 2021
The right of Maisie Stone to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the copyright holder.
Published under licence by Brown Dog Books and
The Self-Publishing Partnership Ltd, 10b Greenway Farm, Bath Rd,
Wick, nr. Bath BS30 5RL
www.selfpublishingpartnership.co.uk

ISBN printed book: 978-1-83952-314-4
ISBN e-book: 978-1-83952-315-1
Cover design by Kevin Rylands
Internal design by Andrew Easton
Printed and bound in the UK
This book is printed on FSC certified paper
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my dear mother, Gladys Salter and her four sisters, Nan, Flo, Grace and Queen.
Although my mother was born in 1909 in Fulham, she spent a lot of her childhood in Kent during and after the Second World War.
My Auntie Nan was christened Annie-Violet, but known as Nan and she worked in service at a Big House in Kent for many years.
My aunties were a big part of my childhood during the war and I still remember their voices and faces today.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 1
Spring, 1909. Hampton Copse, a village in Kent.
‘Wake up, Annie, wake up! You’re needed at the Big House early today.’
Her mother shook Annie awake and she stirred, rubbing her eyes. ‘What’s happening? What’s the time?’
She banged a mug of tea by her bed unceremoniously. ‘It’s five o’clock. Rise and shine! There was a note put through the door late last night. There’s a lot of extra washing … they need you there by six o’clock!’
Annie groaned but reluctantly sat up in bed and began sipping her tea. She knew she was lucky to have a job, and a job at the Big House was prized in the village. But at times she wished it wasn’t such an early start.
Annie had been working there in the laundry for two months now. It was hard work in hot and steamy conditions and her hands had become red and raw through all the scrubbing and rough work, but she enjoyed it and got on well with the other girls in the laundry, Rose and Dora.
She had heard about the job through her Uncle Will, who worked at the Big House as a groomsman, and so she had jumped at the chance. Since she had left school last year she had just been helping her mother with her sewing and cooking and time had seemed to hang heavy.
Annie tumbled out of bed and began washing herself and brushing her auburn hair. It was very unruly and so she tied it back with a ribbon and dressed hastily, slipping her voluminous overall over her cotton dress. Her blue eyes stared back, still heavy with sleep, as she looked in the mirror. ‘Buck up, Annie-Violet, you’re due at work, so look smart!’
Her mother cut her a piece of bread thickly buttered before she left, but she knew she would be having a substantial breakfast later at the Manor, so that sufficed.
Grabbing her shawl, she began the half-mile walk up the country lane to Craven Manor. It was quite a cool wind blowing, but the sky was clearing and the sun was beginning to cast its early morning rays over the hedges. She was happy enough in the laundry at the moment, but at times she didn’t really feel part of the household staff, as it was set apart from the main house to keep the heat and steam away. Her ambition was to become a parlour-maid or better still, a lady’s maid, but she knew as she was only fourteen it would be a few years before this came about.
Annie noticed the clumps of primroses on the banks as she turned into the big gates of the Manor. The birds rustled in the trees building their nests, twittering happily. Flower-beds awash with daffodils and magnolia trees edged the driveway. And sweeping lawns and neat box hedges lay before the imposing Georgian mansion, Craven Manor, home to the Craven family for a hundred years.
She hurried up the driveway of the Big House and made her way to the laundry at the rear. She saw Ted the young gardener doing some weeding and gave him a wave. She had known him from schooldays. Rose and Dora were already there and they greeted her with their usual humour. ‘Come on, lie-a-bed, where have you been? We’ve been here ages. We’ve got bags to do today, they had a big party staying and they’ve got another lot coming on Friday. Come on, you start loading these sheets…’
The girls were lucky the family had invested in two modern big washtubs powered by an electric generator. ‘New-fangled things,’ her mother said scornfully. ‘They may be new-fangled things,’ Annie had retorted, ‘but they save us a lot of work.’ The generator also powered electric lights in some parts of the house. Large items like sheets could now be washed quite easily, then rinsed and put through the big mangle before being hung out on the line. But smaller or more delicate items of clothing still had to be washed by hand of course and rubbed on the washboard if very soiled.
The laundry was a cavernous room with high ceilings and dominated by the laundry racks that could be pulled up and down with a pulley system for drying and airing the clothes. Sinks were set along one side of the room and piles of dirty washing awaited them in several huge laundry baskets.
Annie’s heart sank as she stared at the mountain of crumpled garments and sheets. ‘I’m getting fed up with this lark,’ she thought. ‘Wish I could be working in the house.’ But the other girls were so nice; they all got on so well and were always having a laugh and a joke.
Before they knew it, the day had flown by, and now it was half past five, the girls were soon filing into the Servants’ Hall for tea and taking their allotted places at the long table. Annie remembered the first time she had partaken of supper at this table when she had just started at the Manor. There was quite a hierarchy at the table. The housekeeper and cook sat at one end and the butler at the other, with all the other younger servants spaced in between. Everyone stood up when the butler entered the room or a member of the family, which was very rare.
She had been amazed at the quantity of the food, compared with what they had at home, which was nourishing but sparse. They were given a substantial breakfast, a huge lunch and now this massive high tea.
Sometimes they would also have a lovely supper consisting of any food not eaten at the family’s dinner, wonderful cuts of meat, crab and salmon and delicate desserts, plus fine wines for the seniors. Once they had even had a fresh pineapple grown in the hothouse, the first time Annie had tasted such an exotic fruit. Mmm, it was delicious, so fresh, juicy and sweet.
Mrs Bury, the housekeeper, was talking to Miss Sylvie, Mrs Craven’s French personal maid, about the dress Miss Katherine was having made for the Presentation at Court in May and the other girls listened in awe at the details.
‘Yes, it will be silk, white of course, with a lacy over-skirt and small scalloped train and big, ‘ow you say? leg o’ mutton sleeves…’
All the girls murmured to each other, ‘How lovely, hope we can see it before she goes to London.’
‘Then she will ’ave ’er shoes covered in ze same material, of course,’ Miss Sylvie continued in her French accent, ‘it will be vairy special, she will be ze belle of ze ball. ’Er shoes will be decorated with seed pearls and diamante to match the bodice. Also, she will ’ave an ’ead-dress of some kind, but we ’aven’t quite decided what design that will be yet.’
All the girls gasped. ‘How lovely!’ And Miss Sylvie continued, ‘She is thinking about ’aving ostrich feathers on a satin band…’ The girls murmured amongst themselves in amazement. ‘Fancy!’
Miss Sylvie didn’t often grace the kitchen with her presence, so it was always extra special when she did. She tended to have a lot of her meals in her room, which was adjoining Mrs Craven’s boudoir, so that she could be called at any time by the mistress. She was a petite young woman, very demure and dainty and always dressed in beautiful fashionable clothes, made in Paris. Occasionally she could be a bit temperamental, but Mrs Craven valued her expertise and style.
Mrs Bury helped herself to some more bread and butter pudding and custard, licking her lips. ‘Not bad, this pudden, Mrs P.,’ she said to the cook, giving a rare compliment. ‘Nothing like plain English fare, that’s what I say.
‘Yes, the family will be away at their London address for five days in early May and Miss Sylvie will be going with them, won’t you, miss? Oh, and of course Mr Prentice and one of you footmen.’ The butler and footmen nodded. Mrs Bury looked round at the younger servants, her lips tightening.
‘So I don’t want no slacking while the mistress and master are away, oh no. Standards will be kept up and the place will be kept spick and span as usual, understood?’
Being a debutante was the pinnacle of a young woman’s life and the social events that took place in London during the Season following the Presentation at Court could well introduce her to her future husband. So it was important that a lady’s appearance and social standing were of the highest order.
Katherine was even now visiting dressmakers and London stores to make sure her wardrobe was of the highest fashion and quality, for it would be unheard of for a young woman to appear in the same outfit at different social events.
Alice and Mary,