Anna's Return Read online

  “Of course, darling. Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a grouch. It’s just that when you told me about her I didn’t expect we’d have to bring her up.”

  Sir Lionel did not answer. He walked away without saying a word to anyone.

  An hour later, Janek was walking down the drive with money in his pocket and some food that Mrs Palmer had insisted on packing for him. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said, “I know a man who can get butter and cheese on the black market. Sir Lionel doesn’t mind as long as his table is well-stocked.”

  “Janek!” Anna ran after him, and when he turned, she flung herself into his arms. “Please don’t forget me, Janek.”

  “I won’t forget you. Hey, you saved my life.”

  “Promise me that when the war is over, you’ll come back. We can live as brother and sister. Say you will, Janek. You’re my only friend.”

  “Yes, I’ll come back and we can be brother and sister.”

  “I love you, Janek.”

  “Take care, little one.”

  He had believed it would be very easy to relinquish responsibility for her. After all, he had only saved her to salve his own conscience, and he could tell himself without a stain on his conscience he had succeeded in that aim. But as he walked away, leaving her in a home where she would not be loved or appreciated, and knowing that he had lied about returning for her one day, he felt a lump in his throat and tears stinging his eyes.

  Chapter Three

  “And when you’ve finished changing the beds, Anna, would you mind dusting the furniture in your father's … in Sir Lionel’s study?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Palmer,” said Anna. It had long been impressed upon both of them that neither Anna nor anyone else in the house was to refer to Sir Lionel as Anna’s father. But Mrs. Palmer clung to her belief that Sir Lionel should properly recognise his daughter, so was apt to slip up from time to time.

  “I hate asking you to do these things,” said Mrs. Palmer. “It’s not right that the daughter of knight should be expected to clean rooms and live in servant’s quarters.

  Anna smiled. It was a regular refrain and had been for the eight years she had lived at Silverton Hall. “I don’t mind,” she said. “It keeps me busy, and I like helping you after all you’ve done for me.”

  “Oh, I’ve done nothing. At least not more than a real Christian would do in the circumstances. Not that there’s much Christian charity around this house.” She sniffed loudly. She spoke more gently. “You’re a good girl. It would make my heart happy to see you sitting properly at your father’s table, being courted by handsome young noblemen.

  The eight years had seen Anna grow from a scrawny child into a very pretty young woman. It had also seen the end of the war. “I’m not interested in noblemen, handsome or otherwise.”

  “Oh, you’re not still hoping for young Janek to return are you, dear?”

  Anna smiled. “No, I got over that a long time ago. He lied to me. But I think he did it for the right reasons. I was not his responsibility and he had other more important things to do. Did you see that he won a medal for bravery?”

  “Yes, I saw it the last dozen times you showed me the piece in the paper,” said Mrs. Palmer, patting Anna on the shoulder.

  Anna sat down on the edge of the bed. Any of the other housemaids doing such a thing would have heard the sharp edge of Mrs. Palmer’s tongue, but not Anna. Besides, Mrs. Palmer knew that Anna worked harder than any of them. It was as if she felt the need to prove something. “I just wish he’d have replied to my letters,” she said, becoming glum. The only time she ever looked unhappy was when she thought of Janek. She could easily ignore the daily insults from her stepmother and the indifference from her father. But Janek refusing to even answer her letters was painful to her, even if she did understand that all they were to each other was two children who had shared a terrifying experience a long time ago.

  “I’m pretty sure that flying around in the sky, giving Hitler what for, didn’t give him much time for letter writing,” said Mrs. Palmer. “Now come on, these beds won’t make themselves.”

  Anna knew that Mrs. Palmer did not mean it unkindly. She just hated to see Anna upset. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” she said to the housekeeper, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Oh, go away with you girl. I haven’t got time for sloppy stuff.” Nevertheless when Mrs. Palmer left the room, she secretly wiped a tear from her eye.

  Anna continued with her work, and as she had every day for eight years, she wondered what Janek was doing. Had he returned to Poland? Or did he live in Britain? It was possible he had found a nice girl to marry. Anna felt no jealousy on that score. She thought of Janek more as a friend or older brother. If he had married, she thought she would rather like to be aunty to his children, on account of him not having any other family left. Being a part of Janek’s family was an idle fantasy that she often conjured up to get herself through the days of living as an outsider in her real family’s home.

  When she had finished the bedrooms, she went downstairs and started dusting her father’s study, first ensuring he was not in there. He did not like to be disturbed whilst working, although once or twice when Anna had inadvertently disturbed him, it seemed that he only stared into space. The study was out of bounds to everyone, so she wondered if Sir Lionel went there to escape rather than to work.

  “Anna!” A young fair-haired boy of about eight came bounding down the stairs and through the study door.

  “Morning, Teddy, how are you this morning?”

  “I’m very well, thank you, Anna. I’ve got a new airplane.” Teddy Silverton, Anna’s half-brother, waved a toy plane in the air. “I’m just about to go and bomb a city somewhere. Which city shall I bomb?”

  “Oh dear, that won’t be very nice for the people living there, will it? Why don’t you just fly over the city and marvel at the sights? I hear that cities look lovely from the air, especially at night with all the lights on.”

  “That’s boring, Anna. You’re no fun.”

  “That’s because I’m rather busy, Teddy. I don’t really have time to plan bombing raids.” Anna had dusted the bookshelves, and moved on to the desk.

  “Well, will you try and make time later? I’ve no one else to play with and Mama doesn’t mind you playing with me as she says it keeps me quiet.”

  “Very well, Teddy. I’ll play with you in the garden after lunch if the weather is fine. But only if Mrs. Palmer can spare me.”

  “I’ll go and ask her now. She has to do anything I tell her to, because I am the son and heir.”

  “Teddy!”

  “What?” Teddy looked bemused. “That’s what Mama says.”

  “I’m sure she does,” said Anna, tight lipped. “Whilst it’s true that Mrs. Palmer is a servant that does not mean that you can treat her unkindly or unfairly. She is still a person, Teddy.”

  “She’s a very old person.”

  Anna laughed. “No, I think she’s about fifty. That’s not very old. It’s younger than Papa … I mean younger than your Papa.” She had no idea how much Teddy knew about who she really was. It was something Geraldine did not like mentioned in front of her son.

  “It’s alright, Anna, I know you’re my half-sister. I heard Mama arguing with Papa about it. I promise that as I have a sister who is a servant, I shall be very nice to all servants in future.”

  Anna wanted to hug the child, but dare not. “That’s a very good way to behave, Teddy. I think you’ll make a very good son and heir.”

  “I hope so.” Teddy became glum. “It seems rather a lot of fuss. Papa tried to tell me the other day how I must look after the estate. He showed me rows and rows of numbers. Anna…”

  “What is it, dear?”

  “I’m not terribly good at sums, and there were an awful lot of them. What if I can’t do it properly?”

  “Well,” said Anna, walking over to him and putting her hands on his shoulders, “since you don’t have to start work on the esta
te immediately, and probably have at least another ten years before you do, I shouldn’t worry about it. Now go on. Out in the garden to play so I can get on with my work.”

  “You’re a peach,” said Teddy, reaching up and kissing her cheek. “When I’m in charge, I shall let you be a proper lady and find you a prince or lord to marry.”

  “I wish people would stop trying to fix me up with nobility,” said Anna, laughing.

  Teddy ran out in the hall. As Anna followed his progress to the front door, she saw her step-mother standing nearby, glaring at her.

  Geraldine walked into the study, slamming the door behind her. “You need not think that by getting yourself into Edward’s good graces that you can change your position here,” she said, haughtily. “You are not fit for anything other than the servant’s hall.”

  “I understand that,” said Anna, determined not to be browbeaten. “Teddy…”

  “Master Edward to you.”

  “I apologise. Master Edward was only being kind. He’s just a little boy, and doesn’t mean half of what he says.”

  “As long as you know that. Be aware that as soon as your father dies, you will not continue to live in this house. It is an outrage that you do live here, reminding me of your father’s relationship with that … that…”

  “Whatever happened between my mother and father happened before he met you,” said Anna. “It is not their fault that the snobbish values in this country prevented them from marrying when they were in love.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that? I know what you’re about, sneaking around your father’s study so that you can find out if he’s made provision for you in his will. Well I can tell you now that he has not so you’re wasting your time.”

  Anna was infuriated by the injustice in Geraldine’s words. She had no interest in inheriting from her father. The only reason she stayed on at Silverton Hall was because she had nowhere else to go. “I am not snooping,” she said, clenching her hands into a fist to try and stem the growing anger and despair.

  If Geraldine believed she was and passed on that gossip to Sir Lionel, Anna might well find herself out on the street. Not for the first time in the eight years since she had come to Silverton Hall did she ponder on how fragile her place was in this house.

  “Go on, back upstairs,” said Geraldine. “I shall speak to Mrs. Palmer and tell her that in future you are to keep to the kitchen and the upstairs rooms. I don’t want you in the public rooms or the private family apartments.” She emphasised the word ‘family’ to let Anna know that she was most certainly not counted amongst that group of people.

  “I haven’t finished…” Anna started to say.

  “You have finished! Now go!”

  Chapter Four

  Anna wiped her eyes with a hankie as Mrs. Palmer put a cup of tea in front of her. “There now, child, don’t take on so,” she said, gently. “Oh that woman… There’s been nothing but trouble since she came to this house. You might think she’ll throw you out, dear, but I know she won’t. So many servants have come and gone since she married your father. She doesn’t know how to treat them. In the old days, servants didn’t have much choice, but since the war young girls can have different careers in shops and offices, and that’s what they want. Who’s going to clean up after others, and work till past midnight having to get up again at six, when there are better paid jobs out there where you can be home by five o’clock and in bed by ten? I’d go myself. I’ve often had dreams of running a guest house by the sea, but…”

  “What?” Anna looked up at her, teary eyed. “Oh, Mrs. Palmer, please don’t say you’re only staying because of me? I’d feel awful.”

  “Then you mustn’t. I promised that lad and God I’d take care of you, and take care of you, I will. As long as I’m here, no harm will come to you.”

  Anna sipped her tea, feeling humbled by Mrs. Palmer’s sacrifice. It was not fair that the housekeeper carried on working somewhere she was clearly miserable because of Anna. “Mrs. Palmer,” she said quietly, a few minutes later.

  Mrs. Palmer was peeling potatoes. It was not her job, but the cook had quit the week before, and the kitchen maid the week before that. The other staff was stretched to the limit with the demands that Lady Silverton made of them. “What, dear?”

  “You said you’d quite like to run a guesthouse?”

  “Ay, it’s an idle dream, but my sister’s husband left her a bit of money in his will. Did I tell you?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Well, me and our Elsie thought we’d run a guesthouse together. It’s something we talk about in our letters. She works as a cook for the Duke of Northumberland, you know. I suppose it helps us to dream a little. Makes the days go a bit quicker.”

  “Oh.”

  “What? Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

  “Oh yes, it’s a wonderful idea. It’s just that I was going to suggest I come and help you. Then we could both leave here.”

  Mrs. Palmer turned around and smiled. “Now why didn’t I think of that? I’ll write and ask our Elsie what she thinks, but I’m sure she won’t mind. You could be a chambermaid. Not that we’d be able to pay you much.”

  “I don’t mind, honestly. As long as it’s away from here.”

  “I know you don’t, dear. But I do. Oh it pains me…”

  Anna tuned out a little as Mrs. Palmer once again bemoaned the way Anna was treated by her father and mistreated by her stepmother. She had heard it all before, and she knew it came from a place of affection. But complaining about it did not change things. “I’d better go and play with Teddy,” said Anna. “I did promise.”

  Careful to keep out of the main gardens, Anna spent a happy hour playing with her half-brother near the vegetable patch. It was a place she knew her stepmother would never venture.

  The patch looked forlorn in the afternoon sunlight. Since the last gardener, the latest in a long line, had left in a huffy, Anna, Mrs. Palmer and Mr. Stephens the butler had done their best to keep it maintained, but it was difficult to do when they had so many other duties. Yet with certain things still being rationed, it was their only way of putting fresh vegetables on the table.

  “I want to climb that tree,” said Teddy, pointing to an apple tree.

  “Oh no, Teddy, I don’t think you should,” said Anna. She was afraid of what her step-mother might say if Teddy fell and hurt himself.

  “Aw, Anna, other boys climb trees. They laugh at me at school because I won’t. I thought that if I practice at home, I’ll be good by the time I go back to boarding school.”

  “You’d best ask your mama and papa first,” said Anna. “Then maybe you can do it another day. I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

  “Alright,” said Teddy, pouting. Being a child of generally good spirits, he soon cheered up and they ran around the vegetable patch with their arms outstretched, pretending to be airplanes. Later he helped Anna collect windblown apples.

  “We can have apple crumble for tea,” she promised him.

  “Yummy. With custard?” He bit into one of the apples.

  “With custard. Although you won’t be very hungry if you eat them all first.”

  “An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” said Teddy. “Anna?”

  “What is it, dear?”

  “I’d rather like to be a doctor.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes. I’ve been reading about it. Mother says I can’t because I’m a gentleman and gentlemen don’t work. But I think that’s rather silly. Mind you, I would have to get better at arithmetic.”

  “I’ll help you, if you like,” Anna promised.

  “You’re a peach of a girl,” said Teddy.

  For the next few days, rather than dreaming of joining Janek’s family, Anna had a new dream. One of going to work in a Bed and Breakfast by the seaside. She and Mrs. Palmer talked about it whilst they worked and late into the night, when they could not sleep for excitement. Mrs. Palmer’s sister, Elsie Smith
, had agreed that Anna could join them as a chambermaid.

  “It’ll be nothing too big,” said Mrs. Palmer over cocoa one night. “Just a few rooms, so we’re not run off our feet. After all, what’s the point of living by the seaside if you can’t sometimes go and walk along the sands?”

  “Have you thought of where?” asked Anna.

  “Yes, we thought up Filey way, or Scarborough. We used to go there as children. Oh, it’s lovely up there.”

  “I’d love to travel more,” said Anna, dreamily. To say how much of her young life had been spent travelling from one country to another, she had very little recollection of it, after eight years of only ever being at Silverton Hall. The other servants, in the days when they had a full staff, would go to the seaside on their days off. As Anna was not actually paid a wage, she could never afford to join them. Mrs. Palmer had offered her the money to go, but she always refused, feeling she had taken enough of the kind lady’s charity. Her clothes were generally hand-me-downs, courtesy of other maids who also took kindly on her.

  “You’ll be travelling to the East coast with us, dear,” said Mrs. Palmer. “And you needn’t think we’ll use you as a drudge either. I’ve warned our Elsie about that. I’ve told her about how you’re a proper little Cinderella here, and she agrees with me that you deserve to be treated better.”

  Anna reached out and put her hand over Mrs. Palmer’s. “I know you’ll be kind to me. You always have been.”

  “And always will be. You’ve got a friend in Polly Palmer and don’t you ever forget that.”

  Anna did forget it, and only a few days later at that.

  Chapter Five

  Anna had been busy all morning, on account of yet another servant leaving. Mrs. Palmer had put a postcard in the local shop and asked a London agency to send someone quickly, but the truth was that Geraldine Silverton’s behaviour was becoming well known.

  “It’s amazing,” said Mrs. Palmer, as she scrubbed the kitchen table with salt, whilst Anna was busy in the pantry, washing the breakfast dishes. They talked through the open door. “Servants have to give references when they want a job, when really it’s employers who should have to give them.”