arse. I know.
There was too much room in that kitchen, Cook used to say,
even when she had to cook for sixty, there were that many
guests there on occasion, oh dear me yes
The mahogany cupboards, the whole range to
blacklead, eggs to beat, the meringues the sisters liked
too much, we used to put the yolks in scrambled eggs the
next morning, it was the best way to use them up.
Years afterwards
went into Town one week and there he was, years after,
outside the Bear, his great stomach even bigger
grinning
I felt my insides twist, I couldn’t help
myself, he had the effect on me.
In summer the sun used to beat down
on the range, it used to make it that hot
working there, double.
My name is
Sioned, I work here, you’re a pretty thing
How could I see it coming?
Clear up now, I’ll help, I can still move, you know, push
at the wheels, I’ll help, get the plates together, there,
lift — Oh no! I didn’t mean
to drop them, Miss!
I wouldn’t try to
feed the doggie, you’ve told us not to.
Yes, I deserve it.
cah, cah, cah Goats
in the paddock, there. We had goats, then, never ate it
ourselves, but the sisters did. I never liked it, I wasn’t
squeamish, no, but the sisters
No,
I won’t sing her song. I think it’s silly, so
she can do the other thing.
As though it mattered, it wasn’t my fault,
no, they can clear up on their own, a little mess
like that.
What matters most
old age long ha ah ah!
ha ha ha ha ha!
future’s dim
hymn
most important thing
through
ha ha! Nearly choked then.
I think it’s so silly, they
can all go and do the other thing, I’m tired.
.
.
Oh! Must have dozed off. Ivy’s giving out the
work, that’s good, always liked something to do,
never idle, keeps you going, idle hands make
idle work, get down to it, I can do this, fancy
goods again, it’s hard for me with my fingers but
I can do it if I set myself to it, yes, where’s
the glue, ah. Roll it round nice and smooth, hold
it tight, snip it off, glue, glue, loverly glue,
and bob’s your uncle!
Oh, I can do these. I’ll beat Ivy today, I’ll do
more than she can, if she lets me have enough
paper. Roll it round, nice and smooth, hold it
tight, snip snip and it’s off, paste the glue along
the edge, press together, another one done.
Roll it round, nice and nice, hold it tight, snip it
off, off it comes, good paper this, this time,
press the glue, too much that time, never mind eh,
it’s not as though she’s paying us, eh, snip snip
go the scissors, I can do this without thinking, easy,
got it off to a fine art, like I used to when
I was at Fuller’s, packing, we used to have
races amongst ourselves to see who could fill
most cartons first, I’d usually win, there was
only one girl who could give me a run for my
money, not that we ever bet on it, her name
was Fair
hair, rosy cheeks she had, a bit cheeky with
the men from Bakery she was, too, given half
a chance, what was her name?
One afternoon I remember it was so hot that she
undressed right there, took everything off under
her overall and sat there in just her overall,
bold as a knocker, any of the Bakery men could
have come in just then and seen her stark naked,
we were all holding our breath at the nerve of it,
there she was, right in — Yes, dear, what do you
want?
Yes, I’ll join you, if I can do the rolling again
like I did before. Yesterday, was it yesterday?
Forget, there must have been one day I was
beating Ivy and she kept on keeping the paper
from me so that I wouldn’t beat her, but Ivy
seems to think it was yesterday we worked together,
perhaps it was, her memory may be better than
mine, mine is getting shocking.
Yes, someone has to do the organising.
And it always seems to be you. If it’s not House
Mother it’s Ivy. She’s welcome.
Roll it round now, nice and easy, that’s the way,
smoothly does it. There.
Easy.
the still-room next to the carved
room would wait on my own and listen
the company lords and ladies
sometimes the carving
I did not like, it was heavy and dark, it did not
reach to the ceiling because it had belonged to
the older house, over the doors it said 1636 in a
shield, but the house itself was more modern, the
rooms were taller and bigger, the carving was
patterns and crests and shields of families they
were related to, or wanted it thought that they
were related to, the way
mirrors opposite the back lawn with
a sundial
The house itself I loved from the first moment I
saw it, though it meant servitude to me, it was
the people who made me a servant
walking from the village with Megan Williams along
the galloping drive, miles of rhododendrons,
suddenly you could see a top corner of the house,
black-and-white, but big, bigger than any other
black-and-white I’d seen, though when you were
nearer you could see it wasn’t wood, it was a black-
and-white pattern in plaster or something like
that but it was a lovely house, I forgave
it that cheating.
the hall Hall
the portrait of Miss Eirwen and the
tiny the panelling was oak, it took
some polishing and a great brassbound
trunk, with studs it broke my heart
that place died in 1939, died,
they told me
Even took away my name, didn’t like Sioned,
wouldn’t call me that, or even Janet, gave me
a new name to suit them, Emma, that I hated
most of all, I think.
Alyn Llywelyn said fuckit in bead-threading. I
did not know what it meant then. I don’t think
he did, either. Miss Jones made a fuss about it,
she washed out his mouth with soap and water. We
did not understand, but he was careful what he said
after that. In fact, from that day on he was never
a great talker, was Alyn Llywelyn.
Bowen gowen. Yes, Ivy, you made a
rhyme. No one’s ever made up a rhyme about my name
before, never. Yes, we are doing well. I’ll
have to catch up or I won’t beat her.
Mr David worked in the Small Library.
I would take coffee to him, with biscuits on a