tray from the still-room or the
kitchen He would speak to
me in Welsh, which I did not usually use among
the other servants. His wife had
died before I came to the Hall, he had spent
much of his time at his sisters’ place since then.
He would be working at
the Welsh books the Small Library
was a cosy place
sometimes he liked to talk to me,
made me feel proud of being Welsh
the other servants were all
trying to ape being English, there was very little
Welsh spoken in the kitchen
The Factor hated to hear Welsh spoken, he swore
and bullied us if he heard us.
May we receive that which for
grateful until ever after
no one came
was to be successful
in the fullness, the first place
The Lyons over Hammersmith station. Would go
there for tea in the war, no meal could cost
more than five shillings. Essential warwork,
indeed! Better than the British Restaurants
or the canteen at Fuller’s. But even in the war,
Fuller’s gave you your wedding cake if you were
getting married, free. Told him that, but he
said he wasn’t going to get tied down just for
the sake of an unrationed wedding cake. We’re
happy as we are, he said, Aren’t we?
What’s he want now,
filthy old man always fingering his backside.
Glue? Yes, here. And have
Ivy’s, too, then you won’t have to stretch over
and hurt yourself so much. All right
now? Have to be.
How many of these does she want us to do?
on and on Still, Ivy’ll
tell me when she thinks it’s enough, Ivy’s doing
the organising here
Finish at last
I’ll say we’ve done a good session. Worked my
poor old fingers into an ache. Glad that’s
over for one day. It makes a difference.
I’ve worked harder than Ron, I’m four or five
ahead of him, spare, all those. I’m good. Yes,
here’s my bits and pieces, Ivy, and good riddance!
Yes, pack them neatly in, crackers
for Christmas.
Why can’t we have some different coloured paper?
I’m fed up with this sort of red, rotten red.
I may not be very but I am
Here she comes. I hope she’ll like what we’ve done.
Ron is stupid. They’re not
bad, are they, Miss?
Better than hers, anyway –
Oooh — she hasn’t done any, Mrs Ridge! How
does she get away with it?
So tired now. I’ll drop off
in my chair soon if she doesn’t watch out.
Pass the Parcel.
Haven’t played that since I was a child. Sweets it
was usually, very small packet of sweets wrapped
round and round and round with lots and lots and
lots of paper and string and brown sticky paper.
It was such a let-down in the end, but that made
it all the more fun and it meant that all those
who didn’t win were less disappointed when it
turned out to be next to nothing.
Oh, it’s my turn.
Parcel feels exciting. On to George.
Marvellous, he moves. Passed it to Sarah, as well!
He must be getting better, old George. You never
know, he might even say something next. That would
be a miracle!
She shouldn’t keep it, you can’t trust that Mrs Ridge
to be fair in the slightest. Oh, the
music’s stopped, and Ron’s the one to open it. I
wonder what it can be?
Eh? Not very nice at all! Why did she do that?
Poor old Ron, I feel sorry for him, his backside in
that sort of state, too. It’s not right at all.
The Factor was a swine,
a swine. And he was a villain, too. He came
there with hardly a penny to his name, and died
worth twenty thousand. How he got it is a long
story. He would tell the sisters things had been
done on the estate when he knew very well they
hadn’t. And he’d pocket the money, of course.
One day Miss Mary called me in to her in the great
drawing room and asked me if I knew where the Factor
was. He’s gone to Birmingham, I said. To pay
the coal bill, she said, but he could have done it
by post, I gave him a cheque. I think she knew
then he was taking a backhander and had gone to
collect it. She would never hear a word against
him until then, that day I think she realised what
a villain he was, but it was too late, she was –
Travel, no, what she means by that is
Don’t mind, passes the time.
But who’s going to push me?
Yes, that
would be good of you, Charlie. A gentle turn
round the hall. Sure you really feel up
to it, though?
When the Factor retired, he made a bonfire of
papers from his office and it burned for three
days. He built his own house, how he ever did
that I’ll never know, out of their money. How
could a man on his salary ever save twenty thousand?
The family knew, of course, and tried to
tell Auntie Mary, but she would hear no word
against him. He even had his own electricity line
from the big house, a mile across the fields,
so he got his light free. Though he did good work,
I’ll agree, but he never did it unless there was
a backhander in it for him. But you could never
prove anything against him, that was the difficulty.
And he had the power of life and death over some of
us, by dismissing us. Not that I ever wished to
prove anything against him, I got on quite well
with him apart — Not at all, Charlie, not at all.
It must have been some time after I came across
his only cousin in Rhyl, near the front, she
looked well and was well off. She would be, of
course.
We’re the last to be exercising. All
the others have given up — Tourney, oh yes, I
won that last time, beat old Ron hollow, though
he does have his troubles down there. Hang on a
minute, Charlie. Lift, adjust, myself.
That’s it, over to the corner by the cup-
board. Yes. Yes, Charlie, I can.
Here’s my mop. What’s she soaked it in this time?
Smells like what you were mixing, Charlie.
Lark is right, Charlie
Let’s get hold of this mop properly. Now where shall
I try to land it first? Off!
He’s a good pusher, Charlie.
George’s let his mop fall, get him right in the PUSS!
One to me, very pleased.
Off we
go again. I shall win again, I know. George is hopeless.
Aim at chest this time, oh flinch! SHOULDER!
Still a solid blow, his hardly flicked me with wet.
Good, eh?