dinner was going well and Louise was relieved that so far there had been no disasters at the table, for Polly’s sake as much as her stepmother’s.
She only half-listened as, next to her, Keith Willis told her that he was leaving for Africa very soon. She was more interested in the young doctor’s conversation with her father and wished she was at their end of the table.
At least Dora was in a good mood as she regaled William Spencer and her friend Mrs Howard with the tale of her visit to Broadcasting House with Sarah. As for her sister, she was in her element. She’d been allowed wine with her dinner and her violet eyes were sparkling. She was sitting next to James Spencer and Louise smiled as she saw that her sister was flirting and that James seemed to be responding to her.
She returned her attention to her father who was telling Andrew about the problems of the fishing families who lived in such poor conditions on the other side of town.
‘My uncle has spoken of it. We tend to think such problems are confined to the big cities,’ Andrew said.
‘Your uncle tells me you are trying to rectify that in your part of London,’ said Stanley.
‘We do what we can but it’s little enough. The clinic I run only scratches the surface. We can do little to combat the dirt and malnutrition.’
Louise was fascinated. She knew that Dr Tate’s nephew worked in a London clinic but she hadn’t realized he worked with the under-privileged in the East End. The knowledge increased her admiration for the young doctor.
Dora of course was horrified. ‘I do realize you have to get experience before you take over your own practice,’ she said. ‘But how do you bear it – the dirt, the disease….’ She shuddered delicately.
‘Dirt and disease are something doctors have to learn to cope with,’ he told her.
‘But surely it’s only a temporary measure,’ Dora insisted. ‘I thought you’d be taking over from your uncle eventually.’
‘I hope that won’t be for a long time yet,’ Andrew had said and changed the subject by complimenting Dora on the excellence of the meal.
They had finished dessert and Louise looked up to see Polly peeping hesitantly round the door. Her face was red and she looked as if she’d been crying.
Louise hastily left her seat and followed her along the passage to the kitchen. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘Oh, miss, I dropped the milk jug,’ she wailed.
‘Is that all? Well, use a different jug,’ Louise told her.
‘But there’s no more milk left. What about the coffee?’
Louise went into the kitchen and surveyed the mess. Cook had found another jug and was re-laying the tray. ‘I don’t know why she had to bother you, miss,’ she said. ‘We’ve got cream left from dessert. That will do for the coffee.’
Louise smiled. ‘Thank you, Cookie. I’ll take it in.’ She turned to Polly, who had begun to pick up the pieces of broken china. ‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault.’
As she picked up the tray, Polly let out a yelp and Louise gasped as blood gushed from the maid’s hand. She grabbed a cloth and pressed it to the wound, guiding her to a chair. ‘Sit here for a minute. I’ll take the coffee in,’ she said, picking up the tray and going through to the dining room.
Dora looked up in irritation. ‘It took you long enough,’ she said. ‘Where’s Polly?’
‘She’s had a little accident. Sarah, would you pour the coffee, please? I’ll go and see if she’s all right.’
‘Really, that girl. She’s impossible,’ Dora said. Her guests didn’t respond and she gave a little laugh. ‘She’s been with the family years you know, so….’ She gave a little shrug and another laugh.
Louise bit her lip, wanting to tell her stepmother they were lucky to have such a devoted servant who’d been like one of the family ever since she could remember. She hurried back to the kitchen, where she found Polly looking quite pale. The cloth was soaked through and
Jenna McCarthy and Carolyn Evans