Alice waited in bed.
She couldn't believe Mary
was to be her new lady's maid.
The nanny had told her
the night before.
Stern looking
she had told her
that Mary was to be
her maid from now on.
There seemed a kind
of relief in the nanny's voice.
Through the night,
Alice thought of it.
The limping thin girl
was to be her own maid.
The thin red hands
to undo and do up
her dresses
and bathe her
and wash her
and take her places.
Mary was in
her own room
in the attic.
Nervous, she was
all fingers and thumbs.
The child was now
her responsibility.
No more washing up
and working in the kitchen
of the big house.
Mrs Broadbeam
was not happy about it.
She would have
to have another now
to train as kitchen maid.
Mary was happy about that.
Maybe her red hands
would have a chance to heal.
She was dressed
in the maid's dress
the nanny had given her
the night before.
It was a bit too big,
but it fitted and was better
than the dresses she wore
in the kitchen which smelt
of cooking and sweat.
She looked at herself
in the old mirror.
She licked her hair damp
to get it to lay down.
The white hat
she had pinned
to her hair.
She smiled
at her reflection.
Alice sat up in bed
as Mary entered.
She looked different,
but she still limped
to the bed.
Have you heard?
Mary asked.
Yes,
Alice said,
you're to be
my own maid.
Mary pulled back
the bed covers
with her red thin fingers
and took Alice's hand gently.
Best get you up
and washed and dressed,
Mary said.
Will your hands
get less red?
Alice asked
looking at the maid's hand
holding hers.
Hope so,
Mary said.
Alice walked with Mary
to the wash bowl
and Mary poured water in.
Mary undressed Alice
and so began
the washing process.
The warmed water
was better than the cold water
the nanny used
when she did the task.
The washing was gentle
and calm, not forceful
and hurtful as it was
when the nanny did it.
Alice missed her mother
being there. No news
of her since
she had gone away.
Mary was kind
and thoughtful.
She had washed Alice
and dressed her.
That's you all ***** and span,
Mary said.
***** and span?
Alice said.
Neat and clean,
Mary said.
She looked
into Mary's eyes.
There was not
the anger or darkness
as was in
the nanny's eyes.
And when Mary
took her hand
there was not
the pinching or squeezing
like the nanny did.
As Mary limped
to the window
to open it up,
Alice watched her
from behind,
the loose fitting dress,
black and white,
the hair and white hat pinned,
the red hand reaching
for the window latch
to let in air
and Alice smiled
to herself
at the maid
like an angel
standing there.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 7:06 AM UTC
Alice waited in bed.
She couldn't believe Mary
was to be her new lady's maid.
The nanny had told her
the night before.
Stern looking
she had told her
that Mary was to be
her maid from now on.
There seemed a kind
of relief in the nanny's voice.
Through the night,
Alice thought of it.
The limping thin girl
was to be her own maid.
The thin red hands
to undo and do up
her dresses
and bathe her
and wash her
and take her places.
Mary was in
her own room
in the attic.
Nervous, she was
all fingers and thumbs.
The child was now
her responsibility.
No more washing up
and working in the kitchen
of the big house.
Mrs Broadbeam
was not happy about it.
She would have
to have another now
to train as kitchen maid.
Mary was happy about that.
Maybe her red hands
would have a chance to heal.
She was dressed
in the maid's dress
the nanny had given her
the night before.
It was a bit too big,
but it fitted and was better
than the dresses she wore
in the kitchen which smelt
of cooking and sweat.
She looked at herself
in the old mirror.
She licked her hair damp
to get it to lay down.
The white hat
she had pinned
to her hair.
She smiled
at her reflection.
Alice sat up in bed
as Mary entered.
She looked different,
but she still limped
to the bed.
Have you heard?
Mary asked.
Yes,
Alice said,
you're to be
my own maid.
Mary pulled back
the bed covers
with her red thin fingers
and took Alice's hand gently.
Best get you up
and washed and dressed,
Mary said.
Will your hands
get less red?
Alice asked
looking at the maid's hand
holding hers.
Hope so,
Mary said.
Alice walked with Mary
to the wash bowl
and Mary poured water in.
Mary undressed Alice
and so began
the washing process.
The warmed water
was better than the cold water
the nanny used
when she did the task.
The washing was gentle
and calm, not forceful
and hurtful as it was
when the nanny did it.
Alice missed her mother
being there. No news
of her since
she had gone away.
Mary was kind
and thoughtful.
She had washed Alice
and dressed her.
That's you all ***** and span,
Mary said.
***** and span?
Alice said.
Neat and clean,
Mary said.
She looked
into Mary's eyes.
There was not
the anger or darkness
as was in
the nanny's eyes.
And when Mary
took her hand
there was not
the pinching or squeezing
like the nanny did.
As Mary limped
to the window
to open it up,
Alice watched her
from behind,
the loose fitting dress,
black and white,
the hair and white hat pinned,
the red hand reaching
for the window latch
to let in air
and Alice smiled
to herself
at the maid
like an angel
standing there.
A NEW LADY'S MAID AND THE LITTLE GIRL ALICE IN 19TH CENTURY ENGLAND.
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