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Story: The Deception

L iving as a servant opened Lydia’s eyes in many ways. The room she shared with Edith was tiny; being on the top floor of the house, it was also quite hot. There was a very small window, which let in very little air; the air it did let in was typical of London in the summer – hot and smoky.

Her bed was iron, with one straw-filled mattress and a thin pillow. Edith swore that her own mattress was infested with bed bugs, and indeed, Edith seemed to do a good deal of scratching, but so far Lydia had been spared that particular problem.

The uniform she had been given to wear was a lightweight cotton; the colour, a medium grey, could not flatter anyone’s complexion. This cotton was fine in the summer; would they be given warmer clothing in the winter? Lydia suspected not.

She ate her meals downstairs with the rest of the staff.

The food was good, which Lydia appreciated.

She had always had a hearty appetite, and the immense amount of work she did every day sharpened it.

Intent on not being found wanting, she continued her practice of keeping her head down and her mouth shut.

She would never forget the nights she had spent huddled in a London doorway; she knew she had been incredibly fortunate to have had a kind young lady take an interest in her, and she would do nothing to jeopardize her position.

Downstairs, Mr. Durston reigned supreme. When he entered or left a room, the other servants rose immediately. At dinner each night, he handed out reprimands to anyone he felt deserved one.

“Jack, I noticed that you did not step aside on the staircase when you encountered Mrs. Hodges. Remember that you are always to step aside to let persons of higher rank pass, and that includes servants who are higher than you.”

“Doris, Mrs. Hodges tells me that you found Miss Emily’s glove and returned it to her. In the future, you should give any items that you find to Letty, Nancy or Beatrice, not directly to the lady.”

“Lydia, I have been told that you have been seen smiling at Miss Alice; do not do so, it smacks of familiarity! Keep your head down, girl.”

“Alfred, I have seen you looking at Lydia. I will tolerate no more of that nonsense, I tell you, or I shall have you dismissed without a character.”

The correct response, Lydia soon learnt, was to say, “Yes, Mr. Durston,” and nothing more.

Mr. Durston did not, of course, reprimand Mrs. Hodges, Letty, Nancy or Beatrice; the first three of those kept their eyes down during the nightly admonishments, but Beatrice, nasty thing, would smirk at whoever Mr. Durston selected as his target that night.

Cook was also excluded from scoldings, perhaps because Mr. Durston feared her revenge.

She was as temperamental as any great French chef, and kept everyone at a distance.

Lydia, remembering the meal she had been given immediately upon her arrival, made it a point to thank Cook every day for her delicious food; she generally received nothing more than a quick nod of Cook’s head in response.

Lydia required no further acknowledgement; the food was one of the few things she liked about her new situation and she thought it only right to indicate some appreciation.