Mary, the kitchen maid

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Mary, the kitchen maid, stood behind Mrs Broadbeam the cook in the kitchen. His Lordship wants to see me? Mary asked, looking at the cook's broad hips and behind. That's what was said, Mrs Broadbeam replied, rolling out pastry on a huge table. What's it about? Mary said. How would I know, the cook said, I'm in no position to ask that. Mary wiped her damp hands on her apron. Steam rose from pots on the stove. Who asked for me? Did he come down himself and ask for me? Mary said, standing beside the cook, looking at her worriedly. No, his Lordship didn't, that new nanny, Miss Spingle, came down. Said it was to do with the child, Miss Alice, the cook said, giving the maid, a hard look. You best get up and see his Lordship, I need you back here; there's lots to be done. Mary felt a cold finger run up and down her narrow spine. It wasn't her fault the child had crept into her bed the other night, it wasn't her fault that the child had asked her to be her adopted mother. The child must have spoken. Unless someone had seen the child leave her room the other morning, or saw her creep into he room during the night. Mary felt nauseous. She was done for. Out of a job and home. Who'd employ her after this? Shall I go now? Mary said anxiously. The message was for you to go see his Lordship as soon as you were back, the cook said. There was an annoyed tone in her voice. Mary hesitated, looking around the kitchen as if for the last time. Go on then, the cook said firmly. Mary wiped her hands as dry as she could on the apron. Am I all right as I am? Mary asked. His Lordship wants to see you about something, he's not taking you out to dinner, the cook said. Mary limped out of the kitchen reluctantly. The corridor from the kitchen to the stairs up t...

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...ng with words and ideas and visions and her bladder about to burst. She limped away from the door, along the polished floor, through the thick door separating the upper rooms from lower orders. She limped slowly towards the staff toilet on the second floor, her mind in both a state of joy and at the same time feeling out on a limb, out of her depths. She entered the toilet and shut the door. Footsteps moved across the room above. Voices called from along the corridor. Some one laughed. She sat and closed her eyes; her bladder emptied, her heartbeat slowed, her nerves calmed. A lady's maid. She repeated it in her mind; turned the phrase over and over in her mind like a boiled sweet. What would Mrs Broadbeam say? How would the other staff be with her now? She saw the child in her mind. How had she crept into her bed? And why? Suddenly, unexpectedly, Mary began to cry.

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