Your Friend, Alice

The Clarion 18th July 1920

“Housemaid wanted for large villa, Must be neat, clean and responsible. Duties to include housework, laundry and occasional plain cooking. Please apply by letter in own handwriting to Mrs. P. Trisk, The Beeches, Upper Manfield, enclosing references.”

The Beeches

Upper Manfield

August 15th, 1920

Dear Maud,

I hope this finds you well. Where to start? It was a very long trip to get here. I was scared I was on the wrong train, especially when I was the only one who got off at Upper Manfield. I was looking around when a horse and cart appeared. A cart, not a car, a carriage or a cab. The driver got down and asked if I was the new girl for The Beeches. He was young and skinny, but his voice was raspy and he moved like an old man, slow and wheezy. I said I was Alice, the new maid.

“You’re awful young,” says he, shaking his head.“Not surprising, since nobody won’t stay.”

I should have paid attention to that, but I was annoyed.

“I’m eighteen,” I said haughty like.

He laughed, which set him off coughing so hard I got right worried.

“Got gassed in the trenches during the war,” he said when he caught his breath. “I’m Ralph. Nice to meet you.”

He tossed my bag up into the cart and helped me up to sit beside him. The old horse ambled off through the countryside till we turned in through huge stone pillars and went down the driveway to the big house. It looked like a palace from afar, but up close you could see it’s run down and the garden’s all going wild. Mrs. Trisk moved into the gardener’s cottage during the war as the gardener got killed in action, while the army used the big house as a convalescent hospital. She only moved back into the big house a year ago. We went in through the kitchen where there was an old woman called Mrs. Peabody. She comes up from the village most days to cook. She wasn’t none too friendly. Looked me over like I had fleas and told Ralph to show me to my room which is in the attic at the top of the stairs. The ceilings slope so I must be careful not to bump my head when I get out of bed and there’s funny patches on the wall where the damp’s got in. The roof must be leaking. I tell you, Maud, it was strange the first few nights being in a room by myself. I grew up with Mam and Dad and all six of us kids in two rooms and then the orphanage with you and all the other girls. There are all kinds of creaky noises at night, but an owl is about the loudest thing around here! Anyway, I get up at sparrow fart, so I’ll close for now,

Your friend, Alice

The Beeches,

Upper Manfield.

September 2nd, 1920

Dear Maud,

I wanted to write before now, but I’m usually asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. Mrs. Trisk only uses the drawing room and her bedroom. Most of the other rooms are closed off, but there’s just me and Mrs. Peabody, so there’s plenty of work to do. Ralph does odd jobs in the house and garden, but he gets breathless real easy. He says they had five indoor staff and the gardener before the war. Mrs. Peabody’s no grumpier than that old Matron in the orphanage when you get used to her. Her husband’s a miserable old sod and her son’s not been right in the head since he came back from France. Mrs. Trisk is a widow and her only son Percy died in the war. They never found his body, so she couldn’t even have a funeral. I reckon we all have our crosses to bear.

Working in a dress shop! I am happy for you. Tell me all about it,

Your friend, Alice

The Beeches,

Upper Manfield.

September 20th, 1920

Dear Maud,

I have a long weekend next month, so maybe I could come to town to see you. Mrs. Trisk wants to keep me happy. Apparently, I’ve lasted longer than the last three maids. Mrs. Peabody, Ralph and I were having tea the other day in the kitchen with the milkman who likes to stop in for a cuppa. I got brave and asked why the other girls left so quick. You could have cut the silence with a knife. They all looked at each other and changed the subject. I wonder what they’re hiding. Percy’s bedroom has been closed up since he died. Mrs. Trisk won’t enter, but one day she told me to clear it. Her brother said she’d kept it like a shrine long enough. I lugged all his clothes up to the storage room in the attic across from my room and packed them in a trunk with mothballs. Percy was a handsome lad in his photographs and looks like he knew it too. Mrs. Peabody scowls whenever his name comes up but won’t say anything. Ralph won’t talk either. The creaky noises seem to be getting louder at night and the damp patches on my wall are spreading. If I use my imagination, they look like smudgy people. I mentioned it to Mrs. Peabody, and she told me to scrub the walls with bleach. That seemed to help a bit.

How can you put up with all those persnickety lady customers? I’d rather deal with Mrs. Crosspatch Peabody!

Your friend, Alice

The Beeches

Upper Manfield.

October 12th, 1920

Dear Maud,

It was so nice to see you and have a bit of fun. My bedroom is like an ice box now that the weather’s getting cold. There’s frost inside of the windows and I can see my breath when I wake up. The wall is all mottled again, and I swear something touched my face the other night. I couldn’t sleep a wink. Ralph asked me next day if I was feeling ill because I looked terrible. Making sure Mrs. Peabody wasn’t within earshot, I told him what’s been happening. He listened, looking worried. Finally, he told me to come to tea at his house. He lives with his widowed mother in the village. We arranged it for Saturday afternoon. If all that wasn’t enough, things have been going missing from the house, like a valuable mantel clock and Mrs. Trisk’s pearl necklace. She questioned us all. Mrs. Peabody was offended and madder than a wet hen about that. She’s worked for the family for years. There’s no sign of anyone forcing their way in. Maybe Mrs. Trisk’s getting a bit doolally in her old age and forgetting where she hides things.

I am glad business is going well in the dress shop. You certainly looked stylish in your new frock!

Your friend, Alice

The Beeches

Upper Manfield.

October 20th, 1920

Dear Maud,

Ralph and his mother finally told me the story. He was sorry he’d not said anything sooner, but all the staff who knew were sworn to secrecy on pain of getting sacked. He needs his job to help his mother, and with his lungs it would be very hard to find anything else around here. Percy was a spoiled little boy who became a troublemaker as he grew up. His mother doted on him after his father died and so he never had any discipline. He pestered more than one of the maids and finally got one in the family way. She kept it a secret until she gave birth. It all went wrong and she and the baby died, in my room if you please. The war was starting, so they shipped Percy off to the army and paid off the girl’s family. Ever since then, the maids have talked about strange things happening in that bedroom and have left, scared out of their wits. Nobody local will work here, which is why Mrs. Trisk had to advertise far away. I feel sorry for the poor girl and her baby, but I truly don’t believe in ghosts. This is just a damp, decrepit old house. Things keep going missing, but Mrs. Trisk won’t hear of going to the police. Last week it was a set of silver teaspoons and a silver cigarette case.

Bob sounds very nice. Actions speak louder than words though, so make sure he treats you right!

Your friend, Alice

The Beeches

Upper Manfield.

October 29th, 1920

Dear Maud,

You won’t believe all the goings on. I was hanging out washing when I noticed that the door to the conservatory was open. That was strange because no one goes in there these days. A lot of the glass panes are broken, and the plants have all died. I went to investigate, clutching a big old stick off the firewood pile. I pushed the door open, stuck my head in and called out. An empty liquor bottle was lying on the floor and there were boot prints in the dust. Suddenly someone shot out from behind the dead shrubbery and rushed at me. I think he was just trying to get to the door, but he knocked me over. As I went down, I screamed. He tripped headlong into Ralph who had come running as fast as he could, puffing like an old steam train. They started struggling and just as Ralph was at the end of his rope, Mrs. Peabody appeared and whacked the stranger on the head with a rolling pin.

“Good God, it’s Percy,” she said, peering down at the groaning man. “Turned up like a bad penny again. Ralph, go and telephone the police. They’re not going to keep us quiet this time.”

To cut a long story short, Percy was not killed in the war. He deserted early on and made his way back to England. He’s been living off his wits, getting lower and lower, finally reduced to sneaking back to the house and stealing things he could sell. He was arrested and isn’t going to be free for a long time. Poor Mrs. Trisk fell apart. Her brother came and took over. He arranged for her to go to a fancy sanatorium, and he’s going to convert the house into flats. Nobody wants a white elephant like that house these days. Mrs. Peabody has decided to open a little restaurant in the village, and I’ll work as a waitress. Lots of tourists come to this area. Ralph and I are going to get married next spring. Turns out he’s liked me for ages but didn’t think I’d look at him twice because of his lung problems. He's been my hero since he tried to protect me from Percy. So everything’s turned out well in the end. Funny thing though. As I was up in my room packing to leave, I noticed that all the damp, moldy patches were gone. Maybe that poor girl and her baby are at peace now, not that I believe in spirits or anything, of course.

Your friend. Alice.