Title: Bluebells and roses.
Chapter 1.
This is the next part of an AU/AU, a tribute to a great short story and a marvellous film but also to an European country whose language I studied and loved since I was a child.
Timeline: before the introduction chapter, we're swimming between end of 19th and beginning of 20th century.
Thanks to all of you who posted a comment – onefreetoroam. Grlewis, scudder, Ballymay, Porgy, Judy, HieiT - and also those who wrote a PM asking about Mexico: I'll write the sequel when BB&R will be completed.
Disclaimer: intellectual property of Ms. Proulx, no commercial use, no copyright infringment.
Special thanks as usual to my dear Beta Carol, her help is always precious and deeply treasured.
Jack Twist remembered well the first time he saw the House of the Delmar family. He was in the summer of his 14th birthday and his father decided it was time for him to go into service, instead of breaking his back in the coal mine. No other opportunities for a family whose land needed only a single set of arms to cultivate it. John Twist arranged everything through his brother-in-law, one of the gardeners of the House. Jack attended school making good grades, but the Twists were too poor to give him a better education.
Jack was too afraid of his father - who often beat him with a leather whip – to feel relieved at being away from John Twist. His father's rage started every time the boy failed in doing something and Jack was sure his father hated him. Surely he wasn't the kind of son John Twist wanted.
The first day of July Claire Twist dressed Jack in his only jacket - cut from an old one that belonged to her husband - and kissed his sweaty forehead one last time before leaving their small kitchen with tears in her eyes.
Jack was an only child. Mother and son were very close, especially after giving birth to him, which left her unable to have other children.
Claire Twist couldn't imagine her life without her baby, but she knew well that a growing Jack and her John were not meant to live too near each other.
John Twist gave him a strong handshake and entrusted him to Uncle Harold, a silent man who didn't speak a lot during their walk. Jack was so nervous that he remained silent, too.
The road wasn't long but Jack was anxious to arrive; curiosity was ruling him and at every turn of the road he hoped to see the gates of the estate.
When they reached the wide driveway and Jack saw the house his jaw fell open in wonderment, it was so huge! Bigger than the stone church of the Sunday service, bigger than the whole village, he thought.
At a first glance, he noticed there were three floors in the central building, a large stair leading to the back gardens and two lower wings, with ivy on the walls.
They entered through the service door and his uncle asked immediately for the head butler.
A woman with broad shoulders, grey hair and a strong lavender perfume, lead them to Mr Evans' private parlour.
Jack took off his hat and stood immobile while the men discussed his future.
His uncle was deferential with the other man, keeping hat in hands and head low.
Jack took only a glimpse of the parlour, a cozy fireplace, two big chairs, flowers in a vase and a collection of pipes. All signs of wealth to a poor boy like him. Mr Evans was in his fifties, very tall and with a prominent bald spot on his head. He pierced Jack with an icy stare and the boy trembled a little.
An hour later Jack had a room shared with two others young valets, new tasks and a uniform too large for him. The woman he met before, the housekeeper Mrs. Morley, explained that he'd soon become taller and bigger, so no need to alter it now. A larger uniform would last for more months into the future.
At the servants' dinner table there were 18 people, mostly maids, because married men, like Jack's uncle, had their own small apartments around the house or in the village.
Jack didn't speak a word, too afraid to talk. The cook placed two large plates in front of the butler, one with meat, the other full of various vegetables; Mr Evans - who was sitting in front of his wife - took their portions first, then the housekeeper's and so on, following the importance of the various servants. Jack was hungry and eyed the plate often, afraid the food would end before his turn. Luckily the portion Mr. Evans gave him was enough for two men and Jack didn't see the approving look Mrs Evans gave her husband. She had noticed the new boy during the afternoon and felt a spontaneous maternal feeling toward him.
Jack went to bed in silence, his roommates treated him like a ghost. They shared cigarettes and spicy secrets without caring if Jack was asleep or awake.
The bell rang for him at 5 am and after a quick breakfast – surely three times the size he had at home - his first day become a collection of cuts and bruises on his arms due to the pieces of firewood he moved all day from outside to the various rooms. It seemed the fireplaces in the house were neverending and always burning.
Mr Evans wanted to see if he showed some particular aptitudes before deciding where and how to use him, so he told Jack he would spend his first week working between the kitchen, the barn and the garden.
He added a brief description of the house but Jack was confused after only half of the rooms on the ground floor. Words like dining room, drawing room, library, were foreign for him.
"I'll ask Victor to help you these first days, he's the oldest valet. You already met the others at dinner or this morning, so no further needs of introduction."
Jack remembered only a sea of faces and he had no clue who Victor could be.
"About the family, his lordship is very demanding, although he's rarely been at home these last months.
Lord Kenneth is 16 and will be back tomorrow from London. Mister Ennis is the youngest and he's often in the barn with the horses."
He paused to breathe and Jack did the math: why was Mr Evans not talking about Lady Delmar?
He remembered that once Uncle Harold described a beautiful lady who had lots of ideas about her beloved garden.
"And Lady Delmar?" he questioned cautiously, wanting so much to appear interested in his future duties.
A shadow passed over Mr Evans' face. His features tensed for a second before continuing impassive as always.
"Lady Delmar unfortunately died four years ago, the family still mourns her every day. Especially Mister Ennis and his sister, who is ill and after the death of her mother often remains in her room.
"I hope Miss Delmar will feel better soon."
Jack cursed again his boldness, his mouth was speaking without control.
"Miss Newsome is a sweet lady and the whole staff tries to do their best for her."
Jack was more confused than before with the use of different family names, but decided to curb his tongue; his new life was nothing compared to the previous one.
The first time Jack noticed the younger son of the family was three days after his arrival; he was outside the barn and Ennis Delmar was approaching on a horse, returning from an afternoon ride.
They were of the same age, Mr Evans said, but Ennis Delmar seemed older, taller and more muscular than Jack, with long blonde curls hidden under a creamy hat, following the fashion of the time and eyes like honey, soft and deep. He was dressed in green, a velvet jacket and hunting trousers, with a mantel to protect him from the rain.
"Hey boy, help me with the horse," he told Jack when he spotted the new servant carrying a bowl.
Evans informed him the day before of the new help, always eager to give the curious Ennis details of the life of the house.
"Yes sir."
Jack swiftly took the hat and the mantel he was given and handled the wet horse blanket as instructed.
"Your're new here?"
"Yes sir."
"Your only word is yes sir?"
"No sir."
"Better. What's your name?"
"Jack sir."
"Did your parents stop at Jack?"
"Jack Twist sir."
Ennis looked at him for the first time and noticed the colour of his eyes. Deep shades of blue, like spring skies. The boy seemed different from the others he had met before; deferential but not too much, a strange dignity in his posture.
"I'm Ennis, not sir, not Mister Ennis. I'm the youngest. My brother is Lord Delmar. Did you meet him already?"
"Yes sir Ennis, yesterday he needed wood for the fire."
"He's always cold, he says in his school the fires are always off. Strange place it must be. Where do you come from?"
"From the village."
"It isn't possibile, never saw blue eyes like yours around here."
"My mother is Irish, she was born there... she says I'm the portrait of my grandfather, but I've never met him."
"Where does she live?"
"At our farm. I've a portrait of her in my necklace. Do you want to see her?"
Later Jack was surprised by his own attitude with his young master, but Ennis' face was so bright at the idea that Jack slid a hand under his shirt for the thin silver chain that belonged to his maternal grandmother.
The picture of Claire Twist was very small and damaged on the left side. Ennis took it carefully, afraid to let it fall on the ground.
"She's beautiful, you resemble her a lot."
He sighed and suddenly handed the locket back and headed for the house.
"I miss mine," Jack heard him whispering to the wind.
They soon became friends; both lonely, without mothers – Ennis' died four years before, Jack remembered Mr Evans' words – and without other boys of the same age around. Ennis taught Jack how to deal with his personal horse, Signal. Later that summer, when his father was again away for a month, he gave Jack riding lessons during his few hours free from service. Ennis spent a week in convincing Jack, who was reluctant, afraid to be seen by Mr Evans, and agreed only when Ennis took him to the old hunting cabin. It was a long walk, but it was worth it, both for the loveliness of the place and for the amazing experience to ride a horse.
Signal was a quiet animal, obedient to Ennis' commands and he easily accepted another rider on his back. The first time Jack rode Signal without Ennis holding the reins was an amazing experience, feeling the horse moving under him. The freedom of movement became a dream for Jack, and he started imagining having his own horse, some day.
Unfortunately the riding lessons ended as soon as September arrived; Ennis was now away at school and Jack felt alone during the cold winter, when days were so short and the house full of dark rooms.
Lord Charles was often away and sometimes Mr Evans went with him.Jack was always busy but he was happy to work for Miss Lureen Newsome, Ennis' older stepsister from Lady Delmar's first marriage. She really was an angel on earth, Jack often thought, the sweetest lady he ever met.
Her health was so fragile she was often confined to her little apartment, but she accepted her seclusion , grateful to avoid her stepfather. Only when her brothers were at home was her face radiant.
The second winter of Jack working for the Delmar family was one of the worst in Lureen's life. She started coughing in October when she was surprised by a sudden rain returning from the church service with Kenneth. Her brother whipped the horses and tried to lift the cover but the carriage was slowed down by the mud on the road.
They were completely soaked when they reached home; the maids prepared a new fire in Lureen's room and Mrs. Morley arrived with hot tea. The morning after Lureen was feverish, Dr. Stoutamire was called and gave a list of prescriptions, before reminding Kenneth that the situation could get worse soon.
Ennis was informed by letter and wrote back asking Jack to take care of his sister for him. Kenneth was leaving for the army soon and nobody else could be trusted with the task.
Jack devoted every moment of his free time to the Miss of the house; he was often there to add wood to the fire, help the maids in changing the bed, disposing of corporal fluids and sleeping in an adjacent room during the night.
When Lureen felt better she started giving Jack school lessons, trying to improve his education.
Mr. Evans was pleased to see such devotion in a boy so young, it enforced the decision he made in May to transfer Jack from the gardens to the house; despite Jack's efforts, the boy was never good with plants. He decided to teach Jack how to become a professional butler like himself. Lots of boys worked under him but only few were suitable.
TBC.
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