---
Taking a deep breath Nellie lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Then she waited, running her hands nervously over her skirts, a momentary scowl crossing her features at the ugly high-necked monstrosity she was wearing. It was a necessary evil, a dowdy, high neckline, respectable looking dress which was appropriate for a widow such as herself; or at least that was what she kept telling herself ignoring the fact that the navy colour made her look jaundiced, the cut and copious ruffles made her look short and did absolutely nothing for her figure. Still it was respectable and it was cheap and it did not attract any attention of the male variety and considering whose house she was about to enter that was a definite advantage.
Just as she was about to knock again the door opened and standing behind it was a woman that by comparison, even with Mrs Lovett's ugly dress, made Nellie look as svelte and lithe as a mere girl of seventeen. "Eleanor Lovett?"
"Yes." Nellie replied, cursing herself internally when her voice came out little more than a squeak.
"I'm Mrs Jenkins, Judge Turpins housekeeper, would you kindly follow me."
Nodding Nellie followed the rotund housekeeper into the house. The house was as dark and dingy as Nellie had expected, the servants quarters little more than a vast warren of tunnels leading off into closed up rooms, but the thing that struck Nellie was the silence. It was true she had not visited many such wealthy households before but the ones she had always seemed bursting with life, assorted scullery and kitchen maids giggling with the footmen, the housekeeper barking orders and the constant chime of the servants' bells but here she could have heard a pin drop. It was quite a relief when the turned off of the silent corridor and into a parlour that by contrast seemed cheery; true there was not much in the way of ornamentation, not compared with her own parlour but the flickering fire and neatly framed needlework samplers made it almost homey.
"Please take a seat." Mrs Jenkins offered, before lowering her own bulky form into a worn looking armchair leaving Nellie to choose between the other hard backed armchair or to take a seat at the desk. Deciding on the other armchair Nellie sat and arranged her skirts delicately as she often remembered Lucy Baker doing.
"So...I see it is Mrs Lovett." Mrs Jenkins started her hazel eyes flickering over to the worn but obvious wedding ring that still sat on Nellie's finger.
"Yes." Nellie replied not sure if she should expand on that small affirmation or not but when the housekeeper remained silent her natural verbosity took over and she simple had to fill the silence. "My 'usband, Albert passed away little more than a week ago."
"A widow." Mrs Jenkins summarised. "You have my condolences my dear, but so recently are you sure you are ready to take a new position so soon?"
"Forgive me candour Mrs Jenkins but my poor Albert had been sick these last six months, so it weren't a shock or nothin'. In the end, it was a relief for us both that the dear lord took 'im. As for taking a position so soon, it was my Albert's idea. There would be debts to clear, and 'e was worried about me not having anythin' to occupy m'self with, and to try and run the business alone would have been to 'ard, so 'ere I am."
"Of course how very far sighted of him. Do you have a character reference?"
"Oh yes...Where did I put it. Ah 'ere it is." Nellie exclaimed triumphantly as she presented the housekeeper with her sealed character. "Beadle Bamford gave me it 'imself, I haven't read it so I can only 'ope 'e said something nice."
"Ah yes." Mrs Jenkins replied, fumbling around in her apron for a pair of old spectacles that she held an inch away from her nose whilst she squinted down at the letter.
Whilst the housekeeper was suitably distracted, Nellie took the opportunity to study her potentional employer. She had to be fifty if she was a day, and judging by the size of her rather too fond of sampling her own cooking. Then again, perhaps food was not solely the cause of her bloatation. The housekeeper was extremely red faced for a person who spent most of her life indoors, an extremely ruddy complexion that could be gained by excessive outdoor work or excessive glasses of something potent, port perhaps, maybe sherry. Yes, Mrs Jenkins struck Nellie was a sherry drinker and considering the creeper bugger the poor dear had to work for, it wasn't any wonder if she chose to imbibe in order to keep herself going.
"Well my dear, everything appears to be in order. The Beadle has given you a glowing reference."
"Well 'e is a kind soul." Nellie replied, biting her bottom lip to keep a giggle from escaping.
"The current position we have available is that of housemaid, you will be expected to rise early to clean and set the household fires, then undertake various cleaning duties about the house that I will set from day to day, dusting, polishing, and washing the floors and the like. The pay is seven pounds a month; you will have one afternoon a week to yourself and one full day off a month..."
"What is this?" A sudden voice demanded from the hall.
Turning in her seat Nellie caught sight of something that made her blood freeze. It wasn't the Judge or the Beadle but another of their clique who sent her skin crawling. On first glance the man appeared reasonably attractive, tall over six foot and trim of figure, neatly clipped red hair sat close to his head like a sleek cap and he was smartly dressed albeit all in black. However, one glance in those pale blue eyes, cold like a frozen over lake, sent Nellie's instincts screaming this man was cold, calculating and completely ruthless and he was eyeing her like a particularly nasty insect that had crawled out from underneath the skirting board.
"Oh Mr Philips, I didn't see you there sir..." Mrs Jenkins exclaimed her already ruddy complexion flushing a deeper a red at the sight of the tall imposing butler standing in the doorway. "This is Eleanor Lovett; she is here about the housemaid position."
"Her." The butler sneered his watery blue eyeing up the uncomfortable baker. "She looks like she crawled out of a gutter somewhere, and how old is she forty?"
"I'm twenty blooming eight." Nellie exploded.
"My commiserations." Mr Philips retorted. "You must have had a hard life."
"She has an excellent character." Mrs Jenkins intervened.
"Where from? The workhouse, I've warned you before Mrs Jenkins this is respectable house and I refuse to allow it to become a doss house for any waif or vagabond who tells you a pitiful enough story."
"No from Beadle Bamford." Mrs Jenkins insisted causing the butler to start in surprise, his shark like eyes now fixed on Nellie once more, the contempt knowing expression on his face told anyone how he thought she had obtained that little letter.
"A good friend of yours is he?" Mr Philips asked as he snatched the character from the housekeeper's shaking fingers and scanned its contents quickly.
"He was a friend of my late husband and a regular customer at our Meat pie emporium; he carried out regular inspections so he can vouch for me cleanliness and the quality of my work." Nellie insisted.
"Oh I just bet he did thorough investigations no doubt." Mr Philips sneered throwing the character down on the desk. "I am afraid you have wasted your time..."
However fortunately for Nellie the fat little housekeeper seemed to have reached the end of her rope. "Now now Mr Philips think about it, we can't go on like this, what with Mary quitting last week and no one else applying..."
"Yes thank you Mrs Jenkins I think you have run that fat mouth of yours quite enough." The butler hissed, his thin lips twisting into a snarl as two high spots of colour appeared on his pasty looking face, a sure sign of a temper about to explode.
"Yes Mr Philips." Mrs Jenkins replied at once contrite. "It's just too hard, I can't run the kitchen all by myself and look after the house, if we took her on under probation week by week?"
Then perhaps it was providence or perhaps another more suspect power but the sharp ring of a servant's bell disturbed the tense atmosphere. Clearly flustered as he tried to regain his composure before rushing off to tend to the Judge the butler shrugged his shoulders. "Fine probation but I will insist on close supervision, and the moment something is broken or goes missing she's out!"
"Yes sir of course." A relieved Mrs Jenkins called out after the rapidly departing butler. "Well now that's settled my dear perhaps it would be best if I showed you around the house."
---
Sighing deeply Nellie Lovett sank willingly into her new bed. It had been a long day. After Mrs Jenkins had shown her around the house and instructed her on her daily tasks Nellie had been given leave to pop home and collect a few possessions, something made easier by the fact that Nellie had already sold everything that wasn't essential or of deep sentimental value. Even her beloved shop wouldn't be her's much longer as the agent had assured her he had several potential buyers lined up all eager to take such a good location off her hands. Then it hadn't taken much to play on the good nature of her neighbour Mr Cooper, who had his boy carry her trunk all the way to Judge Turpin's, while Nellie popped into the locksmiths and purchased a nice new bolt for her bedroom door.
The bolt now fitted Nellie felt safe enough to relax and mull over the evening's other events.
She had been right about the silence, the house was practically empty and by her estimation woefully understaffed. Mrs Jenkins seemed to run the kitchen singlehandedly, acting as housekeeper, kitchen maid and even scullery. Mr Philips, even thinking about him caused Nellie's skin to crawl, took care of matters above stairs answering the door and attending on Judge Turpins every whim. The only other member of staff was Miss Eliza Templeton who Nellie had yet to meet properly. She was Joanna's nurse cum governess and spent must of her time locked away with her young charge. Nellie had only caught a glimpse of her when they passed on the back stairs, a quiet little thing, delicately formed like a china doll with thick dark hair and what seemed to be large blue eyes, although they may have been green, the light was hardly good enough to tell.
Dinner had been illuminating. She had had lively meals all by herself with only the roaches for company. The Judge had dined out; therefore, Miss Templeton had eaten with Joanna in her room, leaving Nellie to 'enjoy' the company of Mr Philips and Mrs Jenkins. There had been limited conversation. Poor Mrs Jenkins had tried, but with Mr Philips sneering at her over his water glass and mocking her honest attempts at conversation, the poor old dear had retreated into herself and focused solely on her plate. Mr Philips had then turned his attention to Nellie herself and everything from the way she held her knife, to the fact she once let her elbow graze the tabletop, came under his criticism.
The only way she held her tongue was to focus on why she was here, to befriend Joanna, that and imaging how that smug ginger bleeder would look with her potatoes smashed into his sneering face. Nellie knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to crack her, get her angry, find her weakness and then exploit it. The man was a bully just like his master but she wasn't going to let him bully her, she'd spent her life surrounded by scum like him and become tougher because it. Of course if he ever decided that verbal taunts where not enough Nellie was more than ready for him.
Reaching into her pocket Nellie relished the cool weight in her hand, the filigree handle fitting easily into her palm, the metal quickly warming from her body heat. It was true she would have gotten more at the pawnshop for a full set but somehow she couldn't bear to part with them all, after all apart for Joanna herself they were the only part of him left. Pulling out the ornate razor, Nellie flipped the blade open, smiling as the shiny surface reflected her features. Besides her new friend my just come in useful one day.