Chapter Six

Next day, Alec lurked about the kitchen door until at last Milly appeared, on her way down to the laundry with an armful of purple cloth.
"Milly. Can I talk to you a minute?"
She shot him a dazzling smile, then made a regretful face.
"I can't. I've got to get the spilt tea stain out of Miss Sharpe's lilac wool. She wants to wear it today."
"It's important."
"All right." She smiled again. "Come down to the laundry with me."
Milly led him down the narrow steps to the steamy basement room. Fortunately, the laundry maids were out hanging sheets to air so they were alone. Milly got a bottle of vinegar and mixed a few drops with some water. She spread out the skirt on an ironing board and began dabbing away at a brown stain down the front.
Alec just stood and watched her work, hypnotised by a kind of sinking dread.
"Well?" She shot a look over her shoulder, that bright smile still on her face.
"About yesterday...Milly." He found himself moving from one foot to the other in his agitation. "I shouldn't have done what I did..."
Her hand froze. As did her smile. She put down the cloth and turned very slowly to face him. "What do you mean?"
"What happened. I didn't mean it to." He steeled himself. "Milly, I never should have let things go so far but you're so nice to spend time with and all, and I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea -"
"Me? Got the wrong idea? You kissed me, Alec Scudder! Or don't you remember?"
"Well, I - got carried away. It can't go any further."
Milly took a step toward him, almost beseechingly, then stopped, her arms falling heavily to her sides. When she spoke again her normally pleasant, lilting voice was tight with barely-controlled anger. "Well, this is grand, isn't it? For the second time, no less! I suppose you think I should feel honoured that you bothered to actually tell me in person this time. Can you not control yourself? I mean, I've known men to get a bit ...affectionate, but you take the biscuit! You conniving...oh, I've nothing to do today so I think I'll just kiss Milly to pass the time. What do you think I am?"
"I think you're a very nice girl."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do. But - you see - I'm already promised to another."
She gave an inarticulate shriek, and the vinegar bottle shot across the room straight at his head. He ducked, and it smashed into pieces against the wall, vinegar and chips of glass spraying all over his hair and jacket.
Milly was crying now, great heaving sobs, her tears falling unheeded onto the purple dress. Alec watched her for a few moments, unsure what to do. He heard feminine footsteps rushing down the stairs.

"Milly - what is the matter? Dear girl..." Cook and the upstairs housemaid converged on her, the housemaid casting a poisonous look in Alec's direction as she passed. Milly started crying harder.
Alec made his escape.
That afternoon he handed in his notice.

Milly sat on the narrow bed in her attic room, staring sightlessly at the wall opposite, her foot tap-tapping on the floor, a well-used handkerchief twisting constantly between her hands. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her nose red, sore and chapped-looking.
I'd have done anything for him. I wanted him more than anything...even my dear Edward, I know it, may God forgive me. With Alec it felt different. And then when he came back...a second chance for me, it felt like.
It ain't right. Leading a girl on, then casting her aside like an old boot. Not once but twice. Does he think I've got no self- respect? I'm not talking to him ever again that's for sure...
Yet only a few minutes later her thoughts veered away onto an entirely different and somewhat unwelcome track. Milly knew she shouldn't torment herself, but she couldn't help it.
That kiss can't have been for nothing...
On Sunday she determined to go to his house, see this fancy woman, or whoever she was, that he had clearly kept stowed away in town. No wonder he didn't want to live-in. Milly wanted to see this girl. See if she could compete.

Sunday. Milly stood in the shadow of a large tree. Alec's lodgings, his address supplied for her by a quick bit of research in Mr Chisholm's study by the sympathetic upstairs housemaid, had turned out to be an awful lot nicer than the boarding-house she had expected. It was in a square lined with solid, respectable houses with a leafy garden occupying the centre. A garden where she now lurked, listening to the crunch of perambulator wheels on gravel paths behind her, the lazy Sunday voices of people passing by. She tried to look as inconspicuous as possible but was starting to feel rather uncomfortable and was thinking of leaving when Alec suddenly appeared, up the stairs from the basement flat.
How on earth does he pay for that?
He stood on the pavement, leaning against the iron railings, hands in pockets and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
Is he waiting for her? She scanned the footpaths, seeking a likely young female. Not as respectable as the young matrons passing by of course - someone who looked more like a town servant - a bit flashy no doubt, with a dress a few seasons old passed on by her mistress and an over-decorated hat. There was no-one in sight yet, who even remotely fitted the bill.
The door to the main house opened and a man emerged. It was lucky Milly had a tree trunk to lean back against or her knees would have given out and she'd have dropped to the ground.
Mr Hall. She'd recognise him anywhere. The thick dark hair, handsome features, tall frame. How could she forget him - it was disgusting the way he and Mr Durham had carried on, right in front of her as if she didn't even exist - and in the Blue Room no less! Simcox had seen them at it too. But what on earth was he doing here?
He bounded down the stairs and went right up to Alec. Alec's slightly sullen air transformed into a smile and they walked off down the street together.
Milly groped for a park bench like a blind woman, collapsed onto it. Pieces of the puzzle were coming together in her mind, swiftly now, and she was amazed she hadn't seen the connections before. Of course the staff all knew that some disgrace had befallen Mr Hall - the Durhams just couldn't help but talk in front of them, invisible as servants were to the gentry. It's as if they think we were born without ears to hear or eyes to see. Mr Hall had all but disappeared it seemed...at exactly the same time as Alec. She couldn't believe it. Alec Scudder - and Mr Hall. Together. Simcox must have guessed - he always knew everything. Damn him for not telling her.
Whatever Alec was up to with that Mr Hall, it wasn't right. Unnatural. And to think she'd actually considered marrying him! Milly shuddered, felt herself growing cold. She didn't know whether she felt better or worse about it; that she'd been thrown over not once but twice for a man, rather than another woman.

Riding the omnibus back, Milly surprised even herself when a feeling of compassion began to gain the upper hand in her turbulent thoughts. This unexpected magnanimous mood was helped along more than a little by the sudden recollection that Mum and Dad's neighbour's son Tom had for a while been taking more than a passing interest in her whenever she went home to visit. Unfortunately, in the last few months she'd somewhat given him the cold shoulder, since Alec had reappeared in her life. Respectable small business man, Tom was. In fact, she was going to her parents' for dinner that very night. Maybe she'd see him...
Anyway, she ought to let bygones be bygones. It was the Christian thing to do. In the spirit of the past she really ought to try and help save Alec from himself. Mum might still have Hannah Scudder's address from when the two families got to know each other a little while the Scudders were up at the village looking for any trace of their son. She'd write to them, tell them the situation and the circumstances. They had a right to know.
And tonight, if she saw him, she'd be much nicer to Tom. It might not be too late.

Edith held out her hand. It was shaking slightly, she wondered if he noticed.
"Well, I'm very sorry to see you go, Mr Hall."
Well, that's the understatement of the year, isn't it, Edith you ridiculous girl?
"I'm sorry too Ed - Miss Stanton. I'd much rather stay here but circumstances just don't allow..." Maurice had concocted a story about a family crisis down in London, an ailing mother, a widowed sister who needed him nearby, etcetera.
Poor Chapman...to add insult to injury I've killed him off now, too.
She'd changed her hair since he'd last seen her - it was in a modern style now, a bob he believed it was called - very short. Her style of dress seemed to have altered too, though he couldn't say how. He hoped Alec wasn't right, about her being sweet on him. Because he did like her, though not in that way, and didn't like to think he'd made her unhappy.
Alec and I seem to be making a habit of that these days. Making other people unhappy. He was glad the month was early up and they could go. Alec was having a rotten time at his work, with most of the female staff not speaking to him in solidarity with their fellow wronged maid. At least he was an outdoor servant so didn't have to mix with them so much in any case.
Miss Stanton was leaving the office now, in rather a hurry it seemed, the sound of her last farewell lingering longer than she did as the glass-panelled doors swung closed behind her. He glanced out the window and watched her walk past. She was moving fast, head down. He couldn't see her face.
Maurice sighed, sat down at his desk and picked up his pen.
So that was that.