As it turns out, it is easy to become a maid and not so easy to actually be a maid. With the notices in my hand, I set off to find myself a place. As Mrs. Hudson's reaction to me earlier that day had proven, I was capable of looking the part. Despite my lack of references, I was hired at the first home I visited. I gave my name as Mary Leigh. Only someone who knew me would discover me behind that name.
My work began immediately. That first day, I dusted and polished every inch of woodwork in that home! In between, I hauled hot water up and dirty water down the stairs. I even had the chore of emptying the chamber pots, an extremely nauseating job I hope never to perform again!
What followed was an excruciatingly long week. I vowed to never again take for granted anyone who worked for me, but especially my much loved Mrs. Leigh! I'd truly never considered the work that servants had done for me and my parents. It was a humbling consideration.
I was exhausted when I collapsed onto my bed that, and every other, night. My determination to seek out my parents had not diminished, so when I was sent to the market for some fresh fish early the second morning, I made a detour to the telegraph office. I sent out ten telegrams, seriously depleting my funds. I made arrangements to return for any responses, giving the name of Mary Leigh.
Also, I sent a message to the Leighs' to assure them I was fine. Just to be cautious, I chose not tell them where I was or what I was doing.
I learned nothing that week save that a maid is a resilient person. I'd received no responses to my messages; obviously, they had not been regarded as important. And I was finding myself the recipient of some unwanted attention from the oldest boy of the house.
Tired, and more than a little homesick, I made my way once again to Baker Street on my first day off. This time, I knew to wait for the housekeeper.
She seemed as weary as I felt. "Are you here for the position?"
On the verge of denying this and explaining the situation, I paused. If I was to be a maid while waiting, what better place to wait than here? And where else would I be safer than in the home of the famous Mr. Sherlock Holmes? "Yes, ma'am," I said, striving for a meek tone. "My name is Mary Leigh. I'd half expected the position to be gone by now."
"I am Mrs. Hudson. You're American, aren't you?" Mrs. Hudson asked, turning and allowing me in. She limped along the hallway, leading the way to the kitchen. There, she sank gratefully into a chair and motioned around the kitchen. "If you would be so kind?"
"My mother was American," I admitted, taking off my hat and coat. I set these articles aside and started searching for what I needed in the cupboards. My maid persona was already firmly in mind. "I must tell you I've only been in a position of this sort once before."
Mrs. Hudson nodded once, her manner cold and distant. "You do understand this is temporary?" she asked. She nodded at her ankle. "Dr. Watson says a month or two of rest is necessary before I can do everything that I normally do."
"A bad fall, was it?" I asked, reaching for the already hot kettle.
"Quite a bad fall," Mrs. Hudson answered, watching my every move carefully. "And here I am with boarders to take care of. Goodness knows, Mr. Holmes needs every bit of looking after as I can-." She broke off suddenly, looking guilty. "Never mind that."
Amused, I poured the tea. "Milk or sugar?" I asked. She declined both, so I handed the housekeeper a cup and took a seat opposite her. "Although I have no references, I assure you I am a hard worker, Mrs. Hudson. If you wish, there can be a trial of a week or two."
Seriously, Mrs. Hudson sipped her tea. "Mind, if you're caught running to the papers with tales of Mr. Holmes, you will be turned off," the woman warned.
"Naturally!" I responded, successfully getting a tone of haughtiness. "What the great detective does is of no concern to anyone but himself, and his clients. Am I to assume that I'm hired then?"
For the first time, the housekeeper smiled. "A trial," she answered. "It has been quite the experience locating a maid."
Delighted, I set my cup down. "I can imagine that would be true if most of the applicants were only interested in being close to Mr. Holmes," I stated, smiling as Mrs. Hudson's face betrayed surprise. "It's not very hard to guess. You let slip just enough to tempt any gossiper and, coupled with the warning, what other conclusion would I come to?"
"You're right," Mrs. Hudson acknowledged. "The only other one who didn't try to get more information from me on the subject was a poor simple girl who broke four of my tea cups." She frowned at me. "Don't expect that you'll be trying to match wits with Mr. Sherlock when he's here. You may be bright enough, but he has no time to be concerned with-."
"Ma'am, I assure you, I have no interest in trying to out think Mr. Holmes," I interrupted firmly. The possibility of having a match of wits with the great man settled in my mind, though. It was certainly something my mother would have encouraged me to try.
Satisfied, Mrs. Hudson nodded and stood up. "I'll show you to your room," she said, "and then acquaint you with your duties."
The housekeeper at my first house didn't look surprised when I told her I wouldn't be returning. My new housemaid duties began the very next morning at 6 o'clock promptly. I began by making tea for Mrs. Hudson. I took hot water up to Apartment A for Colonel Forest. I helped Mrs. Hudson prepare breakfast for her tenant, and then I took it up to the colonel.
I'd managed to learn that Mrs. Hudson didn't know when the detective and his companion would return. So, on the one hand, I was glad I had a place to stay, safe from whatever mysterious persons who meant me harm. Still, I could not wait for when I could drop the role I was playing.
Colonel Forest was, at first, an amusing old gentleman. He related some war tale every time I brought him tea. Then, I realized just how much he resented his neighbor, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and the visitors that came at all hours of the night. I also discovered he was a very particular person, and I had to be careful of how I cleaned in his rooms.
While I had to perform many of the same duties as my first position, I found this one to be much more enjoyable. Mrs. Hudson seemed to take me on a sort of adopted granddaughter.
On the morning of the third day, Mrs. Hudson sighed in resignation. "The pair of them are sure to return any moment now. Mr. Holmes' rooms need cleaning, Mary," the housekeeper said. "While Mr. Holmes won't notice the dust, Dr. Watson will. Be sure you don't move a single paper. That, Mr. Holmes would notice."
"Would he?"
"And a right fuss he'd make over it," Mrs. Hudson verified. "So just do what you can without moving a thing."
I nodded and set off to do my job. I went up the stairs, my cleaning supplies in the one hand and all of Mr. Holmes' and Dr. Watson's correspondence in the other. I paused outside the door leading to their rooms. This would be my first time entering, and I was feeling a little excited.
I, Serena Mary Norton, was about to enter the domain of the world's only consulting detective.
My rational mind reasserted itself within moments, and I shook my head. "Stop being an excitable girl and do your job," I ordered myself. I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
Stepping inside, I made sure to close the door behind me. The rooms were quite dark as the drapes were tightly closed. There was also a cold, dampness which told me the two occupants had been gone for quite some time. While I couldn't do anything about the coldness, I could brighten things up. So I flung the drapes open.
With more light, I was able to survey the main room in better detail. Thanks to Dr. Watson's descriptions in his stories, I had expected untidiness. However, the degree to which things were out of place took me aback somewhat. That a great mind could operate in such conditions was astonishing.
Papers were everywhere, even on the floor. I spotted a pair of house slippers on a shelf in the corner. There were the letters held in place on the mantel by a jack knife. There was a general disarray to the whole place, though I found Dr. Watson's room in reasonable good order.
Mindful of Mrs. Hudson's emphatic instructions, I set to dusting every clear surface. As I worked, I bumped a stack of papers, sending them clattering to the floor. Cringing, I hastily stacked them up. In doing so, my eyes fell on a gorgeous, black violin case.
"The Stradivarius?" I breathed in awe. I'd read every one of Dr. Watson's stories in the Strand, and knew this was a very fine instrument. I was unable to stop myself from opening the lid. The light gleamed off the polished wood. "Beautiful! How you must sing!"
A thump outside the room brought me to my senses. I quickly closed the lid and snatched up the last papers. The door burst open and I spun around. My eyes widened at the sight of a bent over, old man. His grimy clothes were very worn, and his torn hat was low over his face.
"May I help you, Sir?" I asked. "I'm afraid Mr. Holmes is not here."
I had the feeling I was being scrutinized from beneath that old hat. "I'll wait," he croaked out.
"Really, sir, we do not know when Mr. Holmes will be here," I explained, trying to dissuade him. I wondered how he'd gotten in here. I hadn't heard the bell. At any rate, I wasn't about to let him stay! "If you would leave your name, I will be sure Mr. Holmes gets it when he returns."
The man cackled with laughter. "And what if I'm here to see Dr. Watson?" he asked. He moved towards a chair.
"Then, I will tell Dr. Watson," I answered, firmly. I stepped in front of him. "Though, as Dr. Watson is not practicing his medical skills in general, and he has few clients, I doubt you are here for his services."
Again, the man laughed, though this time he seemed delighted. "Is that the door?" he asked abruptly.
I half turned towards the door, but I heard nothing. When I turned back, the man was standing up straight, old hat in hand. I gasped in shock. A pair of intense grey eyes were staring at me. "Really, I believe Watson will be arriving at any moment," Sherlock Holmes stated. "Forgive me for frightening you."
"Frightened? Oh, no! That wonderfully done! As well or better than any actor on stage!" I exclaimed impulsively. I cringed as I belatedly realized I'd broken one of the main rules of a housemaid: never offer your opinion to your employer. "I beg your pardon, sir."
But, he seemed not to have noticed my lapse. Instead, Sherlock Holmes was studying me with interest and delight. "Thank you," he said. He held out his hand. "Those belong to me, I believe."
I know I blushed furiously. "Sorry, Mr. Holmes," I said, handing them over. I gestured to the stack I'd been fixing. "I'm afraid I knocked them over."
"Understandable given the state of my lodgings," Mr. Holmes responded, tossing the papers onto a completely different stack without even glancing at them. "A fire would be in order now I believe. Also, hot water as soon as it can be brought up. And tea in a few hours. Dr. Watson will be needing all three."
"Right away, Mr. Holmes," I said, backing to the door. I bobbed a small curtsy, grabbed my supplies, and made a quick exit. I felt like such a fool! As I went to the kitchen, my only consolation was that I would not be in this role much longer as I would be explaining my story at the first opportunity.
Mrs. Hudson looked up from her mending as I entered the kitchen. "What is it?" she asked immediately.
"Mr. Holmes has requested hot water and then tea, in a few hours," I answered, getting to work on fulfilling the first of those orders.
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Hudson said, looking faintly worried. "I do hope he didn't startle you, Mary. He is an eccentric man."
I smiled. "Oh, he did startle me for a moment, but nothing more," I answered and then explained the circumstances. Thoughtfully, Mrs. Hudson helped fill the buckets as I hauled the water upstairs. There was no sign of Mr. Holmes as I lit the fire. On my way down, I went past a very weary looking man. He nodded, acknowledging me and then went up to Apartment B.
Dr. Watson, then. I wondered what they had been doing that they should arrive separately and the doctor to look so tired. After a moment, I decided it really was none of my business.
A/N: This chapter ended up being a little longer than I expected.