A/N: Thank you, Chelsietx and Manygreentrees for your thoughtful reviews of Chapter 18 :)
***Confusion***
Dear Diary
We were really, really busy in the kitchens without Weary Winnie. I didn't think we'd miss her because she has got into the habit lately of just stopping in the middle of cooking and staring into space. it's strange how nobody ever takes any notice apart from Betty who pulls faces, but Betty is always pulling faces about something. I mean nobody important like Mrs Patmore or Mrs Hughes or Mr Carson ever says a word to Winnie about it.
I wondered what would happen if I did the same so last week I stopped and stared at the rolling pin and right away Mrs Patmore said, "Daisy, you silly girl, wake up, for Heaven's sake!" and a couple of the maids who were helping out sighed and rolled their eyes as well even though I only stood and stared at the rolling pin for exactly eleven and a half seconds (I was counting in my head) and Betty smirked and said Daisy Daydream in that horrible sarcastic way of hers so I didn't try it again.
I asked Winnie once what she was thinking about and I didn't do that again either because it was scary. She glared at me and shouted, "Connie White, whatever are you doing here when you should be out cleaning the steps? And the mistress says the brass door knocker needs a good polishing again too. Go, go, and do it properly this time!"
I tried to tell her my name wasn't Connie – I'm used to Mrs Hughes calling me Hinny and I don't mind being Hinny as well as Daisy, but I don't think it's a good idea to have three names – but Winnie just kept shooing me away and saying, "Hurry, Connie, hurry!"
Mrs Patmore caught hold of my elbow and said in a low voice, "Come and see to the potatoes" and Weary Winnie got very upset and said, "I can't possibly clean the steps and polish the door knocker on my own. I have far too much to do already!"
"You mustn't worry, Winnie, I'll make sure Connie does it," Mrs Patmore said, and she whispered for me to carry on as usual and said that Winnie was very old and getting confused, that was all, and after a bit Winnie went back stirring the sauce as if nothing had happened. (She did not stare at the sauce in case you are getting mixed up. Well, she stared at the sauce when she began staring but she did not stir the sauce when she was staring and then she stirred the sauce when she stopped staring. I thought it best I explained so you wouldn't be confused.)
Another time, Winnie asked me if Henry was still away at sea and got very angry when I told her I don't know anyone called Henry and asked why I was pretending I didn't know Henry when I'd been married to him for six years and we had four children!
It reminds me of when Mam was very ill and she said she'd met our next door neighbour Mrs Fogerty at the butcher's buying scrag ends of mutton even though Mam hadn't been out of bed for days and Mrs Fogerty had moved down to Devon years ago.
Lizzie told me about how you have a baby last night, but it is rude and you need a boy and my face is burning thinking about what she said so I don't know if I can write it. She said she had something Very Important to tell me when I was busy trying to read Tom Sawyer. I had only read about Aunt Polly and his brother Sid being a sneak so far and Lizzie kept interrupting. (Not in the book. Lizzie is not in the story.) I mean it was too dark to see with only the moon shining on the snow and we don't have a gas lamp in our room like Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes have in their offices because they are high up servants. I just thought of something.
If the lords and ladies are called Upstairs shouldn't they sleep in the attics? I don't think they would like it, though, as it would be too cold for them. And if they slept on the roof to be even higher up they might fall off and be killed and if they got killed they wouldn't need any servants so that is probably why they don't. I hope you didn't believe me about the roof. I am not being serious, of course. But it is puzzling that they don't sleep in the attics if they're Upstairs, isn't it?
Last Friday, Miss Hunt heard Lizzie and me complaining about our room being cold and she said we should be grateful we had a room and a bed to sleep in as back in her mother's day servants sometimes had to sleep on the kitchen floor! I don't know if I believe her, do you? But if it's true I am glad I live in modern times.
Lizzie was mithering me so much by wittering on about Ben last night that in the end I gave up and put Tom Sawyer under my pillow. It hurt my head but I thought Lizzie might hide it. The book, I mean, not my head.*
She got so annoyed about me reading once that she hid my book and I couldn't find it anywhere until Miss Hunt stormed into the kitchen and shouted, "Does anybody know what Jane Eyre is doing in the middle of the sheets?"
I was busy sweeping up the crockery (I only broke one cup this week and Mrs Patmore says it's a blessing I'm getting better else we'd have to start using jam jars to drink from. I hope she is joking because I am not sure we have enough jam jars.) I went red but before I could say anything, Anna, who is Lady Mary's lady's maid, said just before she collected something and went out again, "Making an excellent job of the laundry, I hope, Miss Hunt!" and Thomas smirked and said to Wilf who was bringing mountains of vegetables with Mr Fletcher in from the garden for us to cook, "Best ask whoever's in the sheets with her!"
Old Mr Fletcher overheard Thomas and said sternly, "Do you mind? There are ladies present. You've even made young Daisy blush like a beetroot" (Don't you think it's the bee's knees that Mr Fletcher immediately thought about beetroot when he is head gardener? And I read a book about name meanings and his first name Silas is Latin for wood or forest! It's like he was always meant to be standing in the middle of a garden!)
Then Thomas said, "I'm surprised Daisy knows what I'm talking about. She's a dark horse, is our Daisy!"
Miss Hunt was getting madder and madder and said fiercely, "I will not tolerate this juvenile nonsense. I am getting very tired of people not answering my question and making silly comments and it will be reported if it doesn't stop" but I think it was because Mrs Patmore was with Mrs Hughes so they weren't there to join in.
Suddenly Lizzie came hurrying into the kitchens out of breath and said, "Miss Hunt, Carrie says she heard Jane Eyre was in sheets. Please can Jane help me with the ironing instead?"
Miss Hunt threw the book down and I went even redder and said, "It's my book, Miss Hunt."
Miss Hunt was about to yell at me, but Lizzie saw the book and owned up she hid it and I didn't know a thing about it. She is a good friend when she is not hiding my books. I found out later that she thought my book was called Jane Eerier because she doesn't read words very well and she was very disappointed Jane Eyre wasn't a new laundry maid. She was going to hide it in the blue cupboard in a place where she said I'd never have found it as it was such a good hiding place, but she heard footsteps so had to hide it fast in the fresh laundry pile instead.
Honestly, I think I was the only person in Downton Abbey who knew what was going on! I have no idea why Anna thought Jane Eyre was a real person doing laundry or why Thomas thought it was a real person doing the laundry with someone else and what horses had to do with anything. It is a good job I am here, isn't it? When I say my prayers I always ask God to help them all.
Weary Winnie stopped the sauce to stir
to simply stand and stare
and none turned a hair
so one day I too did dare
thinking none would care
but there were sighs of despair
from everywhere
and yet they would swear
that they saw Jane Eyre
who was nowhere
so I do declare
I will say a prayer
that God may help them be aware
of who is and who isn't there
ps That long line that looks like a Y is where Lizzie has just nudged my elbow when she turned over in her sleep. It is not a secret message.
ps (2) I will have to stop writing now. It's too dark.
*mither (Northern English) to annoy someone
**witter (Informal English) talk constantly about trivial matters