B. Johnson - House Mother Normal

The house itself I loved from the first moment I

saw it, though it meant servitude to me, it was

the people who made me a servant

walking from the village with Megan Williams along

the galloping drive, miles of rhododendrons,

suddenly you could see a top corner of the house,

black-and-white, but big, bigger than any other

black-and-white I’d seen, though when you were

nearer you could see it wasn’t wood, it was a black-

and-white pattern in plaster or something like

that but it was a lovely house, I forgave

it that cheating.

the hall Hall

the portrait of Miss Eirwen and the

tiny the panelling was oak, it took

some polishing and a great brassbound

trunk, with studs it broke my heart

that place died in 1939, died,

they told me

Even took away my name, didn’t like Sioned,

wouldn’t call me that, or even Janet, gave me

a new name to suit them, Emma, that I hated

most of all, I think.

Alyn Llywelyn said fuckit in bead-threading. I

did not know what it meant then. I don’t think

he did, either. Miss Jones made a fuss about it,

she washed out his mouth with soap and water. We

did not understand, but he was careful what he said

after that. In fact, from that day on he was never

a great talker, was Alyn Llywelyn.

Bowen gowen. Yes, Ivy, you made a

rhyme. No one’s ever made up a rhyme about my name

before, never. Yes, we are doing well . I’ll

have to catch up or I won’t beat her.

Mr David worked in the Small Library.

I would take coffee to him, with biscuits on a

tray from the still-room or the

kitchen He would speak to

me in Welsh, which I did not usually use among

the other servants. His wife had

died before I came to the Hall, he had spent

much of his time at his sisters’ place since then.

He would be working at

the Welsh books the Small Library

was a cosy place

sometimes he liked to talk to me,

made me feel proud of being Welsh

the other servants were all

trying to ape being English, there was very little

Welsh spoken in the kitchen

The Factor hated to hear Welsh spoken, he swore

and bullied us if he heard us.

May we receive that which for

grateful until ever after

no one came

was to be successful

in the fullness, the first place

The Lyons over Hammersmith station. Would go

there for tea in the war, no meal could cost

more than five shillings. Essential warwork,

indeed! Better than the British Restaurants

or the canteen at Fuller’s. But even in the war,

Fuller’s gave you your wedding cake if you were

getting married, free. Told him that, but he

said he wasn’t going to get tied down just for

the sake of an unrationed wedding cake. We’re

happy as we are, he said, Aren’t we?

What’s he want now,

filthy old man always fingering his backside.

Glue? Yes, here. And have

Ivy’s, too, then you won’t have to stretch over

and hurt yourself so much. All right

now? Have to be.

How many of these does she want us to do?

on and on Still, Ivy’ll

tell me when she thinks it’s enough, Ivy’s doing

the organising here

Finish at last

I’ll say we’ve done a good session. Worked my

poor old fingers into an ache. Glad that’s

over for one day. It makes a difference.

I’ve worked harder than Ron, I’m four or five

ahead of him, spare, all those. I’m good. Yes ,

here’s my bits and pieces, Ivy, and good riddance!

Yes, pack them neatly in, crackers

for Christmas .

Why can’t we have some different coloured paper?

I’m fed up with this sort of red, rotten red.

I may not be very but I am

Here she comes. I hope she’ll like what we’ve done.

Ron is stupid. They’re not

bad, are they, Miss?

Better than hers, anyway –

Oooh — she hasn’t done any, Mrs Ridge! How

does she get away with it?

So tired now. I’ll drop off

in my chair soon if she doesn’t watch out.

Pass the Parcel.

Haven’t played that since I was a child. Sweets it

was usually, very small packet of sweets wrapped

round and round and round with lots and lots and

lots of paper and string and brown sticky paper.

It was such a let-down in the end, but that made

it all the more fun and it meant that all those

who didn’t win were less disappointed when it

turned out to be next to nothing.

Oh, it’s my turn.

Parcel feels exciting. On to George.

Marvellous, he moves. Passed it to Sarah, as well!

He must be getting better, old George. You never

know, he might even say something next. That would

be a miracle!

She shouldn’t keep it, you can’t trust that Mrs Ridge

to be fair in the slightest. Oh, the

music’s stopped, and Ron’s the one to open it. I

wonder what it can be?

Eh? Not very nice at all! Why did she do that?

Poor old Ron, I feel sorry for him, his backside in

that sort of state, too. It’s not right at all.

The Factor was a swine,

a swine. And he was a villain, too. He came

there with hardly a penny to his name, and died

worth twenty thousand. How he got it is a long

story. He would tell the sisters things had been

done on the estate when he knew very well they

hadn’t. And he’d pocket the money, of course.

One day Miss Mary called me in to her in the great

drawing room and asked me if I knew where the Factor

was. He’s gone to Birmingham, I said. To pay

the coal bill, she said, but he could have done it

by post, I gave him a cheque. I think she knew

then he was taking a backhander and had gone to

collect it. She would never hear a word against

him until then, that day I think she realised what

a villain he was, but it was too late, she was –

Travel, no, what she means by that is

Don’t mind, passes the time.

But who’s going to push me?

Yes, that

would be good of you, Charlie. A gentle turn

round the hall. Sure you really feel up

to it, though?

When the Factor retired, he made a bonfire of

papers from his office and it burned for three

days. He built his own house, how he ever did

that I’ll never know, out of their money. How

could a man on his salary ever save twenty thousand?

The family knew, of course, and tried to

tell Auntie Mary, but she would hear no word

against him. He even had his own electricity line

from the big house, a mile across the fields,

so he got his light free. Though he did good work,

I’ll agree, but he never did it unless there was

a backhander in it for him. But you could never

prove anything against him, that was the difficulty.

And he had the power of life and death over some of

us, by dismissing us. Not that I ever wished to

prove anything against him, I got on quite well

with him apart — Not at all, Charlie, not at all .

It must have been some time after I came across

his only cousin in Rhyl, near the front, she

looked well and was well off. She would be, of

course.

We’re the last to be exercising. All

the others have given up — Tourney, oh yes, I

won that last time, beat old Ron hollow, though

he does have his troubles down there. Hang on a

minute, Charlie . Lift, adjust, myself.