and, as Emma is looking for work, maybe she’d like the position.’
‘What sort of pay are you offering?’
‘It will depend on how many hours she works but approximately one pound ten shillings. If you’re agreeable a portion of that could be stopped each week to pay off the arrears.’
Without thought, Emma flung the door open. ‘Dad, I don’t want to be a cleaner!’
Mr Bell looked at her briefly, but then his eyes narrowed. ‘Well, Mr Chambers, if Emma isn’t prepared to work for me, I must insist that you now pay the rent in full.’
‘I haven’t got it. I can give you this week’s rent and a couple of bob off the arrears.’
‘No, that isn’t good enough.’ He then opened his briefcase, taking out a sheet of paper. ‘This is an eviction notice and states that you must vacate the premises in one week’s time.’
‘Wait, hold on. What if Emma takes the job?’
‘As I said, the arrears can be deducted from her wages. However, this doesn’t mean that I’ll allow any further to accrue. I’ll expect the current rent to be paid on time, each week, without fail.’
‘Agreed. Right, she’ll start on Monday. I’ll leave you to sort out the details with her.’ On that note Tom Chambers turned to go back inside.
Dick held the door open, saying to his father, ‘Hang on. Emma said she doesn’t want to be a cleaner.’
‘She’ll do as she’s bloody well told!’
Emma saw her brother’s face darken with anger and broke in quickly, ‘It’s all right, Dick. I don’t mind.’ In truth she hated the idea, but there was no choice. If she didn’t work for Mr Bell they’d all be out on the street.
‘Are you sure, Emma?’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said, and as Dick withdrew, he left the door ajar.
She turned to face Mr Bell and for a moment his eyes roamed over her body. There was something in his expression that made her shiver, but then he spoke brusquely.
‘Right, Emma. As I said, I need someone to look after my house. Here’s my address, and I’ll expect you on Monday morning at eight.’
She looked at the piece of paper he handed her. ‘Er…I’m not sure where this is.’
‘My house faces Clapham Common, and isn’t far from St Barnabas’ Church.’
Emma swallowed. It was a long walk. Nervously she asked, ‘Could I start at nine? I…I’d like to get the children off to school before I leave.’
For a moment his lips tightened, but then he nodded. ‘Very well. I’m not a hard man, or a hard employer. I’m sure we’ll jog along nicely.’
He reached out to pat her arm, and Emma shivered again at his touch.
‘Goodbye, my dear. I’ll see you on Monday.’
He smiled again, this time warmly, and Emma relaxed a little. Maybe it would be all right. She could cope with housework. After all, she’d had plenty of practice.
‘I start on Monday,’ she told her father as she went back inside.
‘Good. Get the dinner dished up and then I’m off out again.’
As Emma spooned the stew onto tin plates, she consoled herself with the knowledge that at least the family were safe from eviction. Then another thought struck her and she smiled. Once the arrears were paid off she could leave. After all, what would there be to stop her?
On Monday morning Emma was frantically trying to get the children off to school. Susan was unusually compliant, but after the telling-off Emma and Dick had given her, it wasn’t surprising.
‘Come on, off you go,’ Emma urged. ‘I won’t be home until after five o’clock, so do as Luke tells you, and don’t forget your little jobs.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll see to them,’ Luke said, and Emma smiled gratefully, again thankful that he was such a sensible and intelligent boy. As they all trooped out she watched them for a moment. Surely, even after Mr Bell taking some of the arrears out of her wages, she’d have enough left to start buying them all some decent clothes. She cast a quick glance around the room, making sure the fire was doused, and then five minutes after the children, she left for her first day at work. It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but even so, she felt a spark of excitement to be out of the dismal flat and facing something new, albeit someone else’s housework.
The June day was warm and Emma’s feet were already aching from the long walk as she approached Mr Bell’s street, but she couldn’t fail to notice the difference. The air here was cleaner than at home, with no taint of smoke from factory chimneys. The houses she walked alongside were large, immaculate, smacking of wealth, and on the opposite side was Clapham Common, a wide expanse of green grass and trees.
She passed St Barnabas’ Church and soon after was standing outside Mr Bell’s house. Like the neighbouring ones, it was huge and four storeys high. Emma took in the lovely, mellow red-brick façade and, her heart jumping with nerves, she tentatively walked down a drive lined with huge rhododendron bushes. There were bay windows on the ground floor, and a wide stone staircase leading to the front door. For a moment she halted, floundering. Should she use the front entrance or look for one at the side? Unsure, she decided on the front, hand trembling as she rang the bell.
When the door opened, Mr Bell stood there, a wide smile on his face. ‘You found it then,’ he said unnecessarily.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, shocked that he had answered the door himself. Surely in a house this size there were other staff? Mr Bell gestured her inside. Her eyes rounded as she followed him into a large hall with a sweeping, carpet-covered staircase. They almost popped out when she was led into a huge, plush room with wonderful views across the Common. The furniture looked sumptuous, large sofas with mahogany side tables, these covered with a thin layer of dust. Huge gilt-framed paintings lined the walls, and inlaid cabinets held beautiful porcelain figurines.
‘This is the drawing room,’ Mr Bell said, indicating that she should sit down, waiting until Emma perched nervously on the edge of a gilt and brocade chair. ‘I’m afraid I have to go out on business this morning,’ he continued, ‘so I’ll leave you to find your way around. You’ll find all the cleaning materials you need in a room just off the kitchen, and a Hoover.’
‘A…a Hoover?’
‘It’s a machine for vacuuming the rugs.’
Emma swallowed deeply, in awe of Mr Bell and his beautiful house. Her voice quavered as she spoke. ‘Is…is there anyone to show me how to use it?’
For a moment he looked nonplussed. ‘Well, no, I’m afraid you’ll be on your own. I did have a daily, but she proved to be untrustworthy. When my wife, Isabelle, was alive, we kept a couple of staff, but when she died I let them go.’
Emma knew that, nervous or not, she would have to speak up now or she never would. ‘Mr Bell, this is a huge house and I don’t see how I can manage to clean it on my own.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Emma. On this floor you will only have to clean this room, along with the dining room and my study. Oh, and of course the kitchen, which is at the back of the house, with a laundry room and scullery. On the first floor I use the front bedroom and bathroom, but the rest of the bedrooms are closed and can be left.’
Emma’s shoulders slumped with relief, but then she sat up again as Mr Bell continued.
‘As for the Hoover, I’m sure you’ll work it out. I think you just plug it into the wall, and off it goes.’ Mr Bell glanced at the ornate clock on the