have enough money left over to cover the fare then thankful that she did, and that procuring it hadn’t been as difficult as she had feared.
With the new ticket safely in her possession, she decided to find the platform straight away. Mindful of the words of her companion on the earlier train, she kept her head down and her bundle clutched tightly to her.
It was only when she reached Platform Two and ascertained that she still had a half hour’s wait before the York train that she felt able to relax a little and take a proper look around. It seemed as though trains were arriving every few minutes, the doors flying open to disgorge a rush of passengers from the second- and third-class carriages, all intent on going about their business, while the first-class passengers descended at a more leisurely pace, looking about them for porters to take their luggage, or strolling away, the ladies elegant in long skirts and tailored coats with glossy fur collars, fashionable feathered hats on their heads, arm in arm with gentlemen in smartly cut suits. Ella stared in awe, saved by the distance from appearing rude. She had never seen such fashionable, well-dressed people before. In Nortonstall, people dressed for practicality and hard work, with their best clothes saved for Sundays and funerals. Such an array of colours and fabrics as was now passing before her was unimaginable. Cream wool coats trimmed with dark brown fur, rich russet jackets bound with black, hats in red or maroon velvet, decorated with great swoops of feathers.
Ella shivered in the cold wind that swept through the station concourse and pulled her shawl tighter around herself, suddenly very conscious of her dowdy appearance. She’d peered into the Ladies’ Waiting Room as she had passed it, but had been too daunted by the smartness of the occupants to consider entering it. The warmly lit interior of the station café was appealing; she would dearly have loved a cup of tea to warm herself, but was worried both about the expense and feeling out of place.
With a great deal of self-important puffing the train for York finally pulled in, sending clouds of steam billowing up to the roof. Ella hung back as the door opened and the wave of passengers swept by. Those in a hurry were already hovering on the running board with the carriage doors open as the train slowed to a halt; others descended at a more leisurely pace, the ladies pulling on gloves and straightening hats, checking on their travelling companions before heading off to – Ella couldn’t imagine what. Shopping? Visiting friends or relatives? A life of leisure activities wasn’t something she had ever thought about, nor did she have time now. Instead, it was time to take her seat in the third-class carriage, mercifully less crowded than before, and to contemplate what might await her at the other end.
Ella followed the other passengers out of York station then hesitated, unsure of which way to turn. She ignored the line of hansom cabs waiting for fares, looking instead to her left and right for someone who might help her with directions. Tucked away at the far corner of the station façade she spotted a vendor selling flowers and made her way towards him. His face brightened at her approach.
‘I wonder, could you help me? I need to get to Knavesmire.’
The man sighed. ‘It’s always directions. Hardly ever a sale. If I had a farthing… Ah well, never mind, I’m happy to help a pretty lass like you, with manners to match.’
He pointed out the route that Ella would need to take, advising her that it was not much over a mile, before he offered her some anemones. Waving away her protests that she couldn’t pay, he pinned a couple of flower heads to her shawl.
‘They’re out of season and I’ve barely enough to sell. It will help brighten up a grey day for you. I wish you luck.’
Ella thanked him for his kindness and set out. Before she turned away from the city, out towards Knavesmire and the countryside beyond, she took a moment to gaze at the high grey-stone walls, set atop great green-carpeted mounds of earth, which surrounded the city. Within, she could make out an imposing church tower and a jumble of roofs while up ahead of her a turreted stone arch, the like of which she had never seen before, linked two sections of the wall over a road that led into the city. Lingering, she wondered whether she had time to step through that arch and discover what lay beyond it. Instead, promising herself that she would return to explore further at the first opportunity, she turned her back on the city and set out, facing into the wind. Before long, the streets of small terraced houses that led off from each side of the road gave way to grander houses set in large plots ranging along one side of the road, facing onto a great swathe of green on the other.
As a chill mist drifted across from Knavesmire, Ella found herself standing before Grange House, a house quite unlike anything she had ever seen. Set back behind a low wall, with a sweep of gravel in front, it had an oddly top-heavy appearance. Two storeys high, with additional windows in the attic, it had a prominent gable at one end, half-timbered at the top only, with this feature repeated around some of the windows and the front door. Perhaps most startling to Ella was the redness of the brick. The houses in Northwaite and Nortonstall were all built of grey stone with grey-slate roofs. This one was set beneath a red-tiled roof, and although the windows had pale sandstone surrounds, the predominant effect, Ella felt, was of a house shouting ‘look at me!’ to anyone who passed by. Her momentary doubt that she had come to the wrong place was quelled by the sight of Mr Ward’s motorcar parked on the immaculately raked gravel in front of a separate brick-built building. Ella, sensing instinctively that she would not be expected to approach the grand front door, looked anxiously around for another way in. She spotted a discreet gate tucked into the side of the wall and, biting her lip in a sudden surge of anxiety and shivering hard in the chill mist that rolled in ever more thickly from across the road, she opened the gate and followed the path round the house.
Her first timid knock at the dark-painted solid door remained unanswered. Steeling herself, she seized the knocker and let it fall once, twice against the wood. Ella was filled with a sense of panic – why had she ever thought it a good idea to leave behind the safety of the hills and valleys where she had spent all her life, where she knew every person, every path, bird and flower, for a place as foreign as this? The thickness of the door blotted out any sounds from within and so Ella, poised to flee, was startled when it opened suddenly, revealing a girl little older than herself in a maid’s uniform. A warmly lit interior was visible behind her.
‘Mrs Sugden, it’s the new girl,’ the maid called over her shoulder, before seizing Ella’s arm and pulling her into the hallway.
‘You’re frozen,’ the girl remarked before an older, larger lady appeared, her dark dress rustling as she moved, grey curls pinned back from a face that appeared stern, but broke into a welcoming smile at the sight of Ella.
‘Thank you, Doris. Please go and attend to the bell, then when you come back you can show – Ella, isn’t it – to her room. Ella, come this way.’
Ella found herself propelled into a small room off the hallway. Set up as a mixture of office and parlour with heavy ledgers piled on a big desk, it had a welcoming fire burning in the grate.
Mrs Sugden pushed Ella gently towards a chair by the hearth.
‘Sit yourself here and get warm. You look done in.’
Ella, gratefully taking the suggested seat, registered the note of concern in the housekeeper’s voice.
‘Have you eaten? You’ve missed lunch but I will ask Cook for a cup of tea, then we can discuss your duties here.’ And with that Mrs Sugden, bustling in the purposeful manner to which Ella would soon become accustomed, left the room. She returned shortly after, bearing a cup of tea in a plain china cup and saucer, setting it on a table beside Ella who, overwhelmed by the strangeness of this long-anticipated situation and the unexpected kindness of the housekeeper, found herself close to tears.
‘Now, when Doris comes back she’ll show you to the room that you’re to share with her so you can freshen up and put your belongings away.’ Mrs Sugden glanced briefly at the bundle Ella clutched on her lap. ‘Then you can meet the rest of the staff at tea. We’ll need to fit you for your uniform.’ Mrs