“I could have told her, I could.”

“What could you have told?”

“It couldn’t have lasted. I said to the cook we had a cook in those days, a bit of a tartar she was and I was nothing much, kitchen maid, that was me. I said to her, ” It won’t last. He’s not the sort to settle and she’s not the sort to put up with much. “

“What did she have to put up with?”

“Him, of course. And he had to put up with her. I said to Cook, ” That won’t work,” and I was right!”

“I don’t remember him.”

“You wouldn’t have been much more than a year old when he went.”

“Where did he go?”

“With her, I suppose … the other one.”

“Don’t you think it’s time I knew?”

“I reckon you’ll know when it is.”

I knew that that morning there had been a coolness between Meg and my mother, who had said the beef was touch. Meg had retorted that if we didn’t have the best beef it was likely to be tough, to which my mother had replied that it should have been cooked a little longer. Meg was on the point of giving notice, which was her strongest weapon in these conflicts. Where would we get another Meg? It was good to have someone who had been in the family for years. As for Meg, I guessed she did not want the bother of moving. It was a threat to be used in moments of crisis: and neither of them could be sure that, if driven to extremity, the other might not take action, and either one could find herself in a position from which it would be undignified to retreat.

The trouble had been smoothed over, but Meg was still resentful; and at such times it was easier to extract information from her.

“Do you know, I’m nearly thirteen years old, Meg?” I said.

“Of course I know it.”

“I reckon I’m old enough.”

“You’ve got a sharp head on your shoulders. Miss Fred. I will say that for you. And you don’t take after her.”

I knew Meg had a certain tenderness for me. I had heard her refer to me when talking to Amy as ‘that poor mite’.

“I think I ought to know about my father,” I went on.

“Fathers,” she said, lapsing into her own past, which was a habit with her.

“They can be funny things. You get the doting sort and there’s some who are ready with the strap at the flicker of an eyelid. I had one of them. Say a word he thought out of place and he’d be unstrapping his belt and you’d be in for it. Saturday nights … well, he was fond of the liquor, he was, and when he was rolling drunk you kept out of his way. There’s fathers for you.”

“That must have been awful, Meg. Tell me about mine.”

“He was very good-looking. I will say that for him. They was a handsome pair. They used to go to these regimental balls. They’d look a picture, the two of them together.

Your mother hadn’t got that sour look then well, not all the time.

We used to go to the window and watch them get into the carriage, him in his uniform . ” Her eyes glistened and she shook her head.

“Regimental balls?” I prompted.

“Well, he was a soldier, wasn’t he? Cook used to say he was high up in the Army … an officer … Major or something. Oh, but he was a handsome fellow. He had what you call the roving eye.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, he liked looking round.”

“What at?”

She gave me a little push and I could see that she was not going to pursue that line of the conversation, so I said hastily: “What happened to him? Did he go to war?”

“Not that I know of. There wasn’t a war, was there? So he couldn’t go to it. We moved about a bit. They do in the Army. You settle in and then you’re up and off. There’s marching and bands and things like that. It was quite a life.”

“And you went with them?”

“Oh yes. I was with her before she married. A grand wedding, it was . from Cedar Hall. I can see her coming out of the church. It wasn’t the Reverend Mathers then. Now who was it?”

“Never mind. What happened?”

“They went off on their honeymoon … and then we were in quarters wherever the regiment was. Hadn’t been married more than three months when your grandfather died. And there was all that fuss about Cedar Hall being sold up and the Carters coming. Well, I could see it wasn’t going to last. He wasn’t the sort for married life. There was someone”

“You mean after he married my mother?”

“That don’t make no difference to some. They can’t help it, like.”

It was getting very interesting and I was afraid something would happen to stop the flow, that she would suddenly remember my age and that she was talking too much.

“Well, you were on the way and that made a difference too. She couldn’t go dancing around, could she?”

And then? ” I said.

“It went on. You were born but still it wasn’t right. There were rumours. She didn’t want to do anything about it. She was always the one for keeping up appearances.”

“What do you mean, Meg?”

“Well, she knew about this other one. She was jolly, she was. A bit of a flirt. Well, that suited him, didn’t it? She had a husband, though.

He caught them . in the act, you might say. There was a regular scandal. There was a divorce and I think in time he married her. And they lived happy ever after . perhaps. Your mother never got over it. If Cedars hadn’t been sold she could have gone back there and it might not have been so bad. But there wasn’t much left after the sale and debts had been paid. It was shared between her and Miss Sophie.

Miss Sophie bought that house of hers and your mother got this. She had something from your father, of course . but you see how things are. “

“He’s still alive?”

“Alive and kicking, I reckon. Your mother never got over it. She don’t talk about it. If only she could have gone back to Cedar Hall, I reckon it wouldn’t have been so bad. Now, don’t you whisper a word of this. But you asked about your father and everyone has a right to know who they are.”

“I wonder if I shall ever see him.”

She shook her head.

“He wouldn’t come here, dear. But I can tell you this. A nicer gentleman you couldn’t wish to meet. It was just that . well, you know how it is with some people. They just don’t fit.

Then comes the parting of the ways. And here we were, in Lavender Cottage . I beg its pardon Lavender House. “

Having told me so much, Meg found it difficult to stop, and whenever I could escape from the governess of the moment, I would seek her out.

She was not averse really. She enjoyed gossiping. I learned that she would like to be in a house with many servants. Her sister was in such a place, down in Somerset.

“There’s a butler, housekeeper, kitchen maids, parlour maids … the lot. And they keep their carriage so there’s stables and what not.

There’s a lot going on in a place like that. And this . well, it’s neither one thing or the other. “

“I wonder why you stay here, Meg.”

“Well, you can jump out of the frying-pan into the fire.”

“So this is the frying-pan!”

“You might call it that.”

“Tell me about my father.”

“I’ve told you, haven’t I? Don’t you go letting on to your ma what I’ve told you. But I reckon it was right you should know … something. One day she’ll tell you … her side, of course. But I reckon he had something to put up with, and there’s always two sides to a question. He was one for a bit of fun. All the servants liked him. He was always jolly with them.”

“You seem to be on his side.”

“You couldn’t help it really. That other woman and all that. I reckon he was provoked in a way … your mother being what she is … and him being what he is …”

While I was talking to Meg on one occasion my mother came into the kitchen. She looked startled to see me there.

“Meg,” she said.

“I want to discuss tonight’s menu with you.”

Meg raised her eyes to the ceiling and I escaped. There had been a small sirloin of beef yesterday, so there must be cold beef today, but my mother always came to the kitchen to discuss the menu with Meg. She would have liked to send for her, but there was no one to send but Amy and that would mean taking Amy away from whatever her duty was and she was rather slow in any case. There were no bells in Lavender House and installing them would have been expensive. As for fixing a regular time for the meetings, that would not have been convenient, for, as Meg said, she was rushed off her feet and couldn’t be tied down to times for this or that. So there was now no recourse but for my mother to go to the kitchen.

I wondered afresh whether it would be possible to explain to my mother that it was rather ludicrous to behave like the lady of a large establishment when ours was far from that. I thought of the words of Robert Burns:

‘O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us To see ourselves as others see us. ”

What a gift that would be-and particularly to my mother. If she had had it, perhaps her husband would not have left her and I would know my father. I saw him as a merry man with twinkling eyes which aroused an answering response in people like Meg.

On another occasion I had seen Meg preen herself in a certain way, as she did when she mentioned my father. This was for Mr. Burr in the butcher’s shop, shouting “Buy, buy, buy’ while he chopped up meat on his chopping-board. He was jaunty; he wore a blue and white striped apron and a straw hat cocked at a rakish angle. His eyes danced as he joked with his customers; they were mostly women.

Meg said his remarks were ‘near the bone’ but they made you laugh for all that.

On one occasion she said to him: “You get along with you. And mind your p’s and q’s, young man.”