noise, clatter of dishes, and smoky atmosphere in the rather dark, low-beamed dining room, the food was hot and well cooked, and, never having eaten or stayed in such a public place before, Bessie enjoyed the experience. Harriet found it not dissimilar to the coaching stops she and Brook had made on their honeymoon, although the food had been very different and the quantity of it not so hearty as that now provided by the landlord’s wife.
That night, as Bessie helped Harriet out of her clothes and they prepared for bed, she was agog with excitement. Tomorrow, she said to Harriet, she would sail across the sea for the first time in her life – indeed, she had never seen the sea before. She looked anxiously at Harriet as she tucked her into bed and prepared to blow out the candles.
‘’Tis terrible noisy!’ she commented, listening to the chatter and laughter from the tap room below. ‘They’s having a few too many glasses of ale if I’m not mistook!’
Harriet laughed. ‘Believe me, Bessie, I am tired enough to sleep through anything!’ she assured her, little knowing that were she to do so, she might not be alive the next morning.
FIVE
1865
B essie was the first to awake. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and coughing. She could see through a gap in the curtains that it was still pitch dark outside and, normally a very sound sleeper, she wondered if it was her coughing which had woken her.
That was the moment she smelt smoke. Clambering out of her truckle bed, she ran across the room in her bare feet to look out of the window. To her surprise, there was no sign of a fire. Turning back to the room, she saw it – a thin drift of smoke coming up through a gap in the oak floorboards.
For a minute, she stood staring at it, wondering if she was dreaming, and at that moment, the shouting began: ‘FIRE! FIRE!’, followed by the sound of pounding feet on the staircase and a woman screaming.
Wasting no more time, Bessie hurried to Harriet’s bedside and shook her shoulder. ‘Wake up! Oh, do wake up, Miss Harriet!’ she urged. The smoke in the room was intensifying and it seemed to Bessie that she could feel heat on the soles of her bare feet.
‘Oh, please, please hurry, Miss Harriet,’ she begged. She reached for Harriet’s dress and mantle, fearing as she did so that there might be no time to rescue all her petticoats.
Wide awake now, and aware of the smoke, Harriet instructed Bessie to see to her own clothing as, ignoring her cashmere stockings, she struggled into her buttoned boots. Neither girl was now in any doubt that the fire below was a serious one. Outside the window they could hear shouts and see buckets being carried from the water butt by the stables, and ladders put up to the windows.
Bessie dressed quickly, her voice shaking as she said, ‘I’ll see if it’s safe to go downstairs, Miss Harriet. I don’t fancy you having to climb down one of them ladders!’ Not least, she thought, because her mistress had no underclothing on. Shoving her feet into her boots and not waiting to tie the laces, she hurried to the door. Somewhat to her surprise, only a slight haze of smoke was drifting up the stairs. The fire, she thought, must be down below in the dining room on the opposite side of the building. Men and women were emerging from their rooms and were hastening down the narrow staircase. Seeing Bessie hovering on the landing, one of the men stopped and said, ‘Best make haste, miss. This place is built of wood – it’ll go up like tinder if it gets a hold.’
Then he disappeared down the stairs. Bessie hurried back into the room and pulled Harriet away from the portmanteau into which she was attempting to pack some clothing alongside the presents she had brought for Una.
‘Leave it, Miss Harriet!’ she said. ‘We can get everything later once they’ve put out the fire. We’ve got to be quick.’
With Bessie holding tight to her arm, Harriet hurried after the men and women down the wooden
That night, as Bessie helped Harriet out of her clothes and they prepared for bed, she was agog with excitement. Tomorrow, she said to Harriet, she would sail across the sea for the first time in her life – indeed, she had never seen the sea before. She looked anxiously at Harriet as she tucked her into bed and prepared to blow out the candles.
‘’Tis terrible noisy!’ she commented, listening to the chatter and laughter from the tap room below. ‘They’s having a few too many glasses of ale if I’m not mistook!’
Harriet laughed. ‘Believe me, Bessie, I am tired enough to sleep through anything!’ she assured her, little knowing that were she to do so, she might not be alive the next morning.
FIVE
1865
B essie was the first to awake. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and coughing. She could see through a gap in the curtains that it was still pitch dark outside and, normally a very sound sleeper, she wondered if it was her coughing which had woken her.
That was the moment she smelt smoke. Clambering out of her truckle bed, she ran across the room in her bare feet to look out of the window. To her surprise, there was no sign of a fire. Turning back to the room, she saw it – a thin drift of smoke coming up through a gap in the oak floorboards.
For a minute, she stood staring at it, wondering if she was dreaming, and at that moment, the shouting began: ‘FIRE! FIRE!’, followed by the sound of pounding feet on the staircase and a woman screaming.
Wasting no more time, Bessie hurried to Harriet’s bedside and shook her shoulder. ‘Wake up! Oh, do wake up, Miss Harriet!’ she urged. The smoke in the room was intensifying and it seemed to Bessie that she could feel heat on the soles of her bare feet.
‘Oh, please, please hurry, Miss Harriet,’ she begged. She reached for Harriet’s dress and mantle, fearing as she did so that there might be no time to rescue all her petticoats.
Wide awake now, and aware of the smoke, Harriet instructed Bessie to see to her own clothing as, ignoring her cashmere stockings, she struggled into her buttoned boots. Neither girl was now in any doubt that the fire below was a serious one. Outside the window they could hear shouts and see buckets being carried from the water butt by the stables, and ladders put up to the windows.
Bessie dressed quickly, her voice shaking as she said, ‘I’ll see if it’s safe to go downstairs, Miss Harriet. I don’t fancy you having to climb down one of them ladders!’ Not least, she thought, because her mistress had no underclothing on. Shoving her feet into her boots and not waiting to tie the laces, she hurried to the door. Somewhat to her surprise, only a slight haze of smoke was drifting up the stairs. The fire, she thought, must be down below in the dining room on the opposite side of the building. Men and women were emerging from their rooms and were hastening down the narrow staircase. Seeing Bessie hovering on the landing, one of the men stopped and said, ‘Best make haste, miss. This place is built of wood – it’ll go up like tinder if it gets a hold.’
Then he disappeared down the stairs. Bessie hurried back into the room and pulled Harriet away from the portmanteau into which she was attempting to pack some clothing alongside the presents she had brought for Una.
‘Leave it, Miss Harriet!’ she said. ‘We can get everything later once they’ve put out the fire. We’ve got to be quick.’
With Bessie holding tight to her arm, Harriet hurried after the men and women down the wooden
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