Rose: My Life in Service to Lady Astor by Rosina Harrison Read Free Book Online

seemed to be talking at once. The noise was unbearable; it must have driven the butler mad.
    My knowledge of Italy and the Italians was strictly limited. One thing I’d heard in the servants’ hall was that Italian men were hot-blooded. During our short stay I was to have proof of this. The first morning we were there, as a footman handed me my lady’s breakfast tray he pressed his hands over mine. ‘Hello,’ I thought, ‘what’s he up to?’ Then I dismissed the incident. ‘He was probably making sure I’d got hold of it properly,’ I said to myself. I saw him once or twice during the day and each time he flashed a smile at me. I took it as a friendly gesture and gave him one back.
    That night I was getting ready for bed and was standing in my voile knickers and vest when I saw a hand come round the edge of the door. I didn’t stop to think. I was over in a flash and pressing the door against the obtruding hand with all my strength. I watched it go red and then purple and I could hear some nasty Italian words uttered from the other side; there is no mistaking curses whatever language they come in. They began getting louder and as I didn’t want to wake the house I relaxed my pressure. The hand was quickly removed and there was a scuffling of feet down the corridor. I was taking no chances though so I dragged a heavy chest of drawers and pushed it against the door. After that I slept easily. The following morning I saw my sorrowful Romeo in the servants’ hall. He looked at me with reproachful eyes and his arm in a sling. I didn’t bother with the chest of drawers that night.
    Before we went to Italy her ladyship spoke to me and told me not to mention the name Mussolini. I suppose he must have been coming to power around that time. I said, ‘My lady, I’ve never heard of him till now and even if I had I couldn’t pronounce his name.’
    Again in Rome I came across the Astors. It was rather embarrassing. It was the morning we were due to leave the Embassy and I was in the Cranbornes’ room packing when there was a knock at the door. I went to see who it was and there was Mr Bushell, Lord Astor’s valet. ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
    ‘Waiting for you to clear out,’ he said rudely. ‘My two are taking over this room; how much longer are you going to be?’
    I tried signalling him to keep his voice down, but Lady Cranborne had heard. ‘Who is it, Rose?’ she asked. When I told her she put on an icy voice and said, ‘Tell Lord Astor’s servant to go away and that you will inform him when we are ready to leave.’
    The trouble with Mr Bushell was that he was an excellent mimic and many’s the country house where he has told that story in a hoity-toity voice to her ladyship’s detriment.
    From Rome we went to Lord Aberconway’s house in Antibes (as fashionable then as it is today). We had a long spell at an hotel at St Jean de Luz. Miss Alix Cavendish, her ladyship’s sister, was with us. She had contracted tuberculosis and it was thought the air would improve her health. I remember she brought her mother’s maid, Miss Norman, with her. By now I was beginning to get familiar with other servants from the many great houses. This was to make my life easier and more pleasant in the future, also much more interesting since the more friendly one became, the deeper was the gossip that was exchanged.
    Visits to Paris became so common that it was not long before I knew it as well as I knew London. We always stayed at the Hotel du Rhin in the Place Vendome, a very nice comfortable little place opposite the Ritz. Most of Lady Cranborne’s clothes came from Paris or were made from materials we bought there. I went to many fashion shows with her. Her favourites were those of Jeanne Lanvin and Madame Chanel. Although she would buy the occasional model I suppose I should be sorry to say that we cheated; we plagiarized. I had a very good memory for the cut and line of a frock and Lady Cranborne was clever