Secrets of a Charmed Life by Susan Meissner Read Free Book Online Page B

head.
    You work on those stitches, Emmeline. It will give you something constructive to do while your mother is out earning her keep.
    Those words had embarrassed Emmy when Nana said them. At thirteen, Emmy knew what Nana was implying. But Mum had been so angry, and the charge so appalling, Emmy had kicked the notion away. Nana and Mum had often said terrible things to each other. Things that weren’t true.
    But now it was as if a bright light had been switched on and the blackout curtains had fallen from their rods.
    Mum had thrown Nana out of the house because her mother had accused her of sleeping her way to a job in a rich woman’s house.
    Emmy now watched as Mum poured water into a chipped Royal Doulton teacup, a castoff from Mrs. Billingsley. She stirred in the sugar with a spoon that had also been a Billingsley hand-me-down. Emmy took in the small kitchen, with its pretty tile floors, reliable plumbing, and cabinets of hardwood. Their dining table was nothing special but it was not a rickety tumble of sticks, either. The sofa, just a few feet away from Emmy, was not moth-eaten and the rugs were not threadbare. She and Julia had warm blankets in the winter and comfortable beds to sleep in. Mum had her own bedroom. They always had food in the cupboards and shoes on their feet and clothes on their backs. Their existence was not extravagant, but they never lacked for the basics—and all this on the paycheck of an unmarried kitchen maid.
    A kitchen maid who’d landed the job with no experience.
    How could she have not seen it before? How could she have been so stupid to think a kitchen maid with no husband and two children could manage to afford this flat and its modest but adequate furnishings?
    Someone had arranged for Mum to get the job at Mrs. Billingsley’s house when Neville left. That was why Mum had been so confident the day of her interview. What kind of person would do that for a woman like her mother? Emmy suddenly understood why Nana had been so fearful when Mum came home with the uniform over her arm. Surely Mum was being compensated for something else besides boiling water for tea and shopping for hams.
    “How could you do that?” Emmy whispered to Mum’s back.
    Mum turned around, the teacup poised for a sip and her gaze on Emmy defiant. “How could I do what?”
    “How could you do
that
?”
    Her mother lowered the cup. “You don’t know anything about anything, Em,” Mum said calmly, “so shut your mouth.”
    It was almost as if she were admitting to Emmy outright that someone was paying her for sex. Emmy looked at her with revulsion. “Is it Mrs. Billingsley’s butler? Her chauffeur?”
    Mum laughed but without mirth. “Really, Em. Is that what you think?”
    “Tell me I’m wrong!”
    She lifted her cup to Emmy in a salute. “You’re wrong.” Mum walked past her daughter and Emmy followed her into the living room. Mum parted the blackout curtains covering the window by the front door and a sallow sun seeped into the room. She took a long drink of her tea.
    “Then explain all this!” Emmy yelled. “Explain how you can afford this flat and the clothes in your wardrobe! Explain how you got a job as a kitchen maid when you hadn’t ever been one before! Explain where you were last night!”
    Mum whipped around and hot tea sloshed out of the cup and onto her hand. She didn’t even flinch.
    “How dare you talk to me that way after all I have done for you?” Her voice was even and controlled, but her eyes glistened with anger. “After all I have
sacrificed
for you!”
    “I never asked you to degrade yourself for any of this!” Emmy swept her arm in front of her to include the room’s furnishings.
    “
You
have no business scolding me for what I do for you.”
    “And
you
can’t keep blaming me for your mistakes!”
    Emmy and her mother stood there glaring at each other for several seconds. Then Mum brushed past Emmy and walked back into the kitchen. Emmy followed her. Mum poured