In the far corner of the room was a small table with a solitary wooden chair beside it. This would presumably be where she took her meals. Georgette let out a sigh; it looked so very lonely.
There was a door leading to a small closet area which was just large enough for her to walk into and hang her gowns. The very moment she had been left alone in her room, Georgette had hastily unpacked her gowns and hung them for fear of creases that would never come out. Still, she had packed very carefully and was pleased to note that all of her gowns looked crisp and in good order.
The only saving grace in the tiny room was an immense window which, when the heavy drapes were pulled back, allowed the early morning sunshine in. Georgette rather thought that it was the only thing which stopped the room feeling like a dark and dingy little coffin, and she quite wondered how she would manage in the winter when every day began in darkness.
Still, she would not think of that, for the sun was shining, and she knew she must take from life whatever small pleasures it offered, even if the only pleasure was early morning sunlight.
When Georgette had finally been taken to her small attic room the day before, she had not realized that she would be left there until the following day. She had been shown around the entire servants’ area by the butler, Mr Pearson, who had been taciturn one moment and pompous the next. Georgette could not help feeling that the man had continually tried to prove a point to her throughout their entire encounter.
In truth, Georgette had been rather interested and somewhat amazed by the sheer size of the working area below stairs. The butler had seen fit to show her every bit of it, coal stores included.
“Obviously, you have seen my office. And here, as you can see, is the housekeeper’s room. If you need to speak to anybody below stairs, it is to Mrs Griffin that you must first attend. Only come to my office if you cannot find Mrs Griffin.” As they moved from place to place, Georgette was struck by the very determined straight-backed walk of the butler. He held his head so high that it almost tipped backwards, giving the impression that he was looking up towards the ceiling.
“Yes, of course,” Georgette said, not for the first time.
Georgette had very much decided not to engage with the butler. She would not pander to his devastatingly large ego by asking him any questions. She would simply make a very good mental note of everything she discovered in case she did, indeed, ever need to go below stairs for anything. Still, quite why she would need to know where the larder and meat safe was, not to mention the coal stores and chicken sheds, was quite beyond her.
“And here you see the butler’s pantry,” he said with something of a flourish. “It simply contains all of the serving equipment that is required to run a fine establishment such as Draycott Hall.” He held out an arm to indicate that she should go into the room and look around.
In truth, Georgette had never seen such an array of serving platters, cutlery, and crockery. There was every conceivable item required to serve any manner of meal. And yet, despite her interest, Georgette still could not see quite why the butler would be so keen for her to see it all.
“It truly is very well-stocked indeed,” Georgette said, for want of any other conversation to make.
“Yes, but then this is the largest estate for many counties across,” he said as if her comment had been quite stupid. Georgette chose not to respond.
“And this through here,” he said, striding down a somewhat wider corridor and pushing open the door into another room, “is the servants’ hall.”
Georgette, following close behind, was truly amazed at the size of the servants’ hall. There were several long tables in the room, all neatly lined up like trestle tables at a county fair. Of course, the room would need to be large to accommodate meals for the alleged fifty members of staff.
“This is where the servants take their meals and any other small breaks they are allotted,” he said, his tone rather pompous once again. “Of course, you shall not be taking your meals in here. As is proper, your meals shall be sent to your room, and you shall dine alone.”
Georgette immediately recognized that his words were intended to hurt. He had taken something which might well have been expected to be a compliment of sorts, the fact that she would not be dining with the servants, and he had twisted it to place full emphasis upon the fact that Georgette would have no friends amongst the staff.
His keenness to inform her of the fact in their first meeting gave her the dullest, emptiest feeling in her stomach. It felt almost like the dull and gentle pain of missing a meal and finding oneself really rather hungry. And yet, at that moment, she knew she could not have eaten a thing. What a spiteful man he was.