After leaving school at the age of fourteen years, circumstances delayed my obtaining a position for the next two years. Out of the blue my mother acquired a “post” for me at Blackpool for the busy season. In order to save money, she purchased a day-trip ticket for me.
On a lovely, sunny, Sunday morning I boarded the train at Renishaw with a certain amount of anxiety as I had never travelled very far from my native village of Eckington. Finding a seat near the window I settled down and looking around the carriage saw the parent with their small children and teenagers excited at the prospect of an enjoyable day at the seaside.
The thought of eight weeks hard work in a boarding-house fa away from home filled me with apprehension, but gradually I became interested in the passing scenery. After a while I closed my eyes and began planning how to use all the money I would earn. My wages were to be eight shillings a week out of which I had to send home to my Mother a four-shilling postal order each week.
The other servant and I put out tips in a piggy bank which became heavier and heavier.
At the end of the eight weeks, to my consternation I found that we had to share our tips with the Landlady and the land lady’s mother. My share was two pounds, two shillings.
My First Experience of Domestic Service
Or — How not to get rich.
After leaving school at the age of fourteen years, circumstances delayed my obtaining a position for the next two years. Out of the blue my mother acquired a “post” for me at Blackpool for the “busy season”. In order to save money, she purchased a day trip ticket for me.
On a lovely, sunny, Sunday morning I boarded the train at Renishaw with a certain amount of anxiety, as I had never travelled very far from my native village of Eckington. Finding a seat near the window I settled down and looking around the carriage saw the parents with their small children and teenagers with smiling faces. All were highly excited at the prospect of an enjoyable day at the seaside.
The thought of eight weeks hard work in a boarding house far away from home filled me with apprehension, but gradually I became interested in the passing scenery. After a while I closed my eyes and began planning how to use all the money I would earn. My wages were to be eight shilling a week out of which I had to send home to my mother a four-shilling postal order each week.
The other servant and I put out tips in a piggy bank which became heavier and heavier. At the end of the eight weeks, to my consternation I found that we had to share our tips with the land lady, her husband and the land lady’s mother. My share was two pounds, two shillings. After paying for breakages and purchasing my train ticket home I was left with the princely sum of five shillings.
There were no thro’ trains to Sheffield which meant I had to change trains at Manchester. When I arrived and realized I had to change stations too I became every agitated. Almost in tears I approached a kindly porter who directed me to the bus which would take me across the city to the other station.
Arriving at the station I discovered I had to wait two hours for a train to Sheffield. By this time, I was feeling very hungry, so I spent a shilling of my precious five shillings on sandwiches and a drink. I devoured my food but didn’t really enjoy it because I began wondering how ‘Mum’ would react to the fact that I had so little to show for all the hard work I had done.
Boarding the train at Manchester I found myself sitting opposite a dear, elderly couple who showed a great interest in me, but when we arrived in Sheffield panic hit me! I didn’t know where the bus departed from for Eckington. I had never been to Sheffield before!
Appealing to the helpful couple, they told me to stay by their side and they would put me right. Outside the station I looked around and saw what I thought were caravans’ rows of them all brightly lit up. “Is that a fairground I asked.
“No” (laughingly) said the old man, “It’s the bus station go down there and someone will put you on the right bus”. I felt very naïve.
Eventually I arrived home at eight o’clock, tired and very hungry. Dad was out, Mum and Uncle Harry were seated before the fire. Mum jumped up saying, “Where the heck have you been while now, your land lady wrote saying she was putting you on the ten o’clock train from Blackpool”. On the verge of tears, I managed to say “it was the two o’clock train Mum not – before busting into tears.
Uncle Harry intervened saying “leave the lass alone”, can’t you see that she is tired out”. Mum put my dried up dinner (which she had tried to keep warm) before me. As I picked up my knife and fork Mum cried out “Harry! Just look at her hands, they’re re raw, I’ll never neve let he go ‘out service’ to a boarding house again!
I never did!
Thanks to Derek Brunt for letting me type up Edith Brunt’s memories (Linda Taylor nee Staton)
