Above My Station

Chapter 3. Nathan.

"I'm not going." My voice is rock solid, my eyes stony and my jaw set. I will not leave my mourning sister and tender mother just to help dress a perfectly capable boy. Ethel says if I go, I can't leave the big house to visit. I'll be confined there, as a term of every servant's contract. Why would I do that?!

"Nath, all you have to do is help him get his clothes on, it's not bloody hard!" Ethel screeches, after I refuse.

"Nathan, please," my mother pleads, "you'll get good pay, Jess won't have to go out again!"

"Mum," I growl, "we've just lost our father-"

"You didn't shed one tear." she interjects.

I wince. She's right. Yesterday, when the cart drew up, and Dad's immobile body was deposited into it, Jess and mum cried buckets but my eyes stayed bone dry. I had to stay strong.

"What does Jess think of all this?" Ethel asks, looking behind mum for her.

"It's a good idea." She appears from outside, stands beside me and looks up at me, her eyes red rimmed and dark. "Go Nath. You're useless right now."

When ever I say I'm useless to myself, it doesn't hurt. But when Jess says it, it cuts like a rusty nail through my heart. I gasp softly, but compose myself.

"She's right," mother agrees, "you're not doing anything and I can see it kills you, baby." She takes my hand. "You'll get three square meals and money there love. You can send it to us. We'll miss you, everyday, but we can cope."

I grapple internally for a moment, before my shoulders sag. "I'll never see you again," I warn mum and Jess.

Jess throws her arms round me. "It'll hurt, but we 'll stay strong Nath. Write us letters. Please."

I hug her tightly. "Whenever I can."

Mum nods at me. I nod back, and turn towards my destiny bringer.

"Come on, boy," Ethel says, gesturing to my bed, "pack. You must have some memorabilia."

"I have no belongings," I reply, my heart sinking at the thought of never seeing my family again.

Before I go though, I gather mum and Jess into a huge hug. I can feel their steady heartbeats and breath against my chest, and it kills me to think I'll probably never talk to them in person again. Tears fall down my face as my body is racked by my sister's and mother's sobs.

It pains me when I finally let go. Smiling slightly, I look at them one last time through watery eyes. Ethel squeezes my arm, and I follow her out of the door, looking back until the shack is out sight.

This is the last time I will ever walk down this street, I think, as Ethel and I stride down on the eroding path on the side. She occasionally acknowledges a vendor squatting in the mud, but I keep my head down, shamed. I am abandoning my family, my grieving family, at a time where we should stay together. What would my dad say if he was alive?

"Put your head up," Ethel hisses behind her, "stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're the man of your family now, you're the breadwinner. The only difference is you'll have no verbal contact with them. Stop being a girl."

I glare at the back of her ginger head, mentally calling her names the Almighty would've struck me down for if I had uttered them aloud.

She seems to sense my eyes on the back of her head, and turns abruptly, so I almost walk into her.

"Nathan." Her voice is flinty as she jabs my chest. "If you don't want this, go home. But I tell you, if you return home, your sister will have to go out again. She will have to fornicate with men twice her age. They will hit her, scratch her. She might be hurt badly. Do you want innocent little Jess to go through that for another, pointless day, when you could go out and work at the big house? You'll be warm, well fed, and cared for. James, your charge, is a nice boy. He's twenty, taller than you, blue eyes, caramel curly hair. If I was you, I wouldn't be sulking and walking slowly. I'd be running as fast as I could towards that place-" she points down the street, "to get away from this hellhole. Stop being a child, and start being a man." And with that, she walks away from me.

I wince at her sharp words, but realize she's right. I need to pull myself together.

I need to grow up.

The sun is high in the sky, as we arrive in front of the rich house. The only wealthy family in this town and it shows. White painted, with black beams, and a pretty door, it is like a cottage but much wider and with three stories. Through the windows, I can see servants bustling around, carrying jars and blankets and sheets.

"Here it is," Ethel says, a hint of pride in her voice, "McGuiness Place. When we enter, Lord and Lady McGuiness will probably summon you, just to ask you a few questions. Address them as sir and ma'am, say yes or no, and that would be about it. Go ahead, go in."

My eyes widen. "Through the main door?"

"Where else would you go?"

"Isn't there a tradesman entrance?"

Ethel looks at me, then laughs, a robust sound that erupts from her like lava. "Are you serious, boy?"

I nod awkwardly, and she sobers up.

"You actually are. Well, you've got manners. There isn't a tradesman entrance, just the front door. Come on," she jerks her head, "come with me."

The house smells of flowers as we enter through the huge door. A few servants say hello to Ethel and she smiles back at them.

"Ethel!" a light voice drifts from down the hallway to our rights. A woman glides up the floor, towards us. "And this must be Nathan." she smiles, "come to the dining room."

The huge oak table is my father's work, I note, as we step into the white room. Silver cutlery sits on the polished wood, ivory place mats gleam and crystal glasses shimmer in the light coming from the window.

A fat man sits, examining a glass with a sharp eye, and the woman daintily places herself beside him. He looks up, smiles at her, then turns his gaze to me, raking it up and down.

"You must be Nathan," he says, his voice deep and reassuring, "so, what are your skills?"

"I can clean," I say, pursing my lips, "with direction I could probably dress a man. I'm eager and willing."

Lord McGuiness seems to relax. "James!" he barks, "come down here a moment!"

A door I hadn't noticed before is thrown open, and a tall boy strides into the dining room, smiling at his parents. He has caramel curls and a lithe body.

And the most beautiful blue eyes, like sapphire, glimmering as they turn to me.

"Hello there," he smiles, already knowing who I am, "Should I take him upstairs and show him where he'll stay?"

Lady McGuiness nods. "That should be good," she says before looking at me, "I hope you should be comfortable here. As you are James' sort of personal servant almost, you will take dinner with us, rather than with the rest of the servants. That will be all."

"My lady," I start, "perhaps we can discuss...payment."

Lord McGuiness interjects. "All in good time, my boy! All in good time. Meanwhile, please go with James."

I nod once, and follow James out of the room.