Lady Ann's Holiday - Chapter Fifteen - Part Two

4

 

 

When Burt returned home from the park she was called aside by the butler who handed her a latter, stamped on the back with the Hurley seal.

 

She felt a flutter of different emotions when she noticed it and retired immediately to her bedroom to read the letter in solitude. When she was alone she stood very quiet and still for several moments, steeling herself, then broke the seal, folding the cream paper back.

 

My dearest Ann,

 

Please forgive me for troubling you. You made it clear that you didn’t wish to see me again before your departure. I do not pretend to understand why for we seemed to esteem one another in the highest way. If there was anything I did or said to trouble you then please accept my most profound apologies.

 

Please know that though I may not be able to see you again, I have never stopped thinking of you... and never will stop.

 

Entirely yours, always and forever,  

 

Richard

 

As Burt read it a single pearly tear sprang from her eye and trickled slowly down her smooth cheek. She read it again more slowly, her heartbeat accelerating almost painfully, then with a cry of anguish she crumpled it up and threw it into the cold fireplace.

 

Then Burt fell onto the bed and wept.

 

 

5

 

 

Over twenty four hours after Ann had been locked in the stocks, the earl finally returned to free him... but by this time, Ann was a changed man.

 

Who he now was and what he now was had been indelibly stamped into his mind. There was not even a single jot left of the pride and arrogance that had convinced him he yet retained some of the influence and status of his normal life – that he had any control at all over what happened to him now that he was Burt.

 

And he was Burt.

 

Uncomfortable, damp and aching, he had stared into the middle distance all day sullenly and pathetically, all too aware of how separate he was now from his normal life. He was under absolutely no illusions.

 

He’d known that as the piss dribbled down the inside of his trouser leg when he could hold it no more.

 

And further, so fixated had his thoughts been on the situation and life he was currently living and the identity that had enshrouded him so fully, that the hours of thought had played the same tricks on his mind as the repetitive reiteration of who he was had been doing throughout the fortnight. Without him even being aware of it, this depressive self reflection hadn’t just identified the nature of his predicament, it had continued to cement it as more of Burt’s memories trickled into his brain and the other effects on his personality and manner clicked further and further into place.

 

When the earl climbed down off his horse and approached once again on foot, Ann looked to all intents like a broken stallion: forlorn and dejected, wretched and despondent.

 

“Ah,” said the earl, imperiously, “I see that this time you really have been thinking. That’s more like it.”

 

“Yes m’lord,” replied Ann sorrowfully.

 

“And? What have you got to say for yourself?”

 

Ann ran the words out in a monotonous cascade. “I’m sorry m’lord. I really am. I should know better than to ‘it a man. I shouldn’ta done it and I’m beside meself with regret. I can’t fink of nowt’d make right by the bloke. I’m just so sorry. I ‘ad no right to do it. I was actin above me station. I’m nothing to you sir. I’m just a labourer and I shouldn’t as done nothing to break your laws.”

 

“Hmmm.” The earl scrutinised Ann carefully, arms folded, then without a word, went to unlock the stocks.

 

“Oh thank you m’lord,” gushed Ann obsequiously. “I’s so grateful. I don’t know ow I can ever repay you. I’ll never go against you again. I’ll do what I’m told when I’m told it right and proper, don’t fret on that. You can rely on me sir. I’s a man of me word.”

 

“See that I can,” replied the earl, lifting the upper arm of the stocks.

 

Ann winced as he pulled free and crumpled immediately to his knees in a muddy puddle. “Agh. Yes sir. I’s sorry sir. I won’t let ye down.”

 

“See that you don’t,” snapped the earl. “Because if I hear from old Harry that you’ve put one foot out of step then I’ll strip you down to your breeches and whip you in the street!”

 

The earl put his filthy boot against Ann’s face and snapped his leg straight, kicking him face first into the mud as Ann floundered in agony to get back up.

 

 

6

 

 

 

Ann was utterly despondent as he loped back up the lane to Griply Hall, his whole body aching but most especially his arms and shoulders and back... and neck.

 

Why oh why had he chosen to make this swap in the first place? Being bored in London seemed now such a trivial penance compared to the trials he had undergone over the last few days: losing so much money at the races, being rejected by Mavis; being beaten up by the restaurant doorman, being humiliated in front of the whole village and his family... being treated so terribly badly by the earl himself. It had been like a living nightmare and one he was desperate now to waken from.

 

The sooner the real Burt came back in his body, the better; the sooner he could go back to his rightful life as a cultured and pampered heiress. He wouldn’t sulk anymore then. He wouldn’t strop about being unkind to servants – not now he knew what it was really like to be one.

 

In fact the realisation of that made Ann pause in the darkness, wide-eyed.

 

Maybe... maybe all of this... Maybe all of this had been orchestrated somehow... by Fate, or God... to teach him a lesson. Jeb and the others were right. He had always been an ungrateful nasty petulant bitch as Lady Ann. It was so clear to him now. Finding the amulet hadn’t been an accident. He had been meant to find it so that he could learn what it was like to be the lowest of the low – to see his real life from a new perspective... so that he could appreciate it more, and learn to change his ways.

 

And that was what he was going to do.

As soon as he was back in his rightful form he would change his life. He would be kind to servants. He would appreciate what he had. Everyone would remark on what a good person he had become... and they would all think it was because of the time “he” spent in London.

 

How wrong they would be!

 

He laughed. Then winced from the ache in his back and walked on.

 

When Ann got back to the stable house, he saw that Harry was waiting for him. “Ahright Burt,” he chuckled, “I ‘eard I missed quite a show in’t village. I was ‘oping to get down there while you was still locked up!”

 

Ann wanted to make a snitty reply but he wasn’t in the mood – far from it. He kept his head down and walked sullenly past.

 

“I bet you was a right funny sight strapped up in them stocks Burt! What was it like – gettin your comeuppance?” He laughed. “You’ve been strutting round ere for two weeks like lord muck actin like yer better than the rest of us. It musta felt grand bein reminded just ow low you really are.”

 

Ann didn’t reply.

 

“Get back out ere with that rent,” said Harry. “It’s past due now. I’ve a good mind to tell the earl about it.”

 

Ann felt a jet of fear and paled, hurrying up to the hay barn, eager to avoid that at any cost.

 

He opened the drawer where he kept his money and rooted through the knickknacks that were in there, frowning, then starting to search more and more frantically. He paused, lifting his head, trying to think, then searched through again. There wasn’t any money there!

 

But there had to be unless... No. Surely not. Surely he hadn’t been so dense!

 

But with a sinking feeling, Ann realised that dense was exactly what he was now. As long as he was in Burt’s body – as long as he was Burt – he was stupid. He was a moron. And he’d been stupid enough to bet the last of his money on that race. The race that lost.

 

He kicked his chair over in a rage then stopped abruptly, worried Harry would hear and tell the earl about it. Instead he went sheepishly back down to where Harry was waiting.

 

“I’m sorry Arry but I ain’t got it. I’ll ave to pay you extra in a couple of days.”

 

He had only two more full days as Burt after this. After that he could pay the rent twenty times over... or Burt would be back to work for a living and earn it.

 

“No,” said Harry. “I want it now.”

 

“But I ain’t got it,” pleaded Ann. “I can’t give ye what I ain’t got. I’ll pay you double the day after the day after tomorra. How’s about that?”

 

Harry pondered over it. “I don’t think so Burt. Ye’ve gotta learn that you can’t disrespect me if ye don’t want it to come and bite ye on the ass. And by gum ye’ve been disrespectin me fer the least two weeks.”

 

“Please,” said Ann.

 

“No,” replied Harry. “You ain’t sleepin up there tonight. That I promise you.”

 

Ann was becoming increasingly desperate. His time in the stocks had pushed him to the very edge of desperation and depression in his current predicament; in his current lack of control. This was pushing him over that edge. “But where will I sleep? Where will I go?”

 

“I don’t much care,” said Harry. “But while you’re there you might want to think about what appens when you go against my orders.”

 

“But I don’t have any means to get more money until three days from now,” whined Ann. “You can’t expect me to sleep rough until then.”

 

“Well that’s when yer olidee ends Burt,” chuckled Harry. “I thought you was enjoying it!” He laughed out loud.

 

Ann’s heart was sinking. This waking nightmare was getting worse and worse and it was becoming increasingly clear what he was going to have to do to at least alleviate that.

 

And surely it wouldn’t be so bad. He had wanted to be a real working man. And it was only for a couple of days...

 

“Alright,” said Ann sullenly. “I’ll come back to work.”

 

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “Ye’ve burned that bridge. Oh yes you ave! I wouldn’t dare go against er ladyship’s orders! No! Until the end of the fortnight ye’re gonna just ave to find some money elsewhere. Or else enjoy yourself in a ditch somewheres.”

 

“Please,” said Ann. “Please Arry. Let me work – go back to work. I’ll shovel all the shit you want. Just let me go and lie down now.”

 

“No,” snapped Harry. “I’ve told you wot’s wot. Now chuff off out’ve ere and find yerself somewhere else to kip!”

 

 

7

 

 

Burt looked through grandmamma’s cases of expensive jewellery, marvelling at the exotic beauty of these riches as the old lady looked on.

 

“You may try some on if you like,” said Grandmamma.

 

“Oh, may I?”

 

“Of course my dear. They’ll be yours once I’ve passed on.”

 

“Really?” Burt beamed at her, then faltered and turned away forlornly. They wouldn’t be hers. They would belong to the real Lady Ann. By the time the elderly lady passed away, Burt would be long since back working in the muck.

 

“Don’t be sad child,” said the duchess. “Death comes to us all eventually.”

 

Burt felt dejected that his first thought had been selfish. They’d been talking about the passing on of this fine lady, a real person whom Burt had come to respect and care for a great deal. “I’m sorry grandmamma. Staying here with you... I’ve come to see things so differently... and I’ve become very close to you. I think... I think it will break my heart to have to go back to Griply.”

 

“Don’t be silly Ann. You’ll see me again. I’ve got a good ten years or more in me yet.”

 

Burt smiled with tears in her eyes. “I truly hope you live to be a hundred years old.”

 

“Perish the thought,” replied the duchess. “I’m sick of life as it is.”

 

They both giggled.

 

“I saw that awful servant today,” said Burt.

 

“The lazy one?”

 

Burt nodded. “Betty. The one who I caught going through my things.”

 

“Yes. I heard she was working for the Jessop’s now.”

 

“I think it’s despicable that she’d landed on her feet like that after her appalling behaviour here. I would like to see her get some comeuppance, not flaunt herself about the park proudly as though she’s done nothing wrong.”

 

“What happened to the young lady who empathised with servants?” asked the duchess wryly.

 

Burt looked at her squarely. “I see no reason why I should empathise with ignorant lower class peasants whose only purpose is to serve. They know what is expected of them. If they don’t do it then they deserve everything they get.”

 

The duchess smiled. “Ah Ann. At last. Spoken like a true lady.”

 

“Thank you grandmamma,” replied Burt. She considered for a moment. “I wonder if we might go and pay these Jessops a visit.”

 

“I don’t see why not,” said grandmamma. “I don’t see why not at all.”

 

Burt smiled coldly in anticipation.

 

 

8

 

 

Ann walked down into Griply village feeling like things couldn’t get any worse. Having no money to spend to enjoy her last few days as a man was bad enough. Having nowhere to sleep and no means to buy food was something else.

 

He felt morose and still ached terribly from his long internment in the stocks. Worse, he remained shocked to the core from the series of experiences that had shown him so unceremoniously just how little control he had over his life now.

 

Being Burt was like a mire. He couldn’t get out of it while the real Burt remained away and as long as he was in it he was overwhelmed by the limitations of his social position, his education, his intelligence and now his resources as well. It seemed that every day that went by he stepped closer and closer to living the original Burt’s life exactly as the original Burt had lived it. Next thing he knew he’d be loitering outside her ladyship’s window hoping for a glance of...

 

No.

 

He suddenly had a perfect recollection of doing just that: standing in the bushes looking up at the front bedroom window above the door, hoping desperately for a glimpse of his lady love and then, there! Catching sight of her for just a second!

 

And as before, Ann felt all the emotional connection to that memory as he had to the others. He felt a yearning in his heart that the beautiful woman would notice him, or even see him out there waiting, looking up, and wave... or beckon him in.

 

Ann roared in exasperation, fists in the air.

 

He was Lady Ann. He was Lady Ann, not Burt! And he was sick of this! He was sick of all of it!

 

He stomped on into the night, trying to put the memory out of his mind and concentrate on his own current problems.

 

It took him another twenty minutes to reach Griply and the pub was just turning out for the night. Ann waited for his mate Jeb to emerge then sidled up to him.

 

“Jeb. Ye got a minute?”

 

“Ey Burt. You didn’t arf look like a twerp strapped up to those stocks.” He laughed, punching him jovially on the shoulder, making Ann wince.

 

“Yeah.” Ann tried to chuckle along with him, even though he actually wanted to clonk the bumpkin in the face. “Look. You couldn’t do us a favour and lend us a few bob could ye. I’m short on me rent.”

 

“Ah, I wish I could mate but I ain’t got nothin spare. I’ve just blown me last cash in there.” He thumbed back toward the Dog & Pony.”

 

Ann’s face fell.

 

“Ain’t you workin?” asked Jeb. “Old Arry’d forward you enough brass to last till payday I’d’ve thought.”

 

“Nah,” said Ann. “The old bastard’s the one wot’s said I can’t stay in’t stable and he’s bein a right spanner about me ‘olidee. Won’t even let me work fer it.”

 

Jeb considered for a moment. “Well I might be able to elp you out on that score if’n your interested.”

 

“Eh?”

 

“I could get you a day’s work, cash in ‘and tomorrow.”

 

“Work? Wot, on your farm?”

 

“Aye.”

 

Ann frowned, feeling increasingly dejected, continuing to curse the day he found that blasted amulet. It was supposed to be a holiday, not work! He was supposed to have money to spend and a life of freedom and leisure. But what choice did he have?

 

And part of Ann had fantasised about this all along – about being a working man in deed as well as body. With only a few days left in this form, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to do it, just to see what it was like and really experience for a while how the lower orders lived.

 

Imagine the memories he would take back to his own body with him! He’d certainly never feel bad about his lot in life once he was back as Lady Ann.

 

“Alright Jeb,” said Ann. “I’ll do it. Thanks.”

 

Jeb grinned. “Great. Just make sure you get to the farm by seven tomorrow mornin.”

 

“Seven? Blooody ell!”

 

Jeb laughed and they shook on it, but as they did so, Ann got a jolt of unease, feeling increasingly unsure he was doing the right thing.

 

 

9

 

 

Burt retired to bed early feeling commiserated at least that she’d be able to give that lazy servant her comeuppance the following day.

 

She had so enjoyed her time in Lady Ann’s body and life but the horror of leaving it was beginning to blight her happiness thoroughly. She couldn’t get Lord Hurley off her mind but she knew that seeing him again would only torture her more.

 

Just three more nights and then she would be back in Yorkshire; back in her old body; back in her old life. And she’d be back with Mavis.

 

Burt sniffed, trying to look on the bright side with that at least. She’d always enjoyed her time with the slutty minx, but now, thinking of the strumpet just made her feel revolted. The girl was horribly unkempt and smelled of sweat and cheap perfume. Her mode of dress and action was simply vulgar and far beneath where Burt was now.

 

Where Burt was now.

 

That depressed her all the more because she knew that all too soon she would lose everything she had gained. She would sink right back down to that level and be lower class again herself.

 

It was a mortifying thought.

 

She bent down and retrieved the crumpled note from the fireplace that Richard had sent her and smoothed it out, tears welling again in her eyes.

 

Entirely yours, always and forever,  

 

Richard

 

She couldn’t bear to look at it but couldn’t bear to turn away. She longed for Richard with all her heart but knew that it was impossible. Truly and utterly impossible!

 

With a deep cry on aguish she collapsed on her bedspread, weeping for the life she was living and the life she longed to keep.

 

 

10

 

 

Ann caught Mavis outside the pub clearing out some scraps for the dogs and cleared his throat.
 

“What do you want?” sneered the girl.

 

Ann did his best to smile. “I was wonderin if’n I could sleep ere with you tonight. Arry’s kicked me out’ve t’stable.”

 

“Oh ‘as he now?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Well praps that’s wot ye deserve for treatin me badly.”

 

“Wot?” said Ann, incredulously. “All I did was take you out fer the day then object when you wanted to shag another bloke!”

“We ain’t married,” said Mavis. I’ll shag whoever I want. And if you ain’t got cash for me then I ‘ave to get it where I can.”

 

“Well no wonder you look like an ‘ore half the time,” snapped Ann. “You bloody are one!”

 

The minute he said it he realised he’d made a mistake.

 

“Well if that’s the way you think about me you can chuff off and sleep in the gutter for all I care!” She turned on her heel and strode imperiously back inside.

 

“Mavis, wait!” cried Ann. “I’m sorry!”

 

Mavis glared at him angrily through the glass as she locked the back door then disappeared from view leaving Ann feeling desperate, cold, lonely and even more depressed.

 

This had been the worst day of his life, without doubt.

 

All he wanted to do was run back to Griply Hall and fall into his mother’s arms so that she could cuddle him and make him feel warm and protected again.

 

But he couldn’t do that because he wasn’t Lady Ann no more. He was Burt. And now he had to find somewhere to sleep rough because he didn’t have the means for anything else.

 

With his cap pulled low and his hands shoved in his pockets, Ann wandered the empty village, looking for somewhere half decent to kip, knowing there wasn’t anywhere.

 

In the end he wedged himself under one of the arches under the railway bridge, pulling his collar up round his neck and shivering into the night. And all he kept thinking were two things, over and over.

 

The first was a deep wish that he’d never found that stupid amulet and the other was the desperate understanding that he do what he was told from now on for fear of getting into this kind of trouble again.

 

As long as he was Burt he had to toe the line and try to make good with his superiors. He couldn’t dare risk anything else.