Lady Ann's Holiday - Chapter Twenty Four

You Have to do the Right Thing

1

Lady Ann Neville opened her eyes very quietly, without moving any part of her body, feeling the warmth and the comfort of this opulent bedroom; the silk sheets with a terrible poignancy.

When she next went to sleep it would be on a rolled out straw mattress in a hayloft open to the elements, rats crawling through the shadows only yards away from her. And she wouldn’t  have this lovely soft slender body anymore that felt more comfortable and real than she could possibly have imagined it would. She would be in a rough man’s body with callused fingers and dirty nails; hairy arms and legs and bony buttocks. She would have a ghastly flopping thing between her thighs and all her lovely hair would be gone to be replaced by a shorn manly cut. Thick bristles would be sprouting from her upper lip to form a bushy moustache. She touched the soft skin there now, finding it impossible to comprehend such a change.

She loved her beauty: her soft skin, her pretty eyes. She loved her smooth round arms and creamy shoulders. She loved to wear her pretty gowns. What would it be like to climb once more into scratchy threadbare trousers and boots, ingrained with filth, stinking of horse dung?

What would it be like to be a man?

Her eyes brimmed with bitter tears, clouding her vision.

Her life was over now. Everything good and pure about it was about to be wiped away as her soul was cast back into filth, poverty and servitude. She was going to have to become one of the lower orders again; one of the mass of uncouth blackguards whom she had come to detest.

It was unfair. It was all so awfully unfair.

But she had no choice. She had made her promise. She had been given her instructions. And the words her father told her when she was still a boy wouldn’t release her; wouldn’t unhand her from the guilt that was going to drive her back up north.

“You have to do the right thing my boy. And you must always do as you’re told.”

She wished those words didn’t trap her on this course of action but there was no denying that they did.

She sat up on the edge of the bed and put her head in her soft hands and once again she started to weep, wishing that something – anything – might happen to save her from this ghastly fate.

2

Burt Harper came awake without moving a muscle on his hard straw mattress but kept his eyes closed, letting the dream he’d been having continue into a waking fancy.

In the fancy he was walking on the seafront, scurrying along behind Lady Ann and the posh gentleman he’d seen that time on the train platform. He was loaded down with picnic baskets and a blanket, struggling to carry it all as they walked elegantly along, her ladyship’s parasol raised to shield her delicate skin from the sun’s rays.

The wealthy couple looked out to see as they talked and Burt hung back a respectful distance as was only right. The quality shouldn’t have their day ruined by the sight of a menial. He was only there to carry things. He should remain out of the way until they needed the picnic setting up then he should disappear again as soon as he’d set it up. He knew his place.

But they reached the spot no where they were to eat and Lord Hurley gave Burt the signal to scurry forward. Lady Ann sneered at him as he got on his knees and laid out the picnic things and then took a ladylike seat on the blanket as he withdrew.

But Lord Hurley was no longer there in the daydream. Lady Ann was alone and she gestured to Burt, smiling, beckoning him over.

“I’ve sent Lord Hurley away Burt,” said the dream Ann. “I’d much rather enjoy this beautiful spot with you.”

“Oh aye m’lady. It’d be my pleasure and then some.”

“Well don’t loiter over there like an idiot,” she snapped, then her voice took on the texture of honey. “I want you here, beside me, where I can look into your handsome face.

Under his bed covers, Burt slid his hand up to his naked cock and started to fondle it, as in the dream, he took his place beside her, looking out over the cliff at the ocean.

“I’ve been watching you for years Burt,” said the fantasy Ann.

“Really m’lady? I’ve been watching you.”

“I know you have. And I liked it.”

“You did?”

I watch you all the time. I watch you grooming the horses and mucking out the stables. I watch you feeding the sheep and doing your digging. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a strong and hardworking man.”

“I do me best miss. I always work ‘ard and do as I’m told.”

“I know you do,” she said, caressing the side of his rough cheek. “And I love you for it.”

In the dream she reached over and kissed him, a long an extended passionate coupling that went on and on as the hazy sunlight fell upon them.

And on his thin mattress, Burt gripped his penis, pumping it slowly and gently, loving the extended pleasure.

“Burt!”

He stopped with an anxious jerk at the sound of Harry’s voice, sitting up, the daydream forgotten.

“Get down ere you great wazzock! You’ve overslept again! There’s work that needs doing!”

He scrambled up out of bed, reaching for his clothes, wishing he could just lie there all day. But there was more digging to be done and he had to hurry. He’d had a late night out on the raz and shagging that bird but he couldn’t let that get in the way of his responsibility. He had a job to do!

With his clothes on he paused at the drawers against the wall and slipped out the little sepia portrait of her ladyship. She looked so pretty in the photograph. So pretty. He kissed his fingertips and touched them to the glass.

He so wished she would come back from her holiday. He missed seeing her around and he was anxious to see how pleased she’d be when she saw what good care he’d taken of her Rosebud.

He tucked the picture safely away and went happily downstairs to start mucking out the stables.

3

Grandmamma didn’t accompany Ann to King’s Cross station. She was an old and tired woman now and didn’t have the stamina for standing around on drafty platforms making long goodbyes. They said their farewells in the hallway of her lavish townhouse and Ann’s trail of tears continued as she embraced the elderly woman.

“I’m going to miss you so terribly grandmamma,” said Ann. “I’ll never forget you as long as I live. I swear I won’t And I won’t forget your kindness.”

“Foolish girl. Dry those tears. I have a few good years in me yet. I’ll likely travel up to Griply in the summer. We’ll see one another then.”

But this made Ann cry all the more to think of meeting her grandmother’s carriage not as Lady Ann Neville but as the ever obsequious Burt, tipping his cap and carrying her bags, beneath her notice and not even allowed to address her directly. This really was the last time she’d ever see this wonderful old woman on equal terms.

“I’m sorry grandmamma,” she wept. “I know you’ll see me again but I’m going to miss you all the same.”

Their embrace lasted for several long minutes and then Ann withdrew to the carriage outside and snapped at Gladys to hurry with the bags.

The ride to the station was awful. Her only consolation was that she had already gone through the trauma of her final goodbye to Richard. She didn’t think she could have walked away if she’d seen him one more time.

When the carriage pulled up outside King’s Cross, Ann climbed daintily down with the coachman’s help and waited as Gladys struggled with the bags. Then she walked through the great doors and along the smooth floors toward her platform, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

But when she reached the platform she heard a familiar voice calling “Ann!”

She turned and there, rushing up onto the platform was her Richard! Her handsome beautiful Richard! He ran to her and took her hands in his.

“Good gracious, Richard! What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t let you go without seeing you again,” he replied. “These past weeks have been the best weeks of my life; spending the time with you, sharing your company. I don’t want it to end.”

“But it must end Richard,” said Ann. “I’m so sorry but I have to go back. The tickets have been bought. Gladys is already putting the bags on board.”

“I’ve never known a woman as special as you before Ann. Never so beautiful or as charming.”

“Oh Richard, stop, please. I can’t bear it. I’ve adored my time here with you as well and I’d give anything to be able to stay forever. Anything.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“What?” Ann’s breath caught and her hand rise to her chest.

“Stay here in London Ann. I’m begging you. Don’t ever go back.”

“But I promised I’d return. I have responsibilities.”

Richard took a step closer. “Well perhaps there are other responsibilities that are more important. Responsibilities that would keep you here. Responsibilities… as my wife.”

“Richard?” Ann couldn’t believe what she was hearing; or seeing as he got down on one knee and withdrew a little box and flipped open the lid.

“Ann Neville… will you marry me?” he asked, looked deeply and lovingly into her eyes.

She gaped at him in wonder and surprise and in a flicker she thought of everything calling her back to Yorkshire. She thought of her promise to the former Ann and her duty to go back to her life and her job as a stable hand; to the cold and the labour; to the dirty body of a lower class working man with no love for culture or the finer things of life. To go back to being a big hairy man with no education and no brains. To be an ignorant yokel with a ridiculous bumpkin accent. To be ordered about all day; to be little more than a slave.

Her promise to the former Ann was sacred, but with this man here proposing to her, her mind suddenly leapt at every rationalization, however flimsy, to undermine that resolve; chief being that the promise she had made had been to Lady Ann. And she was Lady Ann… now. The person who had remained in Yorkshire was no lady. He was nothing but a filthy ignorant lower class urchin. He wasn’t one of the quality, and as such, his feelings didn’t matter. A promise made to him was worthless.

He had made his choice to become Burt, and in doing so, he’d relinquished all control to her. She was the lady of the manor now. He was a servant. If she chose to change the arrangement then she could at any time. She wasn’t pretending to be Lady Ann anymore, she really was Lady Ann, body and soul, and she’d be damned if she’d give up her happiness for some jumped up little turd of a servant.

That dirty creature up there in Yorkshire wasn’t Lady Ann in any way anymore. He was just Burt Harper. Just the idiot yokel stable hand. His feelings or his future didn’t matter one whit.

She opened her mouth to say “Yes” to Richard but the word caught on her lips. Because she knew right from wrong – no matter how much the vindictiveness of the original Ann personality might be settling across her persona. She still had the lesson that her old da had told her and she had to follow it; those simple words that carried such profound meaning…

Ann hesitated and cocked her head to the side.

The saying her old dad had told her so many times when she’d been growing up as a boy…

But… That was funny. For the life of her she couldn’t remember them anymore. They were gone, with so many of the other Burt memories.

She shook her head to clear it. It didn’t matter anymore. Whatever saying it was it was obviously pointless and trivial – the ramblings of a mere servant and nothing more. Inconsequential.

What mattered was this wonderful man before her. What mattered was the diamond engagement ring he was offering her.

“I love you Richard,” she found herself saying. “I think I fell in love with you on that first night as you took me dancing. And yes. I will spend the rest of my life with you. I’ll live here in London and I’ll be the woman you want me to be.”

He got to his feet and slipped the ring onto her slim finger. “Oh Ann. I’m so happy. I love you so much.”

“I’ll be everything you could ever desire in a wife.”

And they embraced as Gladys looked on with tears in her eyes.

4

As Ann pressed her lips to her fiancé’s and melted into his strong grip, Burt was knee deep in the stream at the bottom of the fields, shoveling mud up from its banks.

His body was covered in sweat and his arms were aching from the weight of the water he was lifting in addition to the mud. It was filthy dirty work and he’d asked Harry if he could do something different today but the old man had bellowed at him long enough to make it clear he didn’t have any choice. It needed doing and that was that. What his opinion was didn’t make any difference. He had to admit, was hardly in a position to make decisions. And he was so dense he always made the wrong choices anyway.

The dinner bell went from up at the hall and he sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He dumped down the shovel and climbed out of the stream, frowned at how wet the bottoms of his trousers were, then shrugged and started ambling back.

As he walked, his mind wandered and fell, predictably on to his lovely mistress, Lady Ann, on her beautiful slender form, her smooth arms; her pretty face; her shiny hair. He got a little smile on his face as his thoughts shambled from one image of her to another.

“I might walk round the ‘ouse and see if I can’t get a glimpse of er after I’ve ad me food,” he said to himself. “That’d be grand.”

He wondered what she’d be wearing today and how pretty she’d look in it… and if she’d want to take her horse out later. That’d be nice if she did. He’d get a good look at her up close if—

“Ang on a minute.” He slapped the side of his head. “What am I thinkin!? She’s still on holidee ain’t she! Blimey! My ead’d fall right off if it wasn’t screwed on tight.” He chuckled, walking on, wondering when she’d be back and how much he’d get to see of her when she was. She’d always ignored them when they were growing up but he had hoped she might see what a strong man he’d grown up into and realise that maybe he was a good catch after all. He wondered if she might even want to—

He stopped. And his mouth fell open. “Chuffin eck!” He looked round, taking stock of where he was. “E’ya, this is all wrong! This ain’t right at all! I shouldna be wonderin what Lady Ann will be doing! I am Lady Ann!”

And then it all came back to him and in a wave of horror he realised what had happened – how long he’d gone acting exactly like Burt – thinking he really was Burt – forgetting that he ever was a lady!

“I’m not Burt! I’m not Burt! I’m Lady Ann!”

His heart rate was spiking, his breathing rapid as he realised how mired he’d become; and then it came back to him what he’d been doing in his terror and stress – that he’d been actually wishing he could remain Burt forever! To never go back to his old life!

“No!” he cried. “This shouldna be happening! I’m one of the quality! I don’t wanna be a lower class servant for the rest o me days!”

His thoughts were all over the place, buzzing with contradictions. His blanking out of the reality of this trap had been the only thing keeping him stable. Now he’d had this moment of clarity the stress was threatening to come back in its entirety. Because her ladyship still hadn’t come back and it was a full week after she’d been meant to! For all he knew she had decided never to come back!

He gripped the sides of his head, the different strains of thought and emotion pulling him in every direction. He’d come so close to forgetting everything; to really believing he was Burt! And what if Lady Ann had come back while he was in that state? What if she offered to exchange and he told her no!!!

What if she destroyed the amulet, really thinking he wanted to stay like that!!!

The idea of that was utterly petrifying!!

But it was also…

He lowered his head. It was also so enticing.

His shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

He didn’t know what to do or think. He needed Lady Ann to come back. He didn’t know how long he could go on resisting this insidious morass, He didn’t know how long it would be before he gave in entirely as he had come close to doing already.

“I ave to focus,” he said. “I ave to remember who I am an tell meself I want to go back. I don’t wanna be a workin man for the rest o me life.”

But…

He shook his head, gripping it all the tighter.

Part of him did want that. Part of him wanted it more than anything.

5

Grandmamma was surprised when Ann appeared back at her door but pleasantly so, and thrilled to see the diamond engagement ring on her finger.

She invited Ann and Richard in and said “Well of course you’re welcome to stay here again, for as long as you wish!”

They chatted excitedly as they went through to the drawing room and the servants were sent scurrying to gather tea and cake.

Ann felt over the moon. This had to be the happiest day of her life. It felt so great to be on the arm of this perfectly eligible bachelor, to be able to claim him as hers and to know that now, finally, she really was going to be able to keep this life. She really was Lady Ann forever!

Grandmamma chattered on about wedding plans, making recommendations for the best place to buy a gown and the best shop to purchase morning suits; which hat shops had to be avoided. It was all so bewildering! But Ann was distracted and she excused herself, slipping out to the study where she picked up the phone and waited for the operator.

“Hello. Yes please. I’d like to make a long distance call to Yorkshire… Griply. Griply Hall.”

She waited impatiently for the call to go through and then smiled when the butler picked up. “Good afternoon. Griply Hall.”

“Powell. It’s Lady Ann here.”

“Ah, m’lady. It’s a pleasure to hear your voice. Should I fetch the duchess to the telephone?”

“No. Quiet,” she snapped. “Listen to me.” She smiled coldly. “I want you to go out to the holiday cottage immediately and I want you to tell no one. Do you understand?”

“Yes m’lady. Of course.”

“In the cottage you will find an amulet under one of the sofa cushions.”

“Yes…”

“You’re to wrap it in a towel and carry it directly to my bedroom. Once there I want you to put it in the top drawer of my dressing table and then I want you to lock it. Do you understand?”

“Yes miss.”

“Tell no one. Is that clear?”

“Yes miss.”

“Good. Now do it immediately.”

She put the phone down, feeling electrified with anticipation.

None of this seemed real still: the idea that this life really was hers now. But it was, and she had to take steps to protect it. As long as that amulet was exposed there was still a chance she might lose everything and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

If Burt were to get his hands on it now then any number of things could go wrong.

6

When Burt finished for the day he walked slowly back to the hall over the fields, still feeling shaken and on edge.

His thoughts were all over the place and his emotions with them, as from minute to minute he fretted over his situation, knowing how close he’d come to giving up and letting himself actually want to become Burt.

It was a horrifying turn of affairs that his own subconscious would betray him like this. Even now he felt urges to just give in to it; to stop fighting; and it was so tempting to take that easier path. Struggling consciously was horribly wearing.

In the end he walked, repeating a mantra with each footfall, hoping to drum it into his mind enough so that he could relax, at least for a while. “I want to go back. I don’t wanna be stuck like this. I want to go back. I don’t wanna be stuck like this.”

As he entered the paved section of the estate surrounding the hall itself he spotted Powell, the butler walking away from the house with a flap of cloth in his hand. He thought nothing of it and went on walking, carelessly wondering which girl he might take out for a good hard rogering later that evening.

He paused for a minute, reflecting on that – questioning which part of him really wanted to take one of these slutty women and do that. Was there part of his original personality that wanted that or was he completely overcome now by his masculine drives?

The answer was though, of course, that he couldn’t tell anymore; and anyway, it didn’t make any difference. He felt the urges as though they were his, so in effect they were. It was the same with every other aspect of his personality now. He knew that many of the qualities he had came from his salt-of-the-earth brain and breeding but that didn’t make them any less his. He was who he was. Where the thoughts came from had been lost in the translation.

But that made him quiver all the more with fear.

He wandered on, passing close to the holiday cottage and saw Powell emerge, holding the same towel, now wrapped round something small.

“Burt!” he snapped. “Come here!”

Burt started a little and shambled over as the butler fiddled with a large ring of keys, trying to find the right one. It was awkward with the bundle in the crook of his elbow and looking harried, he held it out. “Hold this a minute while I lock up the cottage.”

“Lock it up?” Burt felt a jet of panic to think of the amulet secreted in there suddenly out of his reach. He dutifully took the bundle of toweling and watched Powell hunt for the key but his mind was on only the amulet and what trouble this complication was going to cause.

If he couldn’t get inside to reach the amulet then how would he turn back to Lady Ann when she returned? Though surely… Surely that didn’t matter because she would have the power to gain entrance and could get Powell to unlock it again. If anything, the cottage being locked made it safer.

Feeling better, he looked down at the parcel in his hands, idly wondering what it was. Powell wasn’t looking so he lifted back one of the corners of the towel and gasped when he saw the familiar curve of the amulet.

He couldn’t believe it! He had it in his hands right now!

A myriad of ideas flashed through his mind: Where was Powell taking it? Would it be taken out of reach? What if he ran with it now? What if he used it to swap with someone else while he waited for her ladyship to return?

But above all else in this confused slew of panic, he knew one thing. He had to keep hold of it, no matter what the cost was. To lose track of the amulet now would be disastrous! What if Powell lost it!? Or destroyed it!? How did he even know it was there anyway!?

The key turned in the lock and Burt looked up in alarm as Powell withdrew the clattering ring and held out his hand, oblivious to the significance of this moment. “Thank you Burt. I hate fiddling with all these keys. I’ll have it back now.”

Burt gaped at him. “What is it? Where are you taking it?”

“Never you mind what it is,” replied Powell. “It’s none of your business. But if you must know, Lady Ann called and asked me to take it into the house.”

“Lady… Ann?”

Burt’s mind was whirling.

“Yes. Now hand it to me please.”

Burt shook his head slightly, looking down at the bundle and then back up at the butler.

“Burt. I’m losing my patience with you. Do as you’re told.”

He had to run – to get out of there – to go anywhere. But he was frozen to the spot.

He was being given a direct order by one of his… his betters and his entire body told him to hand over the amulet, even though he knew that this act might trap him in the life of a servant forever.

All he had to do was keep it and he could change back as soon as he had the opportunity. If he gave it up then he lost all control.

Why would Lady Ann have asked it to be moved? Could she be planning to betray him; leave him trapped in her dirty life and lowly position? He just didn’t know! He could risk letting it go!

But he had been given an order. The butler was glaring at him even now, demanding with his eyes and outthrust hand that Burt hand over the bundle.

He didn’t know what to do!

But he did know at the same time. He knew exactly what to do. It was as his old da had always told him…

“You have to do the right thing my boy. And you must always do as you’re told.”

He remembered that lesson from his childhood in perfect clarity, though he didn’t recall considering it before. He had to do as he was told. That was the most important principle of his life. It outshone everything else.

Didn’t it?

Surely it did. It felt so important to do that – to always follow orders. What other choice did he have?

He took one last look down at the amulet, and though he knew that keeping hold of it was perhaps his last and only chance of regaining his life of riches, his servant’s brain was too entrenched now. There was no escaping it. He had to follow the instructions.

He handed Powell the amulet in its towel and stood back as the older man walked back up towards Griply Hall, knowing that his own servility might just have doomed him to a life of poverty and serfdom.

That he was now so much a servant in spirit as well as body that he had as good as given up all hope of being one of the quality again!