Chapter 12: A Strange Encounter

After lunch on the third day we had a surprise order to make ourselves ready for a special task. Miss Matilda was entertaining and we were to wait on her guests.

I had not expected to be required (or even allowed!) to serve at a real event with so little training, but Miss Matilda had decided that since was short of staff we should be pressed into service. Mrs Danbury informed us that we would all have to play our part and that we would have black uniform dresses with white aprons and caps for the event.

She checked us over before we were allowed upstairs to the dining room, not letting us leave the servant’s hall until she was completely satisfied with out appearance. I felt more than a little pleased that she didn’t find anything wrong with my uniform.

In the dining room, Miss Matilda was enjoying the company of about a dozen guests. Men and women sat around the dining table, all seeming unconcerned by the gender of those serving them.

Miss Carson was waiting at table. She was being helped by another maid that I hadn’t seen before. She was as perfectly dressed and made up as Miss Carson and it was easy to see how well they had learned their skills as they managed the challenges of keeping everyone supplied with food while at the same time making sure that all were having a good time. Miss Carson’s companion – Spencer, I discovered she was called - in particular seemed relaxed at dealing with the flirting banter of some of the male guests, laughing with them in a familiar way that I was sure would have earned any of us the attentions of Mrs Danbury’s cane. She was a shapely woman, I guessed in her late twenties in comparison to the much younger Miss Carson, and her bobbed blonde hair gave her a vivacious air. She had obviously paid as much attention to her appearance as she did to her work. Her bright red lipstick was expertly applied and her eyes were made more dramatic by skillful mascara lines. Somehow she managed to nip between the tables in spite of the fact that she was wearing shoes with a dangerously high heel. She seemed the perfect image of a dutiful, attentive, maid servant.

Our job was to make sure that the food from the kitchens reached the side boards in the dining room and that dirty plates and dishes were removed as quickly as possible. That kept us running up and down stairs almost continuously. The bearded and mustached maid that had let me in when I first arrived was making sure that each of the guest had whatever they wanted to drink and between us all, I felt that we managed to keep the event running smoothly.

Once the guests had all gone, Mrs Danbury lined us up in the servant’s hall. I was standing next to Miss Spencer and made some remark to the effect that she was obviously so good at what she did and how friendly all the guests seemed towards her. “Well,” she said, “I was a trainee just like you once.”

“Well, not just like me,” I said jokingly, “you do have a bit of a head start as a very attractive woman.”

Spencer laughed. “Not at all. I didn’t start out like this,” she responded. “It’s not just skills training that Miss Matilda provides. You would be surprised to learn what can be achieved with some of the surgical and hormone treatment courses that she offers. But I expect your Mistress will explain all about that in good time.”

The significance of her words didn’t register with me at first but I looked in astonishment. “So you’re a...”

“Well, sort of,” she said with a girlish giggle. “I’m still locked up down below like you but I don’t have to fill my bra with padding or have too much corseting to get this shape.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Luckily our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Danbury. “Ah, Meakin,” she said, “I see you are talking with Spencer. You can learn a lot from him, I am sure.”

She turned to the rest of the group. “Well,” she said, “I think you did surprisingly well for beginners. Miss Matilda has asked me to pass on her thanks for your efforts. Her guests were most impressed.”

A murmur of satisfaction ran around the group and, for once, Mrs Danbury didn’t cut us off.

“Still,” she went on, “now you must get back to your classes. Spencer – can you go up to the French Bedroom. One of Miss Madleine’s guests has asked if you could just pop up and see him. The rest of you, carry on.”

Spencer turned to me and giggled. “Oh dear, looks like my jaw is going to be aching again at the end of this afternoon. And I’d gone to so much trouble with this lipstick. Still what’s a girl to do?”

It was at once surprising and shocking that Spencer made such a convincing woman and was so accepting of what was expected of him. More to the point, I was now worried that Suzanne might have something similar planned for me. As I said, she takes things far too seriously.