Chapter One, Episode 120 - Finding Herself - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
This episode is a little side trip into a major move for Brigitte Smithson, Emelina Beaufort Lady's Maid - now Personal Secretary. There were few edits to make: some punctuation and minor wording changes later on in this piece.

Finding Herself

The wonder of being independent was almost overwhelming. Brigitte had been dragging her feet about this decision. At twenty-nine years old, living with her parents, while comfortable felt somehow constrained. They had worked out a relatively easy relationship in the past four years. She had returned to Hartley from the mainland when she was twenty-five, jobless, homeless and tanned from her post high school years of wandering. Like many young adults she had been trying to ‘find herself’. She learned that finding oneself was not like walking into a store and choosing a preferred persona from a shelf. It was the dirt under your fingernails from digging a hole for a tree…..over and over. Brushing black flies away from your sun baked face. Never having a hair style except tied up with a rubber band or string. Finding herself was wearing a cutesy uniform to wait on customers who were either grateful, rude or just people. It was learning how to smile regardless of the patron ordering their food. Finding herself was learning how to pick fruit from a tree laden with apples or pears or peaches, deciding which was ripe enough to pick, gently releasing it from its home and filling the heavy canvas bag strapped across her shoulder and back. Finding herself was being a nanny and not really even liking children, but learning they weren’t as scary as she had thought. Finding herself was being without a home base but learning how to eke out a living where ever she lived. Finding herself was turning her motorcycle west. Her parents had welcomed her home.

Brigitte had been working at the Beaufort Estate after she had washed the dust and dirt out of her mind and body; the joys and lessons from her long time away clean and polished. She was often unaware of it, but she really had found that precious thing she called ‘herself’. Even so, when she was sitting in Digby’s office at the Beaufort Estate for her job interview, her heart beat wildly and with each word spoken, she could hear the dryness of her mouth. She was interviewed by the Housekeeper, Martha Haverstock and the butler, James Digby. The job? To be a Lady’s Maid for Mrs. Beaufort and to be the cleaner for the Upstairs. It seemed a very strange household. Mrs. Beaufort was a recent widow and in deep grief. It was a big old house, still run in the manner of an Upstairs/Downstairs situation. Brigitte wasn’t even sure she wanted the job. There was far more staff than one individual would require. She would be the youngest staff member by several decades. There seemed little life in the house on the day of her interview. The grounds were immense. After many resumes and interviews either declined or without a response, she would not even be able to pay for her groceries, let alone the little rent her parents asked for. She needed the job. 

Now? At the beginning, being a Lady’s Maid for the Estate Owner, with no other training than experience serving restaurant patrons, it was just one more challenge. A challenge with a paycheque. It was a challenge she had met and was now Mrs. Beaufort’s Personal Assistant. Now she was standing beside her 'Old Faithful' motorcycle in front of what would now be her own home, one half of a duplex on the Estate. It had been Martha’s home. So many changes had occurred. While the Covid19 pandemic had destroyed many lives in the swath that it had cut around the world, this strange group of people had not only survived but thrived despite the restrictions. Admittedly, it seemed almost like a soap opera many times. Old relationships finally out in the open, one wedding, a story teller and even a ghost. But such good, kind people. 

The rumble of a truck caused Brigitte to turn. Samuel Forrester, the estate gardener and yardman, using his pickup, had volunteered to pick up her belongings and help her move in. She didn’t have much, but her motorcycle, her clothes and a few pots and pans. Her parents had insisted she take her own bed and any furnishings in her bedroom. Joanie, Martha’s daughter lived next door. “Brigitte Smithson? So wonderful to finally meet you. These two little ruffians are mom’s grandchildren. Children this is Miss Smithson.” Joanie ruffled their hair, looking at them fondly. “Ben, say hello to our new neighbour. Abby, say……..” Joanie stopped. Little Abby had already run over to Brigitte and hugged her knees. “Mommy, is this the new lady that’s grandma’s friend?……Ben….mom said to say hello to her, come on.”  Nine year old Ben, shyly walked over to Brigitte. “Hello. Do you ever wear a mask? If you don’t have one, I can give you mine. Abby shouldn’t have hugged you right away like that.” 

Brigitte smiled and knelt down at eye level with the children. “It is lovely to meet you. Your grandmother has told me a lot about you both. I’ve seen the pictures you draw for her and they are really fun.” Glancing briefly at Joanie to catch her eye she said “And if it’s ok with your mother, you can call me Brigitte.”

“Do you have crayons, Bridge?” Abby, taken immediately to Brigitte, had trouble pronouncing her name. It almost sounded like the word bridge, a word Abby knew.

“Well, I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure I can find them. Maybe after I get all moved in you can come and visit me to help me with my colouring books.” Brigitte didn’t have any crayons or colouring books, but a trip to the drugstore would solve that little obstacle.

“Come on, children. Let Brigitte get into her new home. We can visit with her later. Ben, come away from Brigitte’s motorcycle.” Joanie tried to shepherd her children home.

“Ben, why don’t you come over tomorrow afternoon and I’ll show it to you.” Brigitte’s experience as a nanny would come in handy after all. 

“Can I ride it?” Ben looked up at her hopefully.

“Oh no, you’re not quite big enough yet. Isn’t that right, mom?” Brigitte met Joanie’s eyes. “But make sure you come over tomorrow after you have your lunch. I’ll have a surprise for you.”

Joanie took her children by their hands and tried once more to move them in the direction of home. Brigitte would get things set up tonight, but in the morning she’d have a ride into Hartley for crayons, colouring books and a motorcycle for Ben. She knew exactly the toy store to go to. Maybe she’d get him a model motorcycle that they could assemble together.

“People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. 

But the self is not something one finds, it is something one creates.”

~ Thomas Szasz, known for Critique of Psychiatry

April 1920 - September 2012