Review, Edit and Update:
A Better Way brings the core cast of characters together and to Emelina's attention. Most of my edits were related to verb use (present vs past) in the first paragraph to address Emelina's new awareness of her role as 'boss' of Beaufort Estate. I also fleshed out personal reactions around dialogue later in the piece, for both Emelina and Digby.
A Better Way
Emmie had the house to herself. Down in the kitchen at the long plank table, Emmie read the report Brigitte had written. From their visit with Samuel and the lunch they had with Dez, she had drawn a troubling picture. The notes were clear and concise, but they left out something. Some kind of quality. Emmie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was maybe like it missed the sunshine. She hadn’t realized that Brigitte could write so clinically. She had stripped down both conversations to a very skeletal form. Orchard - garden - general yard maintenance - pending apiary - the dollar value to the estate. There was nothing about the quality of life for the people living and working on the estate. Emmie was beginning to recognize a very uncomfortable feeling that she had been ignoring for a very long time. Each time it bubbled up, she distracted herself or locked it in the far reaches of her mind. In a whisper, Emmie said “I don’t like being the boss. But I am. Just because Michael left me a wealthy woman and left me in charge.”
Now that she could see the skeleton that Brigitte had drawn for her, it was obvious that people made her home such a wonderful place to live. Those people - Digby, Martha, Cook, Samuel and Brigitte - were not in the report except as dollars. Emmie had never considered herself a business woman, but there had to be a better way. “There just has to be a better way.”
Digby’s stalwart and steady steering of this craft became devalued by this report. Just as were the rest of the staff. Martha runs the household like it was her own and does it all with a light touch and laughter, keeping Digby informed about day to day needs for the home. Cook is generous and cheerful. Emmie smiled and took a deep breath, recalling the delicious aroma of bread or the savoury taste of Cook's roast beef dinners or the delicious soups and thick hearty sandwiches. Samuel with his drawl, really is part of the land he cared for. Unlike his short, terse conversational style, he takes them all down the winding road of history of the Beaufort estate. Digby had listened to the same stories from his father when his father was butler. Brigitte had proven to be very flexible - a lady’s maid who really had to function as a nurse maid for Emmie, a cleaning woman, and now she becoming her personal assistant. And Giles. Yes, he could often be seen leaning casually against the vehicle waiting for Emmie. But on the estate he gets grease on his hands with a smile on his face while he keeps all the vehicles in excellent running order. Her sister Dez, just barely in the picture, is merely a footnote at the bottom of the page as Project Manager of the apple orchard and the apiary that had yet to be developed. So very importantly, it had been Dez who kept Emmie out of her doldrums; doldrums that Emmie could easily have embraced. Emmie saw the Beaufort estate in a way she had never dreamed possible.
Digby stepped out of his office, turned and pulled the door shut. Locking it, he put his keys in his slacks pocket. Picking up his briefcase, he prepared to cross the kitchen. “Miss Emelina. I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“Digby! I thought the house was empty.” She tried to blink tears back.
“Whatever is wrong, Mrs. Beaufort?” Digby set down his briefcase and offered a tissue. “Here, it looks like you need this. Now tell me what’s wrong.” Always part of his butler role, he could be very solicitous. He did, however, care very much for Mr. Michael's wife.
“Thank you, Digby.” Emmie dabbed at her eyes. “Digby would you have time to talk with me? If you have to go, we can talk in the morning.”
“Of course I can talk with you. I will always have time for you. What is it?” He sat down across the table from Miss Emelina, giving her his undivided attention.
“I have been studying and talking and looking at this whole place and the responsibility that I have shirked all these years. It’s so...........overwhelming! I can hardly take any more.” Miss Emelina's resolve was crumbling. She almost wanted to give up. Digby's response, as kind as it was, pushed her further away from the realities that she had seen.
“Well, Miss Emelina, you just give it all to me and I can take care of things for you. After all isn’t that what I’m paid for?” Digby was a bit uncomfortable when he said that, feeling at once just a tiny bit resentful but wanting also to help Mr. Michael's wife in whatever way he could.
“But Digby, I worry about what I should be doing. I don’t want to go back to being helpless, and quite frankly, hopeless. Life was getting darker and darker all the time. That’s not even the important thing. My biggest worry is all of you. Good, good people that keep this old place running. And all just because I pay you………Oh, my goodness…..that didn’t come out right at all. You do get paid, but the work you do is full of life and caring. Certainly it is caring about the estate, but it has been home for all of you for many years. James, you grew up here……oh, I’m sorry…do you mind if I call you James?” Emmie's words tumbled directly from her heart. Digby could see how distressed she really was. This was not the helpless woman they had all been taking care of since the death of her husband.
“Oh course I don’t mind.” Digby felt quite awkward and a little nervous. Mrs. Beaufort had never called him by his first name. “Are you considering a change in staff?”
“Oh no, no, no! I didn’t mean to give you that impression. I was just running on and on. I should have called my sister to talk. I just want to figure out how we can all stay together, but I hate being the boss.” Emelina smiled shyly “Please, don’t tell my sister that…… But there must be a better way and I’m going to find it.”
“There you are, Miss Emelina. Much better now that you’ve had a chance to talk. It will be all right. You take some time away from this. Remember, you’ve only just been truly awake for a few months, studying for just a couple of weeks. Have you considered talking to the Estate lawyer to go over Mr. Michael’s will again and how the estate is to be managed?” Digby offered Miss Emelina more concrete suggestions to give her some relief and at the same time, help her in her quest for Estate knowledge.
“Thank you, Digby. Go ahead and continue with your evening. I hadn’t thought about talking to the Estate lawyers. That’s an excellent idea.” Even just that suggestion relieved Emelina and gave her something solid to work with. Would that be part of Brigitte's role?
They strolled to the kitchen door. Emelina walked with Digby out onto the porch. He raised his umbrella against steady rain. Emelina watched as he drove away. Rain ran down the gutters and dripped from the eaves infusing the air with freshness.
“Character - the willingness to accept responsibility for
one’s own life - is the source from which self-respect springs.”
~ Joan Didion, On Self-Respect
Review, Edit and Update:
Goals are interesting things. Goals scored in a hockey game. Goals set for a future career. Goals are some thing to be achieved. This is usually accompanied by a couple of feelings ~ ‘OMG! I’ll never be able to do everything in time!’ What is that? Low self-esteem? Lack of belief in oneself? The other feeling is: ‘omg. They’ll be so proud of me if I really do get there. I might be a star hockey player. Or..or..a world famous concert pianist.’ And that feeling? Cautious optimism? Is that a feeling or a projection?
Self doubt - an inside job
Power struggle offered
