At first it was very, very bad. I had planned to tell Mam and Da that the Markam’s had decided they didn’t need to keep an extra servant on, now that their household was smaller. I would be getting a good reference so I could get another job, easy.
But in the telling everything came back to me and I started to shake. “He put his hands on me,” I blubbed, “he’s been doing it for weeks and weeks. Today he tried to . . .tried to . . “ When my parents finally got the story out of me they were in a blether. My Da grabbed his coat and headed out the door before anyone could stop him.
When he came back he told us Mrs. Andrews had told him everything, but begged him not to upset Mr. Markam, who was still convalescing. He could have another heart attack, she said. Da knew there was no use going after Mr. Connor. He would deny everything, and besides, money and position always win, just like Mrs. Andrews said. We would have to be satisfied with Mr. Markam’s good reference.
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