New Beginnings Hetty Feather

I want Feather taken care of. Get Mr Grace's runners onto it.

Search the streets yourself.

We could take on another family. A girl, perhaps.

She has the book. It's got dirt on everyone.

Now, I will give you this book, but on one condition -

you will get me on the next available ship to New York.

Stop! Matron's running away to America.

Lock her in her office until the constable gets here.

Cranbourne!

I risked everything to make sure Matron paid for what she did.

That's got to be worth something, hasn't it?

She's gone.

Finally, after all my years at the foundling hospital,

this was my new beginning.

I was only a few miles from the hospital, on the heaths of London...

..but, to me, we were travelling to a whole other world.

I'd left my past with Matron behind.

It felt like, here, nothing would ever hurt me again.

I knew, at last, I would find a way to see my mother.

I was free.

So you're our foundlings.

I'm Mrs Penhaligon, housekeeper.

From now on, you will report to me.

Well, as free as a servant could be.

This is Calendar Hall.

Welcome to your life in service.

-Your name?

-Hetty Feather.

I'm Sheila, Sheila Ormsby.

Trained to the highest level, with exemplary kitchen skills

and an excellent shortcrust pastry.

I waited on the governors, too, and served luncheon

in the dining hall. Upstairs or downstairs, I'll fit in perfectly.

Sheila, my staff speak when they are spoken to.

-And you?

-I'm Gideon, ma'am.

You will each serve Mr Calendar and his wife to the best

of your ability. Likewise, his daughter, Miss Emily.

Master Edwin is not in your care, and Miss Constance,

we leave to the nursery maid.

Your work starts now.

Each day from half past five in the morning until the family

retire to bed, you will remain on duty and abide by my rules.

Be punctual, polite and courteous.

Answer all orders promptly,

and never share your opinion on any matter with your elders or betters.

We do not want to know.

Staff are not permitted visitors, friends, family or otherwise.

-Never?

-At any time.

Gideon, Agnes will show you to your room.

You will meet Jack in the garden. He'll instruct you.

And he doesn't take no messing.

-Come on.

-Yes, miss.

It's Agnes to you.

Hetty, Sheila, this way to your quarters.

-There's only bed.

-I was only expecting one maid of all work.

You're sharing. Get changed, and straight to duty.

Erm, that's Hetty's spare.

Your uniform is in the kitchen cupboard,

from the last scullery maid who left us.

A scullery maid?

While Hetty gets to swan around upstairs?

That's not fair.

I'll make up a bed...in the kitchen.

That's where you'll sleep tonight.

-On my own?

-It'll give you time to reflect on your insolence.

Now, unpack. There's still hours left in the working day.

Agnes will be sent to collect you.

-Thanks a lot, Feather.

-Well, what have I done?

If it wasn't for me rescuing you from Matron, you wouldn't be here.

Now you've got my job, my bed, so I think I'm having your shelf.

Do you mind?!

-That's not yours.

-Well, it's not yours either, so give it back!

Stop!

"G Bottomly. Female, delivered.

"Paid, two shillings."

What's this about? This is Matron's.

It's evidence against her, stupid.

Mr Grace says you never know when I might need it.

Matron's locked up in a prison cell, and we're here.

We don't need evidence.

And you call me stupid.

You're both requested in the drawing room. No dilly-dallying.

The new staff.

Welcome, Hetty.

-It is Hetty?

-Yes, ma'am.

-And you are?

-Sheila Ormsby.

Ah, yes. Welcome.

It's my wife's tradition to greet new house staff upstairs,

no matter what their position.

Mrs Calendar started it in India.

-And why not continue it here?

-This isn't India.

It's their first day, and I want it to be special.

I'm sure the girls will never forget it.

Staff, Mrs Calendar. Not girls.

In India, you see, it was much more informal. Wasn't it, George?

But we're at the hall now, and Mrs Penhaligon knows this place,

and London, far better than we do.

Yes, I'm sure.

First up, keeping the lawn tidy.

-All of it?

-Make a start now.

Simple work for a new boy. And no complaining.

-It's head gardener's rules.

-Oh, I'm used to rules, believe me.

-Right.

I'm off to do the walled garden.

Don't leave here till I come for you.

-Problem?

-No.

How many dishes can one family use?

-Here, Hetty, tonight's dessert was ice cream.

-Oh, I've never tasted it.

Fancy a try?

Sheila, leftovers are for children on the street.

I just got some on my finger.

Sink. Hetty, straight to your quarters.

Finish up, and then you can make your bed for the night.

DOOR BANGS/KEYS JANGLE IN LOCK

DOOR RATTLES

RATTLING CONTINUES

Who is it?

Who's there, I said!

RATTLING CONTINUES

I've got a rolling pin and I'm not afraid to use it!

DOOR RATTLES/SHE SCREAMS

I heard noises in the kitchen.

I heard something, too.

Can I sleep here tonight?

I promise I won't wriggle.

You better not.

What do you mean, you couldn't get in?

We tried, Mr Brumsden, but all the doors were locked,

and some barmy kitchen maid threatened us with a rolling pin.

Trying isn't good enough.

When I give you a job, I want it done.

-I sent you for that book.

-Alf! Alf!

-She barged in, I couldn't stop her.

-Go.

-What are you doing here?!

-I need your help.

Please, you are the only person I can trust. I need to get away.

I need to get out of London. Out of this country.

Is that right?

Well, perhaps you help me first.

-What?

-That Hetty girl.

-She's taken Mr Grace's book.

-Hetty Feather? Where is she?!

-Calendar Hall.

-Oh, no.

She's gone into service with the two others.

The boys have tried getting in there.

-Well, you can hardly turn up at Calendar Hall, Alf.

-Why not?

You could always renew your acquaintance

with Rosamund Calendar.

Rosie O'Reilly has no interest in our friendship.

Alf! Wait!

I need to get to America.

Think about it...

If I get caught, what might I find myself telling the police?

BELL RINGS

Sheila Ormsby! Why aren't you in the scullery?

Hetty Feather, you're late!

-Yes, Mrs Penhaligon.

-Sorry, Mrs Penhaligon.

Is that all you have to say for yourself?

I heard noises in the night, like someone was trying to get in.

I got scared.

I'll put it down to it being your first night in an unfamiliar house -

this time.

But I do not suffer fools, and I am not lenient twice.

Take Mrs Calendar's breakfast to her room directly.

She has a very busy day ahead, what with her

dressmaker's appointment and hours fixing her hair

with a curling iron.

-Well, step to it.

-Where's her room, Mrs Penhaligon?

Across the main hall, sharp left.

At the end of the corridor there is a staircase.

It's on the next landing, facing you.

Where?

-You go, I'll catch you up.

-Of course.

Now, Sheila is the one with brown hair.

-Can you find her?

-Yes.

She should be easy enough to flatter.

Let me see. Hmph.

One of you keep her busy while the other gets into the house. Yes?

-BOTH: Yes.

-What happens if they run into Hetty?

She saw the boys when she run off from the hospital.

Well, she wouldn't recognise them dressed like delivery boys.

Now, once you get the book, your reputation is clear...

as is mine.

Boys...

Off you go.

Excuse me, miss. I'm looking for Mrs Calendar's room.

-I'm Hetty, the new maid of all work.

-Emily Calendar.

Mr Calendar's eldest child, but not his heir.

That's left to my brother, not that he has a say in the matter but,

as a girl, one obviously doesn't have the correct requirements.

-Life's unfair like that.

-Emily, good morning.

What are you doing loitering?

I just went to say good morning to Edwin, father.

How is he today?

-Bored, just like every day.

-Hetty?

-Isn't there somewhere you need to be?

-Mrs Calendar's room.

Mrs Calendar's my mother.

I'm Constance.

I'll remember that, Constance.

Miss Constance.

Emily, what are you hiding?

Gray's Anatomy. Really?

Surely there must be something more appropriate in the library

than the intricate workings of the human body?

Emily only likes boring books.

-Well, no books are boring, Constance.

-Hetty...

Excuse me, sir. I've come to take Miss Constance to the nursery maid.

-CONSTANCE BLOWS RASPBERRY

-Constance!

Hetty, get down to the kitchen. Mrs Calendar likes her tea hot.

Get her a fresh pot.

Yes, Mrs Penhaligon. Mr Calendar.

Miss Emily, please remember you have an appointment with the dress

-maker this afternoon.

-How exciting.

And Lord and Lady Goodall are coming to dinner tonight.

As long as Henry's not invited. He's such a dull boy.

Must my children be so outspoken?

Her age, sir.

I'm very willing to guide her.

We'll have your family fitted back into English society in no time.

-Oi, less of the daydreaming.

-I'm not - there's a boy in the window.

-That's Master Edwin. He's ill.

-Well, what's the matter with him?

Mrs Penhaligan says that he has a weak disposition,

whatever that means.

She says that Mrs Calendar ordered him to stay inside.

Even Matron let us out for exercise.

But who are we to argue with the lady of the house?

All right, this garden needs to be perfect by tonight. Come on.

-KNOCK ON DOOR

-Come in.

Thank you, Hetty. Just leave it there.

Yes, ma'am.

How are you finding life at Calendar Hall?

Very well, ma'am, thank you.

It's a lot grander than the foundling hospital.

It did appear a rather hard regime.

-It...could be.

-Your matron seemed very strict.

She was, ma'am, but I had very good friends.

Well, friends are important at your age, I know.

Hetty?

My stepdaughter could do with a friend,

or someone to keep an eye on her.

If you ever see anything I ought to know about,

you will tell me, won't you?

I'll try, ma'am.

Veg for tonight's dinner, all ready and checked for you, miss.

The name's Agnes. And produce goes straight to the larder.

-Are you daft, or something?

-Yes, Agnes.

I mean, no, Agnes.

The larder! This minute!

Gidge!

-How are you? Are you settling in all right?

-Well, I'm trying.

Yeah, trying my patience.

I told you to fetch both crates of veg, or do you always skive off?

-Do you mind? That's my brother you're talking to.

-And you are?

Hetty, his sister.

Well, I'm Jack, his boss.

He takes order from me from now on. Not you.

-There's no need to be rude.

-I saw him sneaking about with someone.

-I think it was the daughter of the house.

-Gideon?

-The larder?

-Before I tell Mrs Penhaligan that you're

-keeping our staff from their duties.

-Sorry, Agnes, Jack.

You - drawing room. Morning coffee for Miss Emily.

Yes, Agnes.

-Delivery for you, miss.

-Fresh from Nelson's bakery.

-Not seen you around.

-What's your name?

Sheila. I'm new.

Thought so, cos I'd never forget that smile. Would you, Sydney?

Like an angel, Tom.

Let me guess - you must sleep in the attic so you're nearer the stars.

Top of the house, tucked in the corner.

An angel deserves a lot better.

Anyway, it's the housekeeper you want, not me.

Didn't anyone tell you? She doesn't like the bother.

Straight through to the pantry. I know the way.

Here. I always save a sweet bun in case I meet a pretty customer.

You say the nicest things, Tom.

Hetty?

Yes, Mrs Penhaligon?

Dust the picture frames and polish the furniture.

And the silverware needs polishing, too.

Yes, Mrs Penhaligon.

I'll be back later to check for finger marks.

Here, let me take that for you. Good luck.

What, all of it?

Maid-of-all-work means all work. Get to it, then.

Emily! How many times must I tell you? You can't sneak out here.

This isn't India, we have to adjust.

You didn't care what Edwin and I did in India.

Of course I cared. It's just that it matters more here.

The dressmaker is arriving soon, so please stay nearby.

I don't need another new dress.

-A girl requires smart clothes here, Emily.

-Oh!

And will Edwin be getting smart London clothes

for smart London society?

Of course not, because nobody sees him,

because no-one is allowed to see him, are they?

-Er...who are you?!

-I'm Gideon, the new gardener boy.

You're Edwin, aren't you?

Master Edwin, actually.

-And you're in here without permission.

-I'm sorry, Master Edwin.

I thought I saw someone run in the house.

It's just me here, as you can see.

-I'm not ill, as you've probably been told.

-Yes, Master Edwin.

I mean, no...

Don't believe everything you hear.

They just prefer me and Emily to be seen and not heard.

-Or in my case, hardly seen at all.

-I'm sorry.

I saw you looking out of the window.

Well, I used to collect garden specimens. Come on, have a look.

FAINT DIALOGUE

My stepmother says going out in the damp air could affect my health.

We were told going outside was good for you. Even when it was raining.

You'll get a lot of that.

Master Edwin?

Yes?

Edwin, who were you talking to?

No-one. I was just reading aloud.

Lunch is ready in the nursery. Constance is waiting for you.

Agnes will be sent up shortly to collect you.

Agnes? Master Edwin is waiting for you.

-What do I do now?

-Quick! Wheel me!

You can leave this way.

This will take you through to the drawing room. See? Secret door.

Perhaps next time you can bring me a specimen.

Next time, we can collect them ourselves.

-See you soon.

-Thank you.

We could go out walking, if you like.

It'd take more than a sweet bun, Tom, but I do like ice cream.

Right, we need to head back. The order's not complete.

-What?

-The job's not done. We're out of here.

Ah! Well, um...nice meeting up.

Forget it! And your bun was stale!

-We can't go back without the book.

-So what do we do?

Well...if it's not in the room, then she's either hidden it,

or she's got it on her.

-So what now?

-We need Hetty Feather.

Passable.

HETTY SIGHS

Right, wood needs fetching for the fires.

The wood shed is through the walled garden, past the East Gate.

-Yes, Mrs Penhaligon.

-Wait.

Maids, honestly!

Sometimes they're more trouble than they're worth.

Hetty? Get a move on, will you?

Well, go on!

-That's her.

-Come on!

Argh! Ah!

HETTY: You might think your worst days are behind you.

You might think you deserve better

than the drudgery of a life downstairs.

Here's some more for you.

Calendar Hall might have been a beautiful, grand house,

but nothing was how it appeared.

Everyone seemed to be hiding something.

Mrs Brumsden! Mr Brumsden!

What is this?!

-We couldn't find the book, sir.

-So we got you, Hetty Feather!

And just because you think you're safe...

..it doesn't mean that you are.

You've got the wrong GIRL!

Let me out! Let me out!

-You've got Emily?

-And strict instructions. Keep it to yourself.

You'll have to tell Mr Calendar. He'll get the police.

I'm in charge of this house.

Remember that, Master Edwin.

Hetty, this is scary.

We have to get Emily.

Be careful.

And when Hetty does finally turn up, she will be dismissed.

I know, Matron. She cannot be trusted!

-Get off of me!

-Leave her!

Hetty Feather.