Well, ha ha. There’s no rest as far as I’m concerned. Baby Freddie wakes up screaming just the same as always and I have to crawl out of my warm bed and change his napkins and give him his bottle, and by the time he’s settled Louisa comes trailing in clutching her doll and Victor leaps up and starts bouncing on his bed in his nightgown and I have to do my best to quieten them, because it’s Sunday. They have to wear their Sunday best, even the baby, and by the time I’ve got all three laced and buttoned and booted, my chilblains throb so bad I can barely do up my own clothes. It’s my Sunday best too, though my hideous servant uniform is nothing to show off about. We all have to go to church after breakfast. Louisa and Victor are supposed to sit still in the pew, but of course they swing their legs and nudge each other and giggle and I get the blame. If Freddie cries the Master and Mistress glare at me and expect me to stop him – but if he really gets going then I’m allowed to take him out of the church to carry him around outside.
