Maids, always from the black underclass of Barbados society, needed the few extra dollars to help with their own expenses. What a grueling day it must have been for them. Their homes had no running water or electricity, neither was there enough space around their chattel houses on their tenant holdings to cultivate much of a vegetable garden. If lucky, they had a fruit bearing tree such as breadfruit, golden apple, sugar apple, ackee or paw paw, producing, seasonally, enough to sell the surplus for a few extra dollars. My parents and grandmother were not mean and shared produce when they could. But this chapter is not about these poor, unfortunate people except where they became a part of my family life for a while.
My grandmother recounted a story of an unfortunate encounter with a maid, long before I was born and when my father was a child. Granny was poor by any standards except that of the majority - black and coloured people. She used her only skill to earn enough to feed, school and clothe her eight children - she baked cakes and pastries, make jams, jellies and preserves which had a ready market through the Women's Self Help on Broad Street and some well-off individuals in grand homes. But, in order to do her baking, boiling and delivering, as well as providing household help, she needed to hire a servant - someone who might have been in even more dire straights than she was.
Centrally located on Lower Bay Street the rented home, in the middle one of the trio known as The Three Sisters, she employed a young woman to turn up early every morning, to have the freshly baked cakes carefully packed into a large basket for delivery. The fragile goods were counted to her so that there would be no opportunity for theft. Into the large cane basket went tins of various cup cakes, we called puddings; slices known as Rich Cakes; sponge fingers and cakes, small meringues we called kisses, and sometimes jars of guava jelly or tasty morsels of guava cheese or shaddock rind were included. A small delivery book was also provided for the customer to sign, for both deliveries and returns of items unsold from the previous day.
As the weeks passed, Granny became convinced that the maid was stealing groceries. The small amounts that went missing were not enough to be noticed in most households today, but with eight children to feed and a business to run, she noticed the discrepancies. She had to do something about it. First of all she needed to discover if her suspicions were correct and her constantly hungry children had been eliminated from the suspect list. So she laid a trap for the servant.
Pay day was on Saturday at the end of the half day. Having decided that it would be better to wait until it was time hand over the week's wages, the maid, with purse in hand, would be asked to run just one more errand - a visit to a nearby shop. Off went the maid with the money for the errand in her hand, but her handbag left behind in the kitchen. Once the unsuspecting girl was out of sight, Granny lifted the handbag from it's resting place and emptied it onto the kitchen table. There it was - the evidence of her pilfering. A few matches, a couple of tablespoons of sugar wrapped in paper, a similar amount of rice, a little salt, a couple of teaspoons of tea, some lard and margarine, a few ounces of flour, a sliver of blue soap and a candle. The quantities so small that they could not be purchases legally made. No, it was loot. A little extra to supplement her meager wage. This would add up to a considerable quantity over a week; it caused a shortage in the carefully calculated and limited rations.
Granny replaced items that belonged to the maid but left the pilfered items on the table. This stealing could not be tolerated and summary dismissal was the only thing left to do now.
The stolen items in full view, Granny allowed the girl to retrieve her handbag. She paid her for her week's work and told her that she was terminating her employment. With that, the guilty maid ran up the passage to the front door, passing the chiffonier on the way. Having a good head-start and knowing that she could not be caught, she put out her arm and swept every glass, cup, saucer, plate and bowl from the top shelf onto the floor where it landed in shards. Down the steps she ran and away, along the road, pursued by shouts of surprise and anger, as Granny viewed the devastation to her best glassware and fine china.
After that experience, all future dismissals were made with the servant standing outside the back door where there would be no opportunity for such revenge.
I loved hearing that story and over the years wondered, when I employed my own servants, if they would also be thieves.
