Love Will Continue - Sequel to Phantom Child

2. Rows at the dining table

March, 1907

Sunday evening

I was staring out the window, as a break taken from sweeping the dust off the floor in one of the attic rooms. Outside it was cloudy and dark. I was wondering would it start to rain. There was something intriguing about that kind of weather, that made me like it. It may have been this darkness in the mood that the clouds were setting; the same darkness I had grown accustomed to after spending some time with... Nevermind that. Maybe it was just the fact that, on a day like this, I didn't need to be curled up and tangled in an old blanket, that wasn't usefull in shielding from the cold anymore, and instead, I could stare at the black clouds from behind the window pane, safe, indoors.

Yes, that might have been the reason why I liked the cloudy skies so much. However I did not enjoy at all the anxiety, that the never coming storm was evoking in me. That feeling of uncertainty, will the lightning finally strike or not? I sighed, when, after about ten minutes of staring at the sky, it still hadn't.

Suddenly I heard my own name being called down from the kitchen and immediately shouted back:

"I'm down in a second!"

I knew it was Camila, the cook. She was a lady in her 40s, rather plump and not much shorter than me. And was very friendly to all, not to mention her cooking, which gained the approval of everyone in the house. She was just such a likable person.

I hurriedly set the broom in the storage and took a turn to another corridor that would soon lead me out to the kitchen.

Since I was living at De Chagnys' mansion, I was gladly working around, cleaning and helping Camila with preparing food from time to time. I knew, I couldn't be of assistance in this house in any other way. So, daily, I would sweep around the rooms visited by no one and wipe up mirrors that hadn't seen anyone's face in a long while either way. The mirrors were actually my favourite part. They were showing me the face of the only person that I had on this Earth - myself. Though many times I had rather hoped to see someone else in there, this face had never appeared. I was just playing fool of myself.

I ran down the stairs and as soon as I did, I spotted Camila, holding the dishes and waiting for me to help. I walked up to her, took the plates and began setting them on the table as well as forks and knives. She took off her chef's hat and ran her fingers through thick, brown hair, sighing.

"Hard day?" I queried jokingly.

"You know how much work it takes to perpare young Vicomte's favourite lasagne?" She asked rhetorically.

"You made lasagne?" I exclaimed "I would've helped you, if you had told me earlier."

She only rolled her eyes in response and went to the kitchen to get the food to the table. As soon as she returned, the whole dining room was filled with the scent of tomatoes and fried meat. I didn't even try to deny how much I loved lasagne; especially the one made by her.

When the smell was spreading through the entire house, we heard a pair of feet rushing our way. A few moments later Gustave stormed into the dining room, grinning widely.

"Madame Camila, you made lasagne!" He shouted in excitement and ran to embrace his hero of the day.

Camila playfully messed up Gustave's dark hair a little. He had to let go off her though, because otherwise he wouldn't recieve his portion of favourite food. The boy climbed onto the chair and settled himself, impatiently waiting for it to be served.

When I busied myself with putting the pieces of delicious lasagne on our plates, Christine and Raoul walked into the dining room as well, brought by the mouth-watering scent. I took one glance at Raoul and then gave Christine a questioning look. Her eyes were enough to assure me of her husband being sober and that it was safe to dine with him at one table. I remained sceptical though; with this man you could never be sure of anything.