Mirror Walker

Chapter 4

THAT evening Charlie ate alone, everyone separating off into their own routine. She was grateful that the excruciating dinners didn't transpire every day. Without any more human contact, she was happy to spend the day holed up in her room staring at the ceiling and becoming infuriated at the empty page on her desk.

The next morning, she chose to spend her time in the library. It was a beautiful room, large and grand, surrounded by shelves mounted into the walls and neatly decorated with a big wooden desk on one side, two couches and a coffee table in the middle, along with an armchair in the corner and a huge comfy rocking chair straying not too far from it- one which she currently resided in. The carpet was thick and a lovely ruby red, keeping the room warm with an enormous casement window sprawled out next to her. The library was at the back of the house so through the glass she could clearly see the hedges leading to the gardens, and the bushes that were neatly pruned, though at this time of year nothing really grew.

During summer the doors would open, and the warm breeze would rush in while the flowers bloomed outside. It was always a magnificent, scenic view with roses gradually losing their petals on the path and other blossoms springing to life around them. But currently there was only rain beating down against the glass like tears down a cheek, and a cosy view of the dying weeds drooping depressingly.

She had a book in her lap as her legs curled up to her, feet planted into the plush fabric of the seat, the drumming of the raindrops pattering continuously. It was warm inside and it was the homiest spot she could find in the whole manor.

The rattle of the page was the only other sound in the room as she started to turn it when the door burst open, and Mary came darting in. Charlie immediately raised her eyes from the book and looked to the maid, angling her knees lower for a better view.

She skipped over to her with a beam, taking an envelope out of her pocket and already reaching it out to her from halfway across the room, "A letter from your aunt came."

"Already?" Charlie creased her forehead, stretching out an arm and leaning out of her comfy seat to grasp it, "She must have sent this before I even left."

"That's sweet of her," she cooed, watching her tear it open and pull out the paper. "What does it say?"

Her pupils darted from this side and that, a smile tugging at her lips before she turned back to Mary, "Just her wishing me luck in my personal hell."

"There's no way she says that."

"No, but she implies it."

The maid shook her head with a grin threatening to spread when she asked, "What are you reading?"

"Ah just this book I haven't read for about five years."

"Romance?"

"Of course. Anything else is boring."

"Figured," she teased, glimpsing behind her to check that no one else was coming in, shuffling her weight uneasily.

Charlie studied her then asked, "Everything alright?"

Whirling her head to her, Mary took a moment to register the question then cheerfully brushed it off, "Oh yeah. I'm just making sure Clarice doesn't catch me slacking. She's in a bad mood today."

"Clarice is always in a bad mood," she grunted in response, leaning back and evening out the pages of the novel so that the words could be clearly seen.

"Hence why I don't want to get caught."

"How come she hasn't been laid off? She's a terrible housekeeper."