"That spiritualist! She's a fraud! I never met my mother, it was her retched sister, Emily." she burst into tears again.
Oh, Sarah! I should have told her when I found out.
"I have to bunk with you, Sarah." I mumbled. "Is that okay?" she nodded.
I set down my stuff and slept soundly.
It was six when Sarah awoken me. "Got to get up, Hetty, and set the oven for Mrs B!"
I went down and lit the fire, remembering how to do it from being taught. I made a cake and when Mrs Briskett came down at seven thirty, I had a slice and a cup of tea set and ready for her. She came up to me and gave me a large hug.
"Where's Rose-May?" she asked when sat down and eating her cake - having put the breakfast on and set the table and everything.
"In bed." I yawned. I really didn't want to talk about the girl who had stolen my Bertie's heart.
"Oh, Hetty." she wrapped an arm round me. "I'm so sorry. I know how much you love Bertie."
"Loved" I corrected, shivering in my work dress. "I think the breakfast is ready now, I'll go and set it out." I placed everything into their plates and carried them all to the dining hall, then went to get Mr Buchanan to take him down to breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr Buchanan!" I smiled as I stepped into his study. "Your breakfast is ready, and - as a cheeky something - I have gave you some cake. Made all by myself with my mama's secret recipe." He glowed when I mentioned the cake and followed me to the dining room.
I left while he ate, going back to the kitchen. Rose-May still wasn't up. I went and made another cup of tea for the three of us (Me, Sarah and Mrs Briskett) then got us each another slice of cake.
After a half hour I went to clear the table. He had left two bacon, an egg and some beans. I left them, instead of eating them this time. I was too pleased that he had liked my cake.
I was hoping to do a bit of darning after 12 (Which was when Rose-May finally emerged from the scullery), except I, again, dropped a pitcher of milk on the floor.
"Get scrubbing, Hetty!" Mrs Briskett was that Matron-y type now. "Milks the very devil when it spills!"
I imagined the flagstones were her face again, that worked last time. I was getting into it again, my bottom waggling in the air.
"I will say it again. That's a tempting sight." A loud, Cockney voice came from above me. I ignored him and continued. I heard the 'thud' as the meat basket was placed on the tabletop. He knelt down next to me. "Remember, Beautiful." I turned and slapped him, as he had the nerve to call me that when he was engaged.
"Whoa!" He held his hand to his cheek. It was as red as a beetroot. I stood up and pushed him outside, slapping his arms and his chest.
"WHY DID YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO CALL ME THAT?" I screamed in rage.
"Hetty, calm down!" he held up his bare arms - his shirt sleeves were rolled up.
"NO!" I cried. "Hey, Beautiful, come out here." I called inside, mimicking Bertie's voice.
Rose-May came out. I glared at Bertie. He hung his head. "IS THIS SOME KIND OF GAME TO YOU?! A JOKE?" I ran inside and locked myself in the pantry with a couple of candles and my memoirs.
I curled myself up and cried. I heard Mrs Briskett asking where the key was, so I slid it underneath the door. I squatted under one of the shelves, and blew out the candle, making myself unnoticeable. She came in, got what she wanted, left and relocked the door. I lit the candle again, and wrote in my memoirs.
There was a banging on the door, and Bertie's voice.
"Come on, Beautiful!"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT YOU FREAK! CALL YOUR FIANCE THAT!" I yelled through my wave of tears.
I heard some talking, and the exchange of something metal. I blew out the candle and shoved myself under the shelf again. The key twisted in the lock.
"Hetty?" he whispered, closing the door behind him. "Beautiful?"
Why don't you understand? I shouted in my head.
"Hetty, come on, they can't hear us." his footsteps paced the tiled floor. He stumbled over the candle and the box of matches.
I saw him pick them up, then light the candle.
He turned and saw me sniff, continuing to scribble horrible things about him.
Bertie the Butchers Boy screamed as his head grew in every direction. His left eye popped out of the socket, and he fumbled to put it back in...
That was as far as I got, as he was crouched next to me, reading over my shoulder. "Well, that's just lovely, isn't it?" he said sarcastically.
I looked up and saw his cute face; the brown hair falling into his eyes; the little turn up in his nose; the freckles that climbed from one cheek to another, crossing the bridge on his nose. His green eyes were dead, unlit. He looked truly unhappy.
I picked up my pen and crossed off the paragraph about him.
I sighed and looked him in his emerald eyes.
"I'm sorry, Bertie." I coughed. "It's just, all that seeing you and Rose-May and the news of you two...I...I..." I collapsed into myself.
He pulled me close to him and hugged me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms round his neck and whispered in his right ear, "I never stopped loving you."
He pulled me away, looked in my eyes and replied, "I never stopped loving you either." We smiled for a bit, when the door was yanked open.
It was her. She pulled Bertie up, and when I went to stand up she pushed me back down. She gave him a great, smacking kiss on the lips. He looked at me saddened. "sorry" he mouthed.
The door was shut. The lock clicked. He had my candle. It was cold, and dark. God knows what was in here with me. I lay down and made myself comfy. I fell asleep.
