Ms Sanders is quite bossy

20 1 0
                                    

“No!” Ms Sanders practically screamed in outrage as I walked towards Target. “You are not shopping in that … common… place!” She trembled and spat out the word ‘common’ as if it were a bad word.

I felt a push behind me as she steered me towards a large, fancy looking shop in the opposite direction. It looked like the kind of place I would go in my dreams.

“Hello there? We require a lot of assistance over here!” Ms Sanders called out as she pushed open the double doors.

Two pretty assistants sauntered over, and looked at my attire in subtle dislike.

“Why I see what you mean!” Said the tall one, and I could see her sighing inwardly at her new task.

“It’s a fashion emergency!” The other one practically groaned, before dragging Ms Sanders over to the clothing aisle, and picking out many outfits in my size.

The tall assistant smiled at me sympathetically before taking my measurements, and then guided me into a changing room and gave me a pile of clothes from the other woman.

Looking down, I saw only bright skirts and tops or dresses, items of clothing I would not normally even go near as they are that short.

I sighed and tried on the first outfit, a pink skirt that is well above my knees and a top to match – low cut and skimpy I may add.

Walking out of the changing room I felt uncomfortable in this new style of clothing that was showing off more than it was covering. Surely they would not expect me to wear this to school?!?

“Great! You look… better! Much better dear!” Ms Sanders stated, apparently satisfied with the fact I was dressed that way.

I tried on numerous outfits after this, all with a similar style – skimpy and showing off my assets, or encrusted with jewels and pretty things like that, or sometimes both. They were accompanied by many “Hmm…. Yes!…” and “Turn around! … Perfect!… You look great hon.!” as I paraded things for what felt like hours. After what I swear was 100 outfits or more, and with my opinion not even existing, 25 outfits were picked out for me.

“Now, go put this one on and bring your other … clothes out afterwards.” Ms Sanders said.

I did, putting on a black short skirt with a white top and the accompanying jewellery that was bought, and came out –clothes in hand.

Ms Sanders snatched them from my hands and threw them down the garbage chute that was just outside the shop.

“Hey! That’s my clothes!” I protested.

“They WERE your clothes. Not any more. These are your clothes now. I am going to take all of your other … clothes … when we get back home too.” Ms Sanders smirked when she said ‘other clothes’, in a way that I could tell meant she did not like my fashion sense one jot.

Meekly, I go back to the limousine, climbing into the back of it fuming.

When we get back to the house, Ms Sanders took me straight to my room, and with the help of other servants that were in the vicinity grabbed all my old clothes from my beautiful purple wardrobe and threw them in the fire, slowly as she knew it irked me and that I could do nothing about it. Then she dragged me back to my room again and placed all my new clothes into the wardrobe.

There was a knock on my door.

“… Miss? I was told to come direct you to the dining room as tea is ready.” A timid voice came through the thick door.

“You had better go to tea. I will check you have not … misplaced any other items of clothing and deal with them appropriately while you eat.” Ms Sanders smirked as she said so.

I darted out of the door, following the dwindling figure of the maid as she hurried to direct me to the dining room so she could go back to her duties.

As I see she is just going in a straight line for a while, I take the time to look more at the house and remember where I am going. This place is like a maze!

I looked around at the walls, and at the exquisite tapestries with awe. They were amazing, and the style I liked as well, medieval tapestries hand sewn or cross stitched, lots of small things joining together to make a masterpiece.

She waits outside a huge set of double doors for me. “Here you are Miss, enjoy your meal.” She smiled as she said so before rushing off.

The doors creaked as I opened them slowly. Walking in the room I see a massive dining table dwarfing everything else in the room, with enough room to seat at least 50 people. It seemed like an awful waste of space to me, but I was not the designer so I guess I cannot comment. Candles light the middle of the table, giving off an effect of being transported back in time almost to a time where there was no electricity and you relied on candles for light.

As I sat down at the head of the table, a serving girl came out with a silver platter and a domed thing on top – like you see in movies for posh people eating. Then I realised I was now a posh person. It was going to take a while to get used to.

Silently she served me, whipping the lid off with a flourish and revealing a lamb roast – and not the cuts of meat that were stringy or fatty like I was used to, but the tender cuts of meat my step father normally took. Then there were the vegetables, peas and green beans and asparagus. And the best part – there was roast potatoes. I never usually got roast potatoes and yet they were my favourite thing in the whole world. The maid set down the steaming tray before curtseying and walking away – really these formalities were starting to annoy me. I frown in annoyance.

The maid notices my frown. “Oh miss, please don’t say I angered you, what can I do to remedy this, miss please don’t fire me!” She stuttered in fright.

“Well firstly, please do not call me miss. Just under a week ago I was in your place and it is annoying to be treated like royalty. Secondly, don’t act like a cornered rabbit and I the wolf! I feel bad when you do that. Thirdly, I don’t like being curtseyed at. I have not earned it, and I am not even full royal.”

“But miss if we do not Ms Sanders will report us to your father who will fire us!”

“Can we compromise then? When we are in public do all your silly formalities but if it is just a private occasion can you please not treat me like royalty? I don’t like it one bit.”

“I… I think I could do that … yes… M- Charlie.” She said, smiling shyly.

“Thank you! Please spread this around the servants who will listen too. It will please me to no end.” I smiled at her back to try reassure her I was not about to bite her head off.

“Of course M.. Charlie. Anything else while I am here?”

I smiled, seeing it would be hard to get out of the habit of formalities even though it had only had to occur for a few short hours so far.

“No thank you, I will be quite all right. I really hope you have a good night!”

She walked out of the room, understanding the subtle dismissal and hopefully going to spread the word of my dislike of private formalities.

I looked down at my plate in delight at the large portions and dug in.

After I had eaten as much as I possibly could, I thanked the servers and the cooks, and trudged up to my room – tired after such a long day. I collapsed on my bed in relief that the day was over – and what a day it was!

A new BeginningWhere stories live. Discover now