Beauty
I can’t remember very well what happened when I was ill. I only remember that when I was at my worst and I thought I was going to die I wanted someone there who cared for me. I wanted Hob. She says that I was never ill enough to die from it, only ill enough to worry her, but I really thought that I would die, and if I couldn’t have Mother, then I wanted Hob.
So I called to her, and she came. I suppose I had never really doubted that she would. She had always been there when I needed her – she was there when any of us needed her. And now I had brought her to be a prisoner with me here.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?” she asked, rather absent-mindedly. She was sat in the window, on the wide sill, much as she always sat on the window seat at home; curled up with her feet underneath her, staring out into the sky. I was still in bed, but wishing I could get up.
“Bringing you here,” I said.
“Oh, it’s not bad,” she said. I stared at her.
“Hob, we’re prisoners!” I said. “How can it be not bad?”
“We’re well treated, our every wish catered for,” she said. “And this place is amazing.”
“You’ve been exploring?” I asked, wishing I could remember more of what had happened while I was ill. How long had she been here?
“Oh yes. This floor and the one above. The floor below is the Great Hall and a ballroom, and then servants’ quarters and the kitchen. Below that are cellars and the armoury and dungeons – you’d hate them. There are the other wings but I haven’t visited them yet,” she said.
“Aren’t you afraid of meeting the beast?” I asked.
“No,” she said, and smiled in the annoying way that said she knew more than I. I decided to let her keep her secrets.
“So what’s on this floor?” I asked.
“Rooms, mostly like this,” she said. “I think they’re guest quarters. The second floor has a wonderful library, and studies. I was going to look in one of the towers next.”
“I want to look,” I said. “Hob, I feel much better now, and I want to get up and do something.”
She looked at me measuringly and nodded. “Alright, but not the tower today. I’ll show you the second floor.”
I threw back the covers, and if I didn’t bounce out of bed, I still did a good impression of someone who had completely recovered. I went over to the wardrobe and pulled open one of the doors when something occurred to me.
“Hob? Why don’t you wear something from here? We’re the same size,” I said.
“It’s alright,” she said. “I’m fine as I am.”
I gave her a look. Wearing the same shabby dress day in and day out, without shoes, did not seem fine to me, but arguing with her might make her send me back to bed, so I kept my mouth shut.
I put on the first clothes that came to hand; a deep blue velvet dress with cream lace, and blue beaded slippers. Better made than anything I had ever worn at home, and better fitting too. I held out the hairbrush to Hob and she came and brushed my hair and tied it back with a ribbon as she had when we were children.
“The beast!” I exclaimed as we reached the door to my room.
“We will not meet him,” Hob said, and we walked through. “Have you been keeping to your room all this time?” she asked.
