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The Man with the Light; Just a short story I started...
Topic Started: Oct 15 2007, 03:54 AM (4,289 Views)
Idiot
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Eeeee! Also, don't eat your head, it's full of too many good ideas. Great stuff as ever, can't wait for the next one. :)
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Turnip05
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Thanks so much :wub:

Christmas soon for me and lots of things for Boxing day too when it comes, so although this isn't as long as the other pieces I felt I'd update what I've written so far :)



Winter was coming fast and Stanley could feel its chill already through his thin old coat as he walked steadily through the city streets, plodding onwards along cobble roads and listening to the cries of mothers calling playing children in for supper.
It had been a while since he’d been out and walked around the old neighbourhoods.

His feet took him along at a sturdy pace, and looking up he found himself outside the old Breuw Street corner shop, its windows plastered with news articles and job offers, the only pane free of glued paper out of reach above the shop door.
The recent Blue Willow Courier had been slapped on near to where he was standing, and stopping, he silently read through all the names of the people who had marked against him with stories and scandal, all familiar, all so well known…

It didn’t take him long to get to Dustin Lane, and for a while he just stared at his old home from the cul-de-sac entrance.
New children played in the streets, hopscotch, tag, and man hunt, children of former friends perhaps, or simply new families that had replaced the old. The houses looked the same with only a couple of door colours swapped, grey brick and grey slate roofs matching the dull grey sky.

A woman came out of her door and leaned on the fence post, watching the kids play with a tired look, brown hair that had once sat in plaits behind her red ears now draping across her shoulders.
Daniella Brooks, Stanley thought. She’d been one of those who’d pulled up the story about the priest for the Lansdale’s, the day he’d refused to take his cap off as the cleric went by, cursing instead and spitting on the man’s shoes, the result of a double-dare by bully Richard Stumpkins.
Back then he’d got a lot of respect from the rough neighbourhood kids, and a reputation to make Stumpkins green with envy. Now it was a disgrace, no longer just children at play in a poor area, looking for something exciting to do before they were called in for supper. No, now it was another shameful ‘secret’ about devil son Stanley Morris.

Suddenly, Daniella glanced up from the children and saw him across the way, blinking in disbelief and then looking away quickly, cheeks flooding red in embarrassment.
The shame was obvious, but somehow Stanley didn’t feel angry at her. He didn’t think he’d really felt angry at any of them when he’d read the article (well, Magda was an exception), it was hard keeping up a steady income living here, and if you were going to be given a couple of good half coin for your name and a word about the Morris boy, then it was a fair deal as far as you were concerned.

A young child gave a squeal as they were tagged, giggling breathlessly as they began chasing after the others, causing him to give a nostalgic smile, drawing him forward.
He came along the path where the blushing woman stood and nodded to her with a genuine smile.
‘Evening Daniella,’ he greeted.
‘Oh, um, evening,’ she replied fretfully, trying to avoid his eyes as she pulled back her hair.
‘Magda in?’
‘I-I wouldn’t know, she works late these days. Don‘t see her out much.’ She gave a nervous smile and turned her gaze to the children, her hands fumbling with the pocket of her apron. ‘I heard about, well, you know, the job, and such. I mean, it weren‘t meant to, well, y-you know…’ she trailed off in a stutter and her cheeks reddened again.
‘I’ve got the gardening,’ he said, ‘and I should be back in a couple of weeks, so it isn‘t that much of a problem.’
One of the kids tripped suddenly, falling to the ground but bouncing up almost immediately, barely even glancing at the graze across their scrawny knees.

‘Okay. See you around Danny,’ he said, feeling that making her even more embarrassed was just cruel, and beginning to walk off down the road.
‘Oh um, yeah. You too Stanley,’ she mumbled uncertainly, ‘a-and good luck with um…Magda.’
‘Right, thanks,’ he called back, watching her cheeks flush again.

Stanley grinned to himself as he followed the path down the Lane, trying not to laugh.
Miss Brooks had once been the most self-assured little madam on the streets, never flustered by any gross insults that were hurled her way, laughing in the face of threats, and a ‘look’ that made your stomach squirm.
Of course, they’d all changed, matured, ripened - whatever you wanted to say - but it still felt so odd to see the new additions to personalities and looks that had come around since all those years ago. He wondered if he had seemed different, looked different, or whether she had actually paid attention at all.
Either way, changes were obvious in the neighbourhood, and as his feet took him up to the hard stone steps of number 54 and his fist raised to knock on the door, he felt the plunge of his stomach and the beat of his heart increase as he prepared himself for the one person who he knew had never changed.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The door still sounded the same as he knocked, and hearing his sister call ‘just a minute,’ from inside he suddenly felt fourteen years old again, standing at the door after running away from that black kettle and his fathers cries, knowing life would change the instant that door opened. The hinges would squeak and Magda’s stocky, dark figure would lean over him, speaking those ever remembered words, ‘Well done little Stan, well done…’

But the door ‘clicked’ as it opened this time, and instead of having to look up to meet his sisters gaze, he found himself looking directly across to it.
With a slight smile he felt the fear ebb away at this new found discovery, and Magda herself seemed just as surprised - probably both at his sudden appearance and his height - and stood there blinking for a few moments before speaking.

‘Oh, bugger.’
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Turnip05
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I have an ending, I know where I'm going...I just don't know how to get there :lol:
Basically, I might be hitting writers block sometime soon and spend my days flailing in a sea of unlinked ideas instead of being able to update this like usual. Hopefully my mind shall not fail me, but I just wanted to warn incase I suddenly stop uploading :)

Next part, which is hopefully up to standards...I think the ending's possibly rushed...



The kettle started whistling as he stepped through the door, the floorboards creaking as they always had. The tough wooden stools still stood by the kitchen bench, the cupboards above painted that old ghastly green colour, and the only comfortable chair baking in front of the stove like it had for Father when he came in from work. Like always the hearth rug was mucky with soot and slops, festering in the heat of the fire and soaking up the wet of a pair of soggy old boots that had been dumped beside it.
Yes. This was home, and he could tell.

‘Wondered what it’d take to get you back here, Stan,’ Magda managed to say over the high screech of the boiling kettle, ‘Gotta be like…ten years? Barring the funerals.’
‘Nine, and stop being so polite.’
The woman snorted, ‘fine. What do’ya want? Come to give me a piece of your mind for makin’ you lose your job, eh? Or is this a nice, happy little family reunion.’
‘I wanted to know what you’re doing, I wanted to know why you told those Lansdale’s what you did.’ he shifted onto one of the stools at the bench and looked across at her as she poured a cup of tea for herself, ‘’cause I know for definite it wasn’t money you were after. Daniella said you worked late, so I guessed you‘re working out at the pub.’
‘Talkin’ to Danny, eh?’
His sister tossed back her thick dark curls and raised her equally thick eyebrows.

‘Sure. Went red as beetroot when I spoke to her though - you could tell her and the others were just scrounging when they pulled out all those tales for the Courier.’
‘O’ course. What else’d they want from markin’ you down in public? Money’s spare here little Stan, work ain’t quite as you know it - it’s not like your lovely world of high jobs and respect.’
‘Respect?’ Stanley smiled and tapped the sink, ‘That’s all down the drain now because of you. And anyway, I worked my way out of here - I deserve whatever respect I get.’
‘Yeah right, and it took a kettle and a maimed father to get you running. You ruined our lives - you deserve what those Lansdale’s did as well as your damn respect.’
Magda turned haughtily away with her tea and settled herself in the arm chair by the fire.

‘What about those packets I sent you all? Didn’t they mean anything?’
‘A few pound notes and a bit of change for a newspaper? Sure, it kept us goin’ until Mother found a place to work, but it wasn’t enough to amend everything you did. Father didn’t jump up suddenly and claim to be healed because you sent us money. Mother didn’t stop her pathetic crying when she couldn’t feed us properly and had to spend her days toiling in the baking factory to give us a chance. But then you ran off whilst you could and escaped all that, didn‘t you...’
‘Escaped? You think it would have been better if I’d stayed?’
Stanley watched as his sister pulled a face.
‘I got away because I wouldn’t have helped matters - even before that I never got on with any of you. So I got an apprenticeship with Mr. Hopkin and sent as much money as I could each week to try and show I at least cared. I didn’t want it all to happen, and I was sorry. I still am, Magda.’
But she just shook her head. ‘Ain’t enough for me, Stan. It ain’t enough for them either, I bet.’

‘Them? Mother, Father?’ Stanley threw up his hands and turned round on the stool to face her, ‘they died Magda, and stop acting as if it was me that killed them. I don’t understand your whole revenge theory here, but I understand that our family was going bad - perhaps already rotten at the core when I picked up that bloody kettle. Mother and Father hated one another - anyone in the Lane could tell you that. They argued day and night about everything and anything - heaven knows how we came about. Father worked, came home, shouted at Mother, she cried, he went to bed, she made us supper. The same routine every single day. They weren’t happy and everyone could tell.
And me? I was a complete brat, the devil son, the waste - the Morris child that wouldn’t put his fists down and drove his parents and sister round the bend. We all know that…’

Suddenly Stanley got up from the stool, sighing as he continued.

‘But you? Nobody had anything to say about you Magda - and I guess that was the problem. The daughter was never seen, never out playing with the others, never seen out at the shops or doing chores in the garden. Only the boy and the mother were seen doing that.
No, you just didn’t seem to change as you grew, you always sat moodily in your corner at home, darning clothes or tending to the fire with a few bitter words ready to fire at me when I came through the door from the streets. And sometimes…well, sometimes…I…well…‘
He stopped.

‘What?’ Magda faced him properly from the cushioned chair and frowned.
Suddenly, his lips curved slightly into a strange sort of smile, and with a mixture of horror and bemusement she watched as her brother began to…laugh

Small, short chuckles came first, sputtering laughs that seemed somewhat hesitant, yet soon, as she watched, they all rolled into one big, alarming burst of hilarity.
It was an unusually loud laugh for him, and as Magda stared in bewilderment at her brother, Stanley shook his head and clasped his hands on the back of her chair.

‘Listen to me Magda! Ranting on, dramatic and bold.’
‘S-Stanley?! What are you-’
‘You know, I only came here to stop myself worrying about Penny, yet forgetting about her hasn‘t done me any good,’ he cried, ‘Not at all! Look at me, spewing utter rubbish. The past doesn’t matter Magda! That’s what that young girl taught me, that little street urchin with a grin to make you chuckle.’
He suddenly laughed again and spun away, pacing around the house almost crazily. Magda got up then, but could only stand there in confusion, suddenly not knowing what to do.
‘Stanley-’
‘It’s the present that matters here Magda,’ he stated, turning round to face her, ‘not the past. It’s the future we should be discussing, not what’s been and gone and can’t be changed...’
Stanley stopped and lowered his hands, still smiling.

‘You know what? I think I’m going to send Penny along to you one day, I’m going to make you meet the girl who makes me smile and worry like nothing before, and I’ll send a pay packet too, ‘cause you need to get out of here Magda.’
‘Stan, you’re actually scarin’ me a little-’
‘You hate change, don’t you?’ he continued unawares, ‘But in the end, you‘ve got to get away from here. Look at you, sitting in a mouldy old house, unmarried, badly paid and stuck in the misery of memory. I’ll get you out of here Magda, just you see!’
Before she could speak or even move a toe Stanley was trundling along to the door.

‘A pay-packet a week - and you better keep it safe Magda, cause I doubt I’ll be doing this again any time soon.’
And with that the door knocked shut behind him and she was left to stand there in the middle of the room, dazed and destined for dizziness…

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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
:o
I love it! love it love it love it! is it single? ;) lol. utterly awesomely amazing. :D
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Turnip05
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*blushes so much*

Thankies Woo - you made my day :D

*glee*

Anyway, I had much fun writing the next bit :bing:



‘Any of you blethers got a thing against Mr. Morris?’ Gloria called into the mess of the kitchen, hands still deftly chopping a giant turnip as she shouted out into the thick cloud of steam.
Heads turned towards her, catching her eye and shaking their heads whilst loud conversations started up almost immediately amongst the rest of the staff, random words filtering through the noise so Penny could only catch mere glimpses of the sudden banter.

‘-here, wasn’t he that man who did all that stuff-’
‘-it’s those Lansdale’s again, I tell you we‘ve had enough of-’
‘-well he always seemed alright whenever I-’
‘-him? Come on, what about that article-’
‘-didn’t cause me any harm, so I think-’
‘-I seen him once down at the old butchers in-’
‘-oh, shut up Dorris-’

She frowned at the general confusion and wondered how on earth this was helping them when Gloria swiftly turned round with a great grin on her face, her hands still flying around the bench with knives and bowls as she spoke to the young girl cheerfully.
‘Most of them are on Stanley’s side, so it won’t take long until they’ve all convinced themselves it’s those Lansdale’s that need a good beating,’ she chuckled, ‘they’re right gossipers my lovely cooks and no doubt you’ll have a delightful army ready to fight for him in no time.’
‘For tomorrow will be fine,’ Penny said, grinning back.

Suddenly she heard someone call her name and they both turned to see the scrubber lads - or at least one of them - turned away from their industrial sink of soap and dishes and coming over, grubby sponge still in hand.
‘Hey! I told you to clear off and leave Pen-’
‘N-no, wait. That’s not what I want,’ the skinny teenager said looking a little embarrassed, ‘I ain’t teasin’ her today, I just want to know why you’re askin’ this stuff about Mr. Morris.’
The boy bit his lip and blushed as Penny laughed.
‘We want him back o’ course! It ain’t fair that the manager fired him ‘cause of a few words in an article, so we‘re gettin’ everyone on his side to help us do so.’

‘But he’s barely been gone one night.’ came another voice from behind the scrubber lad.
‘Thought you said you didn’t care Vince,’ the boy said turning round to face his friend, scowling.
‘Well, maybe I do now Gordon,’ Vince replied moodily, appearing from amongst the cloud of steam by the washing tub with a grumpy frown on his face, ‘your master was just one, simple candle lighter, even if he was good at his job.’

‘Well Stanley isn’t the only one who’s had problems with those Lansdale’s,’ Gloria said in annoyance, ‘Alfie very nearly got fired after they spread about some very nasty rumours last year. And do you remember little Jenny? Oh wait, of course you wouldn’t - before your time. But anyway, there’s plenty people other than Stan who’ve been messed around, like Carol, but not very many people knew her, bless the darling. They dredged up some muck about her poor husband and it set the manager off like a rocket. There was news about it for weeks. Another to go was old Johnny Tonkin‘s-’
‘-thought he quit himself?’ Vince interrupted.
‘Aye, on order of the Manager though. I know ’cause I was there,’ she added as the boy opened his mouth to argue again, ‘most people won’t just be helping Stanley ‘cause it’s him, they’ll be helping ‘cause all this palaver’s been going on for far to long, and both the manager and these Lansdale’s need a good talkin’ to!’

She turned to the bench for a few moments to dump a pile of carrots in the sieve and looked back as she started on the onions.
‘He’s so uppity - the manager that is - that he’ll chuck anyone out at the slightest mention of a fault in case it damages the Hall’s oh-so-precious reputation.’

‘So if you all go up to him and start talkin’ down to him, that means he’s gonna kick you all out of a job! It’s just stupid,’ Vince grunted, throwing up his chubby arms.
‘No it ain’t, you idiot, ‘cause if he does that he’ll lose half his staff,’ Gordon retorted, throwing up his own arms, although they were certainly skinnier.
‘Well I’m doin’ it for Stanley whatever you lugs say,’ Penny said, ‘an’ I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or what.’
‘Hey! I didn’t say it was stupid!’ Gordon cried, ‘I was just askin’ what-’
‘-Oh, shut up boys before this goes any further, and get back to work,’ Gloria sighed, shooing them away with the vegetable knife.
They obeyed reluctantly with a lazy ‘yes miss‘, and were still bickering with each other as they started back to the pile of cutlery in the scrubbing tub.

The woman shook her head and gave Penny a weary smile.
‘Gordon’s alright, and he does the job without much complaint I guess, but by the hairs on this onion I swear Vince’s one handful and half! Stubborn as rot and such a rude manner too!’
Suddenly Gloria gave a little yelp as she nicked her finger on the knife blade and blinked in shock at the cut.
‘See what state they put me in!’ she muttered, opening up a wall cupboard near the double kitchen doors and bringing out the bandage box.
‘It’s just a little cut Gloria,’ Penny said as she watched the cook cover the simple slit of flesh with a little brown plaster.
‘Oh, my dear,’ she chuckled, ‘this is just for health and safety. Can’t have blood in people’s food!’
The bandage box was tucked neatly back on its shelf quicker than it had been taken out, and Gloria trundled back to her bench, all bubbly and bright again in an instant.
‘I’m not bothered about a tiny nip like that, don’t you worry. I’m not so silly...’

The cook remained amused as Penny turned away, laughing quietly as she got back to her work, chopping up a new horde of vegetables that had been delivered to her bench in the short moments she‘d been at the cupboard.
The young girl gave her own chuckle and wandered away from the bustling lady happily, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

Francis and Maisy should be back soon, she thought with a smile, then we’ll really see if this’ll all work together properly…



‘Do you…think this is all going to work out?’ Francis said in his usual careful voice as he and Maisy walked their way along to the entrance hall steadily, the steward taking the lead.
‘Y-you mean P-Penny’s little plan?’ the red haired woman stuttered, turning to face the oddly pale artist who had been silently following up until now.
‘Yes. I worry that she will be disappointed if this goes…wrong.’
‘W-well the people we’ve seen a-are c-certainly prepared to vouch for Stanley back, and I g-guess some will simply want to s-stop those Lansdale’s from getting away with another person g-getting fired again.’
The young man nodded. ‘The big man who helped with the stepladders. Alfie. He said he’d had trouble with them before.’
‘Well, we d-don’t really t-talk about that anymore, but yes, there w-was a lot of fuss about him in the C-Courier and w-with the manager. Many people got angry about that and we at l-least managed to get his job back, b-but a lot of people still look at him with a hint of mistrust…’

She stopped as they entered the foyer. A couple of stewards who were standing ready to guide customers to the correct hall for their evening meeting or entertainment gave her an odd look - probably because of Francis - but most likely because news travels fast in the Renwick Banquet Halls, and no doubt the fact that she’d been going round with Penny had caused a stir amongst the others.
She ignored them as much as she could.

‘Is this the book Penny was talking about?’
Francis had wandered over to the large leather-bound register, and was slowly turning the pages as he read.
‘Oh, yes. L-look for tomorrow’s details near th-the front, that’s what we need…’ She leaned over his shoulder and was about to scan through the handwritten text herself when she suddenly felt a cold hand touch her back.
Quickly, she turned, and found herself looking straight across at one of her fellow workmates, their raised eyebrow and general expression certainly not boosting her confidence in the matter.

‘Is there a problem, Maisy?’ the woman inquired, a sharp edge to her voice that suggested that there definably was a problem as far as she was concerned.
‘O-Opal, hello,’ Maisy stuttered, ‘W-we’re just c-checking the register for tomorrows events. A-another staff member was inquiring, y-you see-’
‘-yes, yes, I see that,’ Opal muttered irritably, rolling her eyes and walking round to Francis who was still reading the register, ‘but who, I mean to ask, are you. I do not believe you are regular staff, and if you are you better smarten up!‘

Francis turned his head towards the obnoxious female slowly, and gave her a wide closed smile. This seemed to unnerve her a little and she took a step back from him as he began to speak.
‘Indeed. I am not a member of staff. I am here to ensure Penny is alright, and can get home safely.’
Then he straightened up from his bowed position over the register and turned to Maisy.
‘Yes. The Barson Winter Ball takes place tomorrow. Penny was right.’
‘O-oh, that’s good. She’ll b-be pleased about that,’ Maisy claimed happily.

Opal coughed. They both turned.

‘Excuse me, but does the manager know that he is on the premises? He should, you know,’ the woman said haughtily, ‘and the Penny girl. She should have been fired along with Stanley, surely?’
‘No. I said this to Maisy when she asked. I believe Penny is required to do the job. She is one of few who can do the job properly, and properly she has done it.’
The woman snorted and was about to reply when someone called out.

‘Listen to the man, Opal!’ came the voice, male but quite high-pitched as if constantly strained, ‘leave the kid alone! You been goin’ on all night. You’re such a suck up to the manager, you little squid!’
The man laughed at himself as he came over and brought his arm around Opal’s shoulders, smiling cheekily and showing a lot of yellow teeth. The woman did nothing, but her face squirmed up at his touch.

‘I am not a suck up, you ignorant fool, I merely do my job as I should and respect the manager as my boss. Unlike you, you disgraceful lot!’
And with that she slipped away from the man’s grip swiftly and trotted away back to her post by the entrance.
‘Sheesh, some people,’ the steward grinned, running a hand through his short, stubbly hair, ‘but don’t mind her Maisy, I’ll not let her spoil the plans for tomorrow.’
Maisy blinked.
‘Y-you know about that?! B-but only the c-cooks and some waiters have been told,’ she suddenly cried in worry.
‘Yeah, but I heard the little girl talkin’ to Gloria when I came off my break. Not meanin’ to eavesdrop like, but it all sounds good. I’ll be there!’
‘O-oh, thank you. Y-you wouldn’t mind getting a few others to co-’
‘-no problem, Maisy! Leave it to me, I’ll get it sorted. I’m the Guy!’ he said, giving a thumbs up before hurriedly getting back to his post as a customer came through the door.

‘You have some very…strange people in your line of work,’ Francis stated.
‘Hmm, t-they’re definably all characters. T-that was Guy, h-hence the phrase.’
‘ “I’m your Guy?” ‘
The artist smiled with his teeth for once and gave what sounded like a hiccup. Maisy guessed it was his way of laughing and smiled.

‘Anyways. We b-better head back now,’ she said, turning back to the corridors.
‘Penny’ll be w-waiting…’

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Turnip05
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Gah, I need sleep - these french tests, maths mock exams, and science modules I'm doing at the moment are taking their toll :yfok:

The next part, finally done (and hopefully up to scratch) :)


When they got back to the kitchens Penny was sitting out of the way of the bustle on a stool and brushing off some sort of mushy substance from her trousers with a damp cloth, the point of her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in concentration. The mark looked green, and Maisy could only presume it had once been peas, and if not, it had to be some other green, squashy vegetable. It just had that organic look about it.

The girl looked up with a smile and waved to them as they came in.
‘Was I right?’ she asked straight away, dumping the cloth on the bench behind her and sliding off the stool.
‘Yes. Tommorrow, the Barson Winter Ball takes place,’ Francis said, coming over quietly and picking up her cap that was sitting on the bench, gently frowning at another green stain that had somehow been procured whilst they were away.
‘Great! That’s perfect. Now we’ve just got to pray an’ hope everythin’ else’ll just fall into place.’
She grinned happily and clapped her hands, ‘The Lansdale’s are sure to show up - they write about the Ball every year for that Courier.’

‘Ah, Penny?’
She turned to Francis.
‘Huh?’
‘Why are there such…green marks on your clothes?’
‘Yes, th-they l-look like peas,’ Maisy stressed, taking the cap from Francis’ hands and rubbing the mysterious mark.
Penny laughed, ‘they are. Vince and Gordon decided girls shouldn’t wear boy’s clothes, and since they didna dare say anythin’ in front o’ Gloria they got me when I went out. Course I used my cap to protect my face when they chucked a bowl of mushy old peas at me, and the rest fell on me trousers and the floor.’
‘T-they chucked peas a-at you?!’ Maisy exclaimed in horror.
The girl shrugged, ‘it’s just peas, and it was only a small bowl. It ain’t that big a deal.’
‘D-didn’t Gloria still f-find out though? I-it’s quite clear they d-did something to you.’
‘Hah, course she did. They’re just stupid mutts. And anyways, I told them it were practical to wear trousers - or did they want to keep looking up me skirt when I did the lights?’ she laughed, ‘you shoulda seen Gordon’s face - beetroot!’

‘Were Vince and Gordon the two boys we saw outside? Scrubbing the floor?’ Francis questioned, taking the cap from Maisy’s open hands and putting it back on the bench carefully, balancing it expertly on the edge so it didn’t disturb the shiny pile of cutlery, but didn’t fall off either.
‘Yeah, one of the other cooks saw the mess and chucked a pair of scrubbin’ brushes and a bucket at them. Won’t do any good for the customers to come along and see a dirty great mess o’ green mush on the floor, eh?’
The young girl laughed again and then nodded to Maisy.

‘Thanks for the help tonight Maisy. It’s nice to see one o’ you stewards didn’t need convincin’ into this.’
‘J-just glad to b-be able to help someone like Stanley,’ she stuttered, blushing a little, ‘I-I’ll be there t-tomorrow as well.’
‘Good,’ Penny grinned, picking her cap up from it’s perfect balance on the bench and nodding, ‘we’ll see you there then.’

She turned and patted Francis on the arm, pulling him out of his little trance with the wall tiles, and steered him to the double kitchen doors with a quick farewell wave over her shoulder to the steward.
Maisy waved back and watched until they’d gone through out into the corridor, the two doors swinging shut loudly behind them.

‘Fun girl ain’t she, that Penny,’ commented one of the friendly cooks to her side brightly, carrying a huge tray of toasted buns and cheese that nearly hid the whole of his face, ‘you can’t help wonder what keeps her so cheerful, never mind stay such hope for Stanley.’

‘Y-yes,’ Maisy smiled, almost to herself, ‘she’s j-just got that…spark of energy in her, h-hasn‘t she…’



Mrs. Gladys watched in bemusement as Stanley tipped out his savings pot onto the kitchen table, paper and coin money scattering across the rough wooden surface in a swish and clatter, causing the now seemingly half-adopted cat to jump awake from its usual little snooze by the stove in annoyance.
Whatever had excited - or maybe even spooked Stanley, may be slightly alarming, but it had at least stopped him worrying about Penny and Francis at the Halls. He hadn’t even noticed they were late home by about half an hour.

‘You don’t have any spare envelopes I could use do you Mrs. Gladys?’ he asked eagerly as he began separating the money into little piles to count.
‘Oh er, I don’t think so my little pumpkin, but I can have a look,’ she answered cautiously. ‘Why?’
The young man laughed and gave her a grin, ‘my dear sister needs to get herself clear of the old home and street, and I’m helping her do it.’
‘Your sister? But didn’t she say all those things-’

She stopped as he suddenly shook his head and threw up his hands frantically.
‘I’m having none of that anymore - she’s my sister, and as much as we hate one another it isn’t doing either of us any good having her stuck in the past and miserable. We’re starting afresh, anew, and the first thing I’m going to do is give her plenty of savings and a good dowry. Then she might have a chance of getting married at least…’
He scooped up a pile of crinkled five-pound notes and straightened them out neatly with a smile.

‘What about you then?’ Mrs. Gladys inquired as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers for envelopes, ‘you should be thinkin’ about marriage yourself at a nice young age of twenty-three - start savin‘ for a decent house and bed, eh?’
Stanley looked up in shock. ‘What?’
The woman turned and laughed at his expression, shaking her head, ‘I’ll take that as a ‘no’ my pumpkin. Just wondering if you were contemplating courtin’ yourself - you’ve certainly got plenty of money to provide a family there,’ she added, nodding to the pile of paper and coin.
‘I’m more bothered about my job, to be frank,’ he murmured, feeling his cheeks go red.

But she was right, there was a lot of money. Probably enough to keep him going for half a year without problems, and most of it was from recent gardening jobs too. He could indeed buy a small apartment at this rate…

There was a sudden clatter as the door was opened nosily, and Penny’s voice could be heard chattering away to Francis relentlessly along with the rustle of coats being hung on the stand. She eventually came through to the kitchen with a beaming grin on her face and cheeks rosy with cold, Francis trailing along after her.

‘All’s well Stanley,’ she claimed brightly, ‘just one night away and those Lansdale’s ’ill be sorted - even the stewards are gonna fight against the Manager. Apparently this stuff’s happened before and they’re all finally taking a risin’.’
‘Really?’ Stanley said in shock, ‘although I guess it’s almost common for people to get fired over little faults,’ he added.
‘Yeah. An’ we met a really nice lady named Maisy too,’ Penny continued, walking over to Greywacke and bending down to rub behind his ears the way he liked it, ‘she’s a steward, bit mousy and timid, but she certainly knows what she thinks about all this - gave us a little rant when she was helpin’ us out with the corridors, didn’t she Francis? Oh wait - you were romanticizin’ about wallpaper weren’t you? Never mind…’
She got up and let out a giggle as the cat ran though her legs and out into the hallway.

‘So everything went okay?’
Francis nodded. ‘I doubted what difference we would make, but many are keen. You are lucky to know such people.’
Stanley smiled and blushed, ‘I didn’t think anybody would care - they never cared about me before.’
‘Course people care! And lots o’ people want payback for others as well,’ Penny said, ‘Gloria told us.’
Stanley frowned and shuffled in his seat, ‘And they‘re really gonna help?’

The young girl sighed at his look of disbelief and walked round to his chair, leaning across the back to scrub his messy blonde hair with her knuckles. ‘Yes! An’ don’t you worry - everythin’ll work out in the end.
Just trust me...’


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Idiot
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Oh noooo, something's going to go wrong, isn't it? I can just tell.... :worry:
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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
ah! I could say I dont want it to go wrong, but I want the story to work! but... ah! its a fantastic story, if it has to go wrong to keep it that way I guess thats just what happens. And I can sympathize about exams, I have all my mocks for GCSE's this week and next, I had a 5 hour art exam on monday, first day back after christmas and I spent it in a freezing cold art room, in silence with nothing but the sound of the kiln (that didnt make the room warmer at all) and the knowlage that the girl next to me was ten times better and had done three times the amount of prep as me. today I had higher tier maths, and that was a suprise. Im crap at maths. <end of rant>

all is well now. ^_^ all is calm.
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Turnip05
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Idiot: Who knows, who knows...perhaps it shall :ph43r:

Woo: 5 hours of exam in one day :gasp: Hope it all went well!

Thank you both of you! You always give me confidence :D
Next part - which is probably the longest yet...



The Grand Hall was full of the bustle of dancing, the quartet at the far side of the room gently playing out a waltz and guiding the footsteps of the finely dressed couples. The men predominantly wore dark tailored dinner suits, the youngest of them managing to get away with a lose shirt and waistcoat, whilst the women were a rainbow of remarkable gowns, varying from the deepest shades of mountain purple, to the lightest tones of cream.

By one of the large, heavy doors Penny stood peering around for the two Lansdale’s amongst the mess of well-groomed individuals, nervously aware that she stood far out of place in her murky brown cap and breeches. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of navy blue to her left and her hopes rose.
There, sitting by one of the oval shaped dining tables was the unmistakable figure of Tetra Lansdale, her glossy dark hair pinned up with an extravagantly floral hairpiece, and long navy blue dress flowing all the way down to the ground gracefully. There was no sign of Donald, but that didn’t matter, he’d come soon enough no doubt.

Silently, Penny crept around dancing couples and tables full of the traditional bite size munchies, taking a few as she went by since one - she was hungry, and two - it was hard to break the habit. You took free food when you could get it as far as she was concerned.

Eventually, having swallowed down a couple of tiny fish pastries, she reached Tetra’s empty table, and with a gentle tap on the woman’s bare shoulder waited until she’d turned around.

‘I’m real sorry to bother you Mrs. Lansdale,’ she said as sheepishly as she could, taking off her cap and blushing, ‘and I know this sounds weird, but there‘s somethin‘ goin‘ on in the Halls, and since I heard you were here tonight and you always seem to know how to uncover stuff and whatnot, I thought…well I thought you could maybe help me.‘

The woman blinked in surprise at the girl’s sudden appearance, but shook herself swiftly with a bemused smile and turned her full attention to Penny, knowing a story when she heard one.
‘Why yes, of course little Penny - I’d be delighted!’
‘Great! You see, there’s some real odd stuff I’ve been hearin’ and seein’ around the place, an’ lately the staff have been real secretive and gossipin', but I know you could help me, since you Lansdale’s are the smartest people I know.’

‘Oh! Truly Penny?’ the woman said eagerly, wide eyed, ‘I thought you’d be a little reluctant since - and I’m so sorry it happened - Stanley got fired. Obviously the Manager was smart enough to keep you I see, but-’
‘-Oh, oh no. Everythin’ with Stanley needed to be told,’ Penny exclaimed, doing her own impression of Tetra’s wide eyes, ‘it explains a lot!’
‘Well, I’m very glad it’s alright with you little Penny, you do provide us with a bundle of stories, don’t you?’
Tetra chuckled, and in the shortest of moments her lipsticked smile was edging across her face into that cat-like grin and her gloved hands were clapping in anticipation.
‘I shall see my husband - you just wait here!’

Penny watched as the woman tottered along to her husband nearby, who was talking animatedly to an old, refined looking man, and whispered in his ear eagerly. Donald frowned a little and glanced over to where Penny stood by the table nervously, obviously remembering how she had acted when he’d met her in the street.
He won’t trust me after that, she thought worriedly, biting her lip, but his wife seems to, so maybe things will even out.

Whatever he thought, he sighed and came over, dragged along by an excited Tetra who nodded to the young girl with the grin still spread across her face.
‘Is there somewhere more…private perhaps?’ she asked, clinging to her husbands matching navy blue outfit as if she thought he‘d run away.
‘Sure! Follow me…’

She guided them out of the hall brightly and into the corridor, making a show of glancing around for a steward as they walked across the plush red carpet.
‘’scuse me!’ she called out as one came walking towards them from the kitchens, ‘is there an unused room we could have a talk in - I mean privately.’

‘Oh, of c-course. J-just follow me,’ Maisy said cheerfully, her short red hair bobbing as she nodded to them.

The procession continued on without delay as was planned, Maisy politely ’finding’ them a room that was not being used by any of the other customers, and letting them take themselves in through the door, smiling innocently.
There was a pause before the tell-tale signal of Tetra’s squeal let her know to eventually rush inside herself, and closing the door quickly behind her, pressed her body against it so they couldn’t escape.

‘What is the meaning of this!’ Donald cried furiously, his once pale face flooded crimson as he stared at the horde of staff gathered around him, ranging from the little sneaky waiter George, to the giant, looming figure of Alfie.
‘Surely you can figure it out?’ said Penny from behind them.
‘How dare you trick us!’ he exclaimed, turning around swiftly, his wife cowering timidly beside him as he shouted out.

‘Be quiet, yer’ll disturb the guests,’ Alfie growled, stepping forward from the mass and causing Tetra to give out another squeal.

‘We were just doing our job!’ she blubbered hysterically, ‘you can’t do anything to us! It’s not our fault all those people got fired and slandered, it’s your manager! We we’re just telling the truth to the city! It’s our job!’
‘Just hush, darling, ’ her husband said quickly, taking her by the hands in an attempt to calm her down.
But she couldn’t be so easily quietened.

‘I was so sorry for your wife Alfie! I really was, but, oh! The story was too good, don’t you see?’ she cried, stumbling forward from Donald’s grasp, ‘it’s all I can do to write those articles, all those juicy rumours and gossip starters, oh so much name blackening! It’s all I can hope for you see? What else can I live for but the curdling of story and scandal, whether it takes away a job or not?!’

She giggled and almost fell over from her apparent fright, or even madness, Donald taking her firmly by the arms and shushing her, but having no effect. She turned away from her husband and stared right at Penny.
‘Everyone has an obsession, an un-healthy wanting - well welcome to mine!’

She laughed again but Donald shook her suddenly and finally shut her up, the startled woman biting her lip and burying herself in his shoulder, hiding herself from the shocked faces of the staff.
‘See what you do to her,’ he hissed at them, ‘you’re not the only one’s to try this - oh no! We can still write our words, and all this will only give us a reason for revenge.’

‘Please, Mr. Lansdale, we‘re not here to beat you up - we just wanna deal,’ Penny assured him, hands on hips, ‘there was no intention of…upsettin’ your wife.’
The man scowled.
‘You need the Renwick Banquet Halls for a lot of our important events don’t you Mr. Lansdale? Like tonight at the Barson Winter ball, yeah?’ she continued.
Donald said nothing, but his moustache gave a little twitch.

‘The Annual Merchant Guild meeting holds plenty of scandalous information for you to gorge yourself on, doesn’t it sir?’ Gloria said knowingly, pushing out from the crowd, ‘enough economic rivalry to keep you in the good books with your boss for practically a whole month, eh?’

‘A-and, the famous Finchly Feast h-has got it’s merits too I’m sure,’ claimed Maisy as she came away from the door, knowing they wouldn’t be able to escape with all these people around anyway.

Penny smiled at the others and turned to Donald again, ‘We’ll let you come here for all the Hall events you want,’ she told him firmly, ‘but anymore nonsense about us staff - one little tiny insult on the end of a story - and we’ll make sure you can never access this buildin’ again, or any of its events.’

Donald blinked.
‘T-that’s a lot of gossip to risk, darling,’ Tetra said frantically, grabbing hold of his tailored jacket by both hands desperately, ‘oh, so much gossip, too much to lose, darling, too much to lose…’

But the decision never got it’s chance to be made, and from the now unguarded door came the loud shriek of the word ‘STOP!’

Heads turned in shock, and all could clearly see the smug looking face of steward Opal, walking in proudly, head held high.
‘The Manager would like a word my fellow workers,’ she said, bitter smile widening, ‘I took it as my rightful duty to inform him of your shameful schemes before this got any worse.’

And indeed, along came the Manager, every heavy footstep a marker of dread, his face bright red with fury and face set in a terrifying scowl that even caused a few to back away against the panelled walls.

‘To plan assault against a customer - whether verbal or physical!’ the old man bellowed, stepping towards the circle of staff crossly, ‘to use your work breaks for such disreputable behaviour! Whether these people have caused us problems or not, tonight, and here in this place of splendour and value, you shall not, I repeat, shall not take action against a customer!’
The Lansdale’s clung to each other, bewildered by the man’s rage.

‘Penny Dowen!’ the man cried, stepping across to her angrily and leaning down to face her eye to eye, ‘you were asked to leave along with your master, Mr. Morris!’
Penny bit her tongue and stared back at the Manager's harsh glare nervously.
‘I see you are somewhat stubborn to do your job, therefore I see it as smart to keep you on until Stanley is allowed to return - but! Any more funny business young girl, and you’re out!’

He straightened up, and then faced the rest of the staff, clearing his throat before speaking somewhat more quietly.
‘I’m not stupid enough to fire so many of my efficient workers, but I shall give each and every one of you a warning - and only one! If any plan like this is ever even mentioned, never mind carried out within the walls of the Renwick Banquet Halls - I shall personally take action to make sure that that person, or perhaps a whole group if it happens, suffers the dire consequences!’

He stopped and took a deep breath slowly, calming himself to a lighter shade of pink, and then gave the astounded Lansdale’s an apologetic smile, motioning for Opal to come to his side. She obeyed dutifully.
‘You shall take these two fine persons back to their ball and ensure their evening is not disturbed again, understood steward?’ Penny heard him say quietly to Opal.
The woman nodded and gently took the shaking Lansdale’s away across the room easily, patting the frightfully extra pale Tetra on the shoulder and smirking at the rest of the staff as she went by.
The door closed with a ‘clack’ and the Manager turned back to them, his voice now level and calm.

‘I can only guess this has been caused by the recent article on Mr. Morris in the Courier published only a few days ago and the fact that he was fired - but I assure you, it is only a temporary loss,’ the Manager said steadily, ‘His past self may shock many and tarnish the edges of the Halls, but he is a respectable man at heart and will be returning in a couple of weeks, when no doubt other news will have erased the marks.’

He gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.
‘I am quite disappointed, and will be glad when things have got back to normal again...goodnight…’

And with that he took his leave, shortly followed by a few staff members who silently looked at their watches in the awkward space and murmured under their breath about breaks finishing, trying not to look each other in the eye as they walked by one another quietly.

Eventually, only Penny and Alfie remained, the young girl having never moved a muscle since the Lansdale’s had left, still staring at her feet.

‘Am afraid that’s the way it goes, li’l one,’ Alfie spoke softly, patting her on the shoulder with a large, but comforting hand, ‘but a’ least you ‘ad the courage tuh try…not many can claim tuh that…’



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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
:o
poor Penny! that Opal is a bitch. wonderfull story, but I hope it all works out in the end. :worry:
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Turnip05
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Don't worry, I'm aiming for a happy ending, so yes! It'll work out somehow :D

Thanks to all who keep reading and keep me going!

Next part! (a little short, but...meh :P )



The chalk washed away eventually, and watching in careful fascination Francis followed the streaks of white with his eyes as they ran off into a nearby drain. The small lump in his hands was barely useable now, and he chucked it away into the night as he stood up from the pavement.

Penny was taking longer than he had thought, but he had promised Stanley he’d walk her home. Whilst waiting he had been drawing on the paving slabs with a spare piece of chalk he’d found in one of his trouser pockets to keep his mind occupied, but now the chalk was gone and the ground too wet, he could do nought but be patient.

‘Nice drawin’ you ‘ad there mister,’ came a voice from beside him, and looking up he saw a young boy about Penny’s age with dark, filthy beaded hair and sodden, dirty rags that covered an unhealthily scrawny body. He was staring down at the streaks of chalk, his hands hidden beneath a heavy looking wrap to most likely keep out the night cold. The boy stank of sweat and street muck too, but Francis didn’t have much sense of smell and the rain would have dimmed his senses anyway.

‘Thank you.’
‘Hey, no problem mister. You got’ny change?’
The boy looked hopeful, but at the same time, he had that look in his eyes that said, Don’t worry, I‘m not expecting much.

Francis searched his pockets and found an old, crinkled pound note. He wouldn’t be needing it for anything. His new painting and collage collection on interior decorating was raking in the money at the moment.

‘Here,’ he said, handing the vagrant the paper money and turning back to the white marks that had once pieced together a picture of his favourite wallpaper pattern - a Common Melancholy fetish era design with a slight hint of the more modern Marmalade Streak. It had been a good drawing, with each thick swirl perfectly placed to create the original tessellating pattern that was usually destroyed by the bad handiwork of careless wall decorators. The boy had taste if he'd really meant the compliment.

‘Wow!’ the boy exclaimed, grinning, ‘I asked for change not a fortune. Thanks mister!’
Francis did not turn, just gave his wide closed smile and listened to the sound of the boy’s feet slap against the wet pavement blocks as he scampered away.
The rain didn’t seem so bad now. Although he had to admit, his hair was getting in his eyes…

There was a clunk as the main Renwick Banquet Hall doors were opened unsteadily, and a couple of stewards bumbled out arguing with each other furiously. One was plump with a close stubble haircut, the other tall and pointy looking with a long, drawn face.

‘I was doing my job, you filthy mongrel!’ said the woman bitterly, hands clutched at her sides in white-knuckled fists.
‘Did you see the poor darlin’? You utterly destroyed her bloomin’ spirit! It could have worked if not for you!’ the man retorted angrily, throwing up his hands.
‘Do you really think one, scruffy little girl could have turned those Lansdale’s and the Manager around?’
‘Yes! She was the spark to light the damn fire for us staff! But you, you…Gah! You could have ignored it and the Lansdale’s would have got their comeuppance!’

‘Not quite,’ the woman hissed, leaning forward towards the man’s face with a deep scowl, ‘they could have so very easily still sent others to go in and get information to slag off the Hall for them, and the amount of damage to our reputation would have been worse by a long shot.’
She haughtily drew herself back up and pulled an ugly face, ‘try that for size Mr. I’m-the-Guy and find another way to fight your little fight without putting our job on the line as well as the Manager’s.’

There was an icy silence in which furious glances were exchanged, before Opal turned away with a sniff and marched off up the street in annoyance, whilst Guy stayed where he was defiantly, glaring a hole in the brick wall beside him.

Francis paused, and then started walking up to the entrance slowly, but Guy saw him before he got there and gave a weary sigh, rubbing his forehead irritably.

‘You’re the lad from yesterday aren’t you? Sorry you hadda hear the end of that.’
‘Things…did not go well I am to presume,’ the young artist said quietly.
‘Got that right, mate. Bloody Miss. I’m-an-ever-so-loyal-steward Opal had to trot up and spoil it all when it was just gettin’ started, tearin’ everythin’ apart with that smug grin of hers.‘ He spat on the ground. ‘Luckily Penny’s been allowed to stay on the job, and Stanley’ll be allowed back sometime in the next few weeks, so it didn’t mess up everythin’…but still…’

Francis said nothing, but he felt he’d already got the gist of how the night had gone.
‘Penny’s bein’ cheered up by a couple of cooks I think - presumin’ your hear to pick the little mite up?’
Francis nodded.
‘Alright, follow me mate…’

They indeed found the eleven-year old sitting in the kitchen on one of the stools, a lanky scrubber lad patting her on the shoulder awkwardly and trying to tell her a joke to cheer her up, but with only one glance Francis knew the slim chance of that having any effect.
Gloria was mumbling something to an unhappy looking Alfie and throwing sympathising looks across the room to the young girl between sentences, the dish cloth in her hand thoroughly rung out from her constantly twisting hands.

‘Penny?’ he said gently as he came nearer. She didn’t look up.
The scrubber lad did though, and gave an embarrassed half smile before getting back to his scrubbing duties.
‘We need to go home now, Penny. It’s raining, but you can have my jacket.’
The girl still said no words, but did look up this time, the expression on her face assuring him that she would have cried had she not been forcing it all back.

Not even a pound note could have made those lips smile…

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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
aww, I just wanna give Penny a hug! poor kid, :worry: Francis sounds crazy but cool. kinda like I might be when I'm older. B)
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Turnip05
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Hee, Francis is a bit strange - but we love him for it :P

Yay! No more exams, Mock or real, until next term *dances* I'm glad they're over for now - more time to write :)

Next part -



The instant they got home, Penny chucked off her coat and threw herself into her little cupboard room, locking the door loudly behind her and leaving Francis to stand alone in the hallway with the coats.
Mrs. Gladys - startled by the noise - stuck her head round the kitchen door in a flurry.
‘Is everythin-’ she started, but Francis shook his head gently and put a spindly finger to his lips.
The old woman sighed slowly, seeming to deflate where she was standing, glancing mournfully at the cupboard door before beckoning the artist into the kitchen.

‘So what happened?’ she asked quietly as he followed her in, shutting the door gently behind her.
‘A steward called Opal told Mr. Forster about the plan…I believe. It…disrupted things to an extent. With shouting.’
‘Oh, poor love…so is Stanley in trouble now?’
‘Well…no,’ Francis pushed back his loose fringe and frowned, ‘as far as the steward told me, everything is still the same. Stanley will resume his position in a few weeks, and Penny will work instead of him until then. The staff have been…put on warning…’
‘Oh, good, so everythin’s alright then,’ Mrs. Gladys said with relief, ‘she’s just disappointed it all didn’t go to plan. Okay…that’s better than I thought.’

She flopped down on the stool by the fire and gave Francis a sad smile.
‘Hopefully she’ll get over mopin’ soon then. My daughters were terrible for it, y’know, forever gettin’ in strops and lockin’ themselves in their rooms - or at least jamming the door shut. We had to get the joiner once ‘cause Mary couldn’t get out, silly girl...’
The artist smiled. ‘It might be best if I leave you to the delicates then.’
Mrs. Gladys chuckled, ‘Oh sure, I can deal with little Penny no problem, she just needs a good mug of warm milk and a shoulder to cry on, although knowin’ her she’d rather not let someone see her cryin’…’
Francis nodded, and gave a cheerless sigh before quietly saying goodnight, and retiring up to his rented room.

It was an hour before Mrs. Gladys heard anything from Penny, and even then, only because she’d got out ot go to the bathroom..
‘You can run a hot bath my little sparrow - my husband won’t mind,’ she had called into the girl’s room to try and coax her out later on, ‘it’ll make you feel better, am sure.’
But there was nothing but a mere muffled decline and a snotty sniff in reply. The girl wouldn’t budge for anything.
Mrs. Gladys tried biscuits, coffee, extra cushions, Greywacke (who was sleeping by the stove as was now usual), spoons of jam, more biscuits, a hot water bottle - anything to wheedle the moody girl out of her little coven of sulk, but Penny was severely stubborn, refusing to come out at all.

Eventually, Stanley came in from seeing a few friends, and after being told the gist of the story from the old woman, took off his coat and knocked gently on the cupboard door.

‘You’ll get a bad back sitting in there all night, Penny. And anyways, you need to eat some supper. Come on.’
‘I’m fine. I’m not hungry and I’m lyin’ down - so I’m fine,’ she called gruffly, her voice croaky as if she’d been crying.
‘Aww…I’ll put some of that chocolate stuff in warm milk - you always like that. A treat for being brave?’
There was only silence.
He sighed.

‘I’m not mad at you Penny - in fact, I’m pretty happy - I’ve still got my job, and you got back at the Lansdale’s. I’d say that means things went reasonably well. Especially with how wrong it could have gone because of Opal.’
‘But they’ve got a real reason to write nasty stuff ‘bout us now,’ she cried, ‘revenge-like! An’ they could just send others in for information like Guy said Opal was sayin‘ - although, he tried not to let me overhear…I just messed it all up, and now the Manager’s all angry and shouty at everybody...’

Stanley heaved a sigh and glanced up at Mrs. Gladys, watching as she shrugged her shoulders and wandered away into the drawing room.

‘It’s not the end of the world, Penny,’ he said, turning back to the cupboard door, ‘the Halls have so much reputation that the Lansdale’s taking a quick bite out of it for a snippy article won’t do it any harm.’
‘But they could say somethin’ nasty ‘bout someone that works there again, like Gloria or Maisy,’ she moaned, ‘and then it’ll all go back in a circle thing again with the firin’, an’ the shoutin’, an’ everythin’ gettin’ in an unhappy mess…I don’t wan’ that to happen to people anymore. That was the point of everythin’ tonight, an’ it didn’t work.’
There was a choky cough and the sound of bed covers shuffling.
‘I just wish I’d never done anythin’ to start all this, that’s all. I’m tired, Stanley. Let me sleep…’

There was more shuffling, and Stanley could sense her movements through the door as she bundled herself up in her blankets.
He stayed for a few more moments, but didn’t say anything, crouched down silently by the cupboard and realising it was no use to try and persuade her otherwise. At least for now. Tomorrow, she should be fine…
‘Fine then. Good night.’
‘G’night…’ she called gruffly back.

He stood up achingly, running his hands through his dirty blonde hair and frowning worriedly at the cupboard door. He felt something Nanny Coutt had said should have entered his head at that moment, but his mind revealed nothing but her cackling image, sitting in her front garden and counting the hairs on the palms of her hands…
It would be best for him to just get some sleep too, he guessed - he did have gardening in the morning. Contemplating this news about Penny wasn‘t making him feel any better, so he trod lightly up the stairs to his room, and having quietly got ready in the dark (the usual candle seemed to have gone missing), tucked himself comfortably into bed, and waited for sleep to take over…


It had come eventually, but dragging himself downstairs the next morning must have been a miracle. His restless night had left him drained rather than refreshed, with a terrible headache and horribly sore back. It didn’t help that Penny hadn’t cheered up since the night before either.

She moped and moped around the house all morning like a miserable goat, bleating occasionally when she wanted a drink, or a bite of food. Stanley managed to escape her gloomy aura because of the gardening, but when he came back after lunch from Mrs. Josephine’s, Mrs. Gladys was raring to go with complaints about the child’s miserable loitering.

‘Hasn’t perked up one bit!’ she declared gruffly as she washed the clothes by the back door, the water over spilling from the tub slightly each time she scrubbed a little too forcefully, ‘thought she’d just get over it by the mornin‘, but it’s really eatin’ away at her.’
Stanley didn’t reply, wondering if he’d been like Penny was when he’d was worrying those last weeks - annoying and stubborn. He really hoped not.

‘I wish she’d just pick up her feet an’ at least help me with the chores like usual, or go and bother Francis,’ continued Mrs. Gladys from the tub, ‘it’s makin’ me grumpy.’
‘I can tell,’ Stanley murmured, but shut up as he was given a sharp glance.
‘I’m not havin’ cheek from you too - get away an’ get me some fresh bread from the bakers if you’re just gonna sit there,’ she muttered, gesturing towards the drawer where her purse was kept.

The young man sighed, but went over obediently, taking out a couple of coins and trudging off through the hallway for his coat.
Penny was sitting on the stairs, picking at her sleeves moodily.

‘Hey,’ he said, taking his old coat off the stand, ‘you’re still going to the Halls today right?’
She shrugged, ‘dunno. Probably.’
‘Probably,’ Stanley repeated with a sigh, ‘oh well, it’s better than downright saying no…’
Penny scowled at him and he chuckled.
‘If you are, go early again - don’t risk angering the Manager.’
She snorted and scuffed the carpet with her bare toes, ‘I know that.’
‘Good! Now stop moping and go help Mrs. Gladys whilst I go out and get her some bread.’
But she just stuck her tongue out at him and folded her arms across her skinny chest. He pulled a face back at her and opened the door.

Adolescence come early? he thought as he shook his head, starting down the front steps. I hope not. But then Mrs. Gladys did say she acts older than she is - and she’s having some wonderful mood swings right about now…

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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
Hazarding a guess, I would say your from the UK. And probably somewhere around my age. how did your exams go? ^_^ I bet you did pretty good in English. :) still a wonderful story.
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
Yeah, I live in the Uk, but I'm just in year 10 so I haven't done my English stuff yet. I'm doing my maths GCSE a year early though, and a modular course in french and science - so lots of regular mocks and real exams :yfok:

I haven't got my science results yet, but I'm confident that I'll get good marks *is a complete swot* :P

Anyway - back to the story! I'm not entirely pleased with this next section, and will proably regret putting it up later on, but it's been a week and I need to get updating...



‘You sent him away for bread a few moments ago?’ the woman cried in disbelief, ‘oh, just great…’

Mrs. Gladys watched as the dark haired caller pulled a clearly distraught face, and began to feel somewhat guilty of sending Stanley away. This woman had obviously pushed herself to come seek him out -whether physically or mentally- and it felt a bit mean to have denied her her chance.
‘Look, just…just tell’im Magda called, alright?’ she mumbled uncomfortably, cheeks reddening, ‘I knew I shouldna bothered comin’…’

The older woman blinked. ‘Magda? You’re his sister?’
The broad faced lady looked up and nodded cautiously.
‘W-well he shouldn’t be long - you can stay until he comes,’ Mrs. Gladys tried to say kindly, but was suddenly, and very acutely aware of Stanley’s descriptions of his ‘dear’ sister’s manner, and wasn’t sure if this was advisable.
‘Well I, er…I mean, I don’t wanna bother you,’ Magda stammered, also unsure of her words, trying to keep calm and not just turn and run like she was finding she really wanted.

She had spent her whole morning struggling on the subject of visiting her brother, and after forcing herself to trek the few streets it took to get to his lodgings, it wasn’t making her feel any better to find he wasn’t even there. She didn’t really want to wait for him in this woman’s house either - she was nervous enough already without having to deal with strangers.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them, before they heard the sound of footsteps and a young girl suddenly stuck her head around the old woman’s skirts, staring curiously up at Magda.
Magda stared curiously back.

‘Here, you little sparrow, I thought I told you to hang out the washin’!’ Mrs. Gladys cried.
‘I’ve done it!’ Penny retorted, pouting, ‘there weren’t much to hang an’ you’d done most of it! Stop accusin‘ me o‘ bein‘ a lazy slob…’
Mrs. Gladys frowned and put her hands on her hips impatiently, but the young girl just turned away and nodded to Magda. ‘An‘ who’s this?’
‘Stanley’s sister, cheeky madam, an’ you’ll get yourself out o’ this awful mood before you go to the Hall’s, or you’ll send the Manager into another damn fit!’
The girl pouted again and turned huffily away, trudging back down to the kitchen sourly.

Magda thought it might be best for her to just creep away now, beginning to take hesitant steps away from the front door as carefully as she could, but the old woman had seemingly gained an angry assurance because of the young girl, and had become decisively confident in welcoming her inside to wait.

‘Come on in,’ she sighed irritably as she watched the eleven year old skid round the kitchen door with a squeak, ‘I’m Mrs. Gladys, an’ sorry about the boisterous child. She’s in a weird mood. I’ll put the kettle on an’ you can have a cup of tea whilst you wait for your brother…’

The dark haired woman paused, unwilling, but could only let herself be ushered into the house by Mrs. Gladys‘ impatient looks, and soon found herself seated by a rough wooden table with a mug of hot tea in her hands, watching the skinny little girl play with a grey cat on the stone floor. She could only guess she was Mrs. Gladys’ granddaughter or niece.

‘I heard Stanley’s tryin’ to sort things back out between you two,’ said Mrs. Gladys, filling a little brown teapot with tap water and beginning to water a few plants on the windowsill.
‘Oh er, yeah…yeah he his. I guess,’ Magda mumbled, drinking from her mug uncomfortably, wishing she had escaped whilst she’d had the chance.

She hadn’t come here to be interrogated - she just wanted to see her brother.
No. That was a lie. She didn’t want to see her brother, she was just so confused about their last meeting that she felt the need to get things straight in her head, and seeing him was the only way to do so. All she could remember from his insane ramble was something about sending a pay-packet a week, a girl called Penny, and lots of bloody change. He said he was getting her out of there - forgetting the past. It doesn’t matter, he had cried, it’s the future we should be discussing!
Where had the old Stan gone? Where were the arguments, the normality? He was right, she didn’t like change, and this was even worse.

She managed to drink down the rest of the tea (which was actually pretty good) without being questioned any further, but as she put the cup down the young girl on the floor began to speak.

‘What d’you wanna see Stanley for?’ she enquired.
Magda shrugged her shoulders, not daring to discuss her issues with a simple child, and was about to make a discouraging comment before something in her brain clicked.

That little street urchin with a grin to make you chuckle…

‘Wait a minute,’ she said slowly, frowning at the supposed granddaughter, ‘are you…Penny?’
The girl blinked. ‘Eh? I thought I said-’
‘-are you Penny?’ Magda stressed, standing up from her seat briskly.
‘Y-yeah, yeah I am,’ the girl answered, startled, watching as the woman’s eyes widened.

‘Then what did you do?

Penny stared open-mouthed, Greywacke uncurling from her lap as she stopped stoking him in bewilderment. ‘Wha‘?’

‘He was fine when he came to see me those few days ago, talkin‘ about those Lansdale‘s and everythin’ - I was ready for a good argument. But then he said somethin’ about you, about you teachin’ him ‘bout the past. He started laughin‘, laughin’ not just at me but at himself!’ the woman exclaimed, waving her arms wildly, ‘he used to be so tough, so stubborn and…and far shorter! An’ he said you were the girl who made him see that…that everythin’ should be changed, or summin’. I mean, he damn well confused me for good after his bloomin’ long ramble - but you! You musta done somethin’ to him, an’ I wanna know what!’

By now Magda was up and away from the table, stooping over a stunned Penny and frantically wishing she could just shake the answer out of the girl.

‘It doesn’t make sense!’ she continued, ‘sure, Mr. Hopkins woulda beat him outta his old habits an’ taught him his manners - but who can make a Morris turn round to his sister and say, I’m gonna help you get outta this mess? We’re renowned the hatin’ each other - not helpin’! What did you do?

Penny stuttered helplessly under the woman‘s strongly expectant gaze, ‘I-I didn’t do nothin’!’
‘Miss. Morris, please!’ Mrs. Gladys said firmly, crowding up to Magda and pushing her back with a glare of disapproval, chest heaving with motherly protection, ‘I can safely say the girl ain’t done anythin’ to your brother an’ you can button your lip ‘till then! I’ll give you tea an’ a biscuit whilst you wait in my house, but I’ll have none of this shoutin’ at Penny. You should be ashamed, a young woman like you flamin’ at children ‘cause you’re confused about your brother! Act reasonably, for goodness sake!’

Magda sat down in her seat again instantly and fell immediately silent.
Mrs. Gladys shook her head and sighed irritably, thumping the teapot back on the bench as she muttered under her breath angrily.
'Got no manners, stupid girl...'

For the next few minutes not a word passed between their lips, Magda feeling embarrassed and foolish at the table, and little Penny silent on the floor as she tried to figure out what on earth the woman had been going on about, a restless Greywacke nibbling on her fingertips.

Eventually, there was the clacking sound of the front door being opened, and all three females turned their eager ears to the noisy clatter as footsteps were heard, accompanied by the rustle of a grocery bag.

‘Hello?’ called Stanley warily, ‘I got the thick stuff you usually have, is that alright? The sliced bread was on offer, but I know Mr. Gladys don’t like that, so I skipped it…is that okay?’
There was a strange sense of relief in the kitchen as he spoke, the tension lessening dramatically. But not for long.
‘Fine, my pumpkin,’ Mrs. Gladys called back. Then, with hands on hips, she turned to Magda, cocking an eyebrow.

‘I’ll let you bawl all you want now, missus, don’t you worry, ’the old woman said in low tones, ‘just keep the bloomin’ volume down and don’t disturb my other guests. Penny stays out o’ this too!’
With that, she nudged the young girl with her foot, and made her get up, shooing her out the room in front of her and giving Magda a final warning glare.

‘Just put the bag on the table my pumpkin‘, she nodded to Stanley as she went by him in the corridor, ‘an’ have fun…’
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
Sorry for such a long wait for update - I had many things to do this week, and my brother has been hogging the computer <_<

Thanks to those that still read and comment :wub:



Penny frowned as the once loud voices were reduced to harsh whispers and pressed her ear against the cold upturned glass harder. Still the words came through the cupboard wall muffled, barely understandable. She’d been able to hear them fine the last few minutes, but now the boiler had began gurgle somewhere along the wall, cutting out their voices annoyingly.
Sure, eavesdropping was rude and intrusive, but no doubt Mrs. Gladys was doing the same in the drawing room next door. The only feasible punishment could come from Stanley himself, and he was too nice to be nasty.

‘…can’t I help without an argument?’ came the young man’s voice through the glass, finally clear and audible as the gurgling stopped, ‘I’m not forcing you to do anything with-’
‘-it’s the fact you think I canna look after me’self that bothers me Stan,’ cut in Magda angrily, ‘I’m not desperate.’
There was a sudden distorted sound of footsteps and the ear-splitting scraping of a chair, causing Penny to take her ear hastily away from the glass end in pain, cursing as a continuous ringing started somewhere in the depths of her eardrum.

Damn it!

Hurriedly, she shook herself and put her ear back, ignoring the tinny echo as much as she could.

‘…to insult me?’
‘No! Look, are you happy? Are you seriously and downright happy with your life Magda? Cause I can safely say that doesn’t seem the case to me...’
There was a pause and the shuffling of feet.
‘So what d’you propose then, eh?’ came a haughty reply, ‘I don’t have anythin’ to get me a better job - no skills, no charm - an’ don’t even joke about marriage Stan, that’s never gonna happen!’
‘How do you know? Why are you so sure? You put down every idea without even trying it out. Just trust me…’

Magda’s laugh came through muffled.
‘We don’t trust - we’re Morris’s ain’t we? I’m glad for the extra note or two - but what do you want me to do with it? You talk about happiness, but they say money don’t buy happiness.’
‘Then do what you want with it, if that‘s your attitude,’ sighed an exasperated Stanley, ‘save it, spend it, buy a new hat! I’m just trying to make it easier for you. I want to see you healthy and smiling, not gloomy and bitter - you’re my sister, and I’m your brother, and we need to start acting like we know that...I’m willing to forgive you for the Lansdale interview, despite the amount of trouble it’s caused me, so I hope you can accept the fact that I’ve changed - hopefully into a better person…please. Do you think I‘m going to turn round and steal the house or something once your out? Just accept that I want to help you out of…brotherly love or whatever…it’s not hard…please…’

To Penny‘s dismay, the talking seemed to stop there, replaced with the sounds of the boiler and water pipes as the plumbing gurgled it‘s way back into life.
Irritably, she tried to hear if they weren’t just conversing very quietly, but alas, not a peep could be heard. Not even the slightest whisper.

Sighing, she gave up on the cup and sat moodily against the wall, rubbing her still ringing ear. At least she’d got the gist of it, and the questions about why Magda had shouted at her had been answered to a satisfying degree earlier on- even if she was sure that wasn’t the end of it all.

Stan…

Never had Stanley ever referred to himself as ‘Stan’ before. It was always ‘Mr. Morris’ or ‘Stanley’ from Gloria, Francis, or the Gladys’. No-one apart from this Magda ever called him by the name ‘Stan’.

It made Penny think of the young boy he’d been, the one in the article Mr. Gladys had read out to her, about his fighting and family. The one she couldn’t quite see as the man who’d took her in, found her a home, and made her his apprentice. No one had been so kind to her, not since Ginny, and she found it hard to see him as the Morris trouble child, the devil son she’d never known.

She heard a few muffled words through the wall and reached for the cup again, but decided against it. She needed to get to the Halls sometime soon, and her legs were getting stiff. Pins and needles had already started in her right foot.
Sighing, she unlocked the bedroom door and clambered out, leaning back in to grab her cap from the messy clothes pile and fetch her leather working shoes.

Turning round and knocking the door shut with her foot, she saw the clock in the hall state quarter to four.
Nearly time, she thought, and sat on the stairs to tie her laces, noticing the siblings in the kitchen were quiet once again, and wondering what Francis was up to…


Meanwhile, Stanley watched in silence as his sister buried her face in her arms, a pile of dark curls hiding her expression.
When she eventually looked up, she spoke so quietly he could barely hear.

‘I wish you’d just be normal again, Stan,’ she murmured, ‘why couldn’t you just be nasty and say I deserve to be miserable? Why can’t you just punch me in the arm every time I fight back like you always used to?’

He gave a weary smile.
‘Because I’ve grown up,’ he answered simply, also keeping his voice low. He had no doubt that the two lovely women in his life were eavesdropping like mad behind a pair of walls somewhere, and felt no pain in making it hard for them now he and his fellow sibling had quietened down.

‘That’s it? You’ve grown up?’ she said, spreading her hands across the table.
‘In a nutshell.’
‘Are you tryin’ to imply that I ain’t grown up?’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’

The woman moaned, but seemed to have lost the will to fight and buried her face in her arms again.
‘Mfffn nen,’ she said into her arm.
Stanley laughed. ‘What?’
Magda frowned and snapped her head up, ‘Fine then, I said! Have it your way. I’ll take the money and save it for whatever, even if I canna see the point.’
Her little brother smiled.

‘I won’t move away though - perhaps do the house up, sure - but I’m not movin’ away-’
‘-I didn’t say you had to-’
‘-you want me to though, an’ that’s one thin’ you’re not gettin’ out o‘ this,’ she said pointing a finger and beginning to stand up, ‘Alright?’
He nodded, the smile widening on his face, glad to have won her over eventually.

‘An’ no soppy stuff about brotherly an’ sisterly love when I next see you,’ she declared, turning round to face him as she walked out of the kitchen and down along the hallway towards the door.
Stanley just nodded, still smiling, following along behind and holding the door as she clambered down the front steps.
There was a moments hesitation before she turned to face him.

‘And err…tell the little girl am sorry.’
‘Penny?’
He gave her a curious look.
‘Um…yeah. I sort of shouted at her - didna mean to. I was just…frustrated wi’ you not bein’ there and all…I know I shouldn’t have, but tell her am sorry…’
She rubbed at her neck uncomfortably as Stanley scowled at her.
Then he sighed, and just nodded, not daring to ask for the details and said goodbye, watching as her stocky figure retreated gingerly away down the path, and closing the door behind her with a click.

He turned back into the hall to see Penny standing at the top of the stairs, leaning over the banister with a cheeky grin.
‘Victorious?’ she asked, descending the stairs with a skip.
‘To some degree.’
She jumped the last two steps and landed with a heavy thud.

‘She er…wanted to say sorry about shouting or something. Magda that is,’ Stanley added.
The young girl just laughed, ‘It don’t matter, I know what she meant now. Greywacke’s still a bit peeved though - gave him a fright poor thing.’
Stanley snorted, ‘that cat’s no poor thing, I can tell you.’
Penny just stuck her tongue out at him, and glanced at the clock. Stanley glanced too.

‘Are you going then?’ he asked.
She nodded, ‘of course, couldn’t leave poor Maisy to try an’ do the job again. An’ anyway, I may as well get the Manager on me good side before you come back - especially if those Lansdale’s do somethin’ this Monday.’
Stanley pulled a face, ‘don’t remind me. I don’t want to think about those two, or their bloody Courier. I’ve only just got Magda sorted - I really don’t feel up to dealing with them now.’
Penny watched as he yawned and smiled.

‘I better be goin’ then.,’ she said, walking past him to the door.
‘Oh, okay. See you later, and good luck.’ he murmured, giving a tired farewell wave and watching her walk down the path as he had his sister. ‘Bye.’
The girl waved back at the end of the way, and called over, ‘send someone to pick me up!’
‘You think I wouldn’t?’ he cried back, chuckling.
He followed her with his eyes until her brown clad figure was lost around a street corner, and then turned back inside the house.

All’s well that ends well then, with my job intact and Magda still talking to me, he thought with a sigh, closing the door and wandering through to the kitchen.

Or at least, so I really, really hope…

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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
man, I look forward to this story every week. :D still fantasticly written. Im glad things are on a bit of an up now though, but I gotta wonder how long it'll last. Im already looking forward to the next one. ^_^
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Idiot
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Yaaaay, this story's still running! I've been without internet access for a while, so I haven't been able to get on and check. You definitely deserve more readers than this, although judging by the topic view count there are a lot of people who just read and don't comment. Perhaps we should put an Anything Stories Appeal in Mumble. :)
Fantastic stuff as ever, I look forward to the next update. And to more commenters - come on, out of lurkerdom, you lot. *glares around accusingly* And if there aren't any lurkers, well, we'll just have to make some, won't we? :P
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
:wub:

You two always make me smile when I read your comments - thank you!
And glad to see you're back as well Idiot - I was wondering if you'd joined the lurkers :lol:

The next bit was a scene I've been waiting to write for about two weeks now - it was a relief to finally get it out of my head...



The overnight frost had covered everything.
Each flower, each path stone, each thin, neat blade of grass was frozen with a thin layer of sparkling silver. Frost was very much unwelcome to Stanley, especially as there was no defence against it as far as he knew, and it often killed the plants he was being paid to look after.

It was also loosening his grip on the ponds stone edge where he was standing in Mrs. Josephine’s garden, and with a sudden cry he just missed the low branch of a nearby tree as he slipped dangerously. The rake he had dropped in shock slid away across the stones in a shot, and fell into the murky water with a messy ‘plop’, covering - and most likely staining - his thinning gardening boots with thick silt.

Great, now I’ve lost the rake in the pond I was trying to clean, and no doubt I‘ll have some lovely bruises tomorrow when I wake up…

The young man sighed and got up unsteadily, shaking the filth from his boots and rubbing his backside as he did so. Mrs. Josephine’s garden was a death trap in the cold of winter.

For a moment he just stood staring at the pool of water in disbelief, wondering how deep and dirty it really was.
Either way, he felt confident that jumping in with such short boots was not advisable. He needed proper waders.

Awkwardly, he set off up the vast extent of his employers garden towards her huge house, annoyed at his lack of concentration. Never was he usually that clumsy.
But then again, the thought of the Lansdale’s had been playing on his mind all morning, spurred on by Penny’s disheartening comments from the night before as he had walked her back home from the Halls.

All the staff had seemed to have lost their customary liveliness she had complained moodily with each step, telling him that everyone had been so quiet and meek, not daring to speak to each other about anything other than work, as if terrified the Manager would be listening just around the nearest corner. They were so paranoid she had stressed, but at the same time they would just shrug their shoulders whenever she mentioned the two cat-grinning gossip-lovers, telling her they surely wouldn’t try anything again after all that fuss. Right?
She was so annoyed they were just accepting it without even saying a bad word against them, as if it was normal for people to throw slander around and make people lose their jobs for the sake of a good story.

Stanley himself was surprised at the staff, but he could see why they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves with the Manager so easily angry, and his warning still fresh in their minds. He was a very delicate man to deal with in situations like this, and no doubt none of the Staff were going to take their chances. Jobs in the Renwick Halls were well paid compared to other places, but dangerous to take because of all the publicity it attracted, with minds like the Lansdale’s ready to strike when things got…interesting, as they’d probably put it.

With these thoughts in mind he trudged his way glumly along one of the many walkways that were scattered across Mrs. Josephine’s garden, hands in his old coat pockets to try and keep out the cold. Hopefully the old woman had some sort of high leg wellingtons he could use…

For a split moment he looked up with a frown as he thought he heard someone call his name - but there was no-one in sight. He glanced behind him through a row of browning hedges he’d recently trimmed, but caught no movement on the other side.

Shrugging, he regained his steady trudging motion, and continued onward towards the house…



‘P-perhaps he f-f-fell in the pond?’ muttered a cold, and increasingly grumpy Maisy as she followed Guy around another confusing and frozen stretch of his mother’s mysteriously interwoven garden.
‘Ha! Not likely - it’s only a couple o’ feet deep. An’ anyway, he’s the gardener! What’s he gonna be doin’ fallin’ into ponds, eh?’ the chubby man laughed, kicking a stone block off the edge of the path, ‘he’ll be somewhere round here, dinna you worry…’

Moodily, Maisy sat down on a nearby carved wooden plank resting on a couple of stones that served as one of Mrs. Josephine’s ‘ornate’ benches. Trying to find Stanley in this maze of a garden was wearing her out.
‘Do we r-r-really need to ask him?’ she sighed, staring at the murkiness of the pool beside her glumly, ‘h-he doesn’t really n-need to know, d-d-does he?’
‘Oh codswallop, Maisy. Brighten up, it’s just a little bit of cold. He should be here any minute, an’ although he ain’t essential I’m sure he’d wanna know about it...’
The red head sighed again and stared up at the hill of lawn that held the Josephine’s grand family manor.

Apparently Guy’s mother had been a bit of a singing star in her younger days, touring the region with a piano and bass on the back of a cart. She’d managed to land a proper, permanent stage in the capital after a business manager had spotted her talent over in one of the small border towns, and then married Guy’s father whilst she was there. He’d had a bit of pocket from a textile factory he shared the management and profits with, and combined, the two made a handsomely rich couple.
Now they were both retired and settled in this smaller, but just as lively city, they could spend the savings they’d made on making life a luxury, or at least comfortable in their old age.

Guy was one of their three sons, but none of them had ever really grown up to be as successful as their parents - although each certainly had a place working in a successful business. Johnny, the eldest, worked for a popular printing press over in the western district of the city, and with all the newsletter and newspaper companies passing through day after day, he’d heard a lot of rumours about a certain two Blue Willow Courier employees…

‘Hey!’
Maisy snapped back into focus as Guy called out, waving his arms at a tall, brown looking figure that was slowly descending across the lawn from the manor. It seemed to stop in confusion for a moment, and then slowly began walking towards them again uncertainly.

‘Mr. Morris?’ Guy shouted as the figure got nearer.
‘Yes?’ came a reply.
Clearly Guy hadn‘t expected it come back as a question, and blinked. ‘Oh er…we want to talk to you?’
Maisy laughed and watched as the bemused Stanley weaved himself through the garden towards them, a worried look on his pale face.
As he came nearer, she suddenly noticed the strange get-up he was wearing of extremely high and green wellington boots, and a pair of long, stretchy rubber gloves. It seemed to make him squeak as he walked.

‘Bloomin’ hell,’ Guy muttered, staring at the boots, ‘my mum has to roll ‘em over twice before she can fit them monsters on.’
‘They’re Mrs. Josephine‘s?’ Stanley laughed, ‘I wondered why they nipped at the toes.’
Guy smiled, but shook himself. ‘Um…you’re…you’re probably wonderin’ who we are, right? I mean we‘ve just kinda appeared from no-where…‘
The young man laughed again. ‘Well, I’m guessing you’re one of my employer’s sons, since you called her mum…Johnny? Guy? Leo- ’
‘-it‘s Guy-’
‘-but I’ve no clue who you are,’ he finished, turning to the sitting Maisy.
‘O-oh, um. I’m M-Maisy,’ she stuttered, blushing, ‘I work at the H-Halls as a s-s-steward with Guy. Um, Penny might have m-mentioned me.’
Stanley nodded, ‘she said you helped her and Francis out the night after I was fired.’
The red head nodded happily.

‘So, is this something to do with the Halls, then?’ the gardener asked worriedly, fiddling with the long sleeves of his gloves.
The two stewards shared a glance.
‘P-partly,’ Maisy stuttered, ‘but it’s a-actually about t-t-the Lansdale couple, Tetra and Donald.’
‘One of me other brothers - Johnny - works for a printin’ company across town, an’ ‘cause of all the people he gets to meet and chat to, he’s heard a lot of fishy stuff about the two o’ them,’ Guy continued.
‘Yes, and b-because you’ve happened to h-have b-b-been…involved with them, w-we thought we’d ask you if you knew anyone, or a-anything that could help us.’
Stanley frowned, but Guy spoke again before he could say anything.
‘I know this is a bit of a springin’ on you lad, but we want all the help we can in tryin’ to find out this little secret of theirs, an’ nail ‘em down for all the stuff they‘ve done to our friends. The others in the Hall are pretty disheartened, but we’re prepared to give it another try - although without the Manager on our backs, o’ course…’

Guy gave him a hopeful look, but Stanley could only shake his head. ‘I’m afraid I really don’t know much about them in terms of background - and most of the people I know are just from the Halls, as in the dark as me or you. Sorry.’

‘T-that’s alright,’ Maisy said, standing up with a quiet sigh, ‘we’re j-just seeing what we can f-f-find out. They’ve done a lot to our friends the p-past three years they’ve been around, and w-we hope we can give them a taste of their own m-medicine with this lead on the rumours Guy’s b-brother heard.’
‘Then I hope it all goes well for you,’ Stanley said with an encouraging nod, ‘I’ll be happy to help with anything.’
‘Thanks, mate.’
‘Thank you, e-especially for your time. S-sorry to disturb you,’ Maisy added. Then, with a disappointed glance to each other, the two stewards said goodbye.

A strange encounter, Stanley thought as he watched them walk away up one of the garden paths with a wave, particularly since Penny was telling me how discouraged the people had been yesterday. Seems she‘d been wrong about those two.

Looking down at the congealing pond beside him, he remembered he had a job to do and stretched out his rubber gloves for the task at hand. As he stepped gingerly into the pool - damn well hoping the wellingtons were long enough - he heard Maisy and Guy conversing as they walked away.

‘Who can we ask next? This mornin’ I mean…’ came the slightly strained sounding voice of Guy, strangely high pitched for a man Stanley remembered thinking.
‘W-well, there is my s-sister.’
‘Oh yeah…’
Stanley bit his lip as he leant down into the murky depths of the pond, feeling along the bottom cautiously for the rake.
‘Where does she live though?’
‘O-oh, a lodging house near the h-high street - and the Hall I guess. B-but I don’t really know h-how to get there. S-sorry.’
‘Hmm. Well I dinna know any addresses of lodgin’ houses me’self I’m afraid, Maisy.’
His hand finally felt a solid object under its fingertips, and he grinned victoriously.
‘It’s the Gladys’ l-lodging house…’

Stanley blinked as he heard the familiar name of home, and suddenly dragged out the rake quickly, turning hurriedly and leaning over the edge of the pond as he called out, ‘Hey! Wait!’
The two stewards jumped in shock and swiftly turned round towards the young man.
‘I know the Gladys lodging house - in fact I’m renting a room there, for goodness sake. I’ll show you the way if you’ll wait a bit!’
Maisy instantly beamed happily with cheeks flushed, ‘Y-you do? Thank you s-so much Mr. Morris!’
Stanley dragged himself out of the pond as the two began to walk back to him.
‘Does t-that mean you know my s-sister?’
He smiled and shook his head, ‘not really. All I know is she’s the short accountant lady who rents the attic room - no offence to her of course,’ he added, blushing a little.
‘That’s alright, m-most of my family’s short.’
‘Okay, right. Um, I’ll show you the way once I’ve got out of my frog man suit in a moment. Hold this would you?’
Guy took the rake from the young man’s hands helpfully and watched in amusement as Stanley tried to pull off his now horribly gooey green gloves.

‘See, Maisy? Told you he’d come in handy, eh? Worth the cold, eh?’ the steward said, elbowing the red head playfully.
She just laughed and nodded happily, ‘Definably. I-I haven’t seen Nina in a-ages…’


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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
Yay making people smile! :D its the least I can do to pay back for such a great story. ^_^
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Turnip05
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Gwahh - half-term holiday is very good. Lots of time to write and catch up on evil maths coursework ^_^

Thankyou Woo! *happiness*


---

‘Maisy!’

The accountant turned in surprise towards the trapdoor of her rented attic room from where she was working at her desk, and blinked behind her huge round spectacles as her older sister suddenly clambered up the attic ladders.
‘Maisy?! My gosh, what are you doing here!’ the woman gasped, pushing her chair back and standing up.
‘Well, I-I’m afraid it’s n-not for a reunion, Nina. I n-need your help. W-we need your help,’ Maisy said with an apologetic smile as she stood up cautiously from the ladders.
The small woman blinked behind her thick lenses, and then trotted curiously along to her sister, mouth becoming a little ‘o’ as she saw Guy and Stanley in the hallway below. Guy waved back cheerfully.

‘Oh,’ she said, glancing around her room at the mess of paper and documents, biting her fingers nervously, ‘I haven’t really had any guests since my birthday. Not up here. Works been very busy you know…’
‘D-don’t worry, Nina. I’m not here to i-inspect you like mother,’ Maisy assured kindly. Her sister giggled nervously, and shuffled paper off of chairs and tables for a few more spaces to sit.
‘It’s nice to see you though, I must admit. Please! Come on up!’ she called down the trapdoor to the two men. They gingerly obeyed, climbing up the ladder and joining the two red heads in the cramped, but homely space of the attic.

The sisters were quite different from each in appearance - barring their dark red hair. Nina of course was shorter, with longer, frizzy hair, her spectacles dominating her small pink face, and clothes draping across her spindly figure loosely. Maisy on the other hand stood far taller, with short, smooth hair that curled only around her ears, her build looking a little more plump than her scrawny sister’s.
Standing together in the room they looked completely the opposite of each other, yet at the same time it was clear that they were related.

‘T-this is Guy Josephine from m-my work, Nina,’ Maisy said as the men squeezed themselves onto an overcrowded box top, indicating to them with her hand, ‘a-and the other is S-Stanley Morris who will s-soon be from my work again…I-I hope.’
‘Well, I already partly know Stanley, both from the times I’ve actually managed to have time to talk to people in the house, and, well…work,’ replied her sister, offering some moth-eaten cushions to them.
‘Oh, of c-c-course. S-sorry.’

Stanley frowned worriedly. ‘You know me from work?’
The younger sister laughed, pushing her glasses back up her nose, ‘I work for the Blue Willow Courier as an accountant, you see. The Lansdale’s made quite a nasty deal out of your story, I’m afraid. Got them right into the good books with the director, happy smiles all round for money making purposes, since it attracted so many more new customers onto the gossip bandwagon. I’ve heard a lot about you these past few weeks because of it. Everybody’s been talking about the article.’
‘Oh…’
Stanley shuffled uneasily on the box, thinking about the kind of things people would have had to say about him - especially if they only knew about the second article. Not nice things, he guessed.

And I bet it doesn’t amount to the best first impression to have on someone, either, he thought uneasily, biting his lip and avoiding the accountant’s gaze.

Nina seemed to click onto this after a few moments, and then suddenly waved her arms wildly and gave an awkward chuckle, ‘b-but that doesn’t mean I think bad of you Mr. Morris! Definably not! I’m not one to judge a person’s character according to the words of the Lansdale’s. You’ve always seemed a nice enough lad when I’ve seen you around the place, and anyway - I couldn’t give a damn if what the newsletter says is true or not. I keep my own opinion from my own experiences with people - and I don’t believe I’ve seen you spitting at old men or starting a fight outside in the streets. So don’t you worry about what I think,’ she said with a smile, placing her hands on her practically non-existent hips.
‘Oh, right, that’s okay then,’ Stanley said, blushing with a sheepish grin.

‘Well, talkin’ of the Lansdale’s, that’s what we’re here for,’ Guy piped up, ‘and from what you’ve just said I’m guessin’ you ain’t too fond of the couple, eh?’
‘No,’ said Nina flatly, ‘definably not. I’m actually a little suspicious about them to be honest. There’s no word on their background or the last place they worked at, and Donald certainly comes into the accounts office often enough to be able to…keep a…proper...tally…’
The little woman trailed off and stared back at her guests, who had suddenly leaned forward with incredible interest as she’d continued her answer. ‘W-what?’

‘I-I told you she’d have s-something!’ Maisy exclaimed happily to Guy, clasping her hands.
‘I have something? W-what are you talking about?’ Nina stuttered, turning from Maisy to Guy in a flurry of worried glances.
‘We’re lookin’ for a way to get back at the Lansdale’s for all they’ve done to our friends at the Halls, you see? And to do so, we need to find somethin’ nice and scandalous about them, ‘cause no doubt there’s somethin’ shady that drives them to do what they do. Or at least, for Donald. We came here to see if you had information you could give us to help expose them, and luckily for us, it seems that you have,’ Guy said with a happy grin.
‘Wait a minute, why just an excuse for Donald? What’s Tetra’s excuse,’ Stanley questioned. The two stewards glanced at each other.

‘When w-we tried that p-plan of Penny’s a few nights back, T-Tetra had some sort of…panic attack. C-claimed all the gossip and articles were her o-obsession. Like she needed it to live. I-It was a bit p-peculiar to say the least.’
Stanley pulled a face. ‘Really?’
Guy nodded, ‘Tetra‘s got issues by the sound of it.’

There was a sudden sigh, and the three turned to see Nina rubbing at her glasses with a frown on her face.
‘So, you’ve come to see me because you want information on the Lansdale’s?’ she asked.
‘Y-you do know something, d-don’t you?’ Maisy said hopefully.
‘Well, only scraps of information,’ the little sister murmured awkwardly, ‘I’ve practically told you all of it, and most of it‘s just speculation, I‘m afraid. I’m sorry.’
‘But couldn’t you investigate it at work or somethin‘? Find some job reports and things?’ Guy enquired, desperate to come away with at least something.
‘Well-’
‘N-no, it doesn’t matter Nina, I d-don’t want to get you in t-trouble.’
‘But this could be the only lucky break we get, Maisy!’ exclaimed Guy, standing up.
‘I-It’s not that important. T-this plan probably w-won’t work out anyway - we’re just grabbing at s-straws…’
‘Then let’s keep grabbin’ until we get somethin’, eh?’
‘Um, can we-’
‘I-I’m n-not risking my sister’s job for a bit o-of mean payback!’
‘-just-’
‘I thought you were prepared to go through with this! That’s what you said before, right? All happy and rarin’ to go when we started, eh?’
‘-keep it down, because-’
‘I-it’s not definite - even if w-w-we d-did have the information - t-that we’d actually be able to d-d-do anything with it!’
‘-you’re probably-’
‘Oh yes, let’s be little-miss-pessimistic about something I came up with!’

Stanley sighed, and gave up trying to convince them to quieten down, sharing a grimace with Nina as they watched the two stewards continue to battle it out with each other, both red in the face and looking more frustrated by the second.

Beside him, the ladder suddenly began to rattle, and after a few moments a head popped up through the floor opening, a pair of curious eyes staring at the scene before them in bewilderment.
‘Uh…Mrs. Gladys wants to know what’s….goin’ on…’ Penny said uncertainly. ‘Is that…is that Maisy?’ she asked, eyebrow cocked and general expression screaming confusion.
‘Um…yes,’ Stanley replied, ‘and that’s Maisy’s sister, Nina, and another steward, Guy. Except things have got a little rowdy.’
‘I’ll say. We just suddenly heard weird muffled noises like shoutin’ comin’ through the ceilin‘, and well…it was weird.‘

‘Maisy please!’ Nina suddenly cried, intervening the rowing stewards and grabbing her sister’s arm and attention, ‘it shan’t be endangering me at all. I have full, legal access to records, for goodness sake most of them will be scattered around this room! Just stop it - I’m fine with getting you some information, just don’t start fighting again! I’m sorry I was so doubtful before - I’ll see what I can do. I’ll send word through Stanley or the post if I find anything. Now please! I’ve got a headache…’

The two recently quarrelling persons blushed and looked at her guiltily, muttering apologies like punished school children.
‘S-sorry Nina, I-I wasn’t-’
‘That’s okay, that’s okay,’ the small woman said frantically, waving her arms, ‘just settle down and…leave. I’ve still got work to do and no doubt you’ve things to do yourself. Thank you for coming and all that…I’ll get you your information…’

Red-faced, they both retreated, hesitating as they saw Penny, who hurriedly realised she was hogging the ladder and scurried back down. Eventually, they managed to get themselves out of the attic space, Stanley turning to Nina before he left with an apologetic smile.

‘I’m not sure where I fit in with all this - I’m only really here because I showed them the way - but thanks for your help.’
‘It’s quite alright, Mr. Morris,’ the accountant said with a sigh, ‘I’m glad to be able to help out my sister - especially if it means I can look at this Lansdale business properly. Those two journalists have even caused a few problems within the company, not just in the Halls and the all the other places they seem to have a grudge against. It’ll probably be easy to persuade a few fellow workmates for help - the Lansdale’s are taking all the fame at the moment, and no doubt many will be glad to see them go.’
‘As long as it doesn’t affect your job…’ Stanley cautioned.
‘Thank you for your concern, but don’t you worry Mr. Morris,’ she assured him, settling back at her desk amongst the high piles of paper and documents, pausing to clean her glasses with a neat square of cloth, ‘I know what I’m doing…
...just keep an eye on my sister and her fellow steward for me, would you?…’
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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
YAY SECRETS AND PAYBACK! :D I had to wait till morning to read this, I had a friend over. it was almost torture to wait so long! but it was worth it. :D
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Turnip05
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Very sorry for slow update - I've had lots going on at the moment with school, the new church, violin lessons - along with the fact I still had to attend the Guide unit I help out at on Wednesday night, and I've been dragged into a public speaking competition for Tuesday by my fellow classmates and a desperate english teacher...

:wacko:

Anyway - I managed to scrap this up in the spare time I was blessed with - enjoy! (I hope)



‘So, what’s goin’ on?’

Stanley blinked, and looked across from his position at the sink to Penny, who sat at the kitchen table with a lunch of bread roll and vegetable soup, swinging her legs under the table and watching at him expectantly. He gave a weak smile.

‘Just some family business between the Josephine’s and Maisy’s folks - hence the reunion of the two sisters. I don’t know much about it to be frank - I just met them whilst I was doing the gardening - and long story short, I said I knew where her sister lived and took her over here. That’s the only reason I was really up there in the attic with them,’ he lied.
‘She didn’t know where her sister lived?’ the young girl laughed.
‘Well, I heard them say it was the Gladys’ Lodging House nearby in the garden, and that they didn’t know quite where it was, so I spoke up and offered to show them the way.’
‘Oh, right. Then why’d you stay with them if it was none of your business? Bein’ nosey, eh?’ Penny teased, grinning at him.
‘No I,’ he blushed, ‘I just sort of got dragged in. I was waiting at the bottom of the ladder to see if everything was alright and I got invited up with Guy by Nina.’
‘You coulda refused.’
‘That would have been rude.’
‘It was even ruder to intrude on family stuff, surely.’
‘Nina didn’t mind - it wasn’t too private or personal.’
‘What about Maisy and Guy?’ Penny rallied on.
‘They didn‘t seem to mind either.’
‘An’ you’re sure?’
‘It doesn’t matter!’ Stanley said laughing, ‘stop dragging this out. They had some simple family dealings and they didn’t mind me listening in. Alright?’
‘But then why’d things get rowdy? They were talkin’ about gettin’ information an’ stuff when I came up.’
‘Yeah, information on…on owed money records,’ the young man managed to conjure up as fast as could, ‘the Josephine’s are quite wealthy you know? Gave a few loans out and stuff. A few of the records are still missing, and Maisy was just worried about her sister getting caught looking for them in old archives at her work and things. Guy didn’t see what the problem was, and well, you heard what happened after that…’
‘Oh, right. Okay then.’

Satisfied with her answer, Penny sat back and dug her teeth into her roll, chewing mindlessly and taking apart the rest of the bread to dip in the soup as she swallowed down her lunch, blissfully unaware of the falsehood that had just taken place.
On the other side of the room however, Stanley gulped down his tea silently, and tried not to look in the young girl’s direction.

He didn’t like lying to people - least of all Penny - but he felt it would do the girl no good to hear about another scheme for the Lansdale’s. To raise her hopes again when this new plan of Guy’s and Maisy’s was so full of risks and uncertainty, would be cruel, especially so soon after her own was so…unfortunately ineffective. Hopefully, the stewards would keep quiet about it at work and the girl wouldn’t find out - both that he’d lied and about the plan…

For a brief moment he heard the cracked voice of Nanny Coutt cackling in the back of his mind, reminding him of the time he’d lied to the Lansdale’s at that interview so long ago.
Well, at least it seemed long ago. When he actually thought about, it could only have been about three weeks, if not less since it all started and the articles began.

Then that means Penny’s been here… he frowned as he tried to get his head round the maths…a bit more than two months? Three months even?

He smiled at the child as he thought about this, remembering how she’d just been a troublesome little street kid that had come in from the rain at work, making up stories with him to fight against the Manager’s angry glare, hair and clothes scruffy, smelling of wet rags, but hiding it all away with her cheeky grin and bright, lively spirit.
Now she was like a little sister to him, someone he could tease and be silly with, but also someone close enough to feel protective about. Someone to want to keep safe.

And he was keeping her safe right? The Lansdale’s rumoured secret could be a dangerous crime - perhaps a reason for Tetra’s ‘issues’ as Guy had put it - and he wouldn’t want to endanger her or get her involved then, would he? No, he was doing the right thing - the less people knew about the plan in general, the better.
Assured by his thoughts, he tipped the murky dregs of his tea out into the sink, and washed them away, clinking the cup on the bench and wandering out through the back door into the garden.

‘Give ‘is a hand, my sparrow,’ Mrs Gladys called cheerfully as he stepped out onto the lawn where the older woman was bundling up the washing from the line, and dumping it in a large wicker basket at her feet. Shrugging he complied, needing something to do before he bothered to have lunch, and took down the nearest shirt, hooking the unused pegs along the straps of his braces to keep them out of the way.
Mrs Gladys chuckled at the sight as he came along towards her with an increasingly strange array of wooden pegs along his chest, and a pile of clothes slung over his arm.

‘Where’d you learn that trick, eh?’ she joked, as he dumped the clothes in the basket and un-pegged his braces, ‘or have you always had the mind of a useful housewife?’
‘Hey, I’m just being resourceful,’ he protested, ‘nothing wrong with that.’
‘Looks odd though,’ the old woman laughed, and turned back round to her side of the washing line.
Stanley smiled and took down another shirt, purposefully clipping the pegs on his braces again. This time he noticed they seemed somewhat more colourful, and glancing back down he realised that these ones were half covered in paint.

‘Francis got at your pegs, Mrs. Gladys?’
‘You what?’ said the old woman.
‘Your pegs are covered in paint - or at least these ones,’ Stanley replied, holding up the decorated victims.
She frowned, coming over and taking them from him. ‘He better not have…decent pegs these,’ she mumbled, ‘got ‘em for a bargain price at that place down by Woven Avenue…’
‘They haven’t left any marks,’ Stanley remarked, after checking the dull coloured shirt.
‘Good. I’m havin’ a word with that lad later on. Fancy stealin’ my pegs! Probably used ‘em to keep his work together on that crooked easel of his…’

The woman muttered along as she checked the other pegs for more paint, leaving Stanley to take down the rest of the clothes from the line as she did so. There were no more colourfully tainted pegs hanging up the left-over garments, but he often heard the odd cry of annoyance from Mrs. Gladys behind him, a click of wood signalling she’d tossed another into the peg bag aggressively.

As he finally collected in the last of the washing and bundled it on top of the other clothes in the wicker basket, Mrs. Gladys picked up the peg bag and turned to give him a questioning look.
‘By the way, Stanley, who were those people that went up to see Nina before? I noticed you came in and stayed up there with them…I’m just wonderin’ what you were seein‘ her for, her not usually havin‘ visitors…’

Stanley bit his tongue. Should he lie like he did to Penny again? Would that cause more problems? Or perhaps he just try and explain that he didn’t want Penny to know about it all…
‘I, um. Well…’
Maybe it would be best if he just said it was work stuff…except then if Penny mentioned what he’d said to her, and Mrs. Gladys said that she’d heard different, they’d both know he was lying. They wouldn’t know he was lying if he told her the same lie, but then, he’d only be lying to one if he told the whole truth…
‘…erm…’
But if he told Mrs. Gladys the proper truth then she might get mad at him and tell Penny, who’d also get mad that he’d lied, and neither would trust him, therefore making things even more complicated than they were getting now…
‘…they, um…’

Mrs. Gladys sighed at his hesitation and frowned, ‘what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?’
‘No, I just,’ he rubbed his neck irritably, glancing at the older woman, who just cocked her eyebrow in reply.
‘Just?’ she encouraged, gesturing with her hand for him to continue.

‘They were just people from the Hall,’ he said, giving in, ‘both stewards, Guy and Maisy - Maisy also being Nina’s sister. They wanted some information from her on…well on the Lansdale’s. Nina works for the Blue Willow Courier, you see? They talked to me when I was gardening about another plan - but not including the Manager - for getting back at the Lansdale’s for what they’ve done over the last few years, and since they didn’t really know where Nina lived, I took them here. I’m not really involved - I’m just a link for them to get to Nina.’

Mrs. Gladys seemed to process this for a moment and then nodded, slowly. ‘Right. Then what’s wrong with you tellin’ me that? Why the dawdling?’
‘Because…’ he shrugged uncomfortably, ‘because that wasn’t what I told Penny.’
‘Eh?’
He looked away and started rubbing his neck again. ‘I didn’t want her to get involved with the Lansdale’s again, you see? Not after her own little plan went wide of the mark. So I made up a story that it was just some family business between Maisy’s folk and Guy’s - seemed fine at the time to sort of, you know, protect her. Not get her involved. Now I realise, only a few minutes after, that it was a bad idea when more people are just going to ask about it...’

Mrs. Gladys frowned, and Stanley looked away.
‘You an’ your worryin’ - I’ve already told you to give her a little more berth than you give her, but still your holdin’ back. She’s ready if she’s gonna be disappointed again. An’ she wouldn’t have to get properly involved if you told her anyway - what could she do? She isn’t really involved if she just knows about it…’
Stanley sighed, ‘I still don’t want her to know.’
‘Well you’re just goin’ to hope that I don’t let somethin’ slip, lad,’ she said, shaking her head as they trundled back across the garden to the house, ‘’cause I’m not watchin’ my tongue for somethin’ you’ve got yourself into a twist for. Lies just make things complicated...’

‘I know,’ he murmured quietly, watching as Penny popped round the door and took the peg bag from Mrs. Gladys, ‘enough batty old women have told me that…’

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Woo
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Queen of all! bow before my might!
this story always chears me up. :D and its just as well it came when it did, now is the ideal time for a good story for me. :) I gotta thank you for sticking with this story even though you are busy. ^_^ you rock.
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Turnip05
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Aww, glad I cheered you up Woo ^_^ Thank you for all your comments! And everyone else - even if you just view :)

I feel as though I keep making excuses - but I've been ill lately *blarg* so sorry if this reads a little oddly - I haven't been able to concentrate very well :yfok:



Days and nights went by steadily as the weekend came and the new week began, Stanley working hard at his solitary gardening job every morning, and walking Penny home dutifully each night. The only unrest he felt through this new bland routine, was the suspense of not knowing whether Penny would come home from the Halls with accusations of his lies or not, his fear fuelled by the fact he would often meet her in the Hall during a conversation between herself, Guy, and Maisy.
However, she never spoke another word about the incident in the attic, and her lively chatting - whether in the house or outside - seemed to be focused completely on everything but.

The Lansdale’s were a different story however.
Monday passed by with a new edition of the Blue Willow Courier published in the window of the Breuw Street corner shop, it’s first and most important article delving straight into the night of the Barson Winter Ball, and essentially, the ‘Plan‘.

Whilst it never addressed the encounter with Penny and the others directly, it was certainly made clear that while Lady Beatrice and her husband hosted a magnificent ball as they did every year, the Renwick Banquet Halls were losing some of their customary shine.
Complaints of clumsy stewards, deaf waiters, and tasteless chefs were slotted neatly, and slyly amongst the compliments for the Barson’s eloquent entertainment, and well-chosen company.
They described a time when they had an ‘interval of confusion’ where it was explained that they had been taken out and ‘questioned about their presence’ by Renwick Hall staff, but were ‘apologetically’ lead back to the ballroom after the stewards realised a ‘mistake’ had been made.
Simple comments would innocently stand out - if only a little - from the rest of the text for any reader, cleverly subtle and most likely a technique reserved especially for events like the ‘Plan’, to quietly tarnish those who had upset or confronted them without bringing up the whole truth about their own immorality.

All this was unnerving people at work, Penny claimed that Monday night, as she sat on Stanley’s bed and watched him count out a bundle of notes to give to Magda. It was making them edgy.

‘Gloria was absolutely ravin’ about the part where they criticized her cooks, you know,‘ the young girl rambled on to her master, as was usual, ‘wouldn’t stop grumblin’ even when the Manager came to check up on ‘em all. Kept mutterin’ under her breath as he went past, choppin’ up her vegetables all aggressively an’ what not, makin‘ a big fuss. Or at least, that’s what I was told by Gordon…but then he don’t usually lie to me, so you know, it‘s probably true. Probably.’

‘Gordon?’ Stanley questioned with a frown, still counting out the piles of money as he spoke, ‘isn’t he one of the scrubber lads?’
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘Well, I thought you didn’t get on with them.’
Penny shrugged, ‘Gordon’s nice sometimes. It’s only Vincent who’s got a big grump problem with everybody.’
‘Ah, I see.’

There was silence for a moment, before Penny drew in a breath as if about to say something, and then blew it back out again with a shake of the head. Stanley looked up from his bedside table and cocked his head to the side. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ the girl said with a sad smile, and then quickly started up another conversation about the Hall and its staff, voice chirpy and lively again in an instant.

She would often go oddly quiet, Stanley found out worryingly over the next few days. Sometimes it would be when she would come into a room and find him there alone, a strange look passing over her face before she either walked away or started to speak. Other times it would be in the middle of a conversation - but alas, Stanley could see no connection between any of the topics or subjects she stopped so suddenly in.
In the end, whatever was bothering her so much seemed to fade away out of her mind before Thursday came, and to his relief, when he questioned her about the recent abnormal behaviour, she only laughed and said it had just been a silly notion that was now put at rest.

As well as the Lansdale’s and Penny’s weirdness over the week, he also got a package from Nina.

‘I hope you don’t mind passing it on to my sister, Mr. Morris,’ the short accountant said humbly as she handed a brown, flat parcel to him at his bedroom door, ‘but I’m pretty busy, and if I go home to see her I’ll be made to stay over tea and all sorts by my mother and sisters. I don’t see them much I must admit - but works very time-consuming for me, and I can‘t afford to be caught up.’
‘Of course I‘ll pass it on, Nina,’ he replied.
‘Thank you kindly. Actually, perhaps I could give to your little apprentice instead - she’ll see Maisy at the Halls, surely?’
‘Oh, um, well…I’ve actually decided not to tell Penny about this Lansdale business,’ Stanley said quietly, rubbing his neck, ‘not after her own little plan went wrong, so I really wouldn’t want to take any risks…’
‘Oh, I see. Well…you could just tell her not to open it - that it’s private from me to my sister,’ Nina suggested.

Stanley looked down at the seal for the package. It was only a lick and stick-down job, and could most likely be opened by careful hands or a paperknife without a rip or tear, then sealed back down with glue effortlessly. A child could do it - and that worried him.
‘I doubt she’d obey if I told her not to open it, quite frankly,’ he sighed, ‘she’s too nosy. I’ll just take it myself when I go to pick her up - it‘s no problem.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ the red head said, turning back out into the corridor with a grateful smile.
‘Of course.’
‘Then thank you again, Mr. Morris. I’ll see you later.’
‘Alright. Bye.’
He looked back down at the parcel and slowly closed the door behind him as the accountant walked away.

For a moment he allowed himself to wonder what incriminating evidence he held in his hand on the Lansdale couple…and then thought, what if it’s actually just proof that there’s nothing dubious about them at all?

He frowned worriedly at that last notion - it would be pretty disappointing, never mind bizarre to think there was no motive behind their work - and put the parcel on his bedside table…



Eventually the time came for him to pick the package back up again, and arriving at the Halls as was usual, he found Penny waiting for him at the entrance, fiddling with her cap and tapping her toes on the plush, fancily patterned carpet.

‘Hi,’ she greeted with a wave as he came up to her, pulling the cap back on her head, ‘what’s in the brown bag?’
‘It’s for Maisy from her sister,’ he answered, glancing around the foyer for the stuttering steward. ‘Incidentally, you haven‘t seen her about have you?’
Penny grimaced, ‘uh, your in a bit of a pickle there, Stanley. She’s on sick leave t’night. If you wanna give it to her, you’re gonna have to deliver it to her door.‘

‘What?’ he exclaimed anxiously, ‘but I don’t even know where she lives! I may as well have just let Nina do it herself…’

There was a silence as Penny bit her lip thoughtfully, and then quickly, her face brightened up.
‘Hey! I’m sure Guy said he knew her address once. And Opal - but I doubt you want to ask that rotten baggage…here, I’ll go search for Guy an’ get the address off of him, an’ then we can go play postman!’
‘Well-’
But Stanley didn’t have time to reply before the girl was off like a dart in the direction of the stairway.

‘O…kay…’ he said to himself with a chuckle, watching as she clambered up the steps briskly.
‘I guess all I have to do now, is wait…’

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