Week 3: A retelling of a fairytale

Scotland, 1947

Elsie Hughes sighed as she looked over the account books of her small grocery shop. She'd inherited 'Hughes' Household Goods' from her mother after her passing six months earlier and from the look of the figures it wasn't doing much better now than it was then. If Elsie hadn't been working her fingers to the bone trying to revive it, she wouldn't be so bothered, but it appeared she was fighting a losing battle. If this carried on, there'd barely be enough money to pay for Becky's nurse. If only the government would end the food rationing. The war had ended over a year ago yet the scheme was still in place.

The tinkling of the bell over the shop door and in bustled Elsie's goddaughter, Anna Smith. Anna's mother was a few years older than Elsie, but they had been good friends for many years. Anna, now almost sixteen, often helped out in the shop on a Saturday.

"Morning Aunt Elsie."

"Good morning dear," she said, moving around the counter to embrace the young girl.

"Everything okay?" Anna asked, eyeing the books suspiciously.

"Fine," Elsie lied, a false brightness to her voice. She closed the books. "Nothing for you to worry yourself about. How was school?"

She shrugged. "School is school. So what can I do today?"

"Can you change the adverts in the window for me. Here are the new ones to go in."

"Of course." Anna picked up the pile and shuffled through them, one particular poster catching her attention. "Oh, the ghillies ball. I can't wait. I'm so happy Ma has agreed that I can attend."

The new Lord of the Manor had decided to break with tradition slightly, inviting the villagers to the event, which was traditionally only for the servants and estate workers.

"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time. You'll have to tell me all about it."

"Are you not going?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Oh, but you have to go!"

"Oh, do I? And why's that, then?"

"Because the his Lordship has invited you."

"He's hasn't invited me personally. He's invited all of the village. I doubt it's of any consequence to him whether I attend or not. I've never so much as laid eyes on the man." The previous Earl had died from injuries sustained fighting in the war, leaving no heirs, so his cousin had inherited the title. But in the twelve months since his passing, his successor had visited the estate a handful of times.

"He's been travelling a lot – he's political; involved in the partition of Germany so I've heard."

"Most people round here don't even seem to like him – an Englishman coming in here as Lord. They're only going to satisfy their own curiosities." She didn't particularly care that he was English, she just didn't have time for posh people who couldn't care less about everyday folk.

"And aren't you curious?"

She shrugged. "Not really."

"Oh, but you have to come," Anna whined.

"No buts. There's far too much to do here and someone needs to watch Becky, besides I don't have anything to wear. Now, shall we get on?"

Anna knew better than to try and argue with her Godmother when she was in one of her stubborn moods, but she wasn't going to give up just yet. She would get her way and her Aunt Elsie would go to the ball.


Elsie was busy unpacking boxes in the store room when Anna arrived the following Saturday. She hadn't expected her today, assumed she'd be too busy getting ready for the Ghillies Ball.

"Aunt Els?" called Anna from the shop.

"I'm just in the back, I'll be out in a moment."

She stepped over the boxes and out into the shop to find Anna stood with a box of her own in her hands.

"Is that your dress for tonight?" asked Elsie.

"Well, it is a dress. And it is for tonight. But it's not mine. It's for you."

"Oh, not this again!"

She held the box out to Elsie. "You can't refuse. Ma and I stayed up half the night altering it. You can't let all our hard work be for naught."

Elsie opened the box and carefully peeled back the tissue. She lifted the dress out; a floor length, dusky aqua evening gown with a scalloped neck-line, and held it up against herself.

"It's beautiful, Anna," she gushed. "You've a real talent and I'd love to wear it. But…" she sighed, "there's still Becky."

"Oh no, I've sorted that as well. Ma doesn't really want to go to the dance, says it too soon after Da's passing, so she'll sit with Becky if you'll chaperone me. And before you say anything about how busy you are, I'll help out in the shop today too and then when you close, we can get ready – I can do your hair!"

"Well…" she sighed. "It seems you've thought of everything. My very own fairy Godmother."

Anna smiled. "Something of a role-reversal! So you'll come then?"

"Oh go on then. Why not?"


"Excuse me, may I have this dance?" Elsie looked up to find young John Bates holding his hand out to Anna. He was a few years older, maybe 18, but he seemed to like Anna. And she knew Anna liked him.

Anna looked to her, pleadingly. "Can I?"

"Go on then. But," she eyed John, "no funny business."

"I wouldn't dream of it Miss Hughes."

She watched as John led Anna onto the dance floor, a sense of sadness and longing filling her. The dance floor was full of couples. Connecting with the opposite sex seemed to come so natural to other, yet it was so alien to her. There'd only ever been one man who had shown an interest; Joe Burns, a farmer from the next village, but he'd run a mile when she'd told him about her sister and her needs. She bit her lip, as she was prone to do whenever she felt uncomfortable, and turned away.

With her head down she began walking towards the door, and didn't notice the tall man stood by one of the pillars until she collided with him.

"Oh!" exclaimed Elsie as she walked right into him. He was broad shouldered, with dark hair and warm, hazel eyes. Clean-shaven, and dressed immaculately in white tie; he had an air of confidence about him. Perhaps he was a friend of his Lordship. "I'm sorry! I… wasn't looking where I was going," she admitted. "It's been a long day. I think perhaps I am getting tired."

"Oh that's a shame."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a shame that you're tired; I was just about to ask you to dance." He smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we?"

She took it a little hesitantly and allowed him to lead her onto the floor. They moved silently around the dance floor, he smiling warmly at her, his large hand sprawled across base of her back, the warmth seeping through the material of her dress.

She couldn't help but smile as he twirled her around the dancefloor. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed dancing. It was an escape from the pressures of everyday life, or the worries and concerns; the shop, Becky. She simply enjoyed being close to the nameless man who, for some reason, had wanted to dance with her.

Soon, the song ended and he offered her his arm to escort her back to her seat.

"Thank you for the dance," she whispered.

"No, thank you. The pleasure is all mine," he replied. "Would you like a drink?"

Elsie fought down a blush. "That would be nice."

He nodded. "I won't be a moment."

Elsie looked around for a free table, and saw a young boy rushing towards her. As he got closer she recognised him as Anna's next door neighbour, William Mason. "Miss Hughes, there you are! I have been sent to collect you and Anna. You must come at once… It's Becky..."

Elsie paled and followed William out of the hall, a sense of dread filling her.


Lord Carson picked up two glasses of champagne and turned to make his way back to the beautiful woman he'd been dancing with – he really should ask her name - only to see her retreating form exiting through the door, pulling on her coat as she did so, refusing the help of his butler. Placing the glasses back down on the tray, he rushed after her.

But he was too late. He reached the main door just in time to see her climb into a car and drive away, leaving him alone and confused in the cold darkness of the night. As he turned to walk back inside, his eyes caught sight of something lying on the path. An earring. He knelt down and picked it up. It was her earring; he'd swear to it.

He wondered what had driven her away from the ball, and cursed himself for not asking her name. He pocketed the earring and returned inside to make some discrete enquiries – surely someone must know who she was?


A/N: I'm sorry for ending it here – this week has been really busy and I have had some personal stuff going on that has made writing difficult, but take heart – I plan to continue this for one of the other weeks. So this isn't the last we've seen of Lord Carson and Miss Elsie Hughes.