Chapter Two.

After scrubbing the dirt of my clothes until my hands were red and raw, I carried them outside in search of a washing line. The cold wind hit me like a wall as I stepped outside, and I struggled down the steps, arms full of dripping clothes. The washing line was situated around the far side of the house, attached to the stone wall of the house and a pole rammed into the ground.

But much to my surprise, there was already a girl stood there hanging out washing, humming a tune as she worked. Her long black hair was tied up out of her face by a startling blood red ribbon. She looked several years older than me, around seventeen or eighteen. Her eyes flitted up when I rounded the corner, but continued to work.

'You must be the new girl.' She said without looking at me.

'Yes, I'm Marion.' I replied quietly. When she didn't reply, I started to look on the line for a place to hang my dresses. However, she had clearly been out here a while, and so space was scarce.

'Put them down there, on that pile.' She gestured with her elbow towards a pile of wet clean clothes in a wicker basket on the floor. I scurried around the end of the line and quickly deposited the dresses on top. I then stood awkwardly by the pile, unsure of my next instruction.

'Are you going to just stand around all day, or are you going to help me?' She asked with raised eyebrows?

I snapped out of my daze, I was here to work, not stand about all day. I grabbed a handful of pegs and tried to find space to hang clothes up, to no avail. The girl sighed, and put down the clothes in her arms, and lifted a string tied to the wall and pulled it until the small loop on the end hooked over a notch on the pole, creating another washing line.

I quickly grabbed some wet clothes and hastily started to hang them up. So hastily in fact, that I knocked over the bag of pegs and they spilled all over the ground.

The girl laughed as I frantically scooped them up, my hands already hurting and tears began to prick my eyes. It seemed vastly unfair that she should make fun of me on my first day. It wasn't until I looked behind me and saw her picking up some the pegs, gently smiling at me, that I realised she wasn't making fun of me at all, she was just amused by my clumsiness. I placed the pegs in my hand back into the bag, and she did the same.

'You needn't looked so frightened, I don't bite.' I hadn't realised my face was pulling an expression of fear.

'Sorry, just first day nerves.'

'Don't worry, I can't go any worse than my first day.' She chuckled.

'Well, I've already dropped my dresses into a muddy puddle, in front of the Miss as well!' I told her.

'I was dusting out the drawing room, when I accidentally knocked over a candle that was lit by the window, and the curtains caught alight. I didn't know what to do, so I screamed for help, and the master came running in, and put it out with a jug of water. Ever since then, they have never let me forget it'. I laughed a little at this, I was not the only one who had been humiliated, and this made me feel slightly better.

'Everyone makes mistakes now and then.' She told me. 'Now, come on, this washing isn't going to dry itself, and I have plenty more things to be getting on with.' So I picked up my dresses, and began to work.

The rest of the day passed mainly without incident. I was shown to my room, which I was sharing with the servant girl from the morning, who I found out was called Jane. She was the resident house maid, and I was to help out in the kitchen mainly, and occasionally in the main house to light the fires, and to serve at larger social gatherings.

I was very happy with this arrangement, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of the family any more than I had already. As I placed my bag under my new bed, I kept thinking about the new adventure ahead of me. It is true that is wasn't likely to be an adventure like in the stories I loved so much, but this was the first time I had been away from home, and away from the watchful eyes of my parents, I was free to make my own choices. I did love my family dearly and I would be visiting them on my days off, however the promise of possibility excited me. I carefully removed the one book I had brought with me from the bag, it was the only one I had ever owned, and I had read it countless times.

The fraying red cloth cover felt familiar on the small table next to my bed. I could just about make out the title imprinted on the spine.

'Folk tales of Exodia'

I had memorised most of these tales by the time I was nine. These were the bed time stories I listened to every night, and the ones I told my siblings.

My own ideas for stories were scribbled on the back pages and the cover. One of my favourite ideas was the servant girl who fell in love with the prince at a royal romantic ball. The servant girl is accidentally invited, and she receives magical assistance from a fairy to help her to go. The prince and her fall in love at first sight, and have a wonderful evening, however the next day, the king believes in protocol and station and will not allow them to marry. The girl is banished from the kingdom, but the prince follows her over the seas, and they marry regardless, and the king is punished for denying true love a chance of happiness. They all eventually reconcile, and the royal couple lives happily ever after.

I quickly finished unpacking, not that there was much to unpack. I ran back down the kitchen, only getting lost three times. A stout small woman greeted me there, her ginger hair escaping her mop cap, and her apron covered in various food stains. She introduced herself as Mrs Taylor, the cook. I was set to work washing the pots and pans in the corner, and so the rest of my first day passed.

When I climbed the stairs back to my bedroom, I made a wrong turn somewhere halfway down the corridor, and came to a small wooden door. It wasn't locked, so I pushed it open out of curiosity and looked through. Inside was a very long and winding staircase leading up a tower. I guessed it lead to the attic.

Just then a large gust of wind swept through the tower and made me shiver with cold. I couldn't imagine anybody willingly going up there, it was too cold and dark. I shut the door and tried to retrace my steps, the corridor looked very different in the dark than it did in the light. I reached another door, slightly larger than the other one with a light shining underneath it, so I pushed it open.

To my amazement, there facing me was an entire shelf of books. Old books, new books, some covered in dust and some completely worn out like they had been read too many times. My mouth fell open as I gaped at it. I never knew anyone could possess so many books. I had only ever owned one book in my life, and there was no book seller in the village, my father had acquired it from a travelling salesman. My fingers ached to touch them, to see if they were real, and my mind wanted to know the stories they contained.

'Can I help you?'

My head snapped around, I was not aware anyone else was in the room. Sitting in the window seat, curled up under a blanket, was Miss Ella. The book she had been reading was left open on her knee and she gazed curiously at me.

'Oh, miss, I'm sorry. I got lost and-' I stuttered, attempting to explain myself.

'No need to explain, it's a big house.' She said kindly. After a moment of silence, she asked 'Do you like to read?'

'Yes, I love stories!' I exclaimed loudly, before I could stop myself.

'I like stories too, have you read this one?' she enquired.

I glanced at the spine of the book. It read 'The tales of Robin Hood.' I shook my head.

'I've only ever read one book,' I admitted.

'Well, you don't know what you're missing out on! Which book have you read?'

'The folk tales of Exodia.'

'Oh, that collection of fairy tales? No, you need to read more than that.'

I was slightly hurt by this, I loved those tales. But I was eager to read more, however I had never had the opportunity to.

'I don't have another book to read' I told her.

'Don't be silly!' She exclaimed, 'You can read those' She gestured to the bookcase behind me. My mouth fell agape again.

'I couldn't possibly! They aren't my books!' I told her.

'You live here, of course you can borrow these. It's not like they are leaving the house. And all they are doing at present is gathering dust. I'm sure they would be put to better use if someone actually read them.' I had to agree with her.

'Go on, pick one out' she urged me. I stared at her, and then slowly turned around to stare at the bookshelf. The endless leather and cloth bound books almost called to me, begging to be read, the stories they held wanting to be told. There almost seemed far too many to choose from, and to me, who had very little experience in this matter, the choice seemed daunting.

I continued to stare at the book shelf for a good while, attempting in vain to read the titles etched onto the spines, but that gave very little away about the content. Ella has noticed my inability to choose just one, so got up from her window seat to join me, moving her gaze over the books. She eventually reached up her left arm to grab a small book with the word 'Utopia' written on the side, it's cloth coloured an off shade of white, as though it had been on that shelf for many a year.

'It's not really a story book, it's more of a philosophical work, but very interesting all the same. I think you might find it intriguing.' She said, handing me the small volume. I stared at it, and thanked her.

'It's nothing, really. Go and enjoy it, and come back to me when you're done. I'd like to hear a fresh opinion of it.'

I thanked her again and dipped into a low curtsey. She laughed lightly, and I stood up mortified. 'There is no need for that!' She exclaimed. 'We're friends.'

'But, I'm a maid, miss. Shouldn't I be curtseying to you and your family?' I asked. My mother had told me before I set off that morning to always greet or thank a member of the family I served with a curtsey.

'Well, maybe before my parents, but I do not mind. I would much rather have a friend than a maid.' She told me with a smile. 'Now, go on, you should be going to bed, you've had a long day, and I want that book finished as soon as possible' She added with a giggle. I smiled at her and bade her goodnight, then disappeared back through the doorway I came out of, and hurried back down the dark corridor, clutching my newest temporary possession tightly in my hand.

I eventually found my bedroom, and saw Jane was already there, washing her face in the small basin by the window. I quickly placed the book down on the table and disappeared behind the screen to change into my night clothes. By the time I had emerged, she was putting out the candles.

'Please may we leave one burning?' I asked her. I desperately wanted to get started on this new book.

'Why?' she inquired, 'It's been a long day, you need to get some sleep.'

'I would like to read.' I answered her.

She sighed loudly. 'Could you not read it tomorrow?'

My face fell. Jane looked at me for a moment and then said, 'Alright, you can read a little, but you have to promise to blow out the candle when you are done, and not too late mind you! I will not be blamed for starting another fire again, do you hear me?'

I nodded silently, not entirely sure if she was teasing me or not. She then sank onto her bed and turned away from the candle. I sat on my bed, and eagerly opened the small book, and became absorbed in it.

I really did love to read.

A/N; This story is still a work in progress, it will be a long one, and any thoughts on it are more than welcome. Please leave a review if you have the time. Thanks for reading.