The Horrid Household
Chapter V
Anna sat up, her head swimming.
Where was she? What had happened? The room came in to a hazy sort of focus. Anna felt strange, but she couldn't place her finger on the exact sensation. Perhaps she still felt a bit dreamy, as if her twilight hours, full of hopes and fervent wishes, were carrying over into daylight. She yawned and stretched. The sun outside the freshly washed window was bright. The sky was a robins egg blue. Her name was Anna Moon. And she was an orphan, who attended Ms. Morpheus's boarding school. She shook her head. Everything was as it should be. She pushed the strange little nagging in the back of her brain away. Nothing could make her unhappy today. For today was the day she was finally getting a home, a family.
Ms. Morpheus had made the announcement last night. How could she have ever thought that kind lady so scary? She had even taken Anna aside afterward, and told her, with a glint in her eye, that she would be getting a very special family indeed.
Anna's plain yellow dress lay neatly folded at the foot of her bed, along with a pair of white socks. The girl's loafers were lined up neatly in a row, from smallest to largest. Anna pulled herself out of bed, a smile on her face. She got dressed silently, as to not disturb the two other sleeping girls. Sitting on the bed, cross-legged, she plaited her hair. It was getting longer, she noted. The ends of her auburn curls came down past her shoulders.
She wondered if her new family would have sisters, or brothers. She wondered what sort of house they lived in. A large house would be wonderful, but Anna would be more than content with a comfy little cottage. With a small garden in back, she thought. And her new mother and father (for she would call them that) would be wonderful, kind, gentle-hearted people that would read to her every night. All sorts of books, but fairy tales especially. And they would give her beautiful dresses, for special occasions, of course, and she would get her first real pair of jeans, so that she could run around and climb the great trees in the large backyard without being afraid of ripping her nice clothes. And she would get a nightgown. A long, white nightgown with a pink ribbon around the neck. Anna sighed in perfect happiness, as she sat on her bed, putting her hair into pigtails, and thinking of the day ahead of her.
Soon, however, it was time to stop daydreaming. A knock came at the door. "Up an at 'em!" a ladies voice called from the hallway. Abby and Clarabelle sat up slowly, rubbing their eyes. Then, the reality of what today would bring dawned on them as well. The three girls chattered away happily as they got ready. Clarabelle flounced down on Anna's bed, to have her hair brushed as they talked. After Anna secured the blonde curls into two neat sections with blue ribbons, the happy group headed to the dining room for breakfast.
The rest of the children were already there, sitting around the table, talking animatedly about the parents they would be getting today. Several cooks came into the room, balancing trays of eggs, sausage and bacon, buttered toast, pots of tea. The sugar, milk and marmalade were already sitting of the table, along with several bouquets of fresh pink roses and white daisies. Anna took the crisp white cloth napkin, and folded it in her lap. Miss Morpheus was always so generous!
At this point, one of the maids came to the front of the room, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. The talking subsided. "I am quite sorry to inform you that your benefactress will not be here to see you off this morning. Ms. Morpheus has unexpectedly been called away on business." There was an audible groan from the small group. Tears even came to Clarabelle's eyes.
"We won't get to say goodbye," she wailed.
Anna handed her a slice of toast, with plenty of jam on it. "But think how happy you should be! You're getting a real family today! Ms. Morpheus wouldn't want you to be sad," she chided.
Clarabelle smiled a bit, and within seconds, was back to normal.
After breakfast, the children went to go stand out on the porch of the old manor house, to await the arrival of the parents. About 15 minutes later, the first car pulled up. Ella and Emma were brought over to a smiling lady wearing a funny long purple gown. She picked up one of the little twins, smiling as the girl laughed with glee. They waved goodbye from the windows of the car, which looked uncommonly spacious inside.
Over the next hour or so, Abby left with a tall man, and his wife, Thomas was picked up by a wealthy looking couple, Joseph and Nora were taken away by a pretty lady who'd arrived in a taxi, also wearing a funny sort of emerald dress. Anna looked about at the dwindling group. "Davy," she whispered, straighten your hair." Davy made a face at her, but attempted to smooth it down with a licked palm.
Charlotte and Sam were the next two to go, each to a kind looking couple. Everyone waved goodbye heartily, and hugged and kissed (in Charlotte's case, Sam cringed as Anna tried to plant a kiss on his cheek, so she settled for a hug). As they were pulling out around the drive, another car entered the estate. It drove slowly up the path, prolonging the agony for each and every child. Finally, it arrived at the front door, and a rather short lady with curly blonde hair, and a sweet smile, stepped out. She was wearing the same type of dress as the other two women, but in pale blue, and was carrying a baby in her left arm. Must be a new fashion, Anna thought. The maid asked the lady which child she had come for. The lady fished a scrap of paper out of her purse. "I'm here for Clarabelle."
How perfect! thought Anna. But at the same time, she felt quite sad. Clarabelle had a real mother now. She wouldn't need her anymore. Anna saw Clara shaking a bit out of the corner of her eye. She looked down at her, smiling. "Well, Clare, it looks like you get a chance to be the big sister now."
Clara hugged Anna. "I love you," she wailed into Anna's skirt. "Promise you won't forget me, ever?" She looked up at Anna with tear filled eyes.
"Of course I won't forget you, silly," said Anna, quite sensibly. But as soon as Clarabelle had left with the pretty lady, Anna felt a tear slide down her own cheek. She hastily wiped it away.
Anna was becoming quite nervous. What if they didn't show up after all? Clarabelle waved goodbye to Anna from the car window as it pulled away. Anna tried to smile, and failed, but she did wave back.
There were just four children left now. Matthew and Davy sat quietly on the porch, playing a game of cards. They seemed rather subdued, as each knew they would be losing the other today. Another taxi pulled round the drive, and Anna's heart leapt as the man and woman who got out asked for 'Davy and Matthew'. The two boys looked at each other for a moment before twin grins spread across their faces. "All right!" cheered Davy. After Anna hugged both the little boys goodbye, they hopped into the backseat of the taxi. They waved all the way down the long drive. Anna and Roger couldn't help but wave back.
Now it was just the two of them. They waited in silence for a long while. Roger sat, playing with his tie. Anna merely stared at her hands, neatly crossed in her lap. The sound of tires on the gravel of the drive made them both look up at the approaching car, then at each other. Roger spoke.
"Well, either way, I guess it's goodbye, huh? Might as well say it now."
Anna nodded, not knowing quite what to say. She vaguely remembered that there had been a time when she and Roger didn't get along. But now – now he was a friend. He extended his hand for her to shake, but she threw her arms around him instead, taking him by surprise. He separated himself from her grasp, and they looked back at each other, rather embarrassed.
The blue sedan pulled up to the door, windows tinted. Anna peered to try and see through the glass, excited for the first glance of what might be her new family. Slowly, the car rolled to a stop. For a moment, it sat there. Anna couldn't control herself any longer. She felt ready to burst. Then, the door swung open.
A very stout lady, with a large red purse on one arm, a small dog in the other, and a scowl on her face appeared. "Really, Alfred, you think after years of driving that you would be able to get closer to the curb!" Her scowl vanished as she turned to face Anna.
"Hello, my dear! You must be Anna!" The lady shifted the pug from one arm to the other, and circled Anna, gazing up and down at her. Anna felt rather nervous, as if she was being scoped out by a buzzard for an afternoon snack. "Well, well… yes, I see what Ms. Morpheus was talking about. Yes, you'll do fine." She grabbed one of Anna's arms. "Quite lean, but then the best workers usually are!" Anna opened her mouth to inquire what was meant by this statement but was cut short.
"Ah, yes, just sign here?" The maid presented her with the clipboard. She scribbled something absently, and added, "I am Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler, wife of Rupert Snydley-Pinkenweiler the third. Of course you will have heard of him." Anna was about to answer the negative, when she was cut off again. "Oh, come now, we haven't time to waste, no, wasted time is wasted money, into the car with you now…"
Anna was practically shoved into the backseat, and the door slammed promptly behind her. Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler got in, large end first. "Really, Alfred, you could turn the air down a decent temperature. It's so blasted hot." She fanned herself with a pudgy hand. Anna thought it was rather chilly, but she chose not to say anything about the heat. Instead she started –
"Now that I'm to live with you, and you're to adopt me, may I call – "
"Adopt you?" she laughed, a high tittering laugh. "My dear, I believe you are mistaken." -Another chortle- "Oh, no, dear me… Mr. Snydley-Pinkenweiler and I need someone to look after the little ones, and since our last nanny left, we placed an advertisement in the times. The dear lady who runs the home you were at answered it. Seemed quite delighted, in fact. Why?" she raised an eyebrow. "You were led to believe differently?"
"Ah, no Ma'am." Anna looked down at her hands, and swallowed a lump in the back of her throat. Why had this gone so terribly wrong? Was there some mistake? But no, Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler had told her that Ms. Morpheus had recommended her especially to this family. Well, for Ms. Morpheus, at least, she must be strong. She gazed back at the porch of the house where she had had so many memories. Roger stood on the porch, one hand in his pocket, the other waving goodbye. He looked so small, and alone. The car turned the corner, and Roger disappeared from view.
It was one of the longest half-hours in all of Anna's life, silently wondering where this had gone wrong. She was not going to be adopted, she was merely going to serve as a maid to this woman. She stared out the window, watching as trees and cows and countryside turned into mailboxes, and houses, and lawns. The car pulled in the driveway of one of these neat houses, all white gingerbread Victorians. This particular house looked larger than most, with a little cupola at one end, and tall windows on the second floor. The car dropped Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler and Anna off at the front, and went around back to park in the garage.
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler and Anna walked up the porch steps to the front door. It swung open, and Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler stepped in. Anna followed her, but stared at the butler. He was tall, gaunt and pale, looking like a specter from one of the more horrific fairytales she'd read. "Good morning Vlad," said Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler, cheerily. "I have a new nanny." Vlad merely nodded, and slunk off into another room.
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler seemed not to notice this. Instead she opened her mouth, and screeched out, "children!" Anna winced, but stopped to listen more carefully to the rumbling sound that seemed to come from above. It was getting louder by the moment. Then, shooting down the staircase, came several of the rowdiest children Anna had ever laid eyes on. One of the girls wailed "Mother, he hit me," and pointed at her brother.
"Did not!"
"Did to!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did no – "
"Children!" Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler smiled patiently. "Control yourselves. I have found a replacement for Miss Blaire.
The children all turned to Anna. The oldest two looked at each other, and frowned, and one of the younger two (who looked to be twins) burst out wailing loudly. The boy stomped his foot. "I want Miss Blaire back."
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler looked at him with an expression that could freeze water. "That lady," she remarked sticking her nose into the air, "is not worthy of the honor of caring for our family. I couldn't help but fire her. After all, she was the one impertinent enough to get engaged!"
The eldest girl, as skinny as her brother was rotund, looked Anna up and down with apparent distaste. "She's hardly older than we are."
"Well," snapped Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler, reaching her limit. "Good help is hard to find now days, especially what comes so cheap. Anna will be capable of all Miss Blaire was. She has two legs, and two arms. She can run errands. You do know how to care for babies, I presume?" she asked Anna aside.
"Er, well, ah… young children."
"Good. Rupert the fourth needs constant attention."
Rupert the fourth? Thought Anna incredulously, but she said not a word. Instead she concentrated her attention on the children.
The older boy and girl were almost Anna's age, in fact, the girl was about her height. She was tall, and rail thin, with long blonde hair pulled back tightly from her square shaped face. She wasn't pretty, Anna noted. In fact, she looked somewhat like a giraffe.
The boy, on the other hand, was shorter, and rather stout. His hair was also straight and blonde, plastered close to his head. The two younger girls were identical, and looked just like miniature versions of their mother. All four children had the same mean scowl, and each one was directed at Anna.
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler motioned her hand at the elder pair. "This is Alice (gesturing at the girl), and this is Charles. They are both six."
"No, we're not mum, we're seven and a third," glowered Alice.
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler shook her hand dismissively, dropping the loving air for the moment. "Whatever. And these two darlings," picking it up again, "are Lucy and Maud."
"Er, excuse me Ma'am, but how am I to tell them apart?"
Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler looked at her, shocked. "But you must see, they look nothing alike!"
"Oh," was all that Anna could bear to replied. Lucy (or was it Maud?) stuck out her tongue at Anna behind her mother's back.
"How old are you anyway?" retorted Alice.
"She's eleven," answered Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler. Anna saw no reason to tell her that she was actually only nine. Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler walked on. Anna followed her, and the children trailed behind.
"This is the kitchen. We already have a cook, so you won't need to be in here very often (except to watch after the children, of course. They always have too many sweets. Sometimes the cook is far below competent). Upstairs is the nursery and the playroom, where you will spend most of you time. Here, follow me."
They processed up the grand oak staircase. Anna looked about, thinking that she actually liked this house very much – it was the inhabitants that she wasn't sure of. Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler opened a door at the top of the stairs. "In here is the playroom. Each door leads to the children's bedrooms." It was a nice room, bright and sunny, with lots of windows. The walls were a pale yellow, and the curtains were white, with yellow ribbons tied around them. Toy boxes and tables with tea sets were scattered about, along with carriages, dolls, doll houses and stuffed animals. Anna felt as if she had entered a wonderful toy store. She had never had any toys, but had never missed them, because she had such a vivid imagination. At least, not until now.
One by one, she was shown the children's rooms. They were all similar to the nursery, with large windows, but the girl's were pink rather than yellow, and Charles's was blue. The nursery, where baby Rupert IV was sleeping, was painted blue also, but with white clouds, and little angels hovering overhead. "You like it?" asked Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler. "I had an artist come all the way from Italy to paint it." That, thought Anna, explained the tastefulness and beauty of the rooms. Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler herself was wearing a very loud dress, with a gaudy red square print, and jewelry that must have been glass instead of gems – the rubies were much to large to be real. Her make-up was also gaudy, and her hair was bleached white-blonde, but the darker roots showed it's true color as mousy brown.
She led them back out into the hall. "That," she said pointed a bejeweled finger, "is my room. You are to go in there only to clean. Up there," pointing to the end of the hall, "is the staircase to the attic, where you will be staying."
Anna eyes followed her finger to a flight of steep stairs. She squinted, sensing rather than seeing something in the darkness. Her eyes caught the gleam of two other eyes; deep, dark blue eyes, almost violet. She opened her mouth, and turned back to Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler, but when she turned back, the eyes were gone, and the door at the top of the stairs was slightly ajar. She shook her head, not sure if she'd only imagined the eyes, and followed Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler back down the stairs.
The rest of the day was spent listening to Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler going over the tiring schedule and rules for the household. She told Anna the days which clubs would meet at the house. On those days, she was to take the children to the nearby park, with the exception of Rupert the IV, as he was not yet old enough to be deemed offensive by the little old ladies of the Civil Society. Anna's head was swimming with important names, and dates, and who to or not to take phone messages from. She was very glad when it was announced that it was time for supper, and Anna was hurried out to the back porch with a sandwich and a glass of milk from the kitchen.
She sat there, drinking the last of her milk, watching the first fireflies twinkling in the twilight of the garden. It really was quite beautiful, she thought. If only all the Snydley-Pinkenweiler's would sleep all day like baby Rupert, she might like it here.
After finishing with the glass, she returned to the kitchen, washed it, set it back in the cupboard, and went out to the front hall. The Snydley-Pinkenweiler's were sitting in the parlor, watching the television, except for mousy Mr. Snydley-Pinkenweiler, who was reading the paper, and ignoring his wife's account of all that had gone on today.
"Ah… there she is! Children, follow Anna. It's time for bed."
"But I don't want –" Charles was silenced by a fierce look from his mother. The children followed Anna up the staircase, and didn't give her much trouble at all as they changed for bed, brushed their teeth, and said goodnight.
"Don't you want a story before you go to sleep?" asked Anna.
Alice scowled. "Stories are for babies." She slammed the door of her room behind her.
Anna picked up the toys scattered about the room (Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler had informed her earlier that one of her duties was to clean up after the children). When she was done, she let out a large sigh, and headed off up the stairs to the attic.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. But when they did, she let out a tiny gasp and hopped backwards.
Sitting on one of the two beds in the tiny room was a girl, just about Anna's age. She was small and thin, with a very pale face. Her jet black hair grazed her shoulders, and a fringe of bangs dangled above her eyes. It was the eyes that caught Anna's attention, however. They were large and round, and their color was a deep indigo.
Anna sat on the metal framed bed, staring at the other girl for several minutes. Finally, her voice returned. "Hello," she managed to croak out.
"Hello," the pale girl whispered.
"Who are you?" Anna asked. "You are real, aren't you?"
Anna thought she saw a small smile flitter across the pale girl's face, but after it passed, she was sure she had only imagined it. "Oh, yes, I'm quite real. My name's Linnea Grey. And you are Anna Moon."
"So it was you that was watching from the top of the stairs."
"Yes, it was me."
"Why didn't you come out?"
Linnea suddenly grew very interested in the pattern of her sheets. "Ma'am wouldn't have approved."
"Is she really that awful?" Anna asked in a hushed tone.
"Oh yes!" Linnea Grey's eyes flashed. "At first she just seems a bit self-absorbed. But she's wicked, she really is." Linnea even seemed surprised at this sudden outburst.
"How long have you been here?" Anna asked.
Linnea thought for a moment. "I'm not quite sure. I keep a calendar now, but I didn't when I first arrived from the orphanage. I don't even know what day today is. Or what day is my birthday."
Anna reflected on this with horror. Of all the things she lacked, at least she had a few solid facts to stand upon. She knew her name, and her birthday. And Linnea didn't even have that! It was unthinkable.
"What happened to your parents?" Anna finally ventured to ask, dreading the answer.
Linnea's eyes returned to the sheet. "My father is dead. And my mother is in a special hospital. She's insane."
"I'm sorry," Anna managed to choke out. How horrible! But at the same time, how very glamorous. Linnea Grey was straight out of the stories Anna loved to read. Even her appearance was beautifully tragic. This was something that Anna, with all her freckles, and brilliant hair, could never hope for.
After a long silence, Linnea looked up at her. "I'm glad you've come," she whispered. "Now I'll have someone to talk to. Sometimes, I think I'll go crazy, just like my Mum, talking to myself all the time."
Anna smiled. "Do you have any books?"
"Books? Heavens, no! Ma'am thinks I'm too stupid to read. I can – at the orphanage we went to school, and I got pretty high marks, but I haven't gone in a long time – ever since I came here."
"How can she get away with it though? I always had classes at my orphanage too. I thought it was required for children to be schooled."
Linnea shrugged. "Mister 'has connections', as she's fond of saying. Besides, I doubt anyone knows I exist. Except for you, now." Linnea ventured a small smile.
Anna smiled back. She gazed about the room, her eyes resting on the window. This tiny room reminded her of a story she'd read. "Have you ever read 'A Little Princess?'" she inquired.
"No, never."
"Oh, you would love it! I'll tell it to you if you'd like."
Linnea nodded, eyes gleaming. The two girls sat up, one telling the story, and the other listening in rapture. Anna told Linnea all about the poor little girl, who's father was believed to have died in the war, and how she was forced to work by the evil headmistress of the school she had attended. When she got to the part where the 'Little Princess' decorates the attic room with her imagination, Linnea stopped her.
"Oh! I do that all the time."
Anna stopped. "Really? What do you imagine?"
"Well, it's like the nursery. But nicer. And not yellow. I hate yellow now… no, it's always lavender. With white furniture, and a canopy bed like the one Alice has. And an enormous wardrobe, filed with the most beautiful dresses in the prettiest colors!"
"Really?" How odd, Anna thought. She had always wanted to wear pants, and had nothing but dresses. Of course, they weren't as nice as the one's Linnea was describing, but still – what a funny girl!
"So what happened?" asked Linnea, bringing Anna back from her thoughts.
"Well, then…" Anna continued her story. At the end, they were both quite tired, and fell asleep dreaming of beautiful rooms, and dresses and ponies.
* * * * *
In the morning, Anna awoke with a start. For a minute, she forgot where she was. But then Linnea rushed by, already dressed in her neat white blouse and her jumper. Anna sat up, and rubbed her eyes. "Good morning."
"Oh!" Linnea whirled around, hand on her chest. "You startled me, I thought you were still asleep. I'm so late," she wailed, hopping on one foot as she pulled on a long white sock.
"But it's hardly light yet."
"Mr. leaves at 6:00, and he expects his breakfast on time. Oh, he wouldn't do anything," she added, "except tell Ma'am, but she would be very upset. Where's my shoe? Where's my shoe?" Linnea ducked down under her bed, searching frantically. She retrieved the mary jane, and quickly buckled it. "Don't worry, the children don't have breakfast until 8:00, so you don't have to get up."
"Are you sure you don't need any help?" asked Anna, concerned.
"No, I manage," she replied, rushing out the door, and down the attic stairs.
Anna couldn't return to sleep after that outburst. Instead, she got out of bed, and went over to the wardrobe. Inside, were five more outfits like the one Linnea had been wearing. Neat black jumpers, and starched white blouses. Anna took one from the hanger, and put it on. It was a bit big on her, but not as large as it had seemed on Linnea. She sighed, rolling up the cuffs that came to her fingertips. She folded her yellow dress, and placed it on the top shelf. She decided to examine the rest of the room.
It was small, and dark, with a low ceiling. A single window looked out on a neatly trimmed lawn, with rows of hedges and neat flowers. They must have a gardener, Anna mused, because Mrs. Snydley-Pinkenweiler didn't look like the type who would labor over rows of plants on a warm, sunny day. Anna turned back to the room. It was sparsely furnished, with two camp-style beds, the wardrobe, a nightstand, and a single chair. On the back of the door was a chart. Anna went to look at it more closely.
Saturday – Laundry
Sunday – Take the children to the park
Monday – Clean the downstairs (dust, polish, sweep, etc.)
Tuesday – Clean the upstairs (the same)
Wednesday – Snacks for the Bridge Club
Thursday – Grocery Shopping
Friday – Snacks for garden club every other week,
and dinner party last week of each month
Every day – All meals to be made and served, breakfast for Mr. at 6:00, Ma'am at 7:00, children at 8:00. Lunch to be served promptly at noon. Dinner at 6:00 sharp, except every last Friday of the month, when the children eat at 5:00, and dinner is served at 8:00. Dogs to be fed at 12:00 and 6:00, taken to be groomed every Thursday. Children to have exercise and play from 8:00 to 12:00, studies from 1:00 to 4:00. Bedtime is 8:00 sharp.
Anna shook her head. How had Linnea been doing all of this? Anna rummaged in her bag, found a stubby bit of pencil, and wrote at the bottom – all to be shared by Linnea Grey and Anna Moon. Then she headed down the stairs to go and help her new friend.
A/N: Sorry this one took so long. I'm trying to get at least another three chapters in before summer break, when I'll be away from the internet until September. *Gasp! Sob!* This is where I actually start liking this story, though it hasn't even really begun yet! I promise to finish the first part over the summer, and post the entire story, with corrections, in the fall. Thank you all so much for the reviews, and your patience! ~ Lili J
