"Thiz drress just von't do!" shouted a girlish voice from inside the dressing room.
"Oh…" sighted Mrs Turner looking desperately to the maid who was standing right next to the door hiding the dressing room and holding an enormous pile of different coloured dresses. "And what is wrong with this one, Verona, dear?"
The door Mrs Turner was staring at flung open and a young figure of a woman in a pair of high-heeled shoes burst into the room. She was dressed in what looked like a bright pink pillowcase and had locks of her pitch black hair sticking out the bun perched in the very top of her head.
"Can't you tell?" she yelled with her heavy French accent, almost hurt by the unnecessary question. Actually, Mrs Turner knew exactly what was wrong with that dress…the owner! (And the fact that it looked like a potatoes' sack). However, she shrugged with a smile. "It'z itz length!" the girl explained; her expression superior as she was about to reveal the biggest find of the century. "Madam Suzette zaid ze latest fashion in London is to vear shorrterr drresses so zey only scrrape ze floorr, but 'ide ze feet all ze lame!"
"Same." Corrected Mrs Turner quickly.
"Vat 'ave I zaid? Zame!" Verona insisted.
"Anyway, dear…" Mrs Turner continued rising from her armchair with a sigh. "About the dress, I believe Anita will be happy to take care of that for you, won't you Anita?"
The maid looked absolutely frantic as words failed her.
"Anita?" called Verona.
"Of course, miss." She said. "Everything you want" but before she disappeared with Verona behind the dressing room's door, she cast her mistress a look of anguish.
Mrs Turner left the two of them in the dressing room and headed for the one in the far end of the opposite wing. She felt bad for leaving Anita alone with the "French goblin", but she hardly could be there herself: hearing Verona's voice was truly giving her a head ache, so she kept on walking.
The noise of her steps was muffled by the music coming from the floor below where dozens of voices whirled in a cloud of sound.
Elizabeth merely glanced at the bight light coming from the great hall before facing the gloomier corridor and the door she was looking for. She raised her hand and knocked.
"Come in." Came the response from inside the room. Elizabeth turned the knob and opened the door gently. A familiar face beamed as it realised it was her.
"Hello stranger." He said, walking towards her and hugging her tightly.
"Ready for battle, soldier?" Elizabeth asked as he loosened his grip. He let out a witty laugh.
"I say, mother, you are the most pessimist person I ever recall meeting!" he joked.
"No, I'm not!" she retorted. "You know I'm not! But this whole Verona subjects is just…too much!" Elizabeth confessed, sitting on her child's bed.
He smirked wickedly.
"If I didn't know you better, mother, I would swear you are jealous of little Miss Bree." He teased as he sat beside his mother.
"Good thing you know me, then!" Mrs Turner laughed. "And you just say those things, Harry, because you never had to listen to her going on and on about the most…idiotic, frivolous things you could ever imagine!" she confessed. Harry sighed, amused.
"She's not that bad, mother, seriously. She makes me laugh!"
"Oh, Harry, everything makes you laugh!" Elizabeth pointed out abruptly. She let out and annoyed breath. "She has nothing to do with you, honey. Why did you insist on accompanying her to YOUR birthday ball?"
Harry smirked again with malice playing in his smile.
"Do you really want to know, My Lady?" he asked naughtily. Elizabeth widened her eyes with curiosity. "It was a bet" he said quickly. "Plus, she is eye-catching!"
"She was a bet?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. Harry nodded, smirking. "You made me listen to her pecking all day long aver a stupid bet?" she exasperated.
Harry let out another laugh. "She always declines all invitations! I was the first one of my group to get her to accept something! Everybody's just going to pass out!" he said, proudly, as he got up. "I'm a national hero, Mrs Turner!"
"Well…you'll be a dead one if you try to do this kind of thing again, understood young man?" she threatened.
"Trust me mother: after this one, it's all downhill from here." He joked giving a small kiss on his mother's cheek.
"I sure hope so, Harry James Turner. You better learn how to behave fast because you're not getting any younger, my boy." She said standing up and stoking her eldest son's dark, messy hair with the tip of her fingers.
"Mother, today is my birthday! Let me relish the marvellous ball that you and Father planned in my honour and postpone the inner growth, will you, please?"
"Harry, Harry…" Elizabeth sighed again. "You will have to grow up eventually, you know?"
"Yes. Eventually, yes! Not tonight." Harry rolled his eyes as someone knocked firmly at the door. "Come in." he said. The door opened and a tall, clever-looking boy appeared in the doorway. "Nicky!" he greeted. "Join us!"
"Father was wandering where the two of you were" Nick sneered. "He's getting a bit cranky, right now. I reckon we should all go downstairs to the party before he starts arguing with Grandfather again."
Elizabeth widened her grin as she approached the second of her three children.
"You reckon well, dear. Your father shouldn't be left alone with mine for more then five minutes." She agreed placing her arm around Nick's. "What about your sister? Where's Christine?"
"Oh, she's outside in the garden. She's probably just playing with her friends. Either way, Chrissie's fine; it's Grandfather you should worry about. I think he already had a bit more of Scotch than he ought to." Nick tried not to laugh at the memory of his grandfather losing his wig for the third time that night.
"Good old Grandfather! Always ready to light up the party!" mocked Harry with and evil grin as he and his brother started roaring with laughter.
"Don't talk about your Grandfather like that, Harry!" reprehended Elizabeth, holding back a smirk and getting out of the room. "Let's just go downstairs before your Father starts fuming!"
"Yes!" Harry concurred while closing the door behind him. "And before Grandfather blacks out into the lake."
"Harry!"
Author: thanks for the reviews! so...should I continue?...