Words required:
managing, changing, writing, deciding, smiling, baking, liking, tuning, hoping, sliding, careful, peaceful, wasteful, achievement, replacement, advertisement, involvement, desperately, definitely, accurately.
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It was a bright, frosty morning. The pavement glistened like a carpet of crushed diamonds in the early morning sunshine .
A smiling Matilda O'Brien skipped along the pavement relishing the peaceful start to the day. Unusually, for a eight year old, she enjoyed silence more that chattering voices. Today was one of her favourite days in school, the day they got the subject for their homework writing task. She was good at storytelling, a vivid imagination born of listening to the housekeeping staff talking, tales cook would tell when she went into the kitchen to sample the days baking. She had a liking for the fresh biscuits cook made and the chocolate cake. Matilda had a sweet tooth.
At school Matilda had a large group of friends, all from a similar background. Matilda's father was a rising politician, although the youngster wasn't quite sure what that meant. Her other friend's fathers held similar positions in Melbourne, on the council or in the government and were often at the house for dinner parties, or meetings. Her mother told her, her father's involvement in these meetings was important to the people of Melbourne because he had their best interests at heart. Matilda was still confused but stopped asking the questions which both her parents brushed off while managing to bore her at the same time.
The subject of the writing homework this particular week was: 'To write story about a musician.' They were to write neatly, use proper punctuation and spell accurately, which would be an achievement for Matilda, she wrote too quickly to bother about correct spelling, as long as it looked right she was happy. The only problem with that, was that Matilda desperately wanted one of her stories to win the weekly chocolate biscuit her teacher awarded to the best story, and although her stories were often the most interesting, her spelling stopped her getting her hands on the prize.
She sat at the kitchen table with cook and the housemaid, Betty, while she wrote her story. It was the best place for her.
It had everything a good story should have, she thought. It was about an aspiring pianist who made ends meet by tuning the pianos of rich people (the piano tuner had been that day) and how he was hoping that one day his talent would be discovered. Cook smiled at the ideas that flowed from the child's pencil, Matilda would never make a concert pianist, she wasn't interested in practising. In her story the piano tuner saw an advertisement for a replacement pianist in a concert, and he tried for and was lucky enough to be given the job.
Matilda was happy with her story and asked cook to read it. Cook agreed it was a good story but suggested she write it out again, and she would correct the spellings for her. Mostly it was just the right letters in the wrong order. Matilda stuck out her bottom lip, re-writing was a wasteful use of paper and her time. But cook smiled and promised her two pieces of her favourite meringue dessert she was preparing for that night's dinner party.
Matilda's eyes positively gleamed and she did as suggested.
'Much better, Miss Matilda,' cook said and put in front of her one of the pieces of dessert. 'One now, dear, then the other after you've had your dinner.'
'Thank you, cookie,' the child picked up her spoon and tucked in, clearing the plate so well Betty said she needn't bother washing it.
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Matilda was not pleased that her parents were having another dinner party to which she was not invited. So between the end of doing her homework and bedtime she was bored. Her mother was busy changing, how long that took! She thought her mother was beautiful and wore such lovely dresses and she loved to watch how careful she was when she put her makeup on and the time she took deciding which lipstick to wear. Sometimes she would let Matilda have some on, but such a light touch she barely noticed it, so she would go off to play on her own, or read a book.
She was at the top of the stairs when she heard her father come through the door, she always got told off for running down to greet him and anywhere in the house, so today she had a better idea.
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Her bottom hurt after the smacking she got for sliding down the banister, but she wouldn't let her father see her cry. Each word of rebuke accompanied by her father's hand,
'Don't,' smack! 'ever,' smack! 'let,' smack! 'me,' smack! 'catch,' smack! 'you,' smack 'doing,' smack! 'that,' smack! 'again!' smack!
Martin O'Brien never did smack his daughter again, not that she changed into a good little girl overnight. Oh no! Deciding she would definitely not get caught again she grew up strong and sometimes defiant, choosing a career as a nurse over marriage to a young politician of her father's choosing and moving to Ballarat. She refused to answer to Matilda, preferring to be known as Mattie to one and all.
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Well, Mattie at eight...