A/N: I had been hoping to update on Thurs, but my laptop broke and I'm still not sure whether everything on it has gone! Anyway, I managed to find this on my emails, so here it is :) Please let me know what you think! Also, I apologise if it sounds rushed. I've had a very busy and stressful week!
Thanks to dionne dance, Maricella, lina love and the guest for reviewing. I always love to know what you guys think :)

The next day, Angelique awoke with bleary eyes to her mother leaning over her, shaking her hard.

"For goodness sake, Angelique, it's as though you didn't sleep last night! Now, lève-toi! The family will be up soon, and you still have to go for your walk," she shouted, and Angelique forced herself to wake up.

"Yes, maman." She got up, her eyelids heavy and her limbs aching. Perhaps sneaking out had been a bad idea after all.

"What is wrong with you? You look dreadful, are you ill, child?" Lucille sounded frustrated as she frowned down at the girl.

"No, maman. I had trouble sleeping last night, that's all," she whispered, looking at the floorboards.

"Well, a walk will do you good. Now hurry up and get dressed." She turned away as Angelique got up and grabbed her dress, not wanting to anger her mother any further.

She washed and changed in record speed, and even her mother was surprised, although she didn't mention it. Instead, she didn't even look at her daughter as they walked out of their room and into the grounds.

It was a reasonably nice September morning, the grass was fresh with dew and the sun was just rising, casting orange light across the lawns. In fact, the only thing spoiling it was the nippy breeze whistling through the air that caused Angelique to shiver slightly as she huddled closer to her mother. She was finding it incredibly hard to keep her eyes open as they trudged round their usual route, watching the dull brick wall as they went past, then the beds full of dead flowers that had been so beautiful in the summer and the same old pond with no fish in it. Nothing ever changed.

When they were finally back in the warmth of the kitchen, Lucille left Angelique in the care of the cook, who the young girl had taken an instant liking to when she was younger, whilst she went and readied herself for the family calling on her.

The cook was a large, friendly woman, with messy brown hair always tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She continuously smiled and beamed at everyone, but you still didn't want to get on the bad side of her. Angelique could remember once when she could hear Martha's shouting all the way up in the attic it was so loud.

"Breakfast, Angelique?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron and turning to the young girl sat at the filthy wooden table.

"Yes, please." She smiled sweetly at the woman as she brought over a bowl of gruel, something Angelique had gotten used to the taste of over the years for she never got anything else for breakfast. She savoured each mouthful of the lumpy liquid, knowing she wouldn't get anything else until lunch, which was still over six hours away.

She was just scooping the last dregs into her mouth when her mother came through the door, dressed in her crisp white apron and cap, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, making her look more severe than ever.

"Are you finished, Angelique?" she asked, and then, not even waiting for an answer, whisked the bowl away and tugged the spoon from her grip. "The bell's just rung, now would you go up to our room and continue with your sewing, I'll come and check on you later. I expect that cross stitch to be done today, and something done about those eyes of the cat, they look dreadful."

"Yes, maman."

"Good, well, go on. No one wants you hanging around here. You're just in the way."

Angelique hung her head and muttered an apology.

"She's not in the way, Lucille. She probably gets lonely up there all alone," Martha put in. "She's alright to stay down here a few moments."

"No, Martha, she has a lot to be busy with. Go, Angelique. Now," she added, putting her hands on her hips when the young girl looked at her.

"Of course, maman," Angelique sighed and walked back up the stairs.

She found her sewing and sat down, ready to delve into another day of the same old same old, when Sèraphine's chirping sounded in the air. The young girl looked up excitedly, having completely forgotten the bird was still in the room as Sèraphine fluttered down and landed on her shoulder.

"Hello," she murmured fondly. However, Sèraphine twittered and swooped over to the window, hopping to look back at Angelique, who was frowning in confusion. Then it came to her. She wanted to go outside, but the window was shut. "Oh, I see."

She ran forward and, after quickly checking behind her, climbed on top of the wooden crate and reached up, this time being careful not to get her dress dirty. She opened the latch and pushed it open and, as soon as it was wide enough, Sèraphine took off, flying out into the weak sunshine and chirping as she dived downwards and out of sight.

Angelique wasn't too disappointed as she drew back from the window, she knew the little bird would be back before long, and so she settled down again, picked up her sewing and started to unpick one of the eyes.

A few hours later, Angelique had re-sewn the eye, and, even though it was still slightly wonky, she had made a start on the cross stitch her mother had requested. This particular stitch bored Angelique, it was so tedious and she ended up unpicking at least one every two or three she did.

Yawning, she stretched and put her sewing to one side as she got up and walked over to the window. Sèraphine hadn't been back, but the young girl had spotted the darting red and yellow bird out of the window a few times when she'd looked up.

The sun was high in the sky now, signalling that it must have been about midday. Her mother should be up in the next hour, she thought, to collect her for lunch. Her stomach rumbled at the thought.

She gazed off, her thoughts wandering to meeting Master Barnabas the night before. She had liked him, once he had shed his authoritative manner, and it was nice to have someone to talk to that was her own age. She certainly couldn't wait for the next meeting with him. It was going to be hard to contain her excitement around her mother, that was for sure.

Sèraphine tweeting in her ear had her jumping in shock, nearly falling off the crate. She had never heard the little bird come in. She took her arms of the ledge and smiled at the little thing, but it refused to move, continuing to nudge its head against the girl's arm. It was then she noticed that she had something tied to her leg. On closer inspection, Angelique realised it was a piece of paper that was tied with string and finished off in a little bow. She frowned as Sèraphine held out her leg to her.

"What's this? Who's it from?" she wondered aloud, half to herself, and half to the bird. Sèraphine only looked at her, so she pulled one of the loose ends and the string came unravelled.

Stepping down from the crate, she opened the paper and frowned. A few lines of a scribbled scrawl were jotted down on the paper. Angelique squinted, trying to distinguish the letters, and make the sounds her mother had taught her. The first word was easy.

"Angelique, w-hat are y-o-u do-ing at the mo-men-t," she started slowly. "I am…" She got stuck at the next word, for it was very long, so she frowned and tried splitting it up. "in-cred-i-bl-y, incredibly, bor-ed. Fat-her has m-e doing… a-rit-h-mac-y." Angelique stopped again. What was arit-h-mac-y? She was sure she hadn't said it right, but she had not a clue what it was and there was no one to ask.

She looked back to the bottom of the letter. She was pretty sure she knew who it was from already. As she sounded out the name, she got her confirmation. Barnabas.

Angelique knew where the quills were kept from when her mother was trying to teach her to write and dipping one into one of the bottles of ink, she started to write a reply with wobbly letters.

Barnabas

I am triing to sew a cat that mi mother iz making mee do, but yor noot has distracted mee. I am loking forwood to Thusday

Angelique

She sat back. She knew her mother would spot the many mistakes, but she didn't care, in fact she was rather proud of it and it wasn't as though her mother was going to see it anyway.

She skipped back over to where Sèraphine was waiting and tied the message to her leg before sending her off again. After she had disappeared, she cleared away the quill and ink and went to see if she could spot the little bird coming back. Of course, that was when her mother returned.

"Angelique Bouchard, are you deaf? Did I not tell you just yesterday not to climb on that crate?" she admonished, her hands on her hips as she watched her daughter scurry down and hang her head.

"Sorry, maman."

"Where's your sewing? Here?" She bent over and picked up the scrap of linen, her critical eye wandering over it, her eyebrows raised. "Well, it certainly is a lot better now you've sorted that eye. Is this the cross stitch? There's not a lot of it considering how long you've been up here."

"I keep getting it wrong and having to unpick it, maman. Je suis désolée."

Lucille sighed. "It comes with practise, Angelique. Practise and focus. Focus is not watching out of the window. Now, come on, before I decide that you should be practising more cross stitch instead of eating lunch." With that, she turned and walked out as Angelique hurried after her.

After she had finished eating, Lucille sent her back up to continue with her cross stitch with a threat that if she had not done enough by suppertime, then she would go without again. Sèraphine didn't return that afternoon either, and Angelique began to get anxious that something had happened to her.

When her mother returned once more, and had said Angelique had done enough to be able to have her supper, the girl went down with a heavy heart, worried Sèraphine had been killed by a cat or something. However, nobody seemed to notice as they ate. They were all too busy laughing, relieved another day was over and that they could rest for a few hours.

Finally, they retired for the night, and Angelique wearily following her mother back up to their room. Going in, Lucille picked up her nightgown, intending to go into the bathroom before the other maids got up. A chilly breeze brushed over them, making her turn back.

"We are going to be cold in our beds now that you've left that open, Angelique. You need to think, girl. Now close it."

"Sorry, maman," Angelique whispered, and walked over to do as she'd asked. She was just about to pull it shut when a tweet stopped her and Sèraphine flew down and landed on the window ledge. The girl pushed away her relief and beckoned the bird inside before shutting the window. She noted the bird had no reply on its leg, yet her note had gone. It seemed Barnabas must not have been able to reply.

"Shh, my mother will be back in a moment, make sure you're not seen," she told the bird and fetched her nightgown to be ready when Lucille came back. The little bird did as she was told and flew up into the eaves.

"Who are you talking to, Angelique?" Lucille's voice asked as she walked through the door.

Angelique jumped. "Oh, just myself."

"Perhaps you are too lonely if you are talking to yourself. Now go get ready for bed. You were tired this morning."

"Yes, maman." And with that, she went to wash and change.

Soon, she was ready for bed and after a light scolding from her mother for not being fast enough, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the thin pillow.