A/N: Thank you to Simon Samovar and Chelsietx for your reviews

***chapter 18***

***Misunderstandings***

Dear Diary

I hope you will be pleased to hear I am not dead and neither is Lizzie. It would of course be very scary if I were writing to you and I was dead, but when I breathed on the bathroom mirror this morning I could see my breath on it so you do not need to be scared unless you are frightened of bathroom mirrors and don't like to talk about them.

It got even more scary last night. The footsteps were getting nearer and nearer and there was still all this moaning and wailing and strange voices like a lot of ghosts were gathered together to have a chat and Lizzie and I were PETRIFIED. We didn't say anything in case the ghosts heard us, but we looked at each other and decided to make a break for it so Lizzie tried to pull open the door, but it was sticking – it does that sometimes because it has a loose door knob - and it rattled really loud and next thing we knew the footsteps were rushing towards OUR room!

I started screaming and pushing the door back with my shoulder so the ghosts couldn't get in and Lizzie was screaming – she told me later it was because she was trying to open the door and thought the ghosts wouldn't let us out. Then I changed my mind and thought it might be better to try and escape down the servants' staircase and get help so I was trying to pull the door open as well as Lizzie and then the stupid door thought it would be a great idea to open all of a sudden and I fell out because the sheet was tangled all round me and Lizzie tripped over the corner of the sheet.

I was so glad it wasn't a ghost, but Mrs Hughes was standing there staring at us and asked crossly, "What on earth are you both doing?"

I was shivering even with the sheet round me. It was freezing and I was still terrified and I had never seen Mrs Hughes so mad before. I don't mean mad as insane. Mrs Hughes is not insane. She does not howl at the moon or dig up dead bodies as far as i know.

She didn't shout, which made it even more scary. She just said in a very quiet voice, "I am very disappointed in you, Daisy, and you, Lizzie. Playing at being ghosts and putting a sheet around yourselves like this. It's a stupid, childish prank and particularly cruel and inconsiderate to wake everyone when poor Winnie is seriously ill. You should be ashamed of yourselves."

I couldn't speak, I just started crying. I was so upset about Winnie being seriously ill and about Mrs Hughes thinking we were playing at being ghosts! Lizzie asked if Winnie was going to be all right and Mrs Hughes said, "At this stage, we don't know. She has been taken to hospital and we can only pray for her. Now, go back to bed. I will see you both about your behaviour in the morning."

I didn't sleep properly after that and neither did Lizzie. I mean, I did fall asleep because the alarm woke me and I was all tangled up in the sheet again and the blankets too this time so it was a fight to get out. Lizzie was already getting dressed when I managed to untangle myself and she'd been crying, I could tell. She kept saying it wasn't our fault, how were we to know it was Winnie being a ghost and wailing and all and that people were running round to see to her and she didn't know what she would she do if she got the sack. I was worried about getting the sack myself, but I was more upset about Winnie, to be honest. I didn't say that because she looked really pale so I said, trying not to cry myself, "You need to stop worrying so much, you know, Lizzie. It's not good for you or the baby."

Instead of getting annoyed or laughing at me like usual, though, she just sat down on the bed and said, "Daisy, you need to do a little bit more than put your arms around someone to have a baby. I'll tell you later how it happens."

So she is talking to me like I am a little kid again, which I hate. I don't mean I hate any little kid in case you are getting mixed up. There are no little kids in the servants' quarters until Lizzie has her baby.

ps I did not get the sack. Well, not unless you count me getting the sack of flour in the kitchen. Lizzie did not get the sack either, but we got a terrible, terrible telling off and my nose and throat are sore from crying. I will have to go now. I only came up to my room for my hanky and I will be in awful trouble if I get caught writing in my diary, but I just needed someone to talk to and you always listen.