Warning: graphic content
The next morning when the girls awoke to see Merope on the floor the fun seemed to die. That morning none of the girls spoke to her, and barely spoke as they rushed to finish breakfast. Merope was late coming down since she wanted to take the time to do a special braid for her first day as an employee for the Riddles.
In the time her father and brother's abuse ended with their arrest and her magical abilities finally came into full effect she worked hard to fix her bizarre eyes. She still knew that she would always be plain, and had accepted this fate, and styling her hair made her feel better about herself. It took her years to become self taught but refusing to give up she was pleased at what she could do. Today, she had done a Celtic style she had seen in the illustrations of one of her families history books. Her long hair was braided on each side of her head, the middle was left free, and she finished by tying it in a ponytail.
It came in handy as she worked outfit with Ivy scrubbing the bed sheets in giant wooden bucket resting on a medium size table.
Madam demanded the clothes we washed in boiling water, to kill any gems that got on them during the week. With such a clean house, Merope doubted there was any, some of the sheets had not even been used since they were from guest bedrooms. Nevertheless, she along with Ivy did as they were told.
"Shit...," Ivy muttered under her breath as she pulled back her hand as some of the hot water splashed on her when she tossed in another sheet.
Merope looked up with concern. "Are...are you alright?"
"Yes, it's not my first burn," she said rubbing the stinging skin. Ivy went over to one of the large buckets that was filled with lemon juice and rosemary, Madam's favorite smell. Merope walked over and picked up the second and the both began walking around the giant bucket pouring in the liquid. The smell of fresh hit their nostrils, but their eyes began to water.
Merope took one of the laundry ores and began helping Ivy mix everything together.
"This maybe the last time we wash with this stuff for a while," Ivy said picking up the hand washboard.
"RoseMary should have stopped growing a while ago," Merope stated since she had spent many hours in the woods forging for whatever she needed at the time. "I wonder how she managed to get some much."
Ivy looked at her with her nostrils slightly flared as her lips became an unyielding line. "Really, you're asking how..." she points to the manor. "That's how."
"I...I'm sorry, please ignore me, I'm stupid so..."
Ivy walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It was sarcasm, I promise...is this your first time being a sister?"
Merope stiffed as a cold sweat came over her, just the thought of her brother horrified her. Could he and father come back at any time? No, no one just walks out of Azkaban. No, one just escapes Azkaban. But how long did they have? She was never told, the men just took them away, wished her a good night and that was it. She heard nothing again.
"I...I have a brother. We...we didn't get along," she says looking down getting back to her scrubbing.
"Well, now you have sisters to get alone with but warning, we are going to mess with you sometimes," she laughed softly before smiling kindly.
"That...that makes me happy," she smiled slightly before looking down. "I guess, their money comes in handy for Madam a lot."
"Far more than she appreciates," Ivy said moving her scrub board to the middle of the giant wash bucket so they could continue to talk and work.
"We can talk but we can't stop working at all," Ivy said glancing up at the second story window. "If she sees us wasting time, all hell breaks out. She lashed out on Josephine a few weeks ago."
"What happened?"
"She was working in the garden, she keeps up with all the beautiful plants and flowers you see growing around, and she also plants all their vegetables. One day Madam saw her pause her work to give someone who was passing by directions. Josephine, cried several times after the verbal lashing and threats of violence from Madam."
"How did she find out?"
"She always does. Madam either has eyes on all sides of her head, or she has spies watching us."
The scrubbed the sheets that now were smelling like tea. Ivy had to pause sometimes slightly because of the hot water and the burning from the lemon juice. Merope noticed the tiny bumps on her fingers, that seemed to be filled with liquid, and the rash around them. She made a note to try making her some scream the hands that so often itched.
"Does she hate us or fear us," Merope said baffled.
She had come to this house for some freedom, and she was now realizing she was in the same position when her father and brother were around. She knew the Riddles would not be easy to please to learn they had spies watching over her and the others made her skin crawl.
"It's a mix of both. She is a snobbish miserable hag, but I can understand the fear," she said turning the sheet over to wash the inside. "Maureen told me, years before either of us were working here, honestly I believe at least you and I would have been toddlers, Madam learned about a brutal murder that happened in Lambeth, London."
"A servant killing their boss," Merope guessed based on the conversation they were having. "That would scare anyone."
Ivy looked at her but kept scrubbing. "A murder is putting it mildly...," she said and her eyes made Merope understand she was about to hear something disturbing.
"Well, tell me...," Merope didn't know what to except but her curiosity was just far to strong.
"From what I was told, it was this middle aged widow, who hired this alcoholic woman..." Ivy thought for a moment. "I don't remember the names but the widow fired her and told her to leave the house and the maid killed her. Then cut her up, turned her into lard, sold it, and dumped what was left in the river."
Merope stood there with her mouth open in shock. All her life she had been told that all muggles were evil, and in such a short time the girls showed Merope this was false. Now she was learning from them a ome muggles, in fact, are actually evil.
She thought of all the things her father and brother had done to her. The beatings, the verbal abuse, using her for spell practice, and even the sins her brother forced on her. Yet, she still could not fathom doing something like that to them.
"That's...that's so heartbreaking to hear," Merope said sadly as she tried to keep her focus on the washing but to no luck. "Why would she do that?"
Ivy gave her a troubled expression and then one of sadness.
"Have you been a maid before now," she asked as they quickly lifted the sheets they had been washing and hung one on two of the several clothing lines. Then quickly went back to work to scrub another each.
"Maid to my family," she states. "I...I did everything in my family since my brother was my father's favorite."
"I'm sorry to hear that but...," she sighs. "Being abused by your family is horrible but being abused by someone much better off than you is different. From what I was told, the widow wasn't cruel but she couldn't keep maids long because she was so eccentric and hard to please. Unlike Madam who is set in her ways the widow would change her mind how she wanted things and then get upset at her maids for not being able to basically read her mind.
The maid, again from what I was told, had no education, lived her whole life in poverty, stole to survive, and tried to change her life after being released from prison for stealing. She thought working for the widow would do that but the widow was impossible to please and as a religious woman she condemned the maid's alcoholism, and when the maid was fired it was just another example of failure so..."
"Basically, she snapped," Merope stated to reveal to Ivy she understood that there were two sides to the story.
"Yes, and no...," Ivy said as placed the next set of sheets on a clothing line and begin scrubbing two more. "The killing was her snapping but what she did after...I don't believe was about covering up her crime, or hatred of the widow. I believe it was the hatred for what the widow represented to her. The upper class, the well off, whom she had always hated."
Ivy frowned thinking of the poor victim, because not even Madam, who was actually abusive to her and others, deserved that. "When you have been a maid for a while, you will never support what the maid did, but you can see how it happened."
"Except the last part," Merope stated. "I think you can agree that no matter what you couldn't do that to another human."
"No of course not," she quickly added. "Us maids are labeled useless, we couldn't amount to anything better and for her to fail at even being a maid...she snapped but to do what she did after I believe it's clear she much sicker than you or I could ever be."
Merope and Ivy washed in silence for a moment as Merope still contemplated all she had heard. She thought horrors only happened in her home, but the reality that evil lurks everywhere was troubling.
"I can understand Madam's fear, but I think she is miserable more than anything...," Merope laughed slightly. "And she believes she has everyone fooled."
"That's why they have such lavish parties," Ivy said noticing one last sheet in the bucket. "I'm going to get the towel quickly, so you mind finishing this one?"
"Of course, I can," Merope nodded kindly as Ivy went inside to gather all the towels from each bathroom. Merope knew it would be some type before Ivy came back, so she begins to hum a melody until words come to her.
Oh child, can you hear me, where the cold winds sigh?
I speak from the earth, where you left me to lie.
I trusted too easy, I see that now,
A foolish old woman with a heart too proud.
Merope stopped for a moment and wondered if this was wrong of her. To take a tragedy she had just learned and use it to escape silence. Maybe not but was all she could think of. For so long she believed the world outside her home was perfect and loving, and horrors only echo from the shack, but today she had learned there is evil and horror that walks outside the shack too.
I know life was cruel, and it hardened your heart,
No schooling, no silver, no kind words to say.
The bottle ran dry, the days ran you thin,
You fought and you failed, again and again.
Tom and Cecilia road their horses back to the manor after one of their romantic horse rides. They returned home to the manor to make the meeting he had planned with his parents. He felt so torn about his coming responsibilities. He wasn't a kid anymore, and if he wanted to keep the family name great it was going to take more than his looks. Though he doubted they wouldn't help him.
"I enjoyed today, next time we should stay out later and I can make with food for us," she smiled as he helped her off the horse.
"Putting it in the basket and not your maid counts as cooking now," he teased her with a small smile.
"It takes a lot of talent to pack something nicely."
After the ride, they were both rather hungry, and he suggested going in through the servants door in the back since it lead down a hall to the kitchen. As they reached the side of the house he stopped when he heard the familiar voice. Silently he peaked around the corner and saw Merope doing the washing.
Perhaps I was foolish, perhaps I was blind,
To think I could reach you, to think you'd be kind.
Or was I a lesson, a mark in the sand,
A ghost that now lingers, still holding your hand?
Oh child, can you hear me, in the night so deep?
Does my voice ever haunt you, or touch you in sleep?
For I wonder, my dear, as I lie down below
-
Did I seal my own fate? Or were we both made to go?
Cecilla looked at his expression and could tell once again he was mesmerized by this Gaunt tramp. It enraged her, and when he looked in the corner of his eyes he noticed her sour expression. He was mentally kicking himself since this wasn't the first time this had happened. He took her hand and kissed it in an apologetic manner.
Her expression did not change and he knew he was going to have to get himself out of the dog house.
"Why do you do this every time that bitch opens her mouth," she said in a cold tone. "You act like you have never heard a tramp sing, there are plenty of them all around England."
"I listen to anyone sing. Why is it..."
"No you don't, Tom! I've seen your parents parties, your friends, even Frederick who had one of the most popular singers in England and you just sat there without a care."
"Cecilia, darling, you know she means nothing to me. How could she look at her and look at you. Do you actually believe..."
"Then why, do you always stop to listen to her. What is so special about her."
Tom was silent for a moment because he had no answer she would like. It was true, he loved Merope's singing.
"She isn't special to me, you are. I don't know why, I guess because, she isn't faking it. I've never heard her sing a positive song, but her voice proves she isn't faking it to play with people's emotions. She is honest."
When Merope turned to place the sheet on the clothing line he noticed her hair. The braid was very unique and pretty, he couldn't deny it. though he would never be foolish enough to say it.
"Oh well, that just makes it completely understandable," she rolls her eyes and began walk to the back of the house.
When Merope turned back around, she finally noticed them and jumped slightly in surprise. She curtsied respectfully to both. Tom was silent for a moment but he doubted he could get in any worse trouble so he took the risk and walked over closer to her.
"Was that a new song today, Merope," he asked leaning on the giant bucket in a slightly smug manner. He couldn't deny never having to do chores in his life was phenomenal.
Merope kept her head down and nodded. Ivy came back outside carrying two baskets of towels, one under each arm. Merope rushed over to help her, and gently tossed them in the steaming water careful not to splash him.
Ivy curtsied to both but said nothing. In fact, Merope noticed she was annoyed because Ivy knew how smug both Tom and Cecilia could be to the maids. Worst of all was they couldn't defend themselves.
"It is a chilly morning, you must feel so lucky to have a chore to help the shivers," Cecilla said with a smirk, holding back a chuckle at Ivy's annoyed reaction.
"Of course, Lady Cecilla," Ivy fake smiled and began scrubbing a towel.
"What made you think of it," he asked Merope stepping back a bit when the steam from the water became too much as he completed ignored what Cecilia's mocking. He wasn't above doing the same but for now he had no interest. "It was such a dark song."
"A story, I was told," she stated simply still not looking at him. "I just make up songs to help the silence," she said placing a few towels to the side so she could ring them out in a moment.
Cecilia looked over Merope. Tom was right her eyes had changed and she didn't look like a walking corpse anyone, however, the eyes solved little to nothing for her plain appearance. Next she noticed Merope's hair and hated to admit it stood out and even worse she liked, but she didn't want Merope to feel anything positive.
"Merope, that's your name," Cecilia said sliding one of arms into Tom's and then took his hand locking their fingers. She knew Merope was smitten with Tom, and Cecilia wanted Merope to remember she would never stand a chance against her.
"Yes, my lady."
"Such a unique name for such a unique looking girl," she stated and gave her a judgmental look over. "The braid did you do it?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Such a talent, it gives people something nice to look at around you," she smiled with a small chuckle. "Guessing you are getting ready for a night out with the other girls."
"No ma'am, I just like doing braids," she says adding another towel to the pile.
"Such a shame, if you do decide to go out and find a fella, I suggest a lot of night dates. Those would fit you best."
Merope bit the side of her cheek, and held everything back. She wasn't going to give this girl the satisfaction of seeing how much her words hurt. Merope knew she wasn't pretty, and she never claimed to believe she was; why did Cecilia feel the need to insult her on such a personal level?
Tom noticed Merope's expression and believed he could tell what she was thinking. She didn't understand why Cecilia was singling her out and low blowing her so much. Once again the feeling of guilt came over him. Realizing she was being hurt because of him once again, and it bothered him. He hated that it did but he couldn't fight it.
"Come along Cecilia," Tom said pulling her away gently to get her inside.
Tom and Cecilia began to walk inside as Louisa was walking out the servant door with Dorothy on her hip. She curtsied with respect and wished them a good afternoon. Once they were behind her, she rolled her eyes. Other than Madam, Cecilia was the most hated person in the Riddle home, and all the girls were thankful she didn't live there. At least for now.
"Alright, girls, I've got the steam presser ready for the sheets and the iron should be ready soon," Louisa said with sweat poring down her forehead. "Once we get them dried and folded you will be free."
Ivy smiled and began to joke dance shaking her hips. Dorothy watched and laughed and began copying her causes Ivy and Merope to laugh and Louisa to smile a bit. Dorothy's face lit up when she saw Josephine walking over with her arms held out. Josephine didn't take the time to speak just gave a wave to Louisa who nodded and she then took Dorothy with her to the garden.
"Alright, Merope please take down the sheets, it's chilly and windy enough so we need to steam press them and I'm going to show you how."
Merope nodded and grabbed a large basket taking each sheet down and rolling them up gently into the basket.
"Ivy, don't forget to ring out the towels before bringing them in so we can..."
"Woman, does it look like this is my first time with laundry to you," Ivy said cutting her off sharply but the two looked at each other with no malicious. "Do we have to have this talk every Saturday."
"Alright, you wild brat," she rolled her eyes. Louisa knew Ivy was a hard worker and she loved her but the closure Ivy got to having her weekend free time the lower the quality of her work became. She loved Ivy, but resented having to finish her work because she was to excited to pay attention. "Just bring them in when you're done."
Merope followed Ivy inside the house and down the hall to the stairs they head to the laundry room in the basement of the home.
"I heard Madam, is trying to get a new machine for clothes drying so this job might get easier," Louisa says taking one of the cold moist sheets out of the basket. "The steamer is pretty easy to use, it's best to always have it on a medium temperature and count to 30 between each pressing."
"That seems easy enough, how do I iron because..."
"You don't iron," she started sharper than she meant and when she noticed Merope's uneasy expression she sighed. "Sorry, what I mean is...the iron is not as easy as it looks. For a while we used one that you placed on a small flame and slowly ran the iron over things...it was so difficult to not burn anything. These electric ones are not much better so Madam made us go back older model."
"I understand, the last thing I want is to cause trouble for myself and others," Merope stated as she began to work on steaming the clothes.
She was silent for a moment and then got up her courage. "The girls are going out tonight. Are you as well?"
"No, I get to go out two nights a month. It's fair, but I wish I had a bit more freedom," she says slowly and lightly running the hot iron over one of Madam Riddles dresses. "Maureen watches Dorothy for me, but while I enjoy getting out the girls can be a handful."
"I was wondering," she says counting to thirty in her head. "I'm not going out would it be alright to help you with Dor...the bundle," she said referring to the nickname given to the little girl by the others.
"Of course," she smiled a bit. "You heard the others she belongs to all of use...until it's the weekend. I'm glad you will be staying I would like for us to talk for a bit."
Merope smiled a bit and pressed down harder than last time but soon a bad smell happened and she quickly opened the machine and grabbed the sheet. "Aaaahh," she cried out slightly dropping the hot sheet to the floor. It had been awhile since she had actually felt the pain of a burn. Maybe the hot water and lemon juice she had been scrubbing with all day made the skin on her hands more sensitive.
Louisa rushed over and took her hand to the small sink. It was old and rusty but it was the best they had.
"I didn't burn it did I...," Merope said in a panic going to pick it up but Louisa stopped her and made her keep her hand there.
Louisa picked up the sheet and noticed a tiny discoloration but sighed with relief. "No you got it out just in time and I don't think Madam will notice if we tuck the side into the bed," she folded the sheet and put it on the ironing board.
"I'm really sorry, I thought..."
"Listen, you can't let your excitement for whatever reason distract you. It is not Madam's nature to be forgiving if you mess up. She may not fire you, but you will become a target. Especially next week. We are not exaggerating when we warn you about her."
Louisa gave her a gentle expression of a big sister. "In this house, it's us against them, and they will always have the upper hand."
/
"The first first decision I make as Madam of this manor, off that tramp goes back to squalor where you found her," Cecilia said still enraged.
Tom rubbed his eyes with his fingers a bit and sighed. Sometimes he wondered if she really was actually upset. He had noticed a pattern, she would act heartbroken and betrayed, but the second he bought her something it was as if nothing had happened. Now here she was, without them even being engaged yet, telling him how she was going to run his home.
He had the feeling for a while she may love him, but she loved the benefits that came with him more. It was clear she believed he was going to spoil her like his father did his mother, but what she ignored was his father didn't do it out of love or worship of his mother. No, he did it to simply keep her content and quiet while he carried out his extramarital activities.
"While I respect your boldness my dear, it shall be some time before I am struck down," Mary said walking into the room with Tom beside her. Her expression was one of contempt. She thought publicly Cecilia would be perfect for her son, but privately she her feelings were anything other than negative.
"Of course Madam," she said curtsying apolitically with embarrassment that Mary had heard her words. Her and Tom were not set to marry, yet, this could have been detrimental to her if she had upset Mary enough.
"Well, it's good to see my son has learned to show up on time. Maybe now he can learn to show up prepared with an idea."
Tom who was sitting in a chair, leaning on the left arm, rolled his eyes. "It's hard to have a plan when I have no clue why I am here father."
"Exactly! That is the problem, if you would have been paying attention as in structured then it would be clear why you are here."
Tom reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a metal container he held cigarettes and a liter inside. His mother didn't like the habit but she never protested. Tom was eighteen now and in the words of her husband he was "my child now". She had done her job to bring him up the best she could and now as an adult it was time for him to learn the Riddle business and time for her to back off.
"Give me a clue and I will..."
"We are becoming a laughing stock because of our boring parties," Thomas said sitting behind his desk leaning back in the chair. "The time of themed balls is over, and the people want something more."
"Well father, I believe it's an easy fix," Tom said taking a puff of his cigarette. "People still love plays, but now people want parties of dancing, drinking, being allowed to be wild once in a while. The proper older generation is dying out and the new era of roaring fan is beginning."
"What do you suggest," he asked hearing his son out believing he might be on to something.
"There are many bands we can hire to play at parties and we can change them up often. Give the people something fresh but also familiar enough to be comfortable. You should have plenty of time on your business trip to look for talent...," Tom said added a little jab at his father. "I'm sure you will have plenty of free time since your trip is a week but the meetings are only a few days."
Thomas glared at his son and glanced at his wife who was hiding a bit of a smirk. He hated that his son was no longer a young fool.
"Very well, let's see if you understand anything other than being spoiled brat," Thomas said standing up walking out the room.
The whole time Cecilia sat in silence as a cruel thought came to her mind. She laughed slightly out loud and then placed a hand to her mouth. "Sorry, I was remembering something funny."
/
Author note:
Hope you enjoy and leave me a comment letting me know what you think.