Stories of a Lonely Girl

We got off the horses, and let them drink to a little pond. Then, we walked to the front of the residence. The door was huge and so imposing. My brother pushed one side of it, I thought I’d never have the strength to do that, it seemed so heavy! We went in a beautiful entrance. Paintings, tapestries adorned the walls, a long carpet recovered the ground. There were statues of marble. On the right side, amazing stairs of stone headed for the first storey. Right in front of me was placed the trophy of a stag and under it, another splendid door. I was impressed.

We went through that door, I stared at the stag passing under it, I felt like it was going to get alive and run on me. We entered the saloon. A middle-aged lady was having tea. She was holding her cup in a certain way that made me laugh: he little finger was up though the others were holding the handle of the teacup. That was quite funny, I smiled, but the woman gave me an angry look.

“Oops” I though.

“Isabelle, why are you late for tea time?” she said.
“I found her in the garden Mother.” Answered my brother for me. “She said she was bored.”
“Bored? Young Lady, how many times have I told you not to frolic in the garden, this is not appropriate for a young lady.”

I smiled again, it was exactly what my brother had told me.

“Is there something funny? You almost missed your piano lesson. I wonder when you’re finally going to be able to play.”

She turned to a domestic.

“You can let him in.”

A young man, rather skinny, came in. He had a hat on his head, and a weird moustache. He coughed.

“Good afternoon Mrs Crawford.”
“Good afternoon Mr George.” Replied my Mother. “You must recognise my son, William.”

She pointed my brother. So his name was William. The piano teacher looked at him.

“Of course, how couldn’t I?”

And they shook hands.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again Mr George.” he said.

The teacher seemed to blush but nobody except me noticed it.

“Maybe we should let that lesson start, shall we?” he went on.
“Of course you didn’t come to chat around, my son and I will go while you try to make my daughter learn something out of that instrument!” exclaimed Mrs Crawford.
 
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So the two members of my “family” left the room. I felt really uncomfortable with that man. He looked really young, almost like a boy whose voice hasn’t even broken yet.

“Have you worked on what we did last time Miss?” he asked with his shrill voice.

I knew I played the piano pretty well so I dared nod.

“Well show me if you have done some progress, as your mother said before, you’re not my easiest pupil.”

I took a look at the partition. “For Elise” by Beethoven, of course I knew that music, I didn’t need to look at the paper, and I started playing, I knew it by heart. My fingers were slipping on the keys. When I finished, I looked at Mr George, he seemed really impressed.

“Miss Crawford, I can’t believe it! I’m very proud of you!! How did you manage to learn that piece in a week?” he exclaimed.
“Hum… Well… I don’t know, I worked hard on it… And it’s a beautiful piece, so I guess it made me want to play more this week… ”
“Well if you could surprise me like that every time I came, I’d be the happiest teacher ever!”

Suddenly his voice seemed shriller than before more like a woman’s voice. He coughed.

“Well then, since you know this one by heart, let’s start with a new one. What about Turkish March, by Mozart?”

I already knew that one, but I kept pretending.

“Sure! Why not?”

He played it to show me and we started working on it. I had a lot of facilities which made Mr George happy. He pulled out his watch out of his jacket.

“Oh dear! It’s already six o’ clock!”

He stood up.

“Miss Crawford, it was a pleasure, I’m really proud of you, I guess I’ll see you next week.”
“But… Why don’t you come sooner? Like tomorrow or the day after that?” I asked.

I didn’t know if it was appropriate. He took a little notebook, I guess it was his planning.

“Well I’m free the day after tomorrow at three o’ clock. If you work hard, I guess I wouldn’t mind come more. Now I’ll just have to ask Mrs Crawford.”
“I’ll go get her. Wait for me here.”

What was I thinking? I didn’t know the house, and it was huge? How was I going to find my mother? I saw a domestic.

“Excuse me?”

The young girl looked at me.

“Yes Miss?”
“Could you please get Mrs Crawford? I ignore where she is and Mr George would like to tell her something.”
“Of course Miss Isabelle, she’s in the library, I’ll go get her.”
“Thank you.”

This servant seemed really nice in her black dress with her white apron; she had blonde hair, attached with a little white head-scarf, all of it bordered of lace. She had pink cheeks and green eyes. I thought she was really pretty.
 
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oh ok :p:p but no there's not romance between Isabelle with the students, but this part will be longer than the first one :) it'll last a couple of days ;)
 
I came back in the living-room. Mr George was sitting on the piano chair, he didn’t hear me coming and started playing. I didn’t know that piece, but it was beautiful. I had never met someone who played the piano that well. I closed my eyes and felt like I was flying. The thin fingers of that young man, of that boy, were dancing on the keys. He did amazing arpeggios, and the piano sound was incredible, better than when I played of course. He finished on a chord. I coughed.

“Oh! Miss Crawford! You were here!” he almost screamed.
“Mr George, you play so well when you’re alone! Where did you learn how to play the piano like that?” I asked.

Mr George didn’t say anything, I wondered why. Mrs Crawford came in.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me dear?”
“Mother, is it possible for Mr George to come the day after tomorrow, so he can teach me more?”

Mrs Crawford was perplexed.

“Excuse me, do I understand you want to play the piano more often?”
“Exactly Mother! Wouldn’t it be great?”
“Well…” she thought and she went on “I’m really surprised, but I don’t think it’d be a problem if Mr George came twice a week. Would you mind coming more often?”
“Of course not! It would be a pleasure, I was very proud of Miss Crawford’s work today.”

That was too much for Mrs Crawford, she almost fainted.

“Are we talking about Isabelle? My daughter who hates playing the piano?”
“Hum… I was surprised too.”

My mother laughed.

“Well, well, well! It’s perfect, I guess we’ll see you on Wednesday then” she said to Mr George.
“That’s what I understood. I’ll come in two days Miss Crawford, I hope you’ll work as hard as you did this week.”
“Liz, could you take Mr George back to the gate.” she addressed to the domestic.
“Of course Mrs.”

And Mr George left with Liz. Mrs Crawford smiled at me and went out by an other door. I looked around me and thought I’d visit this splendid house.
 
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After the experience my Mary and I had sending our Annemarie to piano lessons, I can strongly identify with Mrs. Crawford's feelings. ;)
 
I took piano lessons for 3 years, and that's true, my mother was always pushing me because she wanted me to work hard, but since I loved that, it wasn't a proble m:)
 
I went through the living room, the heels of my boots made a funny sound on the wood floor. I crossed a door and went in a game room.

There were so many beautiful toys. A table with four chairs was installed next to a big window for tea parties. On one of the chair was sat a beautiful doll of wax. It had long, blonde, and curly hair. I remember when I used to watch those things through the shop window, and always asked my mother to buy me one, but I never got one. I took it in my arms, her clothes were amazing, they were pretty fancy: lace, silk, rustle … When I put it in a horizon position, the eyelids automatically closed; it had long eye lash. I put it back on the chair, and looked at the tiny tea cups, they were in porcelain and there were little red roses on it. I smiled, my cousins and I used to play at tea parties when we were five.

This room brought back so many memories. I went neared the big window and looked outside, I saw a little way which seemed to cross a little wood. They were wild strawberries along the little path. I thought I’d go in the garden later and taste those pretty fruits which seemed delicious. I turned around and looked at a rocking horse, it was made out of wood, painted in brown, with a blonde mane, just like the horse I previously rode. Next to it, a doll house was placed on a table of stone. I looked inside of it and noticed all the details of a normal house, the fireplace, the big clock, the taps, the wardrobes, everything was perfect.

I opened a little door in the wall, and discovered a little corridor. I crossed it and came in the entry I had come in previously. A succulent smell of cake attracted me top the kitchen. I saw two domestics, one cooking and one coming in and out, with forks, knives and plates. I guessed she was putting the table on.

“Oh Miss Isabelle! Mrs your mother asked us to make some cake for desert tonight, she told me I could choose which kind of cake, and so I picked apple crumble, with a slight juice of chocolate, I know it’s your favourite!” said the domestic who was cooking.

She had like every other domestic I had seen, a black dress, an apron, and a head scarf. I thought she was about fifty. She had a soft and chubby-cheeked face and seemed really nice.

“Perfect! You know me so well.” I replied. “When will we eat?”
“Oh Miss! You know we always ring the bell for your dinner!”
“Of course.” I smiled at her. “Well then, I’ll wait for the bell.” and I went back in the entry.

I thought I’d go upstairs. The banister of the stairs was also in stone. I laid my hand on it, it was so cold. I continued walking on every step. On the first landing, a huge mirror was attached on the wall. I looked at me. My hair was a mess. I tried to redo it. I was exactly like in real life, but I seemed prettier. I looked down, I was standing on a beautiful carpet. So many beautiful things! This house was like an enchanted cave, full of treasure. Arrived on the first storey, the corridor seemed like the gallery of a museum. There were so many pieces of art, I could spend time watching at those. There were also little cabinets of glass so I could see what was inside of them: silverware, swords, coat of arms of the Crawford family …
 
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I opened a door aimlessly and came in a bedroom. A bed was centred on the wall, with a bedside table on each side. Above a fireplace I saw the portrait of a woman, she looked a lot like Mrs Crawford, but I knew it wasn’t her, her hair was darker than my mother’s, she had big green eyes and thin lips just like her whereas the woman’s nose was bigger. On the left wall, there was the same big window as in –apparently – every room. I looked down, and saw through the glass the horses drinking the water of the little pond. A little door in the corner attracted my attention. I opened it, and discovered a spiral staircase. It was one of the two towers, I felt a draught.

Brrrr, I was going to need something to wear over my dress, it was a little cold. I turned around, and opened the wardrobe that was next to the door. I saw a pretty grey jacket, and took it. I heard the clock ringing, six already? I came in the tower and closed the door thinking I wouldn’t be too long, what if I didn’t hear the dinner bell?

“Oh whatever” I thought.

This was kind of exciting. I started climbing the spiral staircase. It was in stone, just like the one in the entry. It wasn’t dark yet: I could see that through the loophole, the fresh breeze of a midsummer’s air explained it. It was probably going to be dark at ten or eleven. I had all my time, but then I thought of the crumble.

“No, no and no, I’ll be quick.”

I still believe that if the stairs had been in wood, in creaking wood, maybe I wouldn’t have had the courage to go further and visit what I saw behind the highest door of the house. I pushed it and as I expected it creaked. I wasn’t scared, okay maybe … But that wasn’t going to stop me, I was too curious. I came in the room. It was an old attic. They were some many little things, big ones, strange ones, old ones … But what captured my eyes was a little box made out of metal, on the ground, covered with little coloured stones. I knelt, which made a horrible sound. The lid was cover of dust and really cold, I trembled as my fingers brushed against it. I opened it and found a beautiful bracelet. There was a little note rolled next to it. I read it:

“To Georgia.”

Georgia? Maybe the fiancée of Mrs Crawford’s grandfather, it was so old. I closed the box and turned. A painting was framed, hung on the wall: a little boy and a little girl of seven years old were holding hands. It was adorable… The boy really looked like William whereas the little girl had two braids, with a lovely dress, she reminded me of someone but I put this idea away, I wasn’t really Isabelle, I couldn’t know that girl. However, I looked around, dust was reigning in this attic. There was a wardrobe full of beautiful dresses, I took one out of it and looked at it, I put it in front of me – I couldn’t try it, sneezing would have spread more dust around which would have made me sneeze more and again and again- and looked at me in a broken mirror. I imagined myself in a ballroom, dancing, hopping while the bustle was twirling around. What a lovely view… I perceived the sound of a little bell.

“Darn it! Dinner already!”

I put away the dress in the wardrobe, closed it, crossed the door, and went down the stairs four at a time.

“Miss Isabelle!” screamed a voice.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I answered, listening to the echo of my own voice.
“Miss Isabelle!” the voice went on, louder this time.

I closed the door of the room, and found the servant, who was cooking in the kitchen previously, looking for me.

“Where were you? You’re not supposed to go in the tower, Mrs forbade it, you know that.”
“Excuse me, I forgot, I was just curious.”
“Follow me, it’s dinner time, your family’s waiting for you.”

I put the little jacket on the bed as the domestic was turning around.

“You haven’t even changed, Mrs’s not going to be happy, your bad hobbies will drive her crazy Miss!”

I looked down.

 
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Arriving in the entry, we crossed the living room and the servant opened the side of a double door. I stepped into the dining room. Covered with a white tablecloth, a long table was in the centre of the room. Mrs Crawford and William were already seated facing each other, waiting. A place was set next to William, I guessed it was my seat. I was walking to the chair when Mrs Crawford coughed. I stopped and stared at her with an inquiring look.

“Your entrance, young lady, is unacceptable.” she said calmly. “First, you’re still wearing these rags, and now not even a reverence? I thought you decided to leave your bad habits when you showed a little interest in piano lessons, but I was wrong.”

She was really haughty, I did a little reverence. But I guessed this wasn’t enough since she went on:

“Mrs Morey, will you please bring her in the kitchen, she won’t have dinner with us tonight because of her scandalous behaviour.”

“Yes Madam.” responded the nice woman respectfully.

She turned towards me with a pity look.

“Come with me Miss.”

And I followed her, again, in the sweet-smelling kitchen. I sat on the bench that was related to the table. Liz put the table on for me, and served me a delicious roasting beef accompanied by mashed potatoes. I ate everything.

Liz and Mrs Morey laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“After all your mother’s reprimands, you’re still a voracious” answered Liz.
“You’ll never change Miss Isabelle, definitely.” continued Mrs Morey.

And we all laughed. The clock announced eight o’clock.

“It’s time you go to bed Miss Isabelle, I’ll come with you.” said Liz as she was lighting a candle.

We went to the first storey using other stairs, those ones were in wood, and after opening a door at the end of the steps, we found ourselves in the same corridor I had visited two hours ago.

“I’m sorry you had to eat in the kitchen again Miss.” whispered Liz.
“Oh don’t be sorry, we had a great time, I’m sure it was better than having a boring dinner with my mother and brother.”

Liz smiled as she turned the wrist of a door and pushed it. We entered a beautiful bedroom.
 
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lol GOOD. :D Oh, and I promise I'll keep writing mine too. Even though it's not really been my highest priority for the past month or so... *guilty look* ;)
 
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