A Maid Without Memory

A Dream and Games

The ball went splendidly. Abigail got to dance with her smitten betrothed twice and made conversation with several lovely ladies whom she had sorely missed. When she arrived back at her townhouse, Sally could barely manage to keep her upright long enough to slip her in a nightgown. The pins would have to wait until the morning.

Sally then retired to her bed and went to bed as she usually did, wondering about her life before Mrs. Mayes. She had many questions. Who were her parents? Did she have siblings? Could she possibly be a gentleman's daughter? She tried very hard not to dwell on this question. Wishing for a higher rank was a common pastime for servants, but thinking on it too long would never accomplish anything and was almost guaranteed to make her life miserable. A grateful heart is a happy one, as Mrs. Mayes would say. Her education was somewhat of a mystery, but whatever lessons she had received were different and more advanced than those of a typical servant. Best not to ponder too long, she had a good life here, a wonderful family in the Mayes and a good friend in Abigail, despite their very different ranks.

Sally dreamed of a little boy that night. She had had similar dreams many times. He was one of the only memories she could conjure of a time before the Mayes. Like always, he was running alongside her in a meadow. Green hills as far as the eye could see, with patches of wildflowers adding bursts of color. The sky was blue and clear, save for a few fluffy, white clouds. She could smell the grass. He looked to be maybe seven or eight and slightly taller than her. He had brown hair but blue eyes and just a hint of freckles on his nose. He bent down to pick up a yellow flower when suddenly her vision went black. This was different than normal. Usually the dream ended as he offered her the freshly picked flower. All sounds were suddenly muffled, she felt as if she could not breathe. The little boy's face appeared over her, the outline of her vision still fuzzy, he was clearly saying something, her name maybe?

Her eyes cracked open and she had a headache. Sally's underclothes clung to her, soaked with sweat. She groaned and quickly dressed herself and went to see if Abigail was awake.

"Well, Miss Abigail, just a week from your biggest day. How are your nerves? Anything like your mother's?"

"Goodness, no!" she laughed. Mrs. Hampton was known for having a partiality for dramatics and had been complaining of nerves, yelling over silly things, and mostly sending terror up the spine of every servant in the house along with any wedding personnel who had the misfortune to work with her. 'Everything just had to be perfect for her darling daughter's ceremony and celebration.' "I am quite fine, thank you, at least in comparison to Mother. I am not eager to leave behind all I've ever known, but at least I get to visit Bannerfield once more before I depart forever."

"It is kind of him to let you get married close to your childhood home. I, for one, am excited to see it for the first time. And, I am told, it is best in the spring." Sally smiled warmly at her mistress.

"It is quite beautiful this time of year! The beautiful blossoms that decorate the whole landscape, and everything is just so green, and... Aha, you are teasing me!" she exclaimed.

"You are most observant," Sally laughed. "I could not resist, not when you have scarcely spent a second not speaking of your wonderful estate since it was settled that we would stay there before the happy event of your marriage!"

"I suppose I may have spoken more than I ought to about it, but I am so excited to share the joy of Bannerfield with you! It is my most favorite place in the world! I cannot wait for you to see it! Especially in the spring," Abigail sighed.

"I have been made aware of the fact, actually." Sally giggled.

"Oh you!" Abigail grabbed a pillow off her bed and jokingly threw it in Sally's general direction. Unfortunately her quick grab for the pillow had made Sally lose her grip on Abigail's corset's strings and she had fallen on her back. Luckily, she landed partially on the mound of fabric that was supposed to be in Abigail's trunk and had not been really hurt by the fall.

"Oh, Sally! I am tremendously sorry. I did not mean to hurt you, are you alright?" Abigail extended a hand down to her lady's maid.

Hoisting herself up, subtly but purposefully denying Abigail's proffered hand, she grunted, "I am perfectly well. Your dresses seem to have cushioned my descent to the ground." She added the last bit with the perfect mix of dramatic flair, poise, and underlying disapproval that would have made even ladies of the first circles shrink under her withering gaze.

Abigail, however, proceeded to laugh, knowing her friend well enough to know this was one of her silly games, and she bore no real resentment.

"You dare to laugh?" Sally questioned, raising her voice, though not loud enough to be heard by anyone else in the house. "You have caused me to fall so ungraciously, I have remained civil and maintained my decorum, forgiven your egregious mistake, and you laugh? I assure you, my husband, Lord Something-or-other shall hear of this!" She lowered her voice and stepped up to Abigail. Leaning slightly forward she uttered slowly, "Mark...my...words."

Abigail struggled to keep a straight face and let a snort escape as she curtsied and said with her head bowed. "Yes, Countess, of course. I apologize for my lapse in judgement and decorum." She lifted her eyes to meet Sally's. They barely held eye contact for a second before they both burst out into an unladylike fit of giggles, even rolling on the floor at one point.

They had played similar games when they were younger and every now and then Sally delighted in bringing light into her dear friend's eyes by reminding her of their childhood antics.

"I am so grateful I have you as my friend, Sally," Abigail whispered as they laid on the ground side by side after the giggles died down.

"And I you," she whispered back.