Letters From Laura

4

Dear Mum,

I have just been informed that there is no Internet service here and I. Am. Horrified. It's not like I had any friends back home, you know I preferred to read and study rather than socialize, but I don't know how I'm supposed to get on without any connection between here and the real world.

Being here feels like I've been transported into another time. I know I am lucky to have a home so I won't complain too much (aloud).

It is only my second day here at Norwood Manor but it feels longer.

I was reading though my letters to you and felt very sad that this is how I must communicate with you from now on. I wrote you three letters in one single afternoon and you know how much I hate writing.

Everything is so cold here and the only nice person I've met so far has been Nancy (the maid who put away my clothes).

She woke me up this morning, too. She came in with a tray for breakfast and told me the time.

I do find her delightful. We chatted a bit while I ate my breakfast and I felt safe enough to ask her some questions.

"Well, I wouldn' say I know too much bu' I'll try an' answer, alrigh'."

I came to understand that breakfast is a meal everyone eats alone. Isn't that odd? Everyday Nancy will bring me breakfast to eat in bed!

"Well, Lord and Ladee Ordon always take breakfas' in their room. Don' know why, they jus' always have- I fink it's kinda sad, if ya ask me. Li'l 'Tori, jus' eatin' her meal all alone. I brough' her food 'fore I delivered yours 'ere. Speakin' o which, I should've left minutes ago."

She made to leave but I asked her to stay. She readily agreed with a glint in her eye. She can't be older than 21 so you wouldn't have known her back when you were here but she really is lovely.

I do wonder, did you and dad eat breakfast in bed as well? Or is this just something Claire enjoys? I agree with Nancy that it is sad Victoria eats all alone. Perhaps I should join her for breakfast one day. I have to meet her first though, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet.

I ask her about herself and she launched into a story about growing up with lots of siblings and how she once wanted to be a dancer doing ballet.

"Can't imagine tha now, can ya? Not with these chubby stumps!" She laughed.

Her laughter is infectious and I smiled a little bit- the first time I've smiled since being here. After Nancy really had to get back to work I got up and ready for the day and started to write to you.

After sleeping on it, I'm not as angry at dad as I was yesterday (although I still boil when I think of Claire). I haven't told you yet, have I? Oh bother, Here we go.

Ms. Merwin came to the door as I told you and said my father "would be available for a meeting soon" And I wasn't sure what that meant. A meeting seemed so formal. And what did soon mean? I was nervous.

I grabbed your beautiful whale bone brush from the bathroom (the only item of yours I possess) and ran it through my hair to look more presentable and I changed into my best dress. It had been a long day full of traveling, unfavorable people and sadness but nobody needed to see that.

As it turns out, soon meant over an hour. So for that long I sat in the bay window and went over what I would say to my father. I did the math, it had been 14 months since I had spoken to him (the arrangements to come to Norwood were dealt with between adults) and 3 years since I had seen him in person.

I wanted to make a good impression and show him how much I've grown. I wasn't just a little girl to be overlooked anymore. I was 15 and I wanted him to acknowledge my maturity.

Ms. Merwin came just as I ruled out doing a curtsy for him. I didn't want to seem like I was trying too hard. She escorted me back downstairs, past the dining room, up another staircase and down a long hallway, lit only by several small lamps attached to the wall. I felt like a rat in a maze.

She abruptly stopped about halfway down the hall and we faced a set of doors. The wood was dark mahogany and the handles were a shiny bronze. It was his office, I knew, because you had described these doors to me a million times when I was a child. I remember the story of you setting foot into his office for the first time and how you felt so insignificant in comparison to his books and medals. I wondered if I would feel the same.

Ms. Merwin told me to knock on the door and speak only when spoken to before she strode off the way we had came, her black dress billowing behind her like a vampire.

I guess right here is a good place to stop- there's so much to write I don't think I can fit it all in this one letter.

Perhaps I can explore the manor if the mer-witch doesn't catch me.

Wish me luck,

Laura xoxo