Veiled

I stood in the alley for a moment after the young lady walked away. She was, if I recalled the papers properly Miss Marie Luvvet, the daughter of Sir Luvvet one of the richest men in London. Not the normal type to be found roaming around here. Here was the world of the poor, the unseen and unheard, the labourers and the scullery maids like me. This was the place where death hardly seemed to hit home anymore, but perhaps that was just me.
“Are you okay Lyra? You are looking a little green.” Alice another of my mistresses maids walked down the alley towards me.
“I’m fine Alice, I don’t know what came over me.”
Alice furrowed her brow. “Well then, I was wondering where you got to with the meat?”
I looked down to my arms as if the leg of lamb would suddenly appear in them.
"Sorry, I've got waylaid by Mrs Hoak." I looked down blushing.
"I know, I saw you sat with her, so I got it my self. ” Alice scolded. “Now quick hurry, Miss Evangeline will need me to dress her for later.”
I scurried after her down the filthy alleyway. We rushed down the high street to where Oscar was waiting with the horse and cart to take us back to the Rutherford’s estate. It was to the northwest of London in the borough of Harrow. The journey back took half an hour and it was it misting slightly so Oscar told Alice and I to use one of the old grain sacks as cover. He himself was wearing a thick labourers jacket and cap so as to be protected from the cold.

Compared the cold journey the scullery seemed a veritable hot house , I was not allowed to enjoY the heat the flooded through me for long because Cook quickly set me to work peeling potatoes and carrots ready for the evening meal, but not before she had given me a roll of warmed bread to chase away the cold. The cook, a dumpy woman by the name of Agnes Light was the nearest thing to family I had.
My own family had all died in a house fire when I was five, leaving my memory of them patchy at least. Some days I could barely see my mother’s face clearly but then at night during my dreams I would remember the way her soft hair tickled my face and she tucked me and my older sister Nellie into bed. Sometimes I could almost smell the bread she use to bake and hear the thud of my father’s and my brothers’ work boots and they came in after a long day.
Being the only survivor had left me with a terrible quilt, my mother had sent me out with a letter for the school master apologising for Nellie’s absence that day and I am dallied by the village pond on my way back, watching the fish swim around in the clear water. When I got back the flames had engorged the house.
While I could not remember much of my family I will never forget Nell’s face in the window and she waved goodbye to me.
Oscar’s hand on my shoulder startled me from my thoughts. “A bloom for a beauty.” He said holding out a single poppy.
I blushed a deep shade of red. “How lovely Oscar.”
He grinned bashfully before leaving as quickly as he came.
I ran to the room I shared with Alice and placed the flower in a chipped cup that sat on my dresser.
When I got back to the scullery, cook set me to work washing up the pots and pans, the water scolded my hands and turned them as red as the poppy.