Skyfall
~Seven~
I spent the rest of the day exploring the tower, on the floors that Calista told me I was allowed to visit, accompanying me so that we could ride the elevator. She took me to the library where I had fun riding the electric ladders around rather than reading the books. Calista told me later that she felt like she was babysitting, but she didn’t mind.
“How long have you been with the House of Nova?” I asked her, sitting in the large kitchen on Floor 29, gnawing on a crust of hot bread fresh from the bread maker.
“About seven years now,” Calista said, folding sheets with one of the other servants. “Before that I worked for the House of Lords.”
“House of Lords?”
“The House of Lords... good grief, girl, how long were you in that Salesroom?” Calista finished folding the sheet neatly. “The House of Lords. Parliament.”
“Oh,” It was true that I hadn’t paid attention in our lessons. “What did you do for them?”
“I was a secretary. You should see me handle a keyboard. I knew things about those men that would make your hair curl, love. Not that it needs help though.”
After discovering my hair cut short, Calista had insisted on neatening it up, and now it was beginning to spring into corkscrew curls.
“Like what?” I asked eagerly, spreading strawberry jam over the other crust.
“The affairs they were having. How many women they’d bought that they kept in other houses. The ones that were going bankrupt,” Calista leant over and stole the crust I’d been about to eat. I scowled and began to cut another slice from the loaf. “There was a sweet old dear, Mr Lowry. Going deaf but still remembered to say hello to all the writers in the typing pool. I don’t know what happened to him...”
“Wait, Graham Lowry?” I asked, frowning. “Who was he?”
Calista sent me a puzzled look, sitting down next to me and licking the jam off of her fingers.
“He was one of the Lords. How did you know what his first name was?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly, and it was true. His name had sprung to my mind as soon as Calista had mentioned him. “It’s like I always knew it.”
Calista continued examining me.
“I’ll make some calls to my old friends, see if they know what happened to him,” she clapped her hands together excitedly. “How thrilling! A mystery attached to a beautiful woman. I feel like I’m in a novel.”
That night, Louis didn’t come to visit me. Calista and her group of makeover servants didn’t arrive at my door. Instead I rolled up in the sheets reading the books I’d taken from the library level. I went to sleep with a book in my hand and a thousand thoughts of Graham Lowry running through my head.
I was woken by a small tap at my door. I sat up, blearily pushing my curls out of my eyes. I swept out of bed and to the door, opening it to admit an excited Calista.
“We found him,” she said, and I wondered if she’d slept at all. “Graham Lowry. He’s in one of the hospitals south of the city.”
“Can we see him?” I asked.
“There’s a car waiting downstairs. Get dressed and hurry up.” She was gone before I could say anything else.
As I dressed and met Calista at the elevator, I couldn’t help but wonder what I was going to say to the man I probably didn’t know.
“How long have you been with the House of Nova?” I asked her, sitting in the large kitchen on Floor 29, gnawing on a crust of hot bread fresh from the bread maker.
“About seven years now,” Calista said, folding sheets with one of the other servants. “Before that I worked for the House of Lords.”
“House of Lords?”
“The House of Lords... good grief, girl, how long were you in that Salesroom?” Calista finished folding the sheet neatly. “The House of Lords. Parliament.”
“Oh,” It was true that I hadn’t paid attention in our lessons. “What did you do for them?”
“I was a secretary. You should see me handle a keyboard. I knew things about those men that would make your hair curl, love. Not that it needs help though.”
After discovering my hair cut short, Calista had insisted on neatening it up, and now it was beginning to spring into corkscrew curls.
“Like what?” I asked eagerly, spreading strawberry jam over the other crust.
“The affairs they were having. How many women they’d bought that they kept in other houses. The ones that were going bankrupt,” Calista leant over and stole the crust I’d been about to eat. I scowled and began to cut another slice from the loaf. “There was a sweet old dear, Mr Lowry. Going deaf but still remembered to say hello to all the writers in the typing pool. I don’t know what happened to him...”
“Wait, Graham Lowry?” I asked, frowning. “Who was he?”
Calista sent me a puzzled look, sitting down next to me and licking the jam off of her fingers.
“He was one of the Lords. How did you know what his first name was?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly, and it was true. His name had sprung to my mind as soon as Calista had mentioned him. “It’s like I always knew it.”
Calista continued examining me.
“I’ll make some calls to my old friends, see if they know what happened to him,” she clapped her hands together excitedly. “How thrilling! A mystery attached to a beautiful woman. I feel like I’m in a novel.”
That night, Louis didn’t come to visit me. Calista and her group of makeover servants didn’t arrive at my door. Instead I rolled up in the sheets reading the books I’d taken from the library level. I went to sleep with a book in my hand and a thousand thoughts of Graham Lowry running through my head.
I was woken by a small tap at my door. I sat up, blearily pushing my curls out of my eyes. I swept out of bed and to the door, opening it to admit an excited Calista.
“We found him,” she said, and I wondered if she’d slept at all. “Graham Lowry. He’s in one of the hospitals south of the city.”
“Can we see him?” I asked.
“There’s a car waiting downstairs. Get dressed and hurry up.” She was gone before I could say anything else.
As I dressed and met Calista at the elevator, I couldn’t help but wonder what I was going to say to the man I probably didn’t know.