Tag Archives: Sims 3 Story

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lodgings


As soon as I stepped inside the heat hit me like a fog. Petty led us behind the front counter and to a small sewing station at the back.


On our right we passed rows of stoves and coppers steaming like anything.


“Well me gel.” Petty said to me. “Lets see if you can do a stitch as fine as your friend here sez you can do. Take the chair, there you go.”


I sat down and the flatlands girl handed me the shawl and needle and thread. Doing a rolled hem isn’t hard, Jo always told me, you just have to have the patience to put the needle where it’s supposed to go and work on keeping your stitches neat and even. The hem will work out all on its own if you make the stitches right. As I was hemming I used my lower stitches to catch the lace and attach that at the same time.

“Well.” Petty said when I was finished. “Have a look with your young eyes Yasmin and tell me what you think of that.”


“Ohh,finer than Mira could ever do it even!” the flatlands girl, Yasmin, said. “Where did you learn lass?”

“From a young lady.” I said, quite truthfully.

“You been in service then?”

“Yes.” I hoped she didn’t ask any more questions.


“Yes, well, you can all get to find out more about each other later.” Petty said.

“Later?” Frankie beamed.


“Oh trial only, mind!” Petty said wagging her finger. “You young gels come in here and expect me to ask no questions, well, bless me kind heart but that I won’t, but there’s be an eye with you, two if I can spare them. You gel, what are we calling you?”

“Frances.” Frankie answered. “Yes, well, you can help Yasmin and Cora in the laundry and you,” She turned to me, “Will need to help them also unless there’s stitchin’ needing those fingers of yours. You’ll start tomorrow. Now, if you don’t want that old Beats to be rentin’ your lodgings to someone else ye better git goin’ to secure them. Just you tell her old Petty has a place for you here and the work is nice an’ steady an’ if your mind forgets to mention it’s jut trial only then  I’ll not say nothin’.”

“Oh, thank you!” Frankie said.

“Yes well. Now before you git goin’ you just see Yasmin and she’ll help you, you might both look smart but there’ll be some old clothes in the cupboard you can wear, look less like where you’ve come from and more like where yer goin’.”

We thanked Petty and followed Yasmin.


“You lasses got yourselves into a spot of bother then?” She said. “Well, Petty won’t ask many questions and she’s a good soul really. You’re safe with her.”


“We’re very thankful.” Frankie said.

“Lets find you something to wear.”


The clothes were mostly old and worn but at least they were clean. Apparently as well as cleaning and mending clothes they bought up old clothes, fixed them up then sold them to those who couldn’t afford new clothes. I felt funny wearing someone else’s old things but Petty was right, we did look like girls straight from service. Even the girl selling flowers could see it. We changed into our ‘new’ things and Yasmin helped us to tie our old clothing up in our bundles to take back with us. Then, after saying goodbye to Yasmin and Petty until tomorrow, we headed off.


“Well, that’s the hard part done.” I said.


“Mrs Beats has to let us a room first.” Frankie said. “I’m not sure she’ll be as understanding as Petty.”

“I like Petty.” I said. “She’s a little strange, but I think I like her.”


“Hello!” We’d reached the corner and the young flower girl came running up to us. “Looks like you had some luck.”

“Ye, we did.” Frankie said. “Thanks to you.”

“Petty is good like that.” The girl said.

“If you know she’s caled Petty, why did you tell us Mrs Tomson?” I asked.


“Oh, she wouldn’t have liked strangers calling her Petty. She won’t have anyone calling her Mrs Tomson but she has to ask you to call her Petty. She’s a bit funny about that.”


“Speaking of names, we were never introduced before.” Frankie said. “I’m Frances, and this is Bella.”


“I’m Eliza.” The girl said. “And over there is my sister Clara. I should get back to helping her now, but it was nice to meet you properly.”


“Same!” Frankie said. “And we need to be seeing Mrs Beats.”

“Oh, are you staying there?”

“Well, we know she has a room free. Unless you know somewhere else we can try?”


“I don’t, sorry. Make sure you mind Mrs Beats, she’s a grumpy old crown but a stickler for good manners in everyone else. Good luck!”


“Thank you!”


“You’re welcome!”

Eliza ran off to rejoin her sister.


“Well, nothin’ to do but to do it!” Frankie said. We approached the house and it looked even more forbearing than it did before. We stood at the base of the steps, held hands and walked up together.

It was cooler in between the buildings and I felt a shiver run up my spine.


“She’s only a cranky old boarding house woman.” Frankie said, I think more to herself than to me.


“Well, then come on.” A bit of highland courage was what was needed, so I walked straight up to the door and knocked on it.


“Well?” Mrs Beats said the moment she opened the door, a scowl on her face. “What do you pesterin’ kids want? Don’t come round botherin’ me, whatever yer sellin’ I’m not byin’!”


“Oh, if you please Madam.” Frankie said. “We were lookin’ for lodgings and we was told to come and see Mrs Beats because she is a good moral woman of good standin’ and would make sure a respectable place was found for us.” I’d never heard Frankie sound so humble before, but it did the trick.


“Oh, well, now that’s a different story, ain’t it. Why didn’t yer say so at once?”


“And how are yer to be payin’ fer a room?”


“We have places with Petty.” Frankie said.


“Oh, yer are are ye? Two kids all on their own? What are ye doin’ here?”

“I– our friend set us up with Petty, Madam, but she can’t offer us any place to stay. She did say if we we were good girls and well behaved then you might have a place for us here” It was almost true. We’d only just met Eliza but she had been a friend to us in this place.

“Hmm. Well, there’s always clothes to be mended an’ washed. There’s always work tgheir. I’ll be speakin’ to Petty mind!”

Mrs Beats invited us inside and we found ourselves in a dark and bare hallway.


“Ye’ll be wantin’ to see the room.” Mrs Beats said before leading up a staircase just just as long and narrow as the hall.


We went up several flights of stairs and Mrs Beats stopped when we reached the top landing.

“This is the free room.” She said before opening the door and leading us in.


We followed her into the room. It was larger than our little attic room at Lady D’Winter’s and there were windows but they let little light in.


We had a double bed, that was something, and a bit more furniture including a proper table and chairs. I shook my head. How feelings changed over such a short time that I was grateful for a roughly made table and chairs.


I let Frankie talk the financials with Mrs Beats though I listened closely. We had to pay most of our small savings upfront but we had a small amount left over.


Then Mrs Beats went through the rules.

She had quite a list but most of them were things I’d never have imagined doing anyway. Finally she left us to settle in.


“Well, it’s better than it could be.” Frankie said. “Lets get some light in here and set our things about.”


We set about lighting lamps and candles and the room soon brightened.

“I’m starving.” I said, suddenly realising it was true. And I was exhausted. We’d eaten some food during our walk but had barley dozed since… since the night before last.


We pulled out the last of our bread from our supplies and sat down at our table to eat it.


I could hardly keep my eyes open but forced myself to stay up and finish my food. It was like now that we had a safe space the highlander blood that had been pushing me all this time was saying “safe, sleep now.”

Frankie helped me into my nightdress and if you can fall asleep before your head touches your pillow, I did just that.



Posted by on 24th April, 2013 in Future's Present


Tags: , , , ,

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Thank You Jo.


“The Grocer looked like he had enough help.” Frankie said as we walked. “And a girl can’t be of any help to a butcher. The lady at the draper’s had a horrible scowl, I wonder if she works there or was just an early customer?”


“What about down the end of the street.” I say. “We could sell flowers like those girls there.”

“That’s hardly a steady job.” Frankie said. “You have to buy the flowers first to sell them and if you don’t sell them then you’re out of pocket. It’s day by day work which means any lodgings are offered on night by night terms. This is a small place and the girls will have their own customers loyal to them. If it were a big city we might do better…” We came to  corner leading to a small street.


“We don’t want to go down here, do we?” I asked


“Are you new here?” The young girl who had been tying flowers into bunches came up to us. “Has somebody just move in? We didn’t hear of it, or are you new staff for one of the big houses? You look very young, you can’t be much older than I am. I’m seven and three quarters.” I smiled at the girl, she was very well spoken for a street flower seller and I wondered what her story was.



“We are new.” Frankie said. “But we’re lookin’ for work, do you know of anywhere needing someone?”

“Well, I don’t know. Are you wanting work in one of the houses?”

“No.” Frankie said.

“I didn’t think so. But I won’t say anything.”


“Thank you.” Frankie said. I was a bit puzzled by this exchange but I kept my mouth shut for the moment.

The two looked at each other for a while longer.


“If you’re not afraid of hard work, then you might try Mrs Tomson’s round the corner. If you’re very desperate.”

“Thank you. What buildin’ is it?”

“Oh, you’ll know when you see it all right.”

We parted ways and we headed off to the small street the girl had pointed at.

“She’s a good girl, she is.” Frankie said to me.


“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She knows we’re runaways, but she won’t say nothing. We should think up names.”


“If people are looking for a Bobbie and a Frankie, we don’t want to be Bobbie and Frankie.”


“Oh, not Bertha again!”

“Naw. What’s somethin’ you like and can remember but isn’t too fancy?”


“I’m sure I’ll still call you Frankie!”

“Well, I’ll pick Frances. That way if you start to say Frankie it won’t be as noticeable. Now, what Highlander names start with ‘B’.”

“Well, there’s Bonnie.”

“Maybe a little close to Bobbie. What else?”


“Well…” I racked my brains. This was harder than it sounded. “I suppose there’s Bella. Short for Annabella.”

“That’s pretty. Well, you’re Bella and I’m Frances, remember that?”

“I hope so!”

“Well, it’s better than Bertha at any rate! Come on.”


The street was the sort of street I would have once avoided but now walking down here was a chance at safety and security. I made sure to stand close to Frankie and to keep my eyes open.


“You need to be putting that spine into it! I cannot be getting on with my work if must be I’m in here doing half your work for you! You young gels you dance in and you dance out never minding poor Petty here left to try and make this meet that!”


“That sounds like the place the girl was talking about.” Frankie said.

“Over there.” I pointed.

“Yes… I see what she meant about not being scared of hard work.”

“Maybe they just need more help?”


“It’s a washer woman’s house. The whole lot is hard work. Come on.”


We made our way to the house and up the steps. Suddenly the door opened and a large figure, with just as large gold hoops in her ears, towered over us.


“Well?” She said looking at us. “Are your tongues with the cats?”

“If you please Madam.” Frankie said, “We’re looking for Mrs Tomson”

The woman in front of us burst out into loud, right pearls of laughter. My heart sank, had we gotten wrong information?”

“No one calls me that gel, Petty’s good enough for the likes of old Petty! Who might you be?”


“I’m F-Frances and this is Bella. We’re new in town and looking for work.”

“Oh just relying on poor Petty to get you by, where are you headed?”

“Well, here. There’s a room for us at Mrs Beats’—”


“Dance in and dance out you young gels. Take young Mira, was such a hard worker and promises to stay and then off she goes with some young fella and a swollen belly and poor Petty just can’t cope with that she can’t, no she can’t.”

“Well, we’re a bit young for fella’s yet” Frankie pointed out.


“Yes, well you’re a bit young for a lot of things. What experience do you have? Do you have a reference?” She looked from Frankie to me. “Do you?”



“I didn’t think so.”

There was an awkward silence then the door behind Petty burst open.


“Oh Petty, you’re needed at once!” I looked up at the familiar accent and saw a young lady who could only be described as a “lass from the Flatlands” was speaking.

“At once! At once? What is this at once?”


“Mrs D’s Shawl, the pink chiffon one, the stitching on part has come unstitched and the lace there has come off!”

“Then stitch it back on gel! You’ve fingers!”

“Oh, that I know, but there was a rolled hem and that’s come undone there too and I can’t do as a fine one that was there.”


“And my old eyes aren’t what they were once. You young gels, where’s that Mira when you want her? Gone she is.”

“Bella can do it!” Frankie interrupted.


“Bella?” Petty looked back at Frankie. “Who is Bella?”


“I am.” I said. Petty looked at me closely with a slight frown then pulled my hands towards her as if to inspect them.


“These hands have seen hard work recently but they ain’t used to it. That they’re not.” She said.

“They’re more used to holding a needle and thread than a scrubbing brush.” Frankie admitted. “But she’s a hard worker. Same as I.”


“Well. Let me see your hands then gel.” Petty said. Frankie held out her hands for inspection. “Well, hard work is used to you.” Petty said after looking at them. “Well, Bella, is that what we’re calling you gel?” Petty asked me. I nodded. I wasn’t sure if it was just her odd way of phrasing things or if she had an inkling that wasn’t my real name.


“Well then. Lets see if you can stitch as fine as your friend praises. Come on in.”

We all followed old Petty into the building.

Thank you Jo, I thought to myself, remembering all the time she spent teaching me how to do the hems on my dress I made and had planned to wear to the soiree before my life changed forever. If only I knew then that I’d bee using what she’d taught me to try and earn enough for a place to eat and food to eat in this strange place so far from home.

Still, it was only for a week or two. I could last that. Then I’d be Bobbie again and maybe, just maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.



Posted by on 17th April, 2013 in Future's Present


Tags: , , ,

Chapter Twenty-Six: A New Dawn; a New Life

Elen often said to me “Go to bed and sleep it out. It’ll all look different in the morning.”

She was right, it always did.

There’s an old Highlander saying, a new dawn is a new day. When the sun rises it shines light on hidden places and causes new shadows on others. At the moment the sun peaks over the horizon the day is a new beginning with no mistakes yet made. In our case a new dawn was more than a new day, our new beginning was a new life. This is how I knew we’d done the right thing in running away, because with this new day and this new life we hadn’t made any mistakes yet. The slate was clear.


We walked a long time, through the local village and on further. It was in the predawn light that a distant clip clop vanquished the silence before even the birds dared sing.


We looked back and saw a shape on the road in the far distance, because sound travels very far when it it not quite yet day. Frankie spun around.


“This way.” She said and started walking towards the source of the noise.

“But why? I asked her, jogging a little to catch up. “Why are we going back?”


“We’re not. But what if they’re looking for us? Two little girls out at this time so far from the last village, what else could we be but runaways? Now when we get in hearing range I want you to argue that we should go back, that you’re tired and your feet are sore, but when he gets closer I’ll do most of the talkin’”


So when the milk cart, for that was what approached, was closer I did just that. Frankie hushed me as the milk cart pulled up beside us.


“What are you two young ones doin’ out so early on the road?” he asked.

“Nothin’!” Frankie answered a little too quickly. The man narrowed his eyes at us and after a moment’s hesitation she gave in.


“We-ell.. Freddy Parkins next door has a cousin what runned away to the big city and he wrote a letter back sayin’ how wonderful it was so we thought we’d a-go and join him but someone—” Her she glared at me “Is gettin’ tired feet already!” I could tell Frankie was exaggerating her accent to make her seem more common and naive than she actually was. I looked down at my shoes remembering all the times she’d laughed at my “posh” accent below stairs. I couldn’t do a passable job on an accent in close quarters so I kept my mouth shut.

“So, runnin’ away was a great idea, was it” The man asked.

“Well…” Frankie screwed up her face.

“If yer caught missin’ at dawn your mistress will have the constable after ye! An’ the furst person they’ll ask is yours truly.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t tell?” Frankie asked. “Only even if we turn back now we’ll be too late, we’ve been walkin’ ages!”

“Git yerselves up on back an’ I’ll give ye a lift back and they’ll be none the wiser an’ we won’t have another word said.” The man said to us.

Chap26-08 Chap26-09

So Frankie and I did as we were told.


It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, on an old cart amongst the milk but at least it was better than walking!


“He delivers the milk.” Frankie whispered to me, letting the noise of the cart mask her voice from the man. “Then the local milkmen will collect it and take it round. The men who deliver the milk always see anyone on the roads just before dawn so they’re often asked about all sorts of runaways. This way he thinks he’s takin’ us home!”


“I’d never have thought of that!” I whispered back.


“Well, don’t congratulate me yet, we’ve only gotten away, we haven’t found a safe place to bide our time yet!”

We arrived at our location just as the sun was rising. Our driver left us at the main street after a promise from us to return to our mistress then he went to offload his milk.


I looked around. The main street was waking up already. People were outside their shops setting out their wares and a few early customers were hurrying about their wares.

“Is this a good place to stay?” I asked. “Far enough away but close enough to go back?”

“I think so.” Frankie said.

“Then we need to find a place to stay.” I said. “And then some work… how does one go about finding work?”

Frankie sighed. “No, we can’t find lodgings until we have work. An’ don’t mention it being only temporary . A good lodger is a reliable one, one who makes little fuss, earns an honest and regular wage and will pay it week after week.”

“Well, lets find honest work then. How does one go about it? What do we need to do?”

“Find someone with work that needs doin’. They’ll also want someone who ain’t about to skip town—”

“So don’t go telling them it’s only temporary either?”

“No, we don’t. Even if their work is only for a few days they’d rather that be on their terms so best make them think we’re here to stay a while.”

“What’s the best way to do that?”

“Well, to have an address for a start.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said! Now lets take a look around, eyes and ears open.”


We walked down the main street, past a servant talking to the butcher past the grocer and the grocer’s boy. Past the two street urchins whose game had been put on pause while they helped a third boy catch a chicken. There was a lady outside the drapers who frowned at us and a man setting out books outside a small, dark store.


“What do ye think yers doin’?” We spun at the cross voice but it wasn’t addressed to us but rather at a young man and woman who’d been enjoying each other’s company just outside the local on the corner.

“Oh, hello Mrs B.” The man said. “Top o’ the mornin’ an’ all tha’”

“Yer jist shut yer blitherin’” She said, pulling the man away from the girl.

“Mornin’ Mrs Beats.”  The young woman said.


“An don’t yer mornin’ me either. Dallyin’ on the street wi’ some boy washed in on the last tide?”

“Oh Mrs B. I’m more than tha’!” The young man protested. “Sides, she’s my sweet girl, Molly ain’t she!”

“It’s not proper!” The old woman scolded. “I run a reputable establishment, I should ‘ave known ye was no a no good gel when I took you in, no better than ye should be if you ask me! I won’t ‘ae people says I tooks in harlots ff the streets. Ye can be findin’ another place to sleep me girly because there won’t be a room in my house fur ye tonight!”

“Who wants to stay in your old boardin’ ‘ouse anyway?” The young woman yelled back. “There’s rats, an’ those that run on four legs as well! There’s room in the pub for me, until Jim finds a place, that is! He’s my young man!”

“Well I won’t ‘ave that behaviour under my roof so yer better clear out your things before tonight! I won’t ‘ave it that I won’t!” The grumpy old woman stormed off leaving the young lovers giggling.


“Well!” I said.

“They’re often like that.” Frankie said. “It’s cos they can be held responsible for the immorality of their lodgers, if they’re young. But youknow what this means?”

“What?” I asked.


“Lodgings that want fillin’”

“Lodgings first then?”

“No, but we could have an address to give to an employer, come on!”


We followed the woman across the street and watched to see what house she entered.


It was a small, dark house with the entrance set back from the rest of the row making it seem all the more dismal.



“Well, it’s as good as can be expected.” Frankie said. “Come on, lets see if we can find work.”

We turned and continued our way down the street.

Only temporary. I told myself. Only temporary. Soon Jo and Henri could help us and in the meantime I just had to keep on going.



Posted by on 10th April, 2013 in Future's Present


Tags: , , , , ,

Chapter Twenty-Five: Into the night

Author’s Notes: Thanks again to all my readers for your support! I’m getting close to 4,000 total views for this blog which is just… wow! (for me!)

If anyone still wants to ask me any questions, please feel free!  They’ll all be answered soon.

I hope you all enjoy this update, I worked really hard on the pictures and they’re the result of my pose folder exploding due to a pose CC binge, hehe.


“We’re doomed.”


“I don’t want to be doomed.” I didn’t know who the watcher was, but he had a familiar look about him when I’d seen him earlier. Who was he? Where had I seen him before? Had I seen him before? Who was he watching and why? What did he want with  us? I remembered what Henri had said, just to sit tight and not do anything or things could get worse. There was something about our names that affected Miss Jane just after she’d seen The Watcher out. And Frankie, she didn’t know who the watcher was but he frightened her. Could things be about to be getting worse? Where would he take us? If he was going to help us then why would Miss Jane lock us up to prevent escape? She could have said nothing and we’d still have been here in the morning. So it must be something bad.


“That’s the thing, Miss, if you’re not happy where you are or where you’re headin’ you’ve got to take the bull by the horns and get yourself out. No one else is going to do it for you. Use your head and do what you can, that’s the trick. Just get out.”

The conversation I’d had with Tomas came back to me like he was beside me speaking the words.

I’m not happy where I am, that’s for sure. I don’t like where things are heading? But how to get out? Use my head.

I paced the room.

Get out, just get out. How to I get out? No stairs, they’re blocked with the trapdoor. No windows. Think think think! Frankie is right, we’re doomed!

“Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage,rage against the dying of the light.”

No, we’re not doomed. We’re not. I can’t give up. Think! I’m not where I want to be, not going where I want to b going, stuck in an attic room—


“If ever you find yourself locked in an attic room just remember that.” The words from Michael’s letter came to me and I tried to block back the rush of happy memories that caused my eyes t pick with teas. I had to focus on what my mind was trying to remember. If ever I found myself locked an attic room, well, that’s just where I was!

What did he say, think, Bobbie, think!

“But where did that leave us? I’ll tell you where, locked in an attic room. We were in a fix, that’s for sure! We’d been marched up there and escape was hopeless for it would rouse the teachers and that would take us right out of the frying pan and into the fire. Now, I’m not the sort of boy to panic and neither is Jimmy, but once we were all locked in there… well, we had an uncertain future that held nothing but trouble for us. Toulin, however, reacted differently. He worked his way around the small room, tapping at the walls and pressing his ear up against the boards.”


The words flooded back and I followed the directions, tapping the walls.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asked.

“I don’t exactly know, but I might be saving us both!” I said. Suddenly, my tapping sounded different.


“That’s hollow!” Frankie said, leaping to her feet for the first time since we’d been locked in.

“Soon he found what he was looking for and pulled out his penknife.”

“I need something like a penknife!” I said. Frankie took a knife from our meager kitchen supplies


“Jimmy and I soon joined him and together we pried the board loose…”

“Here, this will go easier.” Frankie fetched the fire poker and soon we’d pried the boards loose revealing the ceiling space behind.

“Many dormer windows aren’t windows.” I said. “They’re added on the outside so the house looks even but it doesn’t mean the entire roof space is filled with rooms.”

If ever you find yourself locked in an attic room just remember that. Out the window, down the most obliging drainpipe I’ve ever encountered and the three of us (or Jimmy and I, at least) were safe in our beds before the waking Bell.”

“We might be able to get out.” Frankie said.

“Yes. With any hope. It’s all gone to plan so far.”


We slipped through into the space on the other side of the wall and I looked for a shimmer of light. Fortunately it was a full moon and we made towards it. Sure enough, we found ourselves face to face with a dormer window.


“Dare we?” Frankie said.

“Can’t stay here.” I said.

“Well, pardon me for sayin’ so but we can’t escape with nothing but what we stand up in. We don’t have much but it’s more than we’ve got on us.”


I agreed, and back to our room we sped and we pulled the sheets off our bed. Onto them we divided up what we wanted to take. Our clothes (such as we had.) and our food and a few other things besides. My book made it in, and my photograph of Mother and Father. We tied up the corners and made two haversacks then headed back to the window.


“There’s no turning back if we go out.” Frankie said. “It’s a harsh world out there, Bobbie, you have no idea.”

“Is it better to lie back and let The Watcher do with us what he will?”

“To do nothing or to be brave, both are a risk.”


“Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, Rage against the dying of the light.” I quoted. To stay seemed to be to give up, to flee was action.

“Then rage we will.” Frankie said.


We were lucky, the window was one that opened, though we had to prop it up with a stick of firewood. Frankie climbed out first then I followed behind.

“Now how to get down.” Frankie said. “Escaping isn’t any good if we’re trapped on a rooftop! That’s just hiding.”

“down the most obliging drainpipe I’ve ever encountered”

“We need to get to the edge of the roof and look for a drainpipe to climb down.” I said.


“Well, lets have a look for one.”

“Careful!” I cautioned her as she moved towards the edge of the mock-balcony we were on. The railing around the edge was only knee hight, if she fell… I stood back and held onto her just in case while she looked down.

“No drainpipe here.” Frankie reported back. “But I can see a way to get lower down.”

To our left was another flat bit of roof but it was one story below. Fortunarly the sloped roof above us extended down below the level we were at now. Frankie tossed out bundles to the flat roof below then we swung ourselves up onto the roof abive and carefully slid down its slope until we were hanging off the edge by our hands. That left us only a few feet to drop as silently as we could next to our bundles.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard.” I said.

“There’s still no drainpipe here.” Frankie said. “But, see this sloping roof here? It goes right down to the roof of the scullery, that flat bit there. If we’re careful, we might be able to slide down to it.”

“I don’t know…” I said. “It looks like a long way—”

“Well, we can’t go back up. I’ll go first, you see how I do it and follow.”


My heart thumped in my throat as we approached the edge. Do not go gentle… rage… be brave Bobbie, be brave. I gripped Frankie’s hand, trying to keep calm. The last thing either of us wanted was sweaty palms.


I held her hands as she climbed over the railing.


She planted her feet against the wall below and slowly walked down as far as she could then jumped onto the sloped roof below. She slid.. Too far, no! She managed to stop just in time and while she skidden across roof tiles she managed to swing herself over onto the flat roof above the scullery.

“Nothing to it!” She called up to me. “Toss me the bundles. Then follow yourself.”

Tossing her the bundles was the easy part. My heart in my throat, I held onto the railings and swung myself over.

Can’t go back up, I repeated Frankie’s words to myself. I walked myself down until my arms could reach no further. Come on Bobbie, I said to myself. Where’s that bit of highland courage. Just let go. Right, now. Right, on the count of three, One… Two… Three…

With that I dropped. The roof slid from beneath my feet and I skidded—

“Bobbie!” Frankie held out her hands and I grasped them just in time for her to help pull me onto the flat roof.

“You’re right.” I said, heart still thumping in my throat. “Nothing to it.”

Frankie grinned at me.

There was no railing here so we approached the edge of the roof on our hands and knees and there was our drainpipe, looking not at all like a sturdy ladder against the wall.

“Do you think it will take our weight?” I asked.

“Looks sturdy, but there’s only one way to find out.”

“Well, if a boy can do it then so can I!” I tried to sound more confident than I was to trick myself as much as Frankie. Just a bit of the old Highland courage would do the trick.

“I’ll go first, I’m the lightest.” Frankie said and before I could stop her she swung her legs off the edge of the roof.

“Careful!” I called out.

“It seems sound.” Frankie said. Slowly she descended.


I swung over the edge of the wall. It did seem sturdy enough…


Slowly I began my climb down.

The relief I felt once my feet touched solid ground was indescribable.


We gathered up our bundles, took each others hands, and ran. We didn’t want to risk the gate so we went to the corner of the yard furtherest away from the house.


There was a brick wall that, when she took a running jump at, Frankie was able to pull herself up on.


She then turned and helped me climb up before we both jumped down to the other side. Then we were off running again and soon came to the fence that surrounded the school.


Frankie gave me a boost up.


I climbed to the top of the fence and threw our bundles to the ground on the other side.


I then reached down and helped Frankie up and we both climbed over and dropped safely to the other side.


“Well, we’ve done it.” I said.

“We’ve only just begun.” Frankie said.

“Where, what do we do now?” I hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “We need somewhere to hide until Jo and Henri can help us, and some more food to eat in the meantime.”

“We’ll need lodgings and a job, is what we need.” Frankie said. “And not too close because if people are looking for us…”

“So we need to get moving then.” I said.

“Yes. We need to get walking.” Frankie said.


And so we walked on into the night, not knowing where we were going or what would become of us.

Frankie was right, we’d only just begun.


Posted by on 3rd April, 2013 in Future's Present


Tags: , ,

A Report to a supervisor

Extra training on dress, customs and manners have been successful in assimilating to the local culture. Have requested interview with the proprietress of the suspected local and am awaiting confirmation. Have purchased clothing so to blend in better than when in clothing issued by HQ. Shirts, vest, ties and the various trinkets necessary were easy to obtain. A suit is made for each man on request and there is a whole profession devoted to this task! This requires leaving an identity, location and other personal data which is not possible. I have purchased a suit from a shop which sells those once worn by others to avoid this issue. I include the invoice

Leave a comment

Posted by on 16th March, 2013 in Future's Present Extras!


Tags: , , , ,

Chapter Twenty-Two: A New Dawn

Author’s Note: Yay! It’s here! Part two at last! Thank you all for your patience. I hope it’s worth the wait!

I was given a day’s grace.

But I don’t remember it.


The first think I remember after tumbling into the small bed I shared with Frankie that fateful night was her shaking me awake.

“It’s too early.” I moaned.

“Come on Bobbie, you can’t be still tired.”

“What time is it?”

“Just gone half four but there’s plenty to be done.”

Half past four! What sort of an hour was that?


“Still tired.”

“Oh but you can’t be! You slept all last night and all yesterday and all the night before.

“It’s not tomorrow?”

“It’s the day after tomorrow, you didn’t have to work yesterday but there will be no excuses today. You’re over rested, that’s what it is.”


“What’s over rested?” I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes.

“It’s when you get so much sleep it makes you even tireder. The only thing to do then is to set about being busy and that will wake you up. Being busy works for grief too, that’s what Mrs Roberts says. Nothin’ like hard work to take the troubles off our mind. Come on, here’s some water, wash quickly then dress and I’ll show you about your work.”


I padded over to the bowl of water and had flung a good amount over my face before I registered it was cold. I let out an involuntary shriek.

“Whatever is the matter?” Frankie asked.


“It’s cold!” I said.


“Well, of course it is, we don’t have time to warm it, unless you want to get up even earlier tomorrow. Come on!”

I hurried myself and was soon dressed.

Frankie showed me down to the cellar where the coal was kept. She showed me the coal hole it came through when the coal man came. She showed me the copper and the range. She even tried to be patient with me. Even in summer there were fires to be lit and things to be warmed up.


Frankie left me with the fires in the scullery while she ran up to rouse Gladys and Dorcus— it was only a quarter past five but it seemed we were running late already! Though the fires in the bedrooms weren’t routinely lit in summer we were still required to supply each with fresh wood and kindling. The older girls were especially fond of brewing tea or cocoa in their rooms. It was usually Gladys’ job to take it into the rooms but not her job to bring it into the house, so I was sent out for it.


I found Tomas at the woodshed already.


“Mornin’ Miss. First day at work then?”

“Yes. I’ve been sent out for wood.”


“Right you are. Now I’m not supposed to go traipsing into the house but I can help ye as far as the door, what do you say to that?”


“Thank you.” I said, because what else was there to say?

Chap22-12 Chap22-13

Tomas helped me to the door and I hauled the wood inside on my own and stacked it up ready for Gladys to take upstairs.


Frankie and I then went into the scullery where we began laying things out for the breakfast preparation. The growling in my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten yet. When did we get to eat? Surely even servants had to eat sometime.


“Now who hasn’t put the water on yet?” I lifted my at the unfamiliar voice.


“Sorry Mrs Roberts.” Frankie said, rushing to fill a large kettle.


“And who might you be?” Mrs Roberts asked me.

“Bobbie.” I answered.


“Bobbie, Mrs Roberts.” She corrected me. “And who said you’re to be called Bobbie? What’s it’s all coming to I don’t know.”

I didn’t know either but I refrained from asking what was it all and just answered.


“Yes Mrs Roberts. I— no one said, it’s just what I’m called. Short for Roberta—”


“We had a Bobbie below stairs once. A boy. It doesn’t suit. You’ll be known as Bertha below stairs. Are all the preserves laid out? Have they all their spoons? Yes, then best take them up.”

“I’ll show you where to go.” Frankie offered while I just gaped. Who was she to call me Bertha? “She doesn’t know yet, Mrs Roberts.”

“I daresay she doesn’t.”

I’m Bobbie!” I said as we made our way through the servant’s hallway with the jams and honey and all manner of yummy things.

“You don’t alway get called your name below stairs.”

“Really? How horrid!”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why you never get a servant named something fancy?”

“Well, no, but… Bertha!”


“You best mind Mrs R.” Frankie said “Hand in hand with her ladyship she is.”

“She made shortbread for me my first day here.”

“And any day since?”

“Well, no…”

“There you go then. I’ll wager it was just to impress your parents.”


My stomach dropped. My parents. I hadn’t spared them a thought all morning. They’d just been torn from my life, would I forget them so soon?

“Oh, I’m sorry Bobbie— I mean Bertha, but we have to keep moving. Keeping busy will be good for you too!”

“Can’t you call me Bobbie?” I asked as we hurried back to the kitchen. “At least when no one else is around to hear.”

“Well, if it helps. Just when no one else is around, mind!”


We reached the kitchen at the same time as Gladys.

“Is the water boiling yet? I need to make some tea.”

“Oh I’d love a cup ducky.” Mrs Roberts said.

“Not for you, for Miss Jane and her Ladyship!”

“Gladys always wakes them up with a cup of tea.” Frankie explained to me.

“When do we get breakfast?” I asked Frankie, but it was Mrs Roberts that answered.


“When you get it is if you’re lucky.” She said. “But if you make me a cuppa then you can have one yourself.

Unfortunatly Gladys was already on her way out with her tea and I’d missed seeing her make it. I looked at Frankie.

“Oh Bo— Bertha, tell me you at least know how to make tea!”


“I know how to pour it!” I said.


It turned out that making tea was easy so it didn’t take Frankie long to show me.

“I thought it was more complicated than that!” I wined as she laughed at me.

“Is that tea ready yet?” Mrs Roberts asked.

“Yes Mrs Roberts.” I answered.


Mrs Roberts took her tea with lemon so I had mine black, not daring to ask for milk as there wasn’t any on the kitchen table.

There was a knock at the kitchen door.

“Frankie, that will be the baker with the bread, would you see to him?”

“But it’s Saturday Mrs Roberts, you’ll need to fix up the bill.”

“Blast, and so I will!” Mrs Roberts sighed as she made her way to see to the baker.

“Mrs Roberts bakes the bread in the cooler months.” Frankie explained to me. “But she says it’s a waste of coal to bake it when it’s warmer.”

Gladys came rushing into the kitchen.


“Oh that Dorcus Dun!” she said, wiping her brow. “Frankie, can you lay out the napery and crockery for breakfast? You best take Bobbi with you, it goes faster with two.” She patted some creases out of her apron. “Oh blast!” Her hand dove into her pocket. “I’ll be back.” She said. “I forgot to take this to Miss Jane!”

“What is it?” Mrs Roberts asked.

“That gentleman’s card, the one wanted interview with her ladyship, she said to pass it onto Miss Jane as she didn’t have time. I were meant to leave it with her tea this mornin’!” Gladys shook her head then she was off again.

“Come on.” Frankie said.

“But I haven’t finished my tea yet!”

“Then drink faster!”

“But it’s hot.” With no milk to cool it, it was still very hot.

“Then pour it into your saucer.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Frankie showed me how to pour my tea into my saucer to cool and I giggled as I slurped it down. Then we were off once more. Laying a tablecloth is a bit like putting a sheet on a bed, only it’s a lot longer. We each took and end and shook it out and soon got it in place. Then the napkins the cutlery. The preserves We’d taken up before sat waiting on the sideboard and we added a stack of plates beside them.


Back to the kitchen and it was all a bother and a hurry with eggs to be cooked, bacon to be fried and bread to be toasted.

Chap22-30 Chap22-31

I had spoons thrust into my hands with an order to “stir that” and taken out just as abruptly with a “oh, it’ll be quicker to do it meself”.

After the breakfast went up we had to clean up the mess we made, by which time the dishes upstairs were ready to come back to the kitchen and the tables needed to be cleared. The good part about having to bring the dishes downstairs is what wouldn’t be kept for later, we could eat. I had a breakfast of cold toast and eggs and it was the best breakfast I’d ever had in my life.

Chap22-32 Chap22-33

After breakfast, the work started again. There was the rest of the dishes to be washed.


There were floors to be scrubbed and banisters to be polished and all manner of things to be dusted.


By night time we trudged up the stairs and through the corridors to our little attic room and fell into our small bed exhausted.


And thus followed every morning and so continued every day.


Posted by on 13th March, 2013 in Future's Present


Tags: , , , ,

A Letter from Lady D’Winter to…?

Dear Sir. As requested I informed the gentleman from the commission that the Hilton girl, while initially enrolled in my school for the year, departed instead with her parents after both girl and parents could not bare to be parted from one another. This then confirmed your reports of the girl having sailed on the ship with her parents. I was required to show my paperwork but my assistant had already made the necessary adjustments and the commission was satisfied. If you would please make the second payment as promptly as you are able, Regards, Lady D’Winter.


Posted by on 21st February, 2013 in Future's Present Extras!


Tags: , , , , ,


A Sims 3 Story


A Sims 3 Story

Future's Present

A Sims 3 Story

Write With Warnimont

A Manuscript for Malcontents

The Quintessential Clothes Pen

an exploration of historical costume

anna in technicolor

Historic & Vintage Sewing


A Sims 3 Story


Just another site


A Sims 3 Random Legacy

The Échappe Legacy

Sometimes you have to escape your destiny and follow your heart...

Historical Sewing

A Sims 3 Story

World of Blyton

Enthusiastic ramblings about Enid Blyton and her work!


Where my imagination runs wild...

The Lockwood Chronicle

The insanity arise...


All That Glitters...


The Addams Family Meets The Sopranos