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A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02
http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=9020

Author:  Finn [ Sat Jan 22, 2011 11:39 pm ]
Post subject:  A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

Short-ish piece based on old-fashioned counting songs. The counting song is mine, except for the first line.


One is one, is all alone, and evermore shall be so

Why did they leave me?

The thought resounded around her head as she went about the rather distasteful task, scrubbing and sponging and dousing with water. Why? Of course it wasn’t business that took them away, that had imprisoned her here, first as a boarder, now for life. She had known it wasn’t business, and they had known that she knew; and that made it worse, that they had prepared to abandon her in the full knowledge that she was expecting it, and that they had abandoned her anyway, without a second thought. It was hateful of them, utterly hateful, and she didn’t think she would ever stop being angry with them. She began to wonder why she hadn’t run away before they could do it again. Surely that would have been less humiliating? What could be worse than this – thrown on the charity of a stranger, trapped here in this little valley, at the mercy of foreign prefects and unable, now, even to make a stand against their authority? For she would have to behave! No more monkey tricks, no more trying to get one over Madame and the prefects. That warm summer’s evening when Madame had received her father’s letter, everything had changed. She was no longer part of a family. She was one, all alone, no-one in the world to rely on but herself; and she had wit enough to know that the best way to secure her future was to make herself as indispensible as possible.

Oh, she hated them! She had hated them for so long, and now she could never forgive them. The anger bubbled in her and she burned with her fury, and took vengeance in her scrubbing.

“Ow!”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, oh, no, Juliet! And it’s very kind of you to bath me. Thank you so much.”

Kind, indeed. But who would not be kind in response to such kindness from another? As much as she hated her parents for this…this disposal of her, so much did she trust Madame. How astounding, that someone to whom she had been nothing but trouble could extend the hand of forgiveness, give her a second chance! Her parents had never given her a second chance, though she had given them one. When they had left her at the Hills, they had wrecked her. To abandon a child – what person could do such a thing? How awful must that child be, for its parents willingly to abandon it, exposed upon the rocks, left to the predations of the vultures and the other wild creatures? She had been shattered, baffled, left utterly without foundation. To have loved them, and for them to treat her thus?

But they had taken her back, and though it was unwillingly and though she was made quite painfully aware that she was nothing but an encumbrance to them, she had forgiven them. She had given them another chance.

And now this.

No more forgiveness. Henceforth her allegiance was transferred. If she could not have parents who loved her, if she could not be part of a family, at least she could have a guardian who trusted her. And she would work. Oh, she would work. She wasn’t about to let them blight her life forever.

She saw Grizel and Joey whispering, and knew they were talking about her. Let them. She had a life to live. She was angry, but mostly she knew that she was going to succeed. How could she not? She had nothing left to lose.

Author:  Abi [ Sat Jan 22, 2011 11:50 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Poor Juliet; such a horrible thing to happen. Her feelings come across so strongly here. Thanks Finn. :)

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 2:08 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Thanks Finn, poor Juliet, that first term must have been so difficult for her

Author:  shazwales [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 4:51 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

The situation that Juliet was left in was horrible! thanks Finn.

Author:  Lesley [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 7:51 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

((((Juliet))))


Thanks Finn

Author:  jayj [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 10:31 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Ooh, how very interesting! I'm looking forward to seeing where this is going. Juliet's mixture of anger and fierce rationalism ("Henceforth her allegiance was transferred") is quite compelling, and thank god that she found someone like Madge to look after her.

What's most interesting about this, though, is how Amy Stevens is almost completely obliterated from the scene. I thought Juliet was scrubbing floors, she was doing it with such ferocity, and it's not until the bit of dialogue that it becomes clear what is actually going on. And even then, it's like Juliet doesn't actually see Amy because she's so blinded by her own rage and sorrow.

Thanks Finn - very thought provoking!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 6:24 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Yes, I wondered what she was doing until the line with Amy. Poor Juliet, it must have been such a ghastly time, especially if she had given her parents a 'second chance'. The fact that she phrases it like that, as well, is so telling.

Thankyou.

Author:  chris84 [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 8:16 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Poor Juliet :(. Thank you Finn.

Author:  Miss Di [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 10:55 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

I love Green grow the rushes oh! so am looking forward to where you go with this Finn.

Author:  Finn [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 11:10 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Counting Song

Thanks for the comments!

Two together, one and one, each other to rely upon

The Chalet was quiet, all the girls slumbering peacefully in their beds. It was late; he had heard Madame make her final round of the dormitories. She had forgotten, for a moment, that she had turned out the two girls from this room to make way for her guests – she had hesitated outside the door, pausing with her hand on the door handle, before remembering and moving away, passing on to the next dormitory.

That had been, oh, half an hour ago now, and yet still he was up and dressed. He did not like sleeping in new places, and he had not yet felt even remotely tired. Instead he had sprawled on the bed, fully clothed, reading through Herr Anserl’s Life of the Austrian Composers which the man himself had given him only a week ago, while Sarah had fussed around behind the curtain that separated them, asking him at intervals if he intended to sleep at all this night? She had not been very determined, however; she was very much upset by the storm and the prospect of a flood and was entirely unlike her usual self.

Poor, dear Sarah. He worried about her. However much he may have teased her when they were children, water held a very real terror for her. He had done his best to reassure her, saying that the river seemed much lower than before and that perhaps there would be no flood after all, but still she was tense and nervous, and it was only through Mademoiselle’s kind attentions that she had eaten anything at all at Abendessen. And still she had been white and anxious all evening, a shadow of herself, and had sat very near to him, stealing comfort from his presence.

Now he could hear from her regular breathing that she slept, and for that he was relieved. He laid his book aside and stood up, crossed to the window and, as quietly as he could, opened the shutters. The moonlight glimmered palely down upon the mountainsides and upon the pastureland, illuminating it all in eerie grey light; the trees stood stark and the shadows were deeper, darker than usual, in sharp contrast to the pale fields of the valley. He turned his head and his gaze fell upon the lake itself, rippled with silvery fingers of light, the trees at its fringes black against the moonlit water. He breathed deeply, the sombre beauty of the night reaching in and soothing him, touching his troubled heart with its solemn majesty.

He heard a click from one of the windows nearby, and he looked across and down and after a few moments Madame leaned out, her dark hair loose about her bare shoulders, gazing out as he had done on the beauty of the night. So she, too, was still awake, and most likely anxious, as he was, about this unwelcome prospect. He was about to call softly down to greet her, but just at that moment a new sound disturbed the peace of the valley, an alarming sound, a low, rapid, roaring noise, quiet now but growing louder, and he turned to look up the valley and his heart rose to his mouth to see what he had hoped not to see, as he saw Sarah’s worst nightmare hurtling across the pastureland towards them, and he took a deep breath and glanced over at her slumbering form, and then out at that horrifying wall of water that was now crashing through Briesau and coming on, breaking through the fence and…

Sarah awoke with a startled cry, and he swung the shutters hastily closed and stood with his back to them, and she saw his face, pale in the lamplight, and her eyes grew wide and she took a deep breath and asked, shakily,

“Tristan, what’s happening?”

He hesitated, but there was nothing he could say – the dogs were barking, there were girls crying out and the patter of running feet, and Sarah realised what must have happened because the colour drained from her face and her breath grew rapid, her eyes widening in panic. The momentary hesitation was over; he went straight to her and took her hands as she clutched at the bedclothes in her terror and he tried to force her to look at him.

“Sarah…Sarah,” he said, gently, “Sarah, we are safe. Sarah…”

But she was not listening – she pulled her hands from his grasp and bit down upon her fists, trying to control her panic. He fought to stop her and she struggled with him, her breath coming in desperate gasps until, at last, she burst into frantic sobs and collapsed in on herself, her face in her hands. He sat down beside her and put his arm tentatively around her, stroking her hair, as the footsteps of the girls ran hither and thither outside the door, and he wondered how far the water had reached now and whether they should move higher. But Sarah was in no state to move; she was gasping again, her breath far too fast, and he could not remember how to calm her – he could only sit there, helplessly, his arm around her shoulders and her hand gripping his, and all he could say was,

“Do not worry, Sarah dear. I will not let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jan 23, 2011 11:19 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

Enjoying this :D .

Author:  jayj [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 9:32 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

Quite brilliant - thanks Finn!

Author:  PaulineS [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 10:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

thanks Finn.

Author:  chris84 [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 4:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

Thanks Finn, this is brilliant. :)

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 5:08 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

That was a wonderful scene, but poor Sarah. It must have been an absolutely horrible night for her.

Thankyou.

Author:  Finn [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 6:29 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 23/01

Thanks again, all.


Three’s a crowd, is one plus two, one left out from two’s to-do

Waiting, waiting, waiting. If only they could finish! Tears, welling up, but if you bit your lip to keep them back someone would only notice and would ask you what you were about. That was the thing about life here – people asked questions. And they dragged you about, even when you did not want to go, and then when you did go with them they chattered so fast you could not understand everything, and they talked of old times past, of events in which you played no part, of people you had never met, and they laughed at their English jokes and wanted to climb trees and roll in the dirt, and there was no peace to be had with them. And still you were alone, even while you were with them, and still you ached and longed to have just one friend, one friend in the world, but when you lay in bed at night, stifling your tears in your pillow, she never came to you.

And so you sobbed for Mamma instead, for Mamma and for home, for the place where you were accepted, where you were welcomed, where tomorrow was much like today and where all things were in order, and nothing happened that you did not expect. Where you could cook and bake to your heart’s content, where you could help Mamma clean and tidy, and make sure your sister had said her lessons. And you sobbed for the evenings when, after everything was cooked and cleaned and made ready, Papa would come in and wrap you in one of his hugs, kiss you swiftly, the bristles of his cheek rubbing against your face, and ask you if you had been a good girl today? And you sobbed when you remembered the proud, satisfied smile on his face as you answered, honestly, “Yes, Papa, I have been a good girl.”

The tears press hard, sore and stinging, but breaking down in front of everyone would be disastrous. No-one must know! How awful, if they were to find out how unhappy you are here. Mamma would feel such guilt, and Papa would be so disappointed, and everyone would say, what is the point of an education if you are unhappy? And they would take you home, and what ingratitude, what a shame, what a waste…

And so you must bear it, though you are so lonely, the third of the three. And soon you shall be the fifth of the five, and still only one, still the only one who does not understand these English quirks, still the last to be thought of, still the only one to be alone.

If only you could have a friend! If only she would be there, at all times; a friend as dear as a sister, as close as two born together, someone on whom to lean, on whom to rely, who will always turn to you before anyone else, who will always be yours!

At last, the time comes for escape, for solitude, for the tears you burn to cry, and so you do. It is still painful, but it is better than restraint, better than the heat of unshed tears locked up inside your eyes, and it is a relief to heave the pain out into the open air, to shout silently all the things you long to say. The things you could say, if you only had her, your friend.

And, suddenly…

‘Si—i—i—mo—one’

It is her! She has come for you!

But…

How can you answer? If she finds you, she will know everything! She will know how much you despise it here, how much you wish to be at home, with Mamma and Papa and Renée, and she will tell them, and Cousine Elise will be so sad that you are not happy here, and…

No. It is impossible. She must not find you, though it is all you long for, from the depths of your heart. With her at your side, no longer would you be the third of three. You would be one of two, together forever.

But she must not find you.

Author:  jayj [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 7:12 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Finn, you've made me cry. And I don't do crying!

Poor, poor Simone :cry: unbelievably heartbreaking.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 7:21 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Poor Simone, the early days of the school were always hard for her, and EBD doesn't always present her in a sympathetic light.

Thankyou.

Author:  Abi [ Mon Jan 24, 2011 9:17 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Simone really had a hard time. I suppose you couldn't altogether expect Joey and Grizel to realise how difficult it was for her, but it's terribly sad that no-one did.

Author:  mohini [ Tue Jan 25, 2011 4:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Thanks. This is wonderful. You have caught the feelings so well.

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Jan 25, 2011 7:45 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Poor Simone :( .

Author:  chris84 [ Tue Jan 25, 2011 8:39 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Poor Simone :(.

Author:  Elbee [ Wed Jan 26, 2011 8:18 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Wow, Finn, very powerful writing. Thank you.

Author:  Miss Di [ Thu Jan 27, 2011 3:39 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

This is great, thanks Finn, am feeling very sorry for everyone you're writing about!

Author:  roversgirl [ Mon Jan 31, 2011 5:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Just found this and think it's brilliant. I really feel sorry for those characters. Thanks :-)

Author:  Joanne [ Mon Jan 31, 2011 8:41 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

I'm finding this very interesting - always did feel sorry for Simone :(

Thanks - and looking forward to some more :)

Author:  Finn [ Mon Feb 14, 2011 9:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 24/01

Thanks for the comments. Sorry to leave it languishing. Real life, eh?

*
Perfect four is two twice met, makes the ideal quartet

It was funny how much more smoothly everything was running now, thought Madge, as she sat writing letters in the staffroom, waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive. At first she and Mademoiselle had struggled to keep on top of the work, for even though it had only been a small school in its early days, there had still been such a great deal to do and one of them, at least, had not had much experience of teaching!

She smiled in memory of her younger self, although, as she reminded herself, she had not been much younger then – after all, the school had barely been open a year yet. Strange, how much older she felt than that day, that spine-tingling, stomach-trembling, lip-biting day when, for the first time, she had walked out in front of her girls, her delightful girls, and had spoken her first words as headmistress. And she giggled to think how she had gone about plaguing poor Thérèse with questions about teaching – did she think this was a good book for the seniors, or would it tax their English too much? Was this a bad idea for a history lesson? Would it be better if she took the younger girls more slowly – Simone did seem to be struggling a little? And always, always she was asking: were the girls happy? Were they happy, were they settled? You have experience of teaching, Thérèse – what do you think?

And dear Thérèse had smiled at her, and had answered yes, or no, had made suggestions here, observations there…and slowly but steadily, she had learned to muddle through.

But mathematics – no, that had proven too much for them. So Mollie Maynard had been drafted into their experiment – for experiment it certainly still was! But with her there, things began to grow easier, and Madge had begun to feel more like a headmistress with another member of staff under her – and Mollie, an excellent addition to the staff despite her youth, had never treated her as anything else.

At times she felt she was growing old too soon, what with Joey and Grizel to look after, and then poor Juliet, and now the Robin, of course. She wondered how she would manage with her – after all, the poor baby had only just lost her mother. And there were times when she felt young – so young – too young for all this! There were moments that surprised her, startled her back into the schoolgirl she had been not so many years ago – like this summer, when they had been in the train crash and that man had called her “girl”, and after she’d just hauled Frau Berlin out of her carriage, too! He’d been pleasant enough, of course, but still, she had been quite indignant! Why, she was 25 now, not a schoolgirl. She huffed slightly in pique, and then caught up with herself and giggled.

Yes, sometimes she felt too young. But then, Mollie was even younger, and yet they had managed beautifully last term. But this year they were the perfect team, now that Marjorie Durrant had come out to join them. The four of them, each with their particular strengths: Marjorie, ever dependable, strong and energetic; Mollie, strict when she needed to be but warmly humorous the rest of the time, and terribly practical; and Thérèse, always patient, always kind, with a warm word for everyone, and so wonderfully wise. And she, the fourth of that quartet – she hesitated to name her own strengths, for she was far too modest, but she was bright enough to know that she was a vital member of their little band; that, indeed, it could not function without her.

Glancing at her watch, she put aside her letter and pen and turned as her three colleagues came in. First came mild Mademoiselle, then sturdy Miss Durrant and clever Miss Maynard. Her perfect team.

“Good morning, ladies,” she smiled, and they smiled in response to her greeting. “Shall we get started?”

Author:  PaulineS [ Mon Feb 14, 2011 10:05 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

thanks for the update.

Author:  roversgirl [ Tue Feb 15, 2011 5:34 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

Thanks for the lovely update. :-)

Author:  jayj [ Tue Feb 15, 2011 9:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

I do like Madge in the early books! This is very nice, and I like her memories of Jem here.

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Feb 15, 2011 9:53 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

The early days were the best :D .

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Feb 15, 2011 8:36 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

They do work so perfectly in the early books - thankyou!

This makes me wish that EBD had kept the school a small one for the series *sigh*

Author:  Miss Di [ Wed Feb 16, 2011 6:25 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

And in Austria CM.

Thanks Finn.

Author:  chris84 [ Thu Feb 17, 2011 8:46 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

Thank you Finn, that was lovely. :D

Author:  Abi [ Sat Feb 19, 2011 11:58 am ]
Post subject:  Re: A CS Counting Song u/d 14/02

That was a beautiful look at the earliest years of the School, and interesting to see the way that Madge relied on Mademoiselle, especially at first.

Thanks Finn. :D

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