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The CBB -> St Agnes' House

#1: Hilda's New Pet - Short and Complete Author: Aquabird, Location: North Lanarkshire, Scotland

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 5:02 pm
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I hope this is the right house for this. Just a small idea that occured to me.

A soft breeze blew into the dining room from the still April evening outside. It was Easter 1915, and the Annersley family were eating supper. Though they lived in London most of the time, they also relocated to a house in Yorkshire for some holidays, and this was where they were now.
Richard Annersley, lord and master of the household, sat at the head of the table, his blue-grey eyes grave as he thought about the goings-on in France. The eldest Annersley child, John, had signed up for the army when war had been declared, and was even now in the trenches.
At the other end of the table sat his wife Mary, who was pouring out cocoa for everyone. She too looked grave, but her eyes shone with love when she looked at her three remaining children; delicate Colin, energetic Alexander, and quiet Hilda.
“What do you intend to do after supper?” she asked, breaking the thoughtful silence that had so far prevailed.
“Practise my violin,” said Colin, an ardent music-lover. He was seventeen, but his delicacy meant he was not allowed to join the army. He helped the war effort by doing paperwork for the War Office instead.
“Take Lightning out for a quick ride across the fields,” said Alexander. “I have to call in at Stonewall Farm, anyway.”
“Go out on the moors and read,” said Hilda. “I have nearly finished my book.”
“Nothing new, then,” Mr Annersley remarked, coming out of his reverie.
“What are you going to do, Father?” Colin asked.
“I must go into the village. The cobbler has just finished with my shoes, and I need them before tomorrow.”
Silence then prevailed, for none of the Annersleys were much given to talking, preferring instead to simply enjoy being in each other’s company.
Grace was said, and then Colin disappeared upstairs to his room as Alexander and Hilda got ready to go out.
“Which way are you going?” Alexander asked Hilda.
“Round the back, up to the chestnut trees,” she replied. “I like to sit there. It’s nice and sheltered.”
“Want a lift, then? I’m going up that way myself. I’ll pick you up on the way back, too, if you like.”
Hilda agreed readily. Of her brothers, she got on better with Alexander than the other two, primarily because they were nearest in age and both still at school, and therefore at least had something in common.
Alexander and Hilda mounted Lightning, a sturdy roan colt, very obedient and dependable despite his young age. Like all animals, he adored Alexander, and delightedly accepted a lump of sugar from him.
They set off out of the yard and down the lane. They veered off the road, through the hedge and onto the moors surrounding the house. Up the hill they went, and came to a group of chestnut trees. Here Hilda dismounted, and with the promise that he would be back in half an hour, Alexander rode off.
Hilda climbed the biggest tree and sat herself down on a sturdy branch in the middle, her back resting against the trunk. She took out her book and read, completely in another world, revelling in the colourful, vivid descriptions of characters, places and events. She was so absorbed, she didn’t hear Alexander returning, a bag over his shoulder.
“Hie, Hilda!” he shouted, as he came up to the tree. “Wake up!”
Hilda came back to earth with such a start that she nearly fell out of the tree. She saved herself and began to climb down.
“What’s in the bag?” she asked, swinging herself down to the ground.
“Get on and I’ll explain,” her brother replied. Hilda climbed on behind him and they began to move again. “When I went up to Stonewall to call on Jack, he told me their stable cat had given birth, and they’ve now got five kittens to get rid of. They’re ready to leave their mother now. They can’t keep them; it’s too much expense. They’re barely managing to make the farm pay as it is.”
“And you’ve got one, haven’t you?” Hilda knew her brother well enough by now.
“Yes. Well, he practically forced me to take it. I’m not so wild on cats myself, though, so I might try to sell it elsewhere.”
“Don’t do that!” Hilda said sharply. “If you don’t want it, I’ll have it!”
“Really? I didn’t know you wanted a kitten.”
“Well, I do. I just didn’t think they’d want a cat around the house, but they don’t seem to mind the menagerie you have up in your room, so what difference will a kitten make, really?”
“Quite a difference,” Alexander said, smiling to himself at his little sister’s solemn tone. “They take a lot more looking after than a hedgehog or a bat.”
“You’ve got a bat?” Hilda demanded in awe. “Wow. May I see it?”
“I don’t have it any more. I found it lying on a rock last week; it had a bad wing. I sent it on its way yesterday.”
“Oh, well.”
“I’ll try and find another one and let you see it,” offered Alexander, amazed at Hilda’s interest. Who would have thought Hilda could be so interested in animals?
“Ohhh, thank you.”
They clattered back into the yard, dismounted and stabled Lightning after grooming him. Then they went inside. Soft mews and wails were now coming from the bag, and Alexander stopped in the hall to open it and extract the creature from its temporary prison. Hilda gave a squeal of delight as he placed the little ball of fur in her arms. The kitten looked up and yawned widely. It was a grey tabby cat, with white paws and dark grey stripes along its back. It gazed unblinkingly up at Hilda through its bulbous green eyes, purring happily.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” Hilda asked.
“A boy,” Alexander replied, as Mr and Mrs Annersley came striding out of the drawing room.
“What’s all the commotion out here?” demanded Mr Annersley. Then his wife saw the kitten in Hilda’s arms.
“Oh, Hilda, what is that?” she shrieked.
“A kitten,” replied Hilda demurely, stroking its head delicately with one finger. “Isn’t it sweet?”
“Absolutely not,” said Mr Annersley at once. “We already have a miniature zoo in Alexander’s room. I refuse to have a kitten yowling the place down, too.”
“Please, Daddy,” begged Hilda. “Please let me keep him! I promise you won’t hear a sound out of him! I’ll keep him well trained! I always wanted a kitten. Please?”
“Oh, let her keep it, Richard,” said Mrs Annersley gently. “It will be company for her, and you know that Hilda isn’t one to shirk her responsibilities.”
Mr Annersley looked from his daughter’s pleading gaze to his wife’s imploring one, and he gave way.
“All right. But I mean it, Hilda. If I so much as hear a sound out of it I’ll send it away!” With which, he strode back into the drawing room. Mrs Annersley tipped the two children a mischievous wink before following, closing the door behind her.
“Mother’s a brick, isn’t she?” beamed Hilda. “Daddy would never have agreed if she hadn’t stepped in.”
“True,” agreed Alexander. “You’d better scoot along to the kitchen and give the kitten some milk, Hilda. It will need to be fed quite often for the first few days.”
Hilda took her new pet along to the kitchen as Alexander went off upstairs. Mrs Ambrose, the Annersleys’ kindly, bustling old cook, was sitting in her rocking chair in a corner of the kitchen, knitting so fast her fingers were almost a blur.
“Well, here’s a first!” she exclaimed, dropping her needles with a start as Hilda entered. “Why, Miss Hilda, I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Mrs Ambrose,” said Hilda ruefully. “I kept meaning to come when I got home from school, but I’ve just had no time.”
“Oh, you never mind all that, miss,” said Mrs Ambrose cheerily. “I got some rock buns here, freshly made this morning. Would you like one?”
“Ohhh, yes please. You make the most smashing – I mean, excellent rock buns.” She caught herself up with a grin. “I really must stop using slang. I got into a lot of trouble last term for using it. I’ll probably pick it all up again, being home for the hols. The boys are dreadful ones for speaking slang. It drives Mother mad. She can’t abide it.”
“Aye, we know that,” grinned Mrs Ambrose, giving the girl a rock bun. “Such a time she gives young Master Alexander over it.”
Hilda grinned. “He’s the worst for it, isn’t he?” She suddenly remembered the kitten. “Mrs Ambrose, I actually came here for some milk for my new kitten. Isn’t he lovely?” And she held her newest treasure up to be admired from all angles. Mrs Ambrose looked rather agitated.
“I’m awfully sorry, Miss Hilda, but I’m afraid we simply haven’t any milk at all; I used the last of it for the cocoa at supper. There’s some of that left over, though. Would that do?”
“I expect so,” said Hilda doubtfully. “I don’t think it’ll do any harm, anyway. Could I have it, please?”
“I’ll just heat it for you, Miss Hilda. It’ll have gone cold by now.”
Five minutes later, a saucer of warm cocoa was placed on the kitchen floor, and Hilda placed the kitten down beside it. After sniffing doubtfully, the kitten lapped it up. Hilda grinned, her serious little face alight with happiness.
“I shall call him Cocoa,” she announced. “Because he likes cocoa.”
“Cocoa’s a nice name,” agreed Mrs Ambrose, as the kitten finished the milk and sat back, yawning widely. “And now you’d better get off to bed, Miss Hilda. It’s almost nine o’clock.”
Hilda’s eyes widened. “Goodness! I shall get into the most frantic row! Thanks, Mrs Ambrose!” And she gathered up her kitten and departed from the kitchen like a little whirlwind. Smiling to herself, Mrs Ambrose returned to her knitting.
Hilda found an old shoebox, and after tucking into it some scraps of material from her work-basket, she deposited Cocoa in it. The kitten yawned and lay down, and watched his mistress seriously as Hilda undressed, washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair, said her prayers, then got into bed. She grinned at the kitten.
“Goodnight, Cocoa.” And she turned the light off, lay down and fell asleep.

#2: Author: Kate, Location: Ireland

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 5:28 pm
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Awwww, that was lovely. Thanks Aquabird!

#3: Author: Elle, Location: Peterborough

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 6:44 pm
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Ahhhh...

Anything with kittens in it is great in my opinion!

Thanks.

#4: Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 7:26 pm
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Thanks. What is it about the CBB that we're most of us cat-lovers?

#5: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 7:32 pm
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Awwwwww - that was lovely Very Happy

Thanks Aquabird

#6: Author: Liane, Location: Manchester

Posted: Mon Sep 25, 2006 8:47 pm
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Aww that was so cute. I really liked little Hilda!

#7: Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 12:31 pm
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Thanks Aquabird, that was lovely!

#8: Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!!

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 4:46 pm
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Oh! That was so sweet! Thanks Aquabird!

#9: Re: Hilda's New Pet - Short and Complete Author: Alice, Location: London, England

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 5:19 pm
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Thanks Aquabird.

Aquabird wrote:

“You’ve got a bat?” Hilda demanded in awe. “Wow. May I see it?”

I particularly noticed the 'May' there!

#10: Author: Elle, Location: Peterborough

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 8:12 pm
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Jennie wrote:

Thanks. What is it about the CBB that we're most of us cat-lovers?

That is not how my brother describes me, he said I was 'one of them mad cat ladies'! And he posted this on his photo site. G*t.

#11: Author: Kate, Location: Ireland

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 8:23 pm
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Jennie wrote:

Thanks. What is it about the CBB that we're most of us cat-lovers?

Isn't it weird? I wonder if we're stereotypes... But then we're all so different that we each seem to break the mould of any stereotype there is. Yay the CBB!

#12: Author: Aquabird, Location: North Lanarkshire, Scotland

Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2006 8:29 pm
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Cats actually make me sneeze when they get too close. Wink

I love them, though. We had one that was eighteen when she died; she was even older than I am now! Shocked

We have a dog, though; a labrador cross called Honey. Mum, who went misty-eyed over a birthday card with a labrador on it (it was a scary sight), wants another one. Dad is not keen. Probably because he'll be the one who ends up taking it out. Laughing