10th Birthday - George
He was ten today.
He didn’t have to do his studies because of it. He didn’t have any choirs to do because of it. He got to do what ever he wanted today, with in reason. Though he had to also stay out of the way, as it was also Young Master Wembley St. John’s birthday as well. He was 4 today himself.
Some of the maids were grumbling as they stood in the kitchen, washing glasses and polishing silver ware. “A pony! Did ya see tha’? A full sized pony. An’ it’s na’ even a reental!” her thick accent accentuating the surprise in this. “’e’s only a wee four year ol’e! What’s ‘e goin’ ta do wit’ a pony!”
“As long as I do not have to clean up the mess, that’s all that matters to me.” Complained a heavier set older woman, drying glasses.
“I think it’s cute! Can you see the little tot on it now? The mistress surely will have a photographer take pictures. Plaster them all over the place for a month, you’ll see.” She giggled, a high pitched annoying wild girlish giggle, making the other woman laugh too. The older woman looked on disapproving.
“It’s going to be a mess, but what the young master wants, he gets.”
George looked out the window again, his hands pressed to the glass, on tip toe, as if that would make him tall enough to see past the tents that were going up, the folding chairs that were being set up for guests. This was a birthday party for a child? It seemed more like a reception for a social gathering.
Which would be more to the point of what it was really. Gifts were brought, guests came in hordes to fawn over the woman of the house and her children. Presents and things that were for not only the youngest son but for her as well.
George had escaped, scrambling off to the party, hiding through. He was dressed simple enough, and clean, so he wouldn’t be embarrassing his father or anything, but he wasn’t in the proper appearance to get too close. He snuck about, his own birthday forgotten by all as well as himself. He snuck around and watched.
Seeing Marjorie, Wembley’s older sister he paused, moving to hide behind a near by tree, peeking around. The girl had taken her little brother for a small walk, just a bit away from the hustle and bustle of the party. She walked him to a gazebo, talking to him. George couldn’t hear what was said at all, but he tried to hear. He tried.
The girl fascinated him. She didn’t scream about a spider in her room, or cause a huge fuss, but she wouldn’t touch it either. At first he just though she was being prissy, to not want to touch something so dirty, because she didn’t act scared at all about it. But soon he realized she was terrified of it and just… hid it very well.
He’d taken care of the spider and she thanked him. Actually spoke to him, even asking his name. Though he was sure the girl had forgotten it already. She was nearly his age, but she would have loads better things to remember then some servants boy.
None the less he was mildly taken by her, and snuck off to follow, to watch.
The girl walker her little brother to a gazebo and sat him down on a bench with is toy. She played with his hair a moment and fixed his clothing, as if fussing over him, laughing with him softly and all.
He had snuck around to the side of the gazebo, its raised level just high enough that he could crouch there and look on to the two. He didn’t do anything, just watched. They were very cute together and she was so kind.
It was when he sneezed, a bit of the grass or pollen bothering his nose that they found him, the girl having jumped up, seeing his face in the lattice work, and coming over, leaning over the edge of the railing.
“Boy? What are you doing?”
So she had forgotten, already. He swallowed, looking up and feeling guilty, spying on the two. “I… I was…”
The girl smiled down at him, just about to say something when someone called, not more then a few yards away. “Kids? Come now, you shouldn’t neglect the party!” one of the nurse maids had come to collect them. The girl called back “Yes, we’ll be there in a moment!” and then looked back down at his upturned face.
“Stay here a few moment’s George… don’t go away yet.” And she was gone before he could say anything.
He blinked, raising up a bit and looking through the gazebo, watching as the girl scooped her brother up, the boy too big for her to carry, but she pulled him up, jumped down the steps, sat him on his feet and encouraged him to run with her.
He watched them run off, still feeling surprised. She remembered his name. She told him to stay there and… and she remembered his name.
He turned, and sat down, leaning back on the gazebo wall on the outside, around the bushes and things that decorated it’s outside. She said to wait, and so he did. He didn’t know why, but she told him to, and so he would.
It wasn’t more then ten minutes later that he heard the sounds of feet, the sounds of someone walking up the steps into the white gazebo. He held his breath, fearful that it would be someone else and he’d get into trouble, but then…
“George?” came a soft voice. He blinked, stood up, peeked over the railing. The girl gave him a small smile, looked back, then walked closer, sitting a small paper plate and a fork on the railing with a large piece of cake. A cake so rich looking he couldn’t imagine anyone actually eating it. It was too pretty. “Here. For you! Eat it here, so no one sees.”
And then she took off, running out again to go back to the party. He reached up, taking the plate, watched her run off and then… with large eyes, turned to sit down again, a large piece of cake in his lap and a slow growing smile.
“Happy birthday, George.” He said to himself. With no guilt what so ever he picked up the fork and took a huge bite of it.
The cake still tasted bad. But he ate every bite of it, and only with a slight misting of his eyes.
He didn’t have to do his studies because of it. He didn’t have any choirs to do because of it. He got to do what ever he wanted today, with in reason. Though he had to also stay out of the way, as it was also Young Master Wembley St. John’s birthday as well. He was 4 today himself.
Some of the maids were grumbling as they stood in the kitchen, washing glasses and polishing silver ware. “A pony! Did ya see tha’? A full sized pony. An’ it’s na’ even a reental!” her thick accent accentuating the surprise in this. “’e’s only a wee four year ol’e! What’s ‘e goin’ ta do wit’ a pony!”
“As long as I do not have to clean up the mess, that’s all that matters to me.” Complained a heavier set older woman, drying glasses.
“I think it’s cute! Can you see the little tot on it now? The mistress surely will have a photographer take pictures. Plaster them all over the place for a month, you’ll see.” She giggled, a high pitched annoying wild girlish giggle, making the other woman laugh too. The older woman looked on disapproving.
“It’s going to be a mess, but what the young master wants, he gets.”
George looked out the window again, his hands pressed to the glass, on tip toe, as if that would make him tall enough to see past the tents that were going up, the folding chairs that were being set up for guests. This was a birthday party for a child? It seemed more like a reception for a social gathering.
Which would be more to the point of what it was really. Gifts were brought, guests came in hordes to fawn over the woman of the house and her children. Presents and things that were for not only the youngest son but for her as well.
George had escaped, scrambling off to the party, hiding through. He was dressed simple enough, and clean, so he wouldn’t be embarrassing his father or anything, but he wasn’t in the proper appearance to get too close. He snuck about, his own birthday forgotten by all as well as himself. He snuck around and watched.
Seeing Marjorie, Wembley’s older sister he paused, moving to hide behind a near by tree, peeking around. The girl had taken her little brother for a small walk, just a bit away from the hustle and bustle of the party. She walked him to a gazebo, talking to him. George couldn’t hear what was said at all, but he tried to hear. He tried.
The girl fascinated him. She didn’t scream about a spider in her room, or cause a huge fuss, but she wouldn’t touch it either. At first he just though she was being prissy, to not want to touch something so dirty, because she didn’t act scared at all about it. But soon he realized she was terrified of it and just… hid it very well.
He’d taken care of the spider and she thanked him. Actually spoke to him, even asking his name. Though he was sure the girl had forgotten it already. She was nearly his age, but she would have loads better things to remember then some servants boy.
None the less he was mildly taken by her, and snuck off to follow, to watch.
The girl walker her little brother to a gazebo and sat him down on a bench with is toy. She played with his hair a moment and fixed his clothing, as if fussing over him, laughing with him softly and all.
He had snuck around to the side of the gazebo, its raised level just high enough that he could crouch there and look on to the two. He didn’t do anything, just watched. They were very cute together and she was so kind.
It was when he sneezed, a bit of the grass or pollen bothering his nose that they found him, the girl having jumped up, seeing his face in the lattice work, and coming over, leaning over the edge of the railing.
“Boy? What are you doing?”
So she had forgotten, already. He swallowed, looking up and feeling guilty, spying on the two. “I… I was…”
The girl smiled down at him, just about to say something when someone called, not more then a few yards away. “Kids? Come now, you shouldn’t neglect the party!” one of the nurse maids had come to collect them. The girl called back “Yes, we’ll be there in a moment!” and then looked back down at his upturned face.
“Stay here a few moment’s George… don’t go away yet.” And she was gone before he could say anything.
He blinked, raising up a bit and looking through the gazebo, watching as the girl scooped her brother up, the boy too big for her to carry, but she pulled him up, jumped down the steps, sat him on his feet and encouraged him to run with her.
He watched them run off, still feeling surprised. She remembered his name. She told him to stay there and… and she remembered his name.
He turned, and sat down, leaning back on the gazebo wall on the outside, around the bushes and things that decorated it’s outside. She said to wait, and so he did. He didn’t know why, but she told him to, and so he would.
It wasn’t more then ten minutes later that he heard the sounds of feet, the sounds of someone walking up the steps into the white gazebo. He held his breath, fearful that it would be someone else and he’d get into trouble, but then…
“George?” came a soft voice. He blinked, stood up, peeked over the railing. The girl gave him a small smile, looked back, then walked closer, sitting a small paper plate and a fork on the railing with a large piece of cake. A cake so rich looking he couldn’t imagine anyone actually eating it. It was too pretty. “Here. For you! Eat it here, so no one sees.”
And then she took off, running out again to go back to the party. He reached up, taking the plate, watched her run off and then… with large eyes, turned to sit down again, a large piece of cake in his lap and a slow growing smile.
“Happy birthday, George.” He said to himself. With no guilt what so ever he picked up the fork and took a huge bite of it.
The cake still tasted bad. But he ate every bite of it, and only with a slight misting of his eyes.