Review, Revision, Edit and Update
Today's review was just that. A review. Could I have made some revisions? Possibly, but I had absolutely no writerly urge to tinker with this episode.
This brings me to character development. To be believable and real, relationships between characters need to show human connection. In the midst of heavy grief, the relationship between Elizabeth and Martha seemed solid and comfortable. Elizabeth's profound grief asked for some distance, which Martha offered.
One of the values of review, is to catch missteps. After posting, I recognized one such misstep. The original title: Two Old Friends confused the order of episodes, so I have taken two out of the title to read Old Friends.
Old Friends
Elizabeth finally got out of bed. She was fed up with tossing and turning. Sleep interrupted by shadowed dreams. She and Lily playing in the field behind their house. Reading her sister’s letters. Writing letters to her sister. The day she got on the ship that would take her half way across the world from her dear sister, Lily. She had come down to the wharf and given her a small heart shaped gold pendant. Elizabeth woke up, holding the locket, a tear escaping one eye. “No sense in trying to get back to sleep.” Elizabeth Saunders, Cook at the Beaufort Estate, sat up stiffly, dragging her legs over the bedside. Only for a moment, she held her head in her hands. “Get up, Lizzie-girl. Get to the kitchen where it feels normal. I’ll try not to waken Martha.”
~~~~~
Martha Haverstock-Digby was confused. Where was she? The bed was warm and cosy but felt different. She could smell coffee brewing. James was up already? She opened her eyes, squinting against the morning light. Slowly, she remembered the evening before. Coming to Elizabeth, sending Samuel to James and something about fresh banana bread. Martha sat up, rubbing her eyes. “My goodness, I hope Elizabeth slept last night.”
Martha put on the robe Elizabeth had given her the night before and slipped her feet into borrowed slippers. She found Elizabeth in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee, reading letters. Cautiously, Martha said “Good morning, Elizabeth.” Still holding one of the letters, she raised her eyes. “Oh…..Martha…I’ve set a mug for you by the coffee. There’s scones warming in the oven.” She went back to reading the letter. She finished it, folded it carefully, and slid it back into its envelope. Stacking them up, she retied them with the maroon ribbon that had held them. “Martha. I’m done with it. This grieving, crying and sadness………” She held up her hands. “…don’t say it. It’s too early. I know I’ve said grieving takes a lot longer than a day. But that’s when it was somebody else. I just can’t live like this.” She filled her mug with the coffee that Martha set on the table. Stirred in a big spoon of sugar and some cream. “Elizabeth, that’s not like you. Oh, not the grieving but the way you’ve fixed your coffee. We all must grieve in our own way and time.” Gently she said “You might consider writing to Charlie. Your letter may be a comfort to him and would keep you in touch with his grandson, Clayton. But enough of that. Lets the two of us have a good breakfast and go for a walk. You can walk me home!”
~~~~~
Anyone listening in, would have heard the two old friends talking over many things. What they were having for breakfast. When Miss Emelina would be back from the city. How many shifts Dr. Jeremy would have before he was out to the Estate. Whether the snow drops were still blooming. What other flowers were decorating the landscape around the Estate grounds. Anything but grieving, crying or sadness. While Elizabeth tidied the kitchen, Martha went to her room to dress and take up the sheets from the bed. The morning was lovely; damp after a light rain in the night. Everything glistened in the morning sun. They walked onto the estate, looking at the spring flowers.”Look Martha, the apple trees are lovely and green, flowers budding. Samuel should be bringing me a good crop of apples this fall.” Even as she spoke with hope in her voice, she brushed a tear away. “Dear, would you mind if I stop at the Estate and get to work in the kitchen. There should be food ready for the Dr. and Miss Emelina - I’m not sure what’s there.” Martha put her hand gently on her friend’s arm. “Are you sure? I don’t mind at all. James should be in his office - I’ll stop to say good morning to him, then go home. If I don’t rest at home, he’ll fuss at me like an old mother hen.” Arm in arm, they continued their slow walk to the Estate manor. Elizabeth would put head and hands to use in cooking and organizing. Martha would leave her friend to her grief and return home.
“You care so much you feel as though you
will bleed to death with the pain of it.”
J.K.Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order for the Phoenix
No comments:
Post a Comment