Chapter One, Episode 81 - Cottage Life - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit, Revision and Update
Revision seems to be what is most needed in the last many Episodes. This Episode is no different, except that it is out of order. Yesterday, after I had completed the Revision for Episode 82, I realized my misstep - Episode 81 had been left behind. Consequently, I backed up and have done it today. A brief review of Episode 82 today, assured me that I hadn't over revised it. 

For today's revisioning of Episode 81 - Cottage Life - detail was added, some sentence structure altered, and some dialogue broken up to provide the clarity of scene setting.

There were only one or two typos that were repaired - that has become the easy part of this very storied writing exercise.

Cottage Life

“There was a community here once, you know.” She was a tall lady, erect and proud. Dressed in a deep plum pantsuit with a crisp white linen shirt, she was style itself. Her gold bangles with hammered gold earrings and pendant were understated. Plum coloured flats kept her from towering over James. Graciola Manorly met Digby at the cottage he and Samuel had spoken about the day before. 

“A community you say?" James had purposely arrived before Martha, so he had a moment to speak with Ms. Manorly, but he barely had a chance before he saw Martha coming up the walk. "By the way, my fiancée will be meeting us here shortly. She had some work to finish up and couldn’t come right away………There she is coming now.” James felt his face grow warm when he said ‘fiancée’.

Martha had been walking at a good pace, suddenly stopped, shaded her eyes and exclaimed “Graciola Manorly!….Is that you?” 

Graciola looked in the direction James had pointed and exclaimed "Well, I'll be!" She turned away from Digby and began walking towards Martha. “It certainly is, Martha Haverstock. Are you the finacée we’re waiting for?" She looked back at Digby. "Mr. Digby, if Martha is ‘the one’ then you are a very lucky man - and pretty smart as well!"

James almost felt out of place. He had been nervous about introducing Martha and Ms. Manorly, but now he just felt like an intruder. The two women were already on the veranda at the front door of the quaint little cottage. Martha turned, walked the length of it, and found it wrapped around to a side door. She called out “Gracie where does this door take me?”

In a combination of the chatter of old friends and the patter of a Real Estate agent, Gracie walked with Martha around the veranda, stopping at the side door. From her heavy ring of keys, she checked a few then found the one she wanted. Gracie unlocked the side door and invited Martha inside.“To the kitchen, Martha and you will love it." Gracie called out to James "Mr. Digby, come in this way. We left you standing at the front door." Excited that Martha was her client and not waiting for Digby, she continued. "The previous owners, a young couple, made everything new again. They did extensive work in here……took a wall out, added an extra room and in the master bedroom an ensuite bathroom. They painted and drywalled and……well I think we’d better wait for your Mr. Digby before I tell you anything more…..So why haven’t you told me about him before. My goodness he’s good looking. I knew you had worked with man named a Digby for years, but never thought that’s who you were all ga-ga about.”

Long time friends, Gracie and Martha went to church together. At least they had gone to church together before the pandemic restrictions closed everything. They sang in the choir and had set up for family gatherings, church group functions and community raffles. When James still had not come in, Martha stuck her head out the door and called him. “James, we’re around here.” She began to retrace her steps to the front looking for him. They met half way. Martha steered him towards the kitchen door, talking all the way. "Gracie and I have known each other for years. I like to keep my work life separate from my community life, so I never thought that, when you talked about the nice Real Estate lady, that it would be Gracie."

“Come into your new home, lovebirds!” Graciola open the side door in a sweeping motion. "I was going to go through the cottage and usher you in through the front door of the house, but here you are at the kitchen door." Gracie suddenly got serious. "It's part of my responsibility to tell you the Real Estate board guidelines for showing. Use this hand sanitizer while you’re still outside. Don’t touch anything - not a thing. If there’s a door you want opened, a light you want on please tell me and I will do it for you. Originally only one person could come in for a showing, however because your ‘bubble’ now includes James, Martha, I can allow you both to come in. There. I think that’s all. Just don’t touch anything……Now welcome and enter in!”

“Ooo, that will be hard, Gracie, but I think we’ll manage. It will be harder for me than for James. And Gracie, watch you don’t try any of your sale tactics on me. You know it won’t work. Remember that rummage sale and all the things you wanted me to buy? Well, if you’re not careful the same thing will happen here……..Oh, my…..” Martha, looking past the kitchen to the open area of the cottage, was silent for a long time.......“James, look. This cottage is perfectly charming.” Finally. James had been noticed. “It does seem very comfortable. Let’s let Ms. Manorly show us the whole house, not just the first thing that we see.” 

“Well, of course.” Martha was all business again and took in the room. A fireplace, delicate crown molding around the ceiling that continued down a hallway. Three bedrooms, a full bathroom and a closet at the end of the hall. The little cottage was emptied of furniture. Martha was already imagining their favourite pieces of furniture in place. She walked over to stand at the front door, another 'Oh, my' escaping her mouth when she saw that the first view was of the back garden. A large window, bordered by richly coloured stained glass panels, welcomed everyone into the cottage. 

Graciola's voice pulled Martha back into reality “Before I take you back into the kitchen, and through the rest of the house, let me take you into the back yard. Prior to the young couple's renovations, there was not much but grass and some rock. They got one of those TV show couples in here to help them start a yard. I think you’ll quite like it. You do get a view of it when you come in the front door, but what you couldn’t see was this deck. This is all brand new. There had been a full wrap around verandah, all the way from the front, but the wood at the back was rotting so had to be replaced. They did retain the roof, extended it to cover all the deck and replaced the supports.”

Soon, Digby spoke up. “Can we get back to the kitchen and the rest of the house, please? I have another appointment in Hartley in a couple of hours, so really should be going as soon as we’re done here. This is an absolutely beautiful little cottage.” James was very impressed with his wedding gift to Martha. He didn’t want to proceed further with financing until she had seen it and liked it. 

“Martha  - and Mr. Digby - let me show you all that the kitchen has to offer. The appliances are all brand new, including a dishwasher. Because this is an old house, there weren’t sewer hookups in the early days. Now this cottage, and I’m guessing the Beaufort estate, are part of the sewers fanning out from Hartley. All the appliances are brushed stainless steel - or at least looks like it. There’s not much that isn’t made of something synthetic any more. The kitchen is separate from the living room by an island, with added cupboard space below the counter top, for a very open plan." Graciola then took them through the remainder of the house, James alway one step ahead of Gracie and Martha. Gracie, noticing that he seemed to be rushing, turned her attention to him. "I can see you are ready to go, Mr. Digby, so let’s step out on the front veranda to talk."

Digby interrupted Martha’s ongoing reverie about which room would be her sewing room, what pieces of furniture would go where and what she would plant in the flower beds out front.  “I can leave you here with Ms. Manorly, or you can walk with me back to the Estate, which ever you prefer.”

Before Martha could reply, Graciola spoke up: “Why don’t you stay here with me? I’ll show you more of the back garden and all around the cottage.” Graciola and James had exchanged meaningful looks, while Martha was looking out the kitchen window towards the Beaufort Estate, aware that this cottage was to be a wedding gift

“Ms. Manorly, why don’t you tell her about the community that was here so long ago? That story is really part this home. I’m off now, Martha, I’ll see you probably tomorrow morning. You can tell me what you think then.” James gave Martha a kiss on the cheek and set off to the Global Grand Bank before it closed.

“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”

~ Vincent Van Gogh

Chapter One, Episode 80 ~ Climbing Roses ~ Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update

How do two people, set in their ways, blend their lives? Martha Haverstock and James Digby presented me with this challenge. Thus, my challenge today, was to add context to their dialogue while maintaining the quality of each character.

As far as typo's from the original piece, there were only two, both repaired.

Climbing Roses

“Martha, have you sent out the invitations?”

James Edward Digby, butler for the Beaufort Estate, and Martha Haverstock, housekeeper for the Beaufort Estate had been planning their wedding for quite sometime. Both in their mid sixties, in the early days of their plans, they had decided to move into James home. Martha did feel a bit uncomfortable with such a move. Bringing all her fussy decorations and sewing things in would certainly disrupt James' neat as a pin home. She did stay over night once or twice but slept in the guest bedroom. They would get up in the morning and have coffee, toast and the strawberry/rhubarb jam Martha brought with her. They didn’t want any gossip so any time there was a sleep over, it was planned for their days off. Joanie had to be let in on their secret because, normally, she always checked on her mom before she went to bed. Martha didn't want to frighten Joanie. Joanie had always liked James and was very pleased for her mom. She wasn’t so sure how she’d feel once they were actually married. Especially if they moved in to her mother’s half of their duplex. 

“I’m just finishing them up, dear. I’ll take them into Hartley postoffice tomorrow and get them posted. You look like you have something to tell me, James. What is it? Is everything all right?”

James cleared his throat. "I know you are not comfortable living here after we’re married and quite frankly it makes me a bit nervous too. I’ve never been married before, so don’t know what to expect. My home has always been arranged the way I want it…… I know….. That sounded dreadful but there it is. So here’s what I want to tell you." James seemed to be stumbling over his words. "Samuel and I talk quite frequently." James didn’t usually spend this much time getting the point. He was direct and succinct. "I had opportunity to go out to the toolshed the other day. I needed some nails and my hammer was out there. I need to fix that broken front porch step.”

Martha, busy with putting the last stamps on the wedding invitation, was rather blunt. “James, leave that to Samuel. Little fixes like that are part of his job.”

“No, it’s quite an easy fix. Just replacing a couple of loose nails.” James took a deep breath. In a very characteristic way, he stood, picked up cups and saucers from their workday morning coffee. Martha reached for her cup. “James, I’m not finished my coffee yet. Whatever is wrong?”

James put both cups down on the table and returned to his seat at the long kitchen table. “Where was I? Oh yes. Samuel and I got to talking. I let slip that you and I were getting married and to expect an invitation. Then I went on to say we hadn’t decided which home we would be living in.”

“James. You didn’t.” Martha’s face went pale, wedding invitations forgotten. "We decided we didn’t want anyone to know until they received our invitations." She sighed slowly. "I suppose if it’s just Samuel, our secret should be safe. He’s not one to gossip." Martha's composure settled and let her worry pass. "Now, did Samuel have anything to say?" 

"I must say he was pretty calm. He put down the tools he was cleaning and walked outside. At first I thought he was finished talking but then he called out to me. ‘James. C’mere a minute. Look over there. Can’t really see it from here, but you know it’s there. ‘Member that little cottage to the west of here? Just outside Estate land? For sale sign is up.’".....James hesitated, picked up the coffee cups again, looking to make sure they were both empty. He took a deep breath. "Martha, I called the Realestate agent and made an appointment to see what condition the cottage is in, what the square footage is. My appointment is this afternoon. What do you think?”

“Oh, my dear James, you sound almost excited. You mean the cottage with the climbing roses? I think it’s just wonderful. It would be our very own place. I’d still be close to Joanie and Ben and Abby. We could walk to work together and someday retire together. Oh, it just sounds lovely. Just lovely.” Martha was glowing.

“Martha, I am so pleased. Don’t get too excited until we see if it will be big enough. It is just a cottage, but I’ve only ever seen it from the outside. You need to have a sewing room and I need an office. We’ll go this afternoon. Martha, I must admit, I am excited and so happy that, after all these years, we’ll finally be married.

“There is nothing more admirable than when two people 

who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, 

confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.”

~ Homer,  The Odyssey

Chapter One, Episode 79 - A Moving Story - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update

There was a bit of tension between Samuel, the yardman as he likes to be  called, and Emelina Beaufort. However, it was all resolved by the end. A enjoyed writing and adding to depth to this Episode.

My work this morning was to flesh out several pieces of dialogue that had no obvious action to them. Other than that there was only one typo that needed, and received, my attention.

A Moving Story

Samuel did have a story to tell. The two sisters, Dez and Emmie, were hoping it was about the Beaufort Estate. In fact, they assumed it would be about the construction of the mansion or marriages that were solemnized under the ancient redwood; even the driveway - had horse drawn carriages clip clopped to the mansion for a ball? Maybe even the origins of the toolshed. But no, Samuel wasn’t in the mood for any of these stories. He walked the two women to the end of the garden where it almost disappeared into middle section of the apple orchard. The land past that stretched away from the orchard and down towards the freshening stream. Samuel had told them about the stream before, but it wasn’t the stream that had a story today. Blackberry bushes scrambled along the banks of the stream, their white flowers and new little blackberries, hard and green signalled a delicious harvest.

“This is beautiful, Emmie! Did you know about this?!” Dez was stunned. A city girl she knew about streets and sidewalks, but her country past at her grandparents farm had been shrouded in a long city life. 

“Not really. I knew there were blackberries down here. Cook always talks about going blackberry picking with Samuel when they’re ripe. Then we have blackberry jam, pies, fresh blackberries, and  blackberry crumbles. They never wanted any help and, at the time, I was too arrogant to think I should do such menial work.”

Dez was still enamoured of all that she saw. “Listen to the birds! And there are hundreds of bees. Our bees, when we get them, will be well fed right here on your property.......................”

Samuel cleared his throat with purpose. “Are you two ladies goin’ to talk all day?”

In their excitement, they had almost forgotten about Samuel. Dez quickly turned towards him. “I'm so sorry, Samuel! I guess we got carried away. It’s just that it’s so beautiful and peaceful. We’ll be quiet - won’t we Em?” 

Emmie was still distracted by the beauty of her property. Property she had never seen. When her husband was alive, she had been too busy with the dizzying life of high society. When he was gone, plunged too deeply into her grief. “Yes, of course." Emmie's attention refocussed when she heard heard Dez speak her name, she asked Samuel. "Are you going to tell us more about the beginnings of the orchard?” 

“No, ma’am. Keep walkin’. Follow me over here and look just beyond the big rocky outcropping.” Samuel had already started walking and talking at the same time. The two sisters had to step quite smartly to keep up and hear him what he was saying.

They were trying to follow where Samuel seemed to be pointing but they couldn't really identify anything except the outcropping. “What are we supposed to be looking at? Emmie, can you see anything but the land?” 

Emmie was thoughtful for a moment and then her face cleared. “I can’t see very much more, Dez. If I am right about where we are, from the main road, I have noticed a little cottage in that area. Is that right, Samuel?”

Samuel replied with certainty. “Now you’ve got it, Mz. Beaufort. Move over here a bit." He pointed again. "There. Can you see that little place, Mz. Dez?"

Emmie was more than a little disappointed that his stories were probably about that cottage, not about the estate. She had been so eager to learn more about the land that she owned, and this funny little man was showing her a cottage that wasn’t even on her land.

Trying to sound pleasant, Emmie asked “But Samuel, what has that cottage got to do with the Beaufort Estate? It's not even on Beaufort land?" Trying not to sound as impatient as she was, Emmie added. "We might just as well all get back up to the house." 

“Now, Mz. Beaufort. Just hang on." Samuel did something he rarely did. Just for a second, he put a gentle hand on Emmie's shoulder. "That little cottage is the start of the whole thing." 

“Ok, Samuel. Tell us the about it so we can get back to our work on the orchard.” Dez could tell that both of them were upset. Emmie because she was annoyed with Samuel. Samuel because he'd had to take time out from his own work.

Not trying to hide his impatience, but being polite Samuel just kept on with what he knew was important. “Remember we're on an island, not many....what are they called...landscapers...... would take on such a bit of a place. But nature's done up that little cottage just fine.” Indeed there was a small cottage. It was nestled in an outcropping rocks, dotted with low bush, daffodils, tiny purple wildflowers and the stunning back drop of the distant ocean, water silvered blue and glittering. Dez leaned back against the nearest rock prepared to listen.

“You know that extra garden you had me dig?” Samuel seem to be off in some other direction. “I finally found a use for it. I just planted extra potatoes for the new folk that’ll be moving in.”

Emmie was ready again to walk away. Now, he was talking about planting potatoes. This has been a big waste of time. “Dez let’s go. Samuel, I apologize for taking you away from your work. We’ll find our way back.”

Elizabeth had told him Mz. Beaufort had changed from that flighty, high minded woman. He'd best tell her she was dead wrong. “Don’t you want to hear about the soldiers? Not all the soldiers but the Colonel?” Samuel leaned up against a moss covered rock.

Emmie had turned to walk away, but when Samuel spoke about a Colonel, she stopped and turned back. “Now you have my attention. Yes I do want to hear about the soldiers, but only if it relates to the Beaufort Estate. What do you know that we don’t know? And who is moving?” Emmie was interested, but after the afternoon’s wild goose chase, she wasn’t going to relax just yet.

“That little cottage, 'bout as old as yer mansion, is about a half mile outside the west boundaries.” Samuel paused, squinting into the afternoon sun. “I don’t rightly know the exact dates. Never was good at keepin’ dates straight. There was a war down south. The folks on this island were worried. Some Canadian military were posted here, but there was no fort just yet. No place for’m to live ‘cept for the mansion on your land. ‘Commandeered’ I think is the word. Yep. Those soldiers commandeered the mansion….it was still new and grand in them days. Now, mind you, I’m telling you what grand’pappy told my pappy. But the Colonel? He needed a quieter place. He just took right over that cottage! He had guards posted outside the door 24 hours a day. I s'pose, in them days, that was the right thing to do. He had all his meals cooked up by the big house staff and brought down to the cottage. So that’s where the stories about soldiers come from. That little house has had someone living in it ever since that Colonel marched his soldiers out. ‘Cept for this last year. When I’m workin' at this end of the garden  - and it’s huge one - I keep my eye on that little place. One day, I saw a movin’ van come in and load up. Then a little red car  - couldn’t make out what kind - drove off. I b’lieve it was a young couple that lived there, no kids. That’s where the feelin’s about some movin’ around come from. That’s one empty house down there. It’s a pretty little place. Just right for a couple that love each other. A bit of a yard for plantin'. A nice little road to get to the main road. And if they’ve a mind, just a short walk over to the mansion for tea with me n’ Elizabeth.”

Emmie and Dez looked at each other puzzled. Emmie turned to Samuel in surprise “Moving? Whose moving around here, Samuel?” 

Samuel shook his head. “I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Emelina. Nobody that I know of right now. It’s just a feelin’ I get now and then. Don’t you mind me. I’ll walk you back up to the house. Elizabeth should have a bite to eat for us.” Samuel’s story-telling was over; but the story was not.

“When all the details fit in perfectly, 

something is probably wrong with the story,.”

~ Charles Baxter, 

Burning Down the House: Essays on Fiction

Chapter One, Episode 78 - Lunch Talk - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update
A lovely short bit of writing, there were still a couple of missteps within which have been repaired. Wording and sentence structure were the culprits.

Lunch Talk

They were exhausted and it was only lunch time. Dez and Emmie had come in from the orchard for lunch. “Cook, is there any ice tea? I am so thirsty!” 

“Yes, Miss Dez. I’ve set your places at the table and the ice tea is already there. For both you and Miss Emelina. You two have been working hard this morning. What time did you get started?”

“It wasn’t as early as Samuel. He’d already done what’s a full day’s work for me when we got there at 9:00.”

“Oh, yes, girls. He’s up and workin’ before Martha and I even get to work at 7:30. He comes up to the house. Has a glass of tea. We visit while he’s here and then away he goes to do more fixing or planting or some kind of work on the land.“

Emelina took a big swallow of the cold sweet tea. Patting her lips with the napkin, she hoped to find out more about what Samuel knew. “What do you talk about when you visit in the morning?”

“Oh, the weather. What I need Samuel to plant. What my nephews are up to. Just the time of day. Nothing that would shake the dust out of the curtains.”

“That sounds positively domestic, Cook. Just you and Samuel having your morning tea together. Well then, I don’t suppose you talk about serious things. Like, the history of the island we’re on or where everyone came from in the early days?” Dez had often suspected that Cook and Samuel, the yard man, were more than just friends. Every chance she got, she just prodded a bit.

“No, Miss Dez. We just talk about ordinary things. History is too big for early morning talk. Where people came from? Just what are you………you’re teasing me again, aren’t you? You best be careful, Miss Dez. You haven’t had dessert yet and I know you love my homemade ice cream. Chocolate’s on the menu today.” Laughing, Cook started putting the creamy thick ice cream away. 

“Never mind, Cook. I really don’t need to know anything about those silly things. I’ll just take that ice cream off your hands.” Dez pulled a contrite face. “Emmie and I need to get back outside, so I’ll just stop talking and eat up.”

“Oh, all right then. Here you go….and you too, Miss Emelina. And I really don’t know much about what’s gone on. Just ask Samuel or Digby about these things. When you stop for a break in the afternoon, you just see if Samuel has a story or two to tell you.”

“History is Storytelling.”

~ Yaa Gyasi,  Homegoing

Chapter One, Episode 77 - A Child's Memory - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update
Again, an improved piece of writing. I'm a slow learner but I surely can learn.

I did add some detail in the first paragraph regarding the cook and the gardener at the time of Digby's memory.

All in all, I was pleased with this review.

A Child's Memory

“I was nine years old. The ladies and gentlemen were dressed all in glittering finery. The grounds, as the sun was going down, were beautiful.” Digby stood at the window in his office, looking out over the grounds. He turned to face Emelina, his face serious. “There were magnificent flower gardens then. You know, Miss Emelina, the old gardener then was magic with those flower gardens. And the vegetable gardens! Mrs.Childress, cook for Beaufort estate in those years, always had superb produce from those gardens. One of the first Samuels, the old gardener had even planted and tended a marvellous shade garden under the old redwood.” Digby’s face relaxed when he talked of the grounds.

“I must continue though. First of all, let me apologize for my behaviour last evening. I have kept my secret about the ghost, little Sarah, for over fifty years. I was shocked by your story that was almost identical to mine from decades ago. On that evening, the guests were having an early supper. Afterward, they were attending an opera in Hartley. At least that’s what Mrs. Amberton, the housekeeper said. A typical nine year old boy, the opera didn’t interest me. Father had allowed me to come with him for the evening, but I was to stay in the kitchen. And I did. Until Father came down to his office. On such evenings, Father always had more paper work to do.” Digby smiled. “Now it’s computer work not paper work…..That evening he told me, that if I helped Mrs. Childress clear away the dinner service, I could go upstairs. Of course I agreed.”

Emelina was getting a bit restless. She wanted him to get on with the story. Barely able to sleep the night before, she needed to know what had upset Digby so that he could barely function. “Go on, Digby.”

“Of course, Miss Emelina. Forgive me for wandering off topic.” Digby paced the room. “Mrs. Childress and I finished clearing away the dinner service. I told her I would stay upstairs to wait for Father. She frowned at me over her glasses. ‘Are you sure that’s all right?’ I told her that Father had said it was all right. She took the table cloth Downstairs to the laundry and I was left alone. Just as I had wanted. I strolled around the dining room, tugging at my sweater and then into the living room. I felt like the Lord of the Manor. I pretended to have a pipe in my mouth, looked over the myriad of books on the shelves and just as I was about to select one, I heard a sound like a chair scraping. ‘hello’.  I froze. ‘who’s there?’ ‘My name is Sarah. What’s yours?’

I could still hear Mrs. Childress and Mrs. Amberton talking. I knew Father was still in his office. I knew all I had to do was call for help and someone would come running. This Sarah sounded young and nice, so I turned around. A girl with blonde ringlets about my age, maybe a little older, was sitting on a dining room chair that had been pushed into the living room. Then she said ‘would you help me? I can’t move all this furniture by myself.’

 “I asked her why she wanted the furniture moved. ‘because the rooms are wrong. Nobody can watch me on my swing.’ So I asked her who changed the rooms. That’s when she said ‘soldiers and it always stayed.’ When I told her that it would make too much noise, she said ‘I’ll just lift them and you push them.’ It seemed to take only seconds. I was so tired and Sarah had disappeared. I didn’t know how to tell Father about her. I sat in the big wing chair in the new living room and then Father was waking me up. “James. James. It’s time to go home.” Then I heard Father whisper ‘Sarah has done this again.’ I thought I must still be asleep. Until yesterday, I thought it had to have been a dream. Father never, ever said anything to me. I stayed away from the house for a week, because even though I was sure I had been dreaming, I just felt…..not really frightened…..rather, it was more like an anxiety. One day, being very brave, I went into the house when no one was there. I climbed the stairs very slowly. All the furniture had been moved back into place.”

“Didn’t you tell anyone?”

“No. Who would believe a nine year old boy? ‘Father I was talking to a ghost that could levitate furniture?’ I hadn’t been hurt, everything was back in place, no one said anything about it. Then I knew it was only a dream.”

“Have you seen Sarah since then? You’ve been here most of your life, Digby, you must have seen her.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her. Most of the time I see her swinging from the branch of the old redwood. I have seen her at least once in the dining room. She seems suspended in time and has never asked anything of me since moving furniture. My nine year old self has held that story as a secret so tightly for so very long. Letting it out of its cage has been a great relief.” Digby brushed off both arms from shoulder to fingertips with finality.

Emelina shared her butler's relief. After that day, the upstairs furniture was rearranged the way that Sarah, and the living, preferred it. 

“It’s late at night when the memory comes for me, like it always 

seems to when the relief of sleep seems ready to draw me under.”

~ Joaquin Lowe, Bullet Catcher

Chapter One, Episode 76 - A Secret - Situationally Theirs

Review, Edit and Update
Three pieces of punctuation changed and the removal of one extra space between words. That was it. 

But, after a fourth read through, I noticed two pieces of dialogue in need of setting. 

I'll admit I was surprised and pleased that Episode 76 showed  improvement in not just writing, but in editing prior to it's post on June 08, 2020.

A Secret

Fresh from the shower, her hair still turbaned, Emelina wore her thick terry robe. She was still confused about what had happened. When Martha woke her up, with sunlight streaming in the window, she had felt disoriented and out of place. Her neck was sore. When she sat up and realized she’d slept in the big wing chair from the living room, having such a sore neck was not strange. What was strange was that the wing chair was in the dining room! While she was in the shower, water hot enough to almost scald her, the events of the previous evening filtered back through the steam. 

 Talking slowly and patiently to herself she tried to sort it all out. “If it was a dream, then I was sleep walking. And while I was sleep walking I moved all the furniture after I’d asked permission from the ghost of a girl only about 11 years old. I talked to her. She talked to me.”

Emelina paused. Unwound the towel from her hair and, using it, scrunched as much water from her long blonde hair as possible. Draping the damp towel over the shower rod, she straightened it out. “That was easier than trying to straighten out this thing…a dream or not a dream.” 

Still talking aloud to herself while she used the blow dryer on her hair, she said “If it was not a dream, then I was awake. I talked to the ghost child, she talked back to me.” Emmie shuddered. “She didn’t materialize right away, only after I asked her to. And that was after she moved two chairs. I wasn’t even afraid! At least I don’t remember being afraid at all. After she said it was ok to switch the dining room……” Emelina clicked off the blow dryer, put it down gently and said…. "Oh My Gosh. I asked her who first changed the living room into a dining room and she said it was soldiers! When would there have been soldiers in this house?……I’m going to get dressed and find Digby. See if he knows anything about soldiers being on this island and especially in this house. I’ve got to sort his out. I really don’t think it was a dream. Martha may think so, but I know I hadn’t even brought a blanket with the chair when I moved it.” Emelina returned to her room, quickly dressed in brown slacks and a light peach-coloured cotton shirt; she selected deep coral teardrop earrings and a silver bracelet with coral inlay. Sandals will be ok for now. Satisfied with herself she left her room to go to the kitchen for breakfast, taking her empty tea cup with her. I’ll tell Martha to leave everything as it is. When Brigitte gets here, we’ll finish changing the rooms around.

~~~~~

“Good morning ladies!” Emelina emerged from the upstairs, fresh as a daisy. 

“Well look at you, Miss Emelina! You’ve certainly washed the sleep out of your eyes. Did you wash that dream away too? I’ve talked with Giles and he’ll get that furniture all moved back in place.” Martha liked things in order and was very efficient at getting things done. Giles would have been told, but in a very diplomatic and sweet way, that he had furniture to move and it had to be done today.

“No, Martha, let me talk with Digby first. I may want to make the changes permanent.” Emelina walked to the cupboard holding the kitchen china.

“I know it’s none of my business, how can talking to James make a difference?” Martha had already set things in motion. Although a bit flustered, she was immediately ready to contact Giles again. 

“Martha, just be patient with me. What I want right now is a cup of that fresh coffee and one of those gigantic cinnamon rolls that I could smell all the way upstairs. They are cool enough now aren’t they? Before I forget, I’m expecting Dez and Brigitte out here later this morning, so if I’m busy talking with Digby or am upstairs please let me know when they arrive.”

Martha, still a bit miffed that she was being put off, but she decided she would ask James later what it was all about. “Get your coffee and then get yourself a plate and I’ll just get you a nice warm cinnamon bun to put on it. There’s butter on the table.”

Cook had listened to all of this and kept her peace. She had heard all the rumours about a little ghost girl, but she’d never seen her or heard her. Mostly she heard about a little girl on a swing. Sometimes, when she was alone in the house she’d get a funny feeling. Like someone was standing right beside her watching her. It would be when she was baking cookies or cutting up apples for a pie. As soon as she stopped what she was doing and looked around the feeling passed. She had never said anything about it, like it was some kind of a shameful secret. A secret that everyone knows about but no one will talk about. Cook spoke up: “Those buns are still pretty fresh so don’t eat them too fast. They’ll be too heavy on your stomach.”

~~~~~

Digby arrived just as Emelina was finishing her coffee. “Good morning everyone. A lovely work place to enter: three charming ladies and the delicious aromas of coffee and cinnamon buns.”

“Digby, when you’re settled would you have a minute to speak with me. I had a very unusual evening. I have questions.”

“Of course Miss. I’ll be out in a minute for my coffee. Do you want to talk in my office?”

~~~~~

Digby listened carefully to Emelina’s account of the previous evening. When she started talking, he was sitting in his desk chair, both hands clasped, two fingers on his lips. As she told of the details he sat back, his brow wrinkled. If possible, he was listening more intently. When Emelina said that she asked Sarah “Who did change the rooms?” Digby became very still. “What did she say, Miss Emelina?”

“Digby, are you all right? You’ve gotten so pale.”

“Yes, Miss. I’m sorry - it’s just that I’m concerned. No, that’s not it. I can tell you what Sarah said.”

“Digby? How can you? I was alone - except for Sarah.”

“She said….‘soldiers and it always stayed.’ I’m correct aren’t I?” 

“Yes. But how?…..”

There was a knock on the door, Martha opened it a crack - “Brigitte and Dez are here to see Miss Emelina, James.”

“Thank you, Martha. I’ll be out in a moment…..James - I mean Digby - we can talk about this tomorrow.”  Emmie put her hand gently on James shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

“A secret’s worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept.”
~ Carlos Ruiz Zafrón,  The Shadow of the Wind