The next day was chaos. I was still angry about what happened last night and the work that I was forced into was making my mood worse. Georgia, my master's daughter, had taken a great liking to me. She was only a little older than me, but she'd taken to calling me Little Evan. I was never sure why, but I never questioned it either.
Late afternoon, I began polishing the surfacees and contents of the cabin. Mrs Thompson was shouting at me to this and that, and I was trying to work around her. Eventually though, she realsied I was ignoring her, and shrieked my name. I jumped and knocked a glass vase into the air. Before I could even flinch it was smashed in pieces across the floor.
"Sorry ma'am." I muttered continuously, trying to lift all the shards. Ouch! Blood dripped from my palm.
At that, Roberts entered the room. "Oh, Robert, thank godness." Mrs Thompson said in relief. "Get her out before she bleeds all over the carpet."
With that I was lead swiftly out.
The staff suite was deserted. Robert and I sat across from each other, avoiding eye contact. He was carefully bandaging my hand. His hands were surprisingly smooth on mine.
"Wild." He muttered to himself. "Definatly wild."
I cleared my throat. "Excuse me?!" I barked defencevly. "I'm not wild!"
"What are you then? Just Scottish?"
That's right... Just Scottish...
* * * *
The match flickered into life. Anger swarmed through me. I held it to the paper.
"What are you doing?"
I pulled the flame away.
"Give it to me."
I handed it over.
He took it in his hands and walked away.
"Hey!" I yelled. "Give that back!"