The Haunting of Mary King's Close (No longer writing)

BOOK TWO: Chapter Four

The sun rose in the east, banishing away the demons of the night and bringing the promise of a better, safer day.  It filtered in through the crack in the windows and walls and shined down upon the sleeping couple who remained in each other's consoling grasp.  Their bodies remained untouched as the floor was flooded in intruding pools of bright, glittering light.

Underneath the couple's room, in a smaller and less eloquent room, the maid stirred under the sun's pelting light and quickly dragged her body out of her decrepit bed. She slowly slipped her arms through her dresses' sleeves and fastened the buttons in the back. Tying her light hair in a tight bun, she slipped a cap over, covering her ears.  Rolling up her sleeves to just below her elbows, she slipped her coal-black shoes on and walked out the door to her employer's room.

Pushing open the heavy door that separated her quarters from her employers, she slipped inside and started preparing the breakfast. A thick black kettle burned in the fireplace as the embers splashed against the metal.  Adding minimal salt to everything as her mistress despised the aftertaste that burned her tongue, she made a small breakfast of potatoes mashed together with a side of porridge.

Quietly, she walked into her master and mistress' room and walked to their bed. She lowered herself to the level of the bed and placed her hand on her mistress' back. "Ma'am," she spoke softly. "Time tae wake uup," she said once again in soft tones.

But her mistress was not the one to be called back to life first and instead it was Mr. Coltheart. He picked his head up and looked at her with half closed eyes of confusion. "Whaa..." he said in a muffled blur.

In a moment of sheer shock, Abigail straightened up and moved away from the bed. "Sir," she stated slowly.  A crimson colour spread across her checks. "Sorry tae disturb ya," she said in haste to explain her presence.  She ran  a hand across her dress to smooth the wrinkles away.

Mr. Coltheart raised his hand and silenced her while he rose from the bed. Moving atop his wife, he slowly stepped onto the floor.  "Nuthin' tae worry about," he said still half asleep and in a ruff tone. "Ah gotta go tae work anyways," he said moving towards the table and taking a seat.  "Got any tay?" he asked rubbing his forehead.

Abigail nodded and raced back to the kitchen.  When she returned she clutched in her hand a cup of tea and a plate piled with the breakfast. She placed it on the table in front of Mr. Coltheart and started to wake Mrs. Coltheart up once more. But after several minutes of trying, Mr. Coltheart advised her not to try anymore and wait until Mrs. Coltheart's body was ready to wake up naturally.  Abigail nodded and moved away to stand in the corner of the room, ready to be at the call of Mr. Coltheart if he needed anything.

For several minutes, Mr. Coltheart stared at her with curiosity and beckoned her over to sit beside him.  Once she was seated and comfortable, Mr. Coltheart started to speak, "es that all ye do?" he asked taking a sip of tea.

"Wut?" Abigail asked with innocence.

Mr. Coltheart waved his hands to the spot where Abigail had previously been standing. "Wait on me wife's call all day?"Abigail nodded her head slowly which caused Mr. Coltheart to mutter, "shite," in disbelief.  "Ah betta paee ye mure," he said with a chuckle.

At first Abigail sat with a straight face and gazed at the kind Mr. Coltheart. She would have laughed if she was aware of his joke but all she heard were the words "paee", "mure" and "ye" in the same sentence and her mind instantly went to the thought of freedom.