Calatha was seething and at the same time, frustrated. She dabbed her face with her embroidered kerchief to dry off the sweat that coated her face and neck. As she continued her journey on foot, all she could think about was how life was cruel. In summary, her day was horrible. She had done nothing but suffer.
First, she was forced to prepare her own bath which was totally absurd! She had never done it before. Secondly, she was forced to bathe in cold water because she didn't know how to light the deathtrap he called a stove. He saw her struggling and never opened his mouth to offer help. It was good he didn't offer to help because she would have rejected his help without thinking twice about it. She would be damned to ask or receive any help from the villain.
Still, on top of the list, he lied to her!
Usually, whenever she felt like exercising her legs, she would leisurely walk around the beautiful garden behind their mansion with the maids trailing behind her and that was it. She had never walked for so long before, but that was what she was doing, walking for an eternity.
Her arms and feet were already sore from the strenuous work of fetching water from the ridiculous well and carrying it up the stairs for her bath, so as she walked the long distance, she could no longer feel her feet. The sun also seemed to be against her that particular day as it was extraordinarily hot. The hat did nothing to protect her from the sun's assault. She couldn't help but wonder if it was a good idea to visit her friend Victoria. Well, she couldn't stay in that house any longer before she ran mad. Maybe her friend would be able to help her, who knows luck might shine on her side.
Fifteen to twenty minutes he said. How dare the scamp lie and deceive her in such a vile manner?
If she wasn't wrong, she had been walking for more than an hour. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a few carriages parked in front. All hot and sweaty, she approached one of the coachmen, "I am going to Willowdale,is that where you are headed?"
The coachman eyed her from head to toe, "Oy, you look like you just ran a marathon," The coachman's voice wasn't low, effectively attracting the attention of people standing nearby. They all laughed. More like, they all laughed at her.
Calantha glared at the man, "Are you going to Willowdale or not,"
"Aye, no sense of humour. I am headed to Willowdale, you can go in."
She gave him a curt nod and entered the carriage. She made herself comfortable across the elderly woman who was already sitting in the carriage.
She wanted nothing but to remove her shoes and massage her feet, but that wasn't how a lady should behave under any circumstance. She tried to make herself comfortable in the carriage. It was her first time using public transport. She had never dreamt of it before, but there she was, as uncomfortable as ever.
When she placed her head on the carriage wall, she heard one of the men talking, "The lady looks as red as the tomatoes my wife bought yesterday from the market," The comment elicited a round of laughter among them.
"A fine tomato dressed in a fancy dress and shoes," Another one added, meaning more laughter from the men
"Aye, she looks like she needs a good cold water soaking, and most importantly, a good fuck." The men roared in laughter again.
Tired of them using her to make jokes, she poked her head out of the carriage window, "I can hear you men. Don't you have some manners left in you?"
All heads turned to her, "Manners? Do you know what that is, John?" asked one of the coachmen as he stared at others who wore similar pretentious looks of cluelessness,
"I have never heard of that word in my forty-two years of existence." Came one of the men's replies,
"Oh, I ran over my manners thirty years ago on my way to work one busy Monday morning. I took it to the physician and he said it was dead for good." Uncontrolled laughter echoed in the air.
How dare the lowlives talk to her in that manner? Scoundrels! Scamps! Bloody— "They mean no harm," The elderly lady from across spoke, "It's just their way of coping with stress,"
"They cope with their stress by pissing other people off?"
"Something like that. A normal woman will understand and wouldn't get so pissed to cursing them out in their head."
Calantha's eyes squinted at the elderly lady, "Are you saying I am not normal?"
"Fancy dress, fancy shoes, and fancy pieces of jewellery, not expected of a normal woman at all." Seeing the young lady glare at her, the lady said, "I haven't seen you around before. Did you visit someone or did you move into our neighbourhood new?"
"None," Calantha was quick to reply, not interested in talking to the old lady.
"Seeing your condition, I would say you just moved in new and you are not quite fond of it." Calantha didn't say a word, instead she kept her eyes fixed outside the carriage, "I am curious," The old lad continued, "What is a fine lady like yourself doing in our humble neighbourhood? Did you come to see a friend?" No response, "A relative?" No response, "Newly married?"
Calantha glared fiercely at the woman, "Don't ever use those words,"
The old Lady nodded, "Ah, newly married, I see. Isn't he a good man?"
"He is the worst of them all," Came her heated words as she turned to her attention to the window
"He can't be that bad I used to think the same of my husband until he bought me those lovely shoes," A fond smile graced the woman's face.
"At least he wasn't a cut-throat," She mumbled to herself,
"Sorry?"
Calantha tried to picture what the woman's face would be like if she told her she was unofficially married to the infamous cut-throat. She would probably jump off the carriage.
Four more people entered the carriage at once, completing it and ending her conversation with the old lady. Calantha wasn't pleased as she was all squeezed up like a fish in a can. A fish in a can was probably more comfortable than her.
All through the journey, the older woman wouldn't take her eyes off Calantha. She wanted to know more about the young lady. There was something about the lady that intrigued her. With just a glance, one could tell the lady had never used public transport.
With over forty years of experience as a governess for the bloody aristocrats, she could distinguish them from ordinary people, and the lady sitting across, though found in their neighbourhood, didn't belong to the lower class like them. From her poise sitting position and from the way she talked, one could tell she had nothing to do with ordinary people. Everything about her was refined.
All she knew about the lady was that she was newly married to one of the men in their neighbourhood, but to who? Why was nobody invited to the party or heard of it? That was quite strange if she must say. It had been a while since their town had drama, maybe the lady could cure that.
To Calantha's relief, the carriage finally reached its stop. She quickly put her hat on and proceeded to pay the coachman, but before she could walk away, the same elderly lady from earlier stopped her, "If I didn't know better I would say you are hiding from someone or people?"
Quite a nosy one, are you not? Calantha chimed in her head as looked at the woman with irritation, "Are you headed south for the market?"
"No," She replied, her legs ready to move.
"Wait," The lady called out, "My name is Martha,"
"Anita,"
"Nice to meet you, Anita. Maybe we can meet sometime later to get to know each other better and I can get to introduce you to some of our neighbours."
"Thank you for the offer, but I will pass. Nice to meet you too, Martha." With that, she turned around and walked away.