Free The Windsor Girl by Sylvia Burton

Ellie’.
    ‘Would you like me to teach you?  I’m sure I could but it would take a long time before you could read the Bible.  What do you say?’
    ‘Ellie, it would be the best thing you could ever do for me and I would never forget you as long as I lived’.
    ‘Oh Kate, don’t get excited.  You would think I had given you a hundred pounds.  It will be you who will do all the work and it won’t be easy’.
    Kate was so pleased she threw her arms around her friend and kissed her full on the mouth.
    Ellie hit her about the head with her pillow, laughing and wiping her mouth.
    ‘Kate, you’ve been eating jam’ she said.  Then putting on her ‘housekeeper’s voice’ she went on, ‘you naughty girl, where did you get it from?  You can't have another candle for two years, because you have eaten jam’.  Holding the tip of her nose, which made her sound ridiculously nasal, continued, ‘and you know that only ‘Miss Maudy Maudy’ is allowed to eat nice things like jam’.
    By the end of this performance, Kate was rolling around the floor, holding her sides, with tears streaming down her face and into her open mouth.
    ‘Well I will j ust have to eat candles won’t I’, she said, her speech now almost incoherent.
    Ellie, once again, swung her pillow at Kate, which promptly burst open, sending a cloud of feathers up in the air.  Ten minutes later, they were still laughing as they searched for the last of the elusive feathers.
    From that day, Ellie started Kate’s reading lessons.  Because of the saved candles they could work, for an hour every night and soon Kate was reading simple words.  She felt so proud of her friend’s efforts and encouraged her with every new word.  And Kate?  Well, Kate was overjoyed, overworked and happy.
     
    It was coming up to Easter and, in her spare time; Missus Blunt was busy decorating hard-boiled eggs.  It was common practice for the Mistress of the house to hand out these eggs to children of poor families, living in the area, although, the charity had never stretched as far as Canal Street.
    Ellie thought of her young brothers and what their Easter would mean.  She knew it would be no different from any other day.  Eggs were hard to get when money was scarce.  She wished she could take each of the boys one on her next visit.  She decided to ask Cook if it would be possible.
    Cook was apologetic but explained, ‘I’m sorry Ellie but the hens haven’t been laying well lately and I have to keep a few back for if the Mistress needs more.  Ellie said she understood and resigned herself to the situation.
    Kate was disappointed for her and said so.  ‘Three little eggs wouldn’t have hurt anyone, would they?’
    ‘Oh well, the boys are not expecting any eggs at Easter so they won’t feel let down.  At least Cook was kind enough to explain about the hens.  I don’t suppose she could do anything more’.
    ‘Who would have known’, insisted Kate, but let the matter drop.
    It was to be Ellie’s day off on Easter Sunday, but she was informed by Cook that this was not allowed as all the staff were to be present on that day.  She was to take the Saturday off instead.
    ‘You’ll enjoy it here Ellie.  The meals are still to be on time but it’s mostly warm up pies and cold meats, so we all have more free time.  It’s almost like a holiday’.
    Missus Blunt smiled when she added, ‘and it will be your first opportunity to see the Mistress.  Now that will be a treat for you, won’t it dear?’
    Ellie said she was sure it would be and wanted to laugh, at the expression of satisfaction, on Cook’s kind face, as she relayed this fascinating news to her.  Cook obviously believed Ellie would consider it a privilege.  She politely thanked Missus Blunt for the Saturday off and went about her work.
    Saturday morning arrived to the sound of Kate, whistling, tunelessly.
    ‘Kate, for goodness sake.  What on earth is that awful noise?’
    ‘Oh stop you’re