This is a story I am writing about a girl called Elizabeth (Beth) whose father disappears... Read the other chapters before this one!
I told people about Francesca, aka Martha, but they didn't believe me until she confirmed. It was after lessons, so Martha and I decided to walk in the gardens - for the girls of Thompson's, this was basically the equivalent of running about in the garden playing 'it'. "It's so nice not keeping secrets. Secrets are so annoying and dishonourable. They do make me ever so uncomfortable, Miss Wood." We liked to talk poshly and it was also good practice and the teachers appreciated it. "Oh, dear and honourable Miss Wilson, I am of similar feeling when it comes to the subject of... Never mind." "Why, Dear Miss Wood, whatever is the matter?" "Anyone ever promise you something and they haven't broken it exactly but you kind of think that they are going too, but then again, they don't mean to.... ?" "You mean like Francesca writing in her letters we'd see each other someday then she fell ill? Then she kind of did break it didn't she? Wasn't her fault..." "Oh... My Father said he'd always be there for me but now he's gone and I don't know where he is or what he's doing..." I gulped, and hurriedly wiped my eyes; to cry was shameful (yeah, I wasn't a huge fan of the school either). "Please pardon my interupting, Dear Lady Elizabeth and Lady Francesca, or should I say Martha?" "Please forgive my rudeness, Lady Isabelle, but why ever to you smile so foolishly?" Francesca, or Martha (I'm confused too) replied, very very poshly! "Oh, come on, let's talk properly, stop being to formal, there's no teachers around." "Oh, but I do ever do like it." Martha smiled sweetly. "As my mother used to say, 'Hold on to that smile, for it shall not last forever'." I went in earlier as Francesca wanted some time alone. "Miss Wood?" Miss Wood (a teacher, and yes, this did get ever so confusing!) exclaimed, almost loosing her posh voice. "Yes, Miss?" "Have you seen Francesca? I'm sure you've heard the news." "I'm afraid I've heard no news, Miss." "Miss Isabelle has informed me that Francesca has passed away and this Francesca is not Francesca, but a Martha. A Martha who should not be here. According to the young lady, everyone in the school knows." "I have heard no such news and have not seen Francesca, or um... Mary was it?" "Martha. Forgive me, but your story seems unlikely as I know myself that you and Francesca or Martha or whatever are friends. I saw you out in the gardens a few minutes ago. Show me where Martha is." "Since you do not seem to believe me, I shall help you to look." I showed her around the gardens, but it wasn't long before Martha was located. "Miss Wilson, I do believe you are not meant to be here." "You are correct, Miss," I couldn't tell if my words or my heart were faster. "I'm not supposed to be here. We swapped names as a silly joke. This is Elizabeth, her Father has paid for her to be here and I am Martha."
