This was how things went about the house over the following year. Although Kiara had learned a great many things from the cooks and cleaners of the Old Gibbs Estate, when she made the offer as Cindy, she fully expected other servants as well. At least, that was what she assumed based on her mother's information of the Gibbses having gotten their footing. When she arrived at the house, and found herself alone, she lamented what she considered the worst case scenario: Having to be a comrade to Cornelia. She would think as she woke up...

I would rather keep the house alone than with that witch.

She would come to regret those thoughts.

It was a truth, in those days, universally acknowledged by all Who-kind, that every common house had two pillars: the breadwinner and the housekeeper. From this belief emerged a few configurations. There were houses with two breadwinners where a servant- or servants -would watch the house. There were houses where either Master or Madame would take up a trade and the other would tend to the house; this was the most common. And then there were the very comfortable, retired people. These were the ones who didn't need a trade any longer and so contented themselves with living their lives and divided the housekeeping between them. Cornelia was the sort of odd person who wanted bread and home and would not work for either. In short, with neither rank, wealth, servants, blood or obligation, she seemed to have every intention of living as though she had all five- and Darius and James and Cindy were diligent and skillful enough to afford her just such a living.

Cindy received- and subsequently ignored -her first hint of a scheme on her third day at the house. It had been decided that she would cook for breakfast and, since the family was usually out for lunch, Cornelia would cook for dinner. On the very first day, Cornelia brought in takeaways. On the second day, she had scheduled a dinner at a neighbour's house. And on the third day...

Cindy, dear!

The woman was dressed very plainly then. She had let her hair go wild and was hardly wearing any make-up at all. It was with this costume that she gave her performance. Like machinery, she gave her most grim and despondent expression so that Cindy would- and, indeed, she did -tug on her loose, grey shirt and meet her gaze as if to ask her what was wrong.

Oh my sweet Cindy. What a hard day it has been for me! What pains have come over me! Pains I cannot entrust to anyone and so cannot share! In the past, when I was sad with such unspeakable sorrow, my favourite roasted pork would always do the trick. And yet the chef of my youth has become lost to me and I have no comfort. He never taught me, you see. And no shop in this town serves such a thing. My sweet and talented Cindy, could you give it a try?

She knows doesn't she?

Absolutely.

But perhaps this is a test! An olive branch if you will! This pig may yet be our bridge.

Are you still a child that you desire her affection?

Of course not. A witch is a witch. But if we must stay in her house for the years to come, can we not at least be cordial with one another? Perhaps she has such a concern?

I would be concerned too if I thought my sole housekeeper wanted me dead.

Fine then. Let us play along. After all, Master Tom's roasted pork is not very difficult.

Are you sure she means Master Tom's and not Madame Vicky's?

Surely, Master Tom's was better.

To us! But to her?

Well we cannot ask her, can we! That would give up the game!

Already gambling, are we?

Then young Cindy pulled at the woman's shirt again and got up with her shoulders back and pointed towards her own heart with her own thumbs to say "I can do it" with a face practically radiant with determination and confidence and happiness. Cornelia found it very hard not to slap said face but, like a good actor, she kept to her role and her script- just as Cindy kept to hers -and so the two characters went off; one to change into better clothes and the other to prepare a very nice meal.

By her reckoning, Cindy took twice as long as Vicky would have but Cornelia made sure none made a fuss of it and praised her new servant to no end. The praise was especially hard for her to give because the meal was twice as delicious as she remembered Vicky's to be. And as someone who had never tasted a thing made by Master Tom, Cornelia assumed it was simply the girl's personal talent or skill. Either way, it made her very, very angry.

In such a manner, the former Lady Gibbs went about her days over the next few months: Spending most of her time lounging about, sighing and talking about how tired she was, all the while treating young Cindy to regular doses of...

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you do the laundry today?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you change the bed sheets today?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you buy the groceries today?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you wash the autocar today?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you wash the toilets today?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you prepare the house for our party this evening?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you prepare the house for our party this afternoon?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you prepare the house for our party tomorrow morning?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you clean up the mess of the party?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you grab the hoover and check on the floor?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you hunt down those rats?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you clean the carpets?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you climb up and clean the outside of our windows?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you massage my feet?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you buy some stationary for Darius?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you buy these books for Darius?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you dust the bookshelves?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you clean the rain gutter?

Cindy, dear, I am so very tired. Could you wash the drapes and curtains?

When Cornelia was done with all her machinations, all the mopping and washing and drying and cooking and serving and carrying and whatever else that needed to be done was done by a twelve-year-old girl. And all the fellowship of Cornelia and Darius were so used to seeing her do these things that she disappeared into the background. Her age didn't bother them at all since they didn't know it and appearance alone marked her as anywhere from twelve to sixteen- and sixteen was the most comfortable choice.

The woman had done it with such ease that it was almost unsettling to Cindy when she put it all together. When she was alone and washing the dishes after a meal she didn't have time to eat, Cindy felt the rumbling in her stomach. As she looked through her dark lenses at the cleaned out bones to her right and the soaped-up sponge in her hand, she felt, in herself, the infant whisper of a voice whose fate was wrath, and she felt, in herself, the very nearly overwhelming temptation to smash the dishes on the floor and stomp on the shattered pieces with her bare feet. She didn't; but with all her heart, she wanted to.

If I ran to James, would he save me?

If he knew, would he not intervene?

If he is sane, don't you think he has noticed?

Mama, your faith has been misplaced. Like Papa, you've trusted the wrong person. And now I pay the price.

All that said, her days were not entirely unhappy. Not even Cornelia could ensure that; especially since she and her son and her husband were often out from nine in the morning to about five in the evening. During that time, when there was no special event or other particularly extraordinary mess, Cindy could often be done with most of her duties by one or two o'clock if she woke up early enough.

It was on one of those days, indeed on the very day after she nearly cut herself open with broken shards of dishes, she felt so tired of the Gibbses' ceilings and floors and walls that she went out for a bit of a stroll through Tolemac. She wasn't sure how long or how far she was wandering, only that she wanted some time away. Then she came to it. A small music shop with a very colourful sign which read: "Hall of Psalms" and a humble and beautiful lyrical inside. When she took a step towards it, the door opened readily for her and there was no one at the counter or anywhere else within view of the entrance.

Alone, in the quiet of the afternoon, when everyone was at work or in school or lounging about at home, she let her fingers dance on her instrument and so the song which had been slowly forming in her heart- under, even, her own nose -became incarnate. You know it. However, this was the first time it was played fully, and it was only shortly after its conception, and it was long after her last lyrical tutorial under John Smith. So, understand that the song she played here will differ from the versions you usually hear nowadays, though much of the melody survives. This was how it went at the time of its first full playing:

It's been forever

I've longed to hear you

Would you please share

Your favourite story

I've spent forever

In broken wonder

Would someone please

Say what I did wrong

Still, Iife could be a fairy tale

If only someone would agree

Lend a hand

Share a smile, Dry a tear

Do you believe

Believe I could live ever after happily

Someday soon

When the world is new

As far as Cindy knew, she did not have a voice; nor had she ever had one. So, she sang freely, not expecting to be heard by others or even herself- besides by her mind's ear. Yet, as we all know, he heard her. And though the song would undergo much refinement, this would always- from eternity to eternity -remain his favourite version.

I must hear that song once more; and, if at all possible, for evermore.

Yet, he did not enter the store that day. Though he very much wanted to, he was stopped when he saw, through the looking glass, that she had become engaged in other business. The next day, he set out with hope to find the voice again but after a long and arduous search, he found that he had forgotten where he had found the voice and he became a great deal more unpleasant as a result.