Chapter 24 Meeting Betty
Sharon
I was scrubbing a rather burnt pan when I heard approaching footsteps and looked up to find a petite young woman who had her dark hair tied in a knot on top of her head walking towards me. She came to a halt in front of me, and to my greatest surprise, she smiled at me!!! Not a smirk, not a contemptuous curling up of lips, but an actual smile. And it was so warm that I couldn't help but smile in return.
“ Good morning,” she announced in a voice that could only be described as full of cheer.
“ I'm Betty,” she announced, gathering up her skirts and plopping her butt on the empty stool beside me. A closer look at her revealed small delicate features and twinkling brown eyes.
“ I know your name, we all do, it's Sharon? You don't mind do you?” She asked, rolling up her sleeves and binding them with two rubber bands she fished out of her pocket.
Without giving me a chance to even do as much as think of a reply, she continued speaking.
“ I hope you don't mind, it's such a beautiful name, not something droll and drab like Betty.”
“ I also know that you're new in the palace , that you've come a long way, and that you were sick and had to stay in the infirmary for a week.”
She paused here to take a breath, but before I could get a word in, she barrelled right on.
“ Elle came to get you this morning didn't you?” She asked, and immediately answered her own question by adding;” I know she did.”
“ She wasn't awfully drab was she? She probably was.” Again she supplied both the question and answer.
“ You mustn't take it too hard though, Elle is always like that, it takes her a while to warm up to new people.” She continued.
At this point I gave up all hope of these being an actual conversation, and settled down to listen to her talk, and talk she did.
In theree quarters of an hour, I had heard the names of all the girls that worked in the palace ( most of which I promptly forgot), how long everyone had been working here, who had a beau, who was trying to snag which guard, who was downright jolly, and who needed a little getting used to, as well as whatever possible information she could think of.
To my surprise and her credit, her hands worked as her mouth talked, and in the same amount of time we had a pile of clean dishes ready to be carted off for use.
“I love your hair!!!” She announced, taking what I suspect was her first real look at me.
“ I've never seen hair this shade of blonde before, at first one would think it would clash with your darker skin, but you wear it so beautifully.”
“ Can I touch it?” She asked. At a nod from me, she quickly dried her hands on her apron and reached up to run her fingers my hair, massaging my scalp in the process.
“ It's so soft, and beautifully cut,” she admired.
“Whoever cut your hair does an amazing job,” she added.
“ I do it myself.” I muttered, speaking for the first time since I met her.
“ Really!” She exclaimed.
“ You do an amazing job, look how well layered it is.” She enthused.
I couldn't help smiling at the thoughts and memories of hacking it off with a kitchen knife whenever it got too long or began to get into my way.
“ Maybe you could cut mine sometime?” She suggested.
“ Noo.....” I sputtered.
“ I couldn't possibly do that, I would ruin your hair, I don't have training or anything. I normally just hack it off with a kitchen knife.” I explained.
“ Ohhhh,” she said sounding disappointed, and speaking in a low pitch for the first time all morning.
“You could try sometime though.” She suggested quickly getting over her disappointment. “ I'm sure you won't really ruin my hair, and even if you do. I'll just wear a cap until it grows back.” She added, getting to her feet.
“ Come on,” she said picking up a large bowl of the freshly washed dishes. “ We have to get this to the cooks.”
I spent the rest of the day with Betty, she insisted on dragging me around to distribute the dishes, she brought me a plate when it was time to eat, washed the second set of dishes with me, dragged me off to eat lunch at the communal table and insisted I sit beside her.
Everyone still looked at me with contempt, but they all treated Betty with civility, even friendship. It took me barely an hour to realize that she was friends to everyone - which I could understand; she was very easy to like, and although I had known her for less than a day, I also knew that it would be impossible to hate or dislike her. She would simply talk her way back into your affections without realizing that you weren't holding a grudge against her. But this also raised a lot of questions.
She was well liked, she wasn't an outcast like me. So why was she risking being ostracized by spending so much time with me.
I finally worked up the courage to ask her at the end of the day.
After a long day of dishes and soapy water, she announced that the work day was over, asked me if I wanted to go look around, and when I said no, led me up the backstairs to a set of rooms, leading me into the third door on the right.
She took leave from me and disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a bucket of piping hot water, half of which she poured into a wooden bowl she unearthed from underneath the bed.
“You wash up first.” She said, handing me a bulky bundle that turned out to be the bundle of meager belongings I had brought from home, along with a trio of night dresses and a couple of day dresses.
I thanked her and proceeded to wash out the sweat of the day before getting out of my clothes and into one of the night dresses which turned out to be the most comfortable item of clothing I had ever worn or owned.
Betty emptied the bowl, washed up and emptied the bowl again before changing into her night dress and coming to sit beside me on the bed where I was drying my hair.
“Why?” I asked as she unpinned her hair and began to untangle it with her fingers.
“ if I don't untangle it before bed, it'll get all matted together,” she replied focused on her task.
“ Not your hair,” I clarified.
“ Why did you spend the day with me? You must know I'm cursed. Aren't you scared of being ostracized for your actions?” I queried further.
“And I don't think anyone asked you to either, you're too well loved for that.” I added.
“Sharon,” she laughed.
“Surely that's an exaggeration, I know I get along with most people, but calling me well loved is a bit of a stretch isn't it.”