Threading Scene Example - PB

ME: Billie was a hard worker. Her mum had always said so, and that's why, when she was old enough, her mother sent her off to work in service so she could have a better life than her father's meager earnings could afford her. At least in service she would have a roof over her head and enough food and, within time, some pocket money to save up. And that's just what she did. Kept her nose to the grindstone, as it were, and worked hard to start saving up money. She had dreams of owning a shop one day in London. Maybe a hat shop. She'd ponder the details while going about her daily chores. It was something to help pass the time, an escape from the dreary monotony of her day.

The scrub brush in her hands worked wonders on the front hall floor. The white marble gleamed when she was through with it. That was, until the master's son decided to come through the front door after his afternoon ride, and therefor, track muddy bootprints along the freshly washed floor. She got up from her knees and wiped her wet hands on her apron, keeping her eyes downcast and her manner calm, even though she wanted to shout at him. She bobbed a curtsy for him as he passed and dared to flick her gaze up to catch a glimpse at his face to see if he even noticed all of her hard work.

THEM:: Brought up at the turn of the century, Sean followed the dictates of his parents, who made it a point to remind him of his responsibility to take on a family of his own. But finding a woman who came from an equally privileged family proved more of an obstacle than merely hunting a stag. In the meantime, he spent his days engaged in leisurely activities like golfing and hunting game, while he partook in lavish festivities at night, sharing the company of many voluptous women, none of which truly leave a lasting impression on him. He was far removed from entertaining the thought of marriage, much less find himself bring himself to consider a woman to be with in an exclusively serious relationship.

As was his usual day, he spent a great deal of time out riding, enjoying the scenery afforded to him as he pondered over his life so far. For the briefest of moments, he found himself vulnerable to his own thoughts as if betrayed by his own conscience. It broke his veneer, leaving him exposed to even consider the prospect of doing something about his single status. But at the end of his ride, he neatly tucked the thoughts in the back of his mind, never to be once more considered. As he trecked back to his house, he was silently greeted by the presence of a young woman who had been busily scrubing the floor. Like a painting he had never noticed before despite passing it everyday, for the first time, he truly noticed her. He had never once acknowledged her presence even if she was in the room just standing in a corner. At that time, there was little interaction between those who lived upstairs and downstairs of the stately house. Though his eyes were transfixed to the direction ahead of him, he could distinctly make out her figure get up and offer a curtsey. It was gesture he had often ignored before but somehow failed to at that time.

ME: That was it. Their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. She couldn't believe it. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come out. She mumbled something that sounded like "Beg pardon, sir" and grabbed her bucket and scrub brush and hurried away, heading for the stairs and the freedom of the servants quarters. She took a few moments outside the back door to calm herself. She dumped the dirty water down the garden path. Why on earth had a simple glance from young master Flannery sent her into a tizzy? She took a deep breath and looked up at the grey sky before heading back in, her mind still whirling.

A week went by and she found ways to avoid duties that had her crossing paths with members of the household. She did the washing herself, down in the scullery, scrubbing on the boards until her fingertips were cracked and dry. She managed to find jobs like until the housekeeper sent her to the shops in town. She started down the gravel path that morning, basket in hand, settling into her leisurely long walk. The last thing she expected to find was the very person she'd been avoiding. Master Sean, on his horse, trotting down the opposite way she was heading. She kept her eyes downcast this time. Perhaps he wouldn't even notice her.

THEM:: There she was again, crossing his path. Like before, he pretended not to see her, but at the back of his head, he knew better than appear cold and distant. It wasn't in his nature to be so, but at that time, there was hardly any reason for masters of the house to interact with the helpers. As far as the norm went, the masters mingled with those within their social rank and the housekeepers kept to themselves, making their presence close to invisible, if at all possible. Her gaze averted from his, despite the way he intently hoped she would. But she wasn't meant to initiate contact, albeit a mere brief glance his way. The horse he rode trotted past her. Dropping his gaze, he turned his head for the first time but quickly looked ahead of him, as if afraid she'd miraculously change her mind and look back at him. Pulling on the reigns, he caused the horse to stop on its tracks. "Wait," he said softly, slowly turning the horse around. He didn't know what he would say, much less why he asked her to stop. All he did was wait for her to see if she would heed to his request.

ME: His voice stopped her cold in her tracks and she hesitated for a moment before turning slowly to find him looking back at her. There was something about his gaze that gave away his fear. How could the young master of the house be afraid of her? It didn't make any kind of sense. She supposed it was similarly strange to him that she lookied him squarely in the eye, not many people did. She didn't want to seem impertinent, but she also didn't want to seem like a simpering idiot. So, she squared her shoulders and kept her head up, meeting his gaze.

"Yes, sir. Was there something you needed, sir?" She very nearly spat the word 'sir' out in an accusatory manner. "I was just on my way to the market, sir." She clenched the basket tight in her hands and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He might have a horse to ride wherever he wanted, but she had to rely on her feet to get her where she needed to go.

THEM:: She was on her way to the market. "Right," he murmured, still thinking of what he wanted to say, or at least come with something more intelligible. His eyes fell on the basket she was holding, which only makes sense. What else could she be doing with a basket in hand anyway besides food gathering? It clearly wasn't field with flowers from her leisurely stroll down a meadow, plucking flowers that caught her attention. He briefly looked her in the eye, not quite able to read her just yet but her words rang in his ears like a broken record. He sensed a tiny bit of contempt, which wasn't at all too surprising to hear, but was slowly made aware of it the more he paid attention to those around him, his fellows or otherwise.
"Uh, no, I don't need anything," he shook his head lightly, pursing his lips as he brought his mind back into the conversation. "You can go on your way." As if she needed his approval to get going. He nodded slowly with a firm gaze and turned the horse around. Heaving a heavy sigh, he shook his head and went on his way back to the manor. What was he thinking?

ME: She took a deep breath and watched him trot away on his horse. His face had almost looked...hurt. Perhaps. But why should he be? She was just a scullery maid, no one of any consequence to him. If he had thought she was being impertinent he could have her sacked anytime he wanted, a thought that scared her very much. She shook her head, turning swiftly on her heel, and started off toward the market again. She was determined to erase their brief meeting from her mind.

Another few days...the same old drudgery, and for some reason she found the monotony of her duties really getting to her. She'd stolen a cigarette from the butler and hurried outside the kitchen door to have the respite of a quiet smoke in the fading light of the garden.

THEM:: Lost in his own reverie, he took his time walking around the manor, wandering aimlessly, as had often been the case with him lately. His mind was preoccupied with the gathering that his family would be throwing the following night. His father had taken it up to himself to help Sean peruse through all the single young women who would likely be a bankable wife for his son. Considering the way his parents had been breathing down his neck about meeting someone, lately, he had been plagued with doubts of whether he would ever find someone, riddled by the thought that perhaps he was looking too far. As he turned the corner, he saw the same young lady he spoke to just a few days back. Certain that she would rather be left alone than to even spend a moment to talk to him, he braved through the former and cleared his throat to make his presence known. It wasn't so much to scare her away, but to make her aware that she wasn't alone. He studied her face, for the first time given the chance to truly see what she looked like. She kept lowering her gaze the previous time they spoke, not really allowing him to get a good look at her. A faint smile played across his lips as he approached her. "Hello," he said softly, keeping his gaze low as if their roles were reversed and he was the one not allowed to even look her in the eye.

ME: She blew the smoke from her lungs quickly when she heard his voice, nearly choking herself. She put the back of her hand to her mouth to try to surpress the urge. Surprised at his tentative, very informal greeting it took her a moment to collect herself. She smoothed down her apron and stood a bit straighter. She watched him as he averted his gaze from hers, a small smile gracing her face at their role reversal.

Billie didn't bother to put her cap back on her head, as propriety would have called for, instead she dug in the pocket of her apron for the other cigarette she had planned on saving for later. Propriety be damned. She held it out to him. "You're welcome to it, sir. You look like you need it. But mind you it's my last one."