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Mid June, Demelza
It's been a few months now, and Liesel feels like she's finally starting to settle into this city. When she'd first arrived on Himmel Street it had taken a while to get used to things, until suddenly it felt like home. It sneaked up on her, surprising her with how suddenly Mama and Papa felt like family, with how quickly Rudy wriggled his way into her graces and refused to let go. She hadn't wanted to like it at first, but in the end she hadn't really had much choice in the matter.
Darrow was a little like that, too. It's even more different than Molching had been, and there are days where she doesn't think she'll ever really understand it, but there are plenty of good things, too. There are people here who are very nice to her though she can't always tell why, and there are lots of books to read and the weather is truly lovely. She doesn't like school too much but she's managed to keep a low enough profile that nobody really bothers her that much, and at the end of the day she gets to come home to Green Gardens and read with Saoirse, or cook with Greta in the kitchen. Then there's the magic, which Liesel thinks has to be her favourite part. She's watched Baz and Simon do magic before, but even that hadn't been as delightful as floating around in the park last month.
The more comfortable she gets, the bolder she gets. There aren't too many rules at Green Gardens besides the obvious, and for the most part Liesel is left to her own devices. She's been in the library reading, and it's a long time before she realises that the sun has long sunk below the horizon and everybody else has gone to their rooms to sleep for the night. She packs away her books, putting the ones she'd borrowed back on the shelf where they belong, and starts to pad back through the halls, grateful that she's wearing socks and no shoes.
It's when she passes the kitchen that her stomach grumbles and Liesel realises that she must have missed dinner. If she were at home, Mama would have scolded her and told her that she would have to go to bed with no supper, but Liesel isn't going to be put off that easily. She's learned her way around the kitchens a little better since her lessons with Greta, so she looks each way quickly to make sure she's not seen before she slips inside and shuts the door behind her. Once she's alone in the kitchen, she's struck by how much choice she has. She's still getting used to how plentiful food is in Darrow, how many things beside pea soup there is to eat. She can hardly choose where to start, turning around slowly in the kitchen as her hands hover over each of the cupboard doors.
There's a noise in the hall outside, and Liesel knows the jig is up a second before the door opens, but she's reasonably confident she won't get in too much trouble. At the most she'll be sent off to bed and told not to wander, but she's already slipped two cookies into her dress pocket in case.
Darrow was a little like that, too. It's even more different than Molching had been, and there are days where she doesn't think she'll ever really understand it, but there are plenty of good things, too. There are people here who are very nice to her though she can't always tell why, and there are lots of books to read and the weather is truly lovely. She doesn't like school too much but she's managed to keep a low enough profile that nobody really bothers her that much, and at the end of the day she gets to come home to Green Gardens and read with Saoirse, or cook with Greta in the kitchen. Then there's the magic, which Liesel thinks has to be her favourite part. She's watched Baz and Simon do magic before, but even that hadn't been as delightful as floating around in the park last month.
The more comfortable she gets, the bolder she gets. There aren't too many rules at Green Gardens besides the obvious, and for the most part Liesel is left to her own devices. She's been in the library reading, and it's a long time before she realises that the sun has long sunk below the horizon and everybody else has gone to their rooms to sleep for the night. She packs away her books, putting the ones she'd borrowed back on the shelf where they belong, and starts to pad back through the halls, grateful that she's wearing socks and no shoes.
It's when she passes the kitchen that her stomach grumbles and Liesel realises that she must have missed dinner. If she were at home, Mama would have scolded her and told her that she would have to go to bed with no supper, but Liesel isn't going to be put off that easily. She's learned her way around the kitchens a little better since her lessons with Greta, so she looks each way quickly to make sure she's not seen before she slips inside and shuts the door behind her. Once she's alone in the kitchen, she's struck by how much choice she has. She's still getting used to how plentiful food is in Darrow, how many things beside pea soup there is to eat. She can hardly choose where to start, turning around slowly in the kitchen as her hands hover over each of the cupboard doors.
There's a noise in the hall outside, and Liesel knows the jig is up a second before the door opens, but she's reasonably confident she won't get in too much trouble. At the most she'll be sent off to bed and told not to wander, but she's already slipped two cookies into her dress pocket in case.
no subject
Well, perhaps George Warleggan would deserve such cruelty, but few other people.
"I've heard very little German," she admits, very interested in different languages, though she still sometimes struggles with her letters in English. The words of other languages sound strange and magical and romantic to her and she doesn't think she'll ever be able to learn them for herself, no matter how hard she might try. "Do 'ee speak it fluently? When I came to live with Ross, that's my husband, I didn't even know how to read or write my letters, but I learned with his help and it's gotten even better here, but I shall always be better at math. Numbers make sense to be sometimes when letters don't. I must doubt I could ever learn another language."
no subject
There are still days that she accidentally defaults to her native tongue, not entirely comfortable with all of the English words, but she's learning more the longer she stays here. Nobody has made fun of her and everybody she knows seems to want to go out of their way to help her adjust to the city. She's been lucky, she knows, but then Liesel had gotten relatively lucky back home, too. She's starting to get better at spotting it when it happens.
It's funny she thinks, how opposite they are. Words make sense to Liesel in a way that nothing else does, but numbers can leave her blank. Kids at school had laughed at her in the beginning when she didn't know how to read or write, but as soon as she grasped the basics, she left them behind in the dust. Not so with math. "I struggle with numbers a little," she admits, shaking her head. "Papa taught me how to read and write when I was very young, and we practised all the time." She thinks of her old basement, covered in painted words and the alphabet. Maybe Demelza needs somebody to teach her the way Papa did.
no subject
"Or if 'ee need another dinner when you've missed the meal with the others," she teases. "And perhaps you can show me how better to do my letters."
Demelza isn't so proud a person that she wouldn't learn from a child. She's of the mind, in fact, that children know much more than many adults and that there is plenty to be learned from them if only people would listen.