"To conquer frustration, one must remain intently focused on the outcome, not the obstacles." – T.F Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with 'The Divine Presence'

I breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs Tilder left me to my own devises. Looking at everything before me, I decided to work in sections. Starting at the back-left corner, I'd work clockwise around the room. It dawned on me just how much work lay before me and just how much was going to be moved or chucked out. I resolved to ask Mrs Tilder for some large cardboard boxes next time I saw her. I wished I'd asked before Mrs Tilder walked away but there was no point in dwelling on that now.

As I started, I definitely felt overwhelmed, but I was nothing if not committed to the task before me. It seemed easiest to start with the papers – there was so much written word; of course it was more of a read through the past than an actual sort out, but I reminded myself that even slow work could be rewarding. For every paper that I successfully sorted, there was another that kept me occupied for much longer than necessary. Before long, it seemed that I'd left the present behind and delved into the past. The house has been a structural masterpiece to build at the turn of the seventeenth century and it seemed that no expense had been spared. From the gold detail that lined the ceilings to the glossed oak wooden doors and the artwork that came later. The place was magnificent, and I hadn't even seen half of it yet. I understood that the lavish and expensive aspects of these treasures were what sent many of these homes running to the National Trust for protection and an income to ensure their survival, so I was particularly impressed that a home of this grandeur was still surviving.

Working well through the day, I worked out a system. I had piles for storage, a pile for display and a pile for the bin. I also had a fourth pile of things that demanded a longer look and a more thorough read. It could be argued that the fourth pile was created just to satisfy my own curiosity, but I would deny everything if asked!

The arrival of Mrs Tilder brought me out of the paper cave I'd created. I stood up and rolled my aching joints. I had to remember to sit in a chair next time and not crouch on the floor for so long.

"My dear, thank goodness you are alright."

"Whatever do you mean Mrs Tilder? Is something the matter?" I asked.

"You missed lunch my dear. When you failed to turn up, I panicked, what if you had gotten lost? I know one tour isn't enough to get your bearings."

"It's lunchtime?"

"My dear child, it's almost three o'clock."

I blinked repeatedly like I was trying to blink away sleep dust. Giggling I turned to Mrs Tilder but the slack jawed expression on the woman's face just made me giggle louder.

"Sorry for causing you concern, when I work, I tend to forget about everything else and get stuck into the job at hand. That includes missing lunch."

I shifted so a sheepish expression filled my face and hoped I hadn't worried Mrs Tilder too much. In the short time I'd known Mrs Tilder, I knew she had a flare for the dramatics.

"Well then it's just good fortune that I brought a tray of food to you."

I smiled at all the smugness radiating from Mrs Tilder's voice. If I were never to meet the Marquis of Flyzroy Castle, at least I'd made a lasting friend in Mrs Tilder.

"Thank you."

The thanks was unnecessary, but I knew from the look on Mrs Tilder's face that it was the right move to make. 

Things began to fit into a routine. Every morning after breakfast I would retire to the storage room and sort through what lay there. If the boxes I used had been filled the night before, there would always be empty ones waiting come morning. I had successfully cleaned the back-left corner of the room and was now working my way across the back wall.

Having learnt my tendency to skip lunch, Mrs Tilder always came with a tray of lunch for the two of us to share. I settled quite nicely into the routine set before me. It had become such a natural thing to do that I scarcely remembered the worries of my previous life. I no longer checked my voicemail, knowing the sympathetic wishers would only get on my nerves. I was also glad that didn't have to worry about my flat anymore, because I could imagine the stress of needing to pay off a flat that I was no longer living in.

I tried, in my daily lunches with Mrs Tilder, to gain some knowledge of the mysterious Marquis. Where Mrs Tilder was free in her chatter of every topic, she seemed tight lipped and reluctant to share more about the Marquis than was necessary. I did manage to pry information about his general appearance. He apparently had brown hair, green eyes and was tall. Beyond that, Mrs Tilder seemed reluctant to talk of him. She mentioned that he was a kind and loving Master, a gentleman but a recluse who was rarely seen outside of the comfort of his own rooms. It seemed that he suffered from a weak heart that was fragile and left him unwilling to put himself in harm's way.

"I apologise for all the questions Mrs Tilder. I am merely curious."

I had found that simple honestly worked best with Mrs Tilder, I understood that I had perhaps pushed Mrs Tilder a little too far with my questions and I didn't want to push our friendship too far.

"It's quite alright dear but I suggest you just get on with your job and not pursue things. If the Master wishes to see you then I've no doubt that he will."

I didn't have the resolve to touch upon the subject again and indeed I spent much of my time following that conversation pretending the Marquis didn't exist. With the staff around me keeping me occupied, all my thoughts and curiosities about the Marquis faded like a distant dream.

This was the perfect job for me, and I didn't want to spoil it by prying. It was helping me in more ways than one and I hadn't even thought of Philip since I'd got settled here. It was as if all the bad in the past had disappeared. 

I sighed, pouring over yet more papers from 1850 and tucking my red hair behind my ear. Why would anyone even bother to keep receipts from 1850? Far from the joy I felt when I first started the job, I now felt slightly stuck in the mud with what I had already sorted. Most stuff had been thrown away while the rest had been put back on the shelves in a more organised way. Those I'd singled out to be displayed had been put in a separate box. I couldn't put them on display in the Castle – or elsewhere – till I had the Marquis's permission and I was trying very hard not to think of the non-existent man.

"Here you go Miss, I thought you'd appreciate the cool breeze."

I turned, startled, to find Mr Wasgu standing behind me. In my short stay I'd become closer to the old-fashioned butler than Mrs Tilder and now it seemed I was stuck in a battle with the two for my attention. Mr Wasgu had brought me a fan, which, despite the vast amounts of paper lying around, was a good thing as I was boiling. There were no windows in the storage room and though I assumed it became quite cold in the winter, it was roasting in the summer.

"I brought you some lunch as well. Mrs Tilder sends her regards but I'm afraid she'll be unable to join you for lunch today."

"Is she alright?"

"Perfectly, please don't trouble yourself. She merely has other jobs to attend to today. I know she is most put out at not being able to sit with you today as she has become quite fond of your lunches together."

I thought it very touching that Mrs Tilder was in fond of me. Indeed I was incredibly comforted that everyone had taken to me so well and that I had formed such lasting friendships in such a short time. I was constantly finding myself experiencing that warm fuzzy feeling that comes with meeting good people.

"If you need nothing else, I'll be going now. Don't hesitate to seek me out if you do need any help."

I thanked the older gentleman profusely before sending him on his way and I settled comfortably in an armchair and ate my way through the delicious cold meats and salad I'd been given.

After lunch it was back to the grind, work was important after all even when it was classified. As I was sifting through piles of paper on a desk, something was disturbed and rolled off the desk, landing with a bang on the floor. I sighed in frustration and stopped what I was doing to find what had been dropped. Searching the floor on my hands and knees wasn't something particularly enjoyable but sacrifices must be made. AS it turned out, what was dropped seemed important in terms of 'to chuck out or not to chuck out.' The ornate gold ring sparkled in the artificial light and the emeralds gleamed up at her in an inviting manner. Perhaps it was a good thing that I was already so close to the ground for it made the fall seem like nothing. 

[2019 1st Person Edition]