DN Eight-shot: First Meeting Pt 6

July 28th 1994

Mihael reached up to open the door to Ann's little office, but paused when he heard voices. Ann was in there. Her soft Winchester accent quietly soothing and comforting inside. He listened carefully, with his ear up to the wood, and discerned that the crying boy was Alberto. Mihael bit his lip. He wanted to speak to Ann very, very badly. He wanted to tell her about the cat in the basement. He considered his options. The other ladies were always too busy and Roger never listened. He said things like, 'how are you getting on with Mail?' Then tutted over pieces of paper that he didn't even show to Mihael. Mihael frowned. He needed to tell Ann. That was the only person. He pulled on the handle and marched in. "Ann."

"One moment, darling. I'm talking with Alberto right now." Ann looked slightly harassed. Alberto was curled up in a heap on one chair. "Is it very important, Mihael?"

Mihael hung from one hand on the handle and rode the door a few inches inwards. He thought about it. The cat was already dead. He shook his head. "Why does Alberto cry like baby?"

"Out, Mihael." Ann pointed. "And knock before you come in next time."

Mihael blew out his cheeks and released the door. "I has no-one to play with!"

On the chair, Alberto was hurriedly wiping his eyes on the back of his forearm. Ann put a hand onto his shoulder to stop him rising. "Mihael, out please."

Mihael sighed and left. He ended up alone in the long corridor, but could smell dinner cooking through the refectory door. There was a long hatch in there, though which the kitchen ladies served their meals. It smelled delicious. He thought of the cat again and wondered if it was right to eat, when one of God's creatures had been so mutilated just under their feet. He heard Mrs Carnegie's loud voice booming out, "So I said to our Shirley, she's no better than she ought to be. All fur coat and no knickers that one. Doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

Mihael rushed forward and slipped through the door into the kitchen. Mrs Carnegie was scrubbing down a huge work station in the centre of the room, while the two other ladies sipped cups of tea. One of them was the lady who delivered groceries from somewhere outside. He gave her a charming smile. "Did you bring sweeties?"

"Mihael!" Mrs Carnegie warned. "Your dinner will be ready in two hours. Don't go wasting your appetite."

"Did you?"

The lady laughed. "He's like a little doll, isn't he? I love the Little Lord Fauntleroy hair style."

Mrs Carnegie rounded on him. "Mihael, what have you been told about coming into the kitchen? There's machinery here that little boy's fingers should not be near."

Mihael fixed her with a bright stare, "Mrs Carngy, what is all fur coat and no knickers?"

The ladies laughed. Sandra, the other kitchen lady, spluttered through a gulp of tea and it sprayed the table. The grocery lady was red with mirth. Mrs Carnegie didn't look impressed. "Are you listening at doors?"

"No." Mihael stated, dumbfounded. He had been standing in the middle of the refectory at the time, nowhere near to the door. He had made his way across the kitchen to the delivery boxes waiting by the pantry door. His quick gaze took in as many of the contents as he could see without digging. Mrs Carnegie coughed behind him and Mihael turned, fearful at being spotted. "I didn't lis..." But she was holding up a chocolate bar. Mihael's heart leapt, as he reached out for it. "Ah čokolada!"

"Pardon?"

Mihael awarded her with a beatific smile. "Chocolate!" He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, making the ladies all coo in watching him. "Please!"

Mrs Carnegie handed it over. "Now get out of my kitchen."

"I can stay here. I can be quiet." Mihael pulled at one of the big, wooden, kitchen stools.

"Erm, no." Mrs Carnegie stated decisively. She reached across and, lifting Mihael up, deposited him outside the kitchen door. "Go and play." She instructed, as she shut the door behind her. Mihael blinked at it. He heard her say inside. "Last time we allowed one of them to hang around in here, there was Hell to pay."

"Oh?" The grocery lady asked.

"Got fixated on one of my assistants and fell into a bad way when she left." Mrs Carnegie sniffed. "Trouble is, they're all orphans. They'll fixate on anyone for a bit of love and attention."

"Poor mites."

"Yes."

Mihael unwrapped his chocolate bar and nibbled on the edge. It was a big bar. It would keep him going for three days! Maybe two. He considered it. He might eat it all now. He wandered away through the house, stopping by the common room, but Beyond was in there reading a book and Mihael thought that he might have had something to do with the cat. He backed away, deciding to go to the library instead. It was lonely in there but the whole house was lonely. There might be books in there that showed him how to get back to Yugoslavia. He started running in that direction, but Roger was blocking his path. "Ah! Mihael, just the fellow. This way please."

Mihael's stomach flipped. He was going to ask about Mail and Mihael was going to be in trouble. He could feel the tears already starting to form in his eyes, as he was ushered into the office. He stood in front of the huge desk, while Roger took a seat on the opposite side. Mihael took a big bite of his chocolate out of sheer nervousness, then spoke over it. "I did try to speak to Mail."

"Good." Roger peered over his glasses. "And did he respond?"

"Respond?"

"Talk back."

Mihael shook his head. He said emphatically. "I are sorry!"

Roger gave the slightest of nods, then lifted a book which Mihael recognised as one of his own schoolbooks. "This is the work that you did for Dr Gibson."

Mihael's eyes were wide. He suddenly wanted the toilet very badly. He nodded mutely. Roger stared at him. Mihael whispered. "Yes."

"It is very good."

Mihael's whole body relaxed, as he exhaled in relief. He grinned broadly. "My Mama said I are good at stuff."

"Yet Mail is still outstripping you in just about every class." Roger replied gravely. "You really need to try harder, Mihael. This level of work may have been good enough for your Mama, but it's not good enough for Wammy's House."

Mihael stood frozen. The chocolate in his hand snapped in two and half of it fell onto the floor. He ducked down to pick it up, to buy himself time to reply. He rose again, eyes huge. "Sorry."

Roger placed the book, with one very precise movement, onto his desk. "I believe that you are having a tutorial on the computer shortly."

"I don't know."

"You should know your schedule, Mihael." Roger stated gravely. Tears overspilled Mihael's eyes and trickled down his cheeks. Roger coughed. "Go to your tutorial. It is at 3 o'clock." He looked towards the big clock. Mihael followed his gaze. It was half past 2. "I will ask Mrs Wendum to set you a task in competition with Mail, on the computer. We will see then how you fared against him." Mihael was trembling from head to toe. Roger watched him. "Have you any questions?"

Mihael nodded. "What is outstr...?" He couldn't remember how the word had sounded. "Outstripit... ting."

"Mail is doing better than you, Mihael." Roger replied. "Are you going to let that continue?"

Mihael felt mortified. "No!"

"Good boy." Roger stood to walk across to the door and open it. "Off you go then." It felt like a thousand miles across that office floor. Mihael's head was bowed, as he walked them and passed under Roger's arm to the safety of the hallway. "And Mihael, please remember that you are supposed to be engaging Mail. Please talk with him."

Mihael gave a stiff nod. The door closed behind him and he sat on the bottom step of the staircase, devouring the entire chocolate bar. It took him ten minutes to wonder exactly what 'engaging' meant.

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