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He threw dinner on the floor. He broke the dishes and didn’t care. He told me I had changed and he doesn’t like it. If I know what’s good for me I'd better find the girl I used to be.” Taking a deep breath and letting out another sob she continued, “I told him I couldn’t take his mood swings anymore. That we're through and that I'm leaving. He called me lots of names and said I'd never make it without him.” Closing his eyes he had pictured his little one, the strongest woman he had ever met. She had endured so much in her life to put up with this behavior from someone who vowed to love, honor and cherish her. He told her, “Shhh my little one. I know baby girl. I want you to listen to me now. I'm coming for you. Gather your essentials and I’ll be there shortly.” He had got there and found her in her bedroom lying on the bed sobbing. That was two hours ago. Now he knows just what she needs to relax. Carrying her up the steps to the bathroom he runs a warm bath for her, adding relaxing. Brian said something to the effect that he thought Miss Carson was making it all up, a foolish move that ended up with him being grabbed by the ear, dragged to the front of the class and asked to read out the appropriate passage from a dusty old book that turned out to be a 19th century manual for household servants. The rest of us, all busily pursuing a “let’s keep quiet so we don’t get ourselves into trouble” approach, just tried to remember it all.Then came the practical. It was a bizarre set up. Seated at a table that stood by a bay window in the lounge were our “guests” for tea; two elegantly dressed, shop-window dummies. “You are all far too inexperienced to practice on any of us,” Miss Carson announced, seeing our looks of disbelief at being expected to wait on mannequins. “When you can do things properly for Amanda and Sally here, you MAY be allowed to try serving Miss Matilda or her guests.”First of all we had to lay up a table for afternoon tea. Miss Carson stood by.
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