Matron Halliwell

The walk to Matron Halliwell's door felt even longer than the walk back from Sir Bothwell's had, even though her chambers were much much closer to the kitchens.

The barracks that housed the young women attending the school were right beside the kitchens with a small upstairs area given over to the house staff. Connie and Mary walked passed row upon row of rooms, all of them with there doors flung open and all of them seeming to be more bare and spartan than even the most pious of nuns quarters. The house staff seemed to live an even more basic and harsh life than the young ladies with chambers that consisted of nothing more than a single rough cot and a table and chair.

Somehow seeing that made Connie hope that maybe the Matron wouldn’t be all that bad. If she was living like this then she might have more sympathy for the girls and what they had to go through. Connie wondered if Mary had maybe misunderstood her look, maybe the shake of the head had meant that they wouldn’t have to deal with the same shameful treatment?

That thought had almost calmed Connie down by the time Mary stopped in front of the last door in the hallways. As the other girl carefully rang the bell Connie couldn’t help but notice that the hallway went on for quite some distance past the last door.

She realised what that must mean as the door was swung open.

“Ah! Breakfast is here!”

The woman who opened the door to the chambers was about as far away from any Matron Connie had seen as it was possible to be. She was used to greying older women with needlepoint eyes and a way of holding themselves that suggested they viewed youth as a moral failing they had had the good breeding to grow out of.

Yet the woman that stepped aside and gestured for them both to come in was young and bright-eyed. Her clothing a clashing collage of colours and patterns that were hard to look away from and the chamber beyond was even more bright. Huge tapestries of a type Connie had never seen before hung from every wall, some of them hanging down onto the floor to become rugs. A massive four-poster bed dominated the space yet more brightly coloured furs and throws piled atop it in such quantities that Connie couldn’t help but wonder how Halliwell could even get under them to sleep.

She was so amazed by the decorations that she nearly forgot why she was there, only remembering herself when Mary gave a meaningful cough.

Connie blushed and quickly placed her tray down on the shinning surface of the table that sat at the foot of the bed as Matron Halliwell merely giggled at her obvious awe.

“If you think that this chamber is astounding then you should come through here.” Her voice was as sharp as ever yet still Connie felt strangely at ease as Matron Halliwell pushed open a door that had blended into the wall and gestured for the pair of them to step through.

Connie moved to head through first, her excitement getting the better of her even as a tiny part of her noticed the way that Mary had suddenly tensed up even more than usual. Still, she was through the door and pushing through a thick curtain of hanging beads before she could think about it.