Cindy Rella/Breakfast
In the kitchen, Fanny, the kitchen maid/cook/general dogsbody, is bustling around cooking up the breakfast porridge. The kitchen is huge, a reminder of the days when the Baron was wealthy and employed dozens of staff, but now only one corner is used. There is a wooden table, scrubbed white and half a dozen chairs.
Old Cocky, the groom comes in, smelling of horse manure and sits down at one end of the table. Nobody knows how old Old Cocky is, but everyone knows that he prefers animals to people and that he keeps his favourite ewe in a loose box.
Buttons, his daughter is already shovelling porridge into her mouth. Buttons is about twelve or thirteen years old (nobody knows for sure) and, as usual, with her short hair, baggy shirt and short trousers, she looks more like a boy.
"We used to get bacon and eggs for breakfast," Buttons grumbles through a mouthful of porridge. "If the Baron put more effort into getting his lazy tenants to pay their rent and less into trying to snag a wealthy heiress, things would be a lot better around here."
Little Dick wanders in and sits down. "The Baron says we've got visitors coming and I've got to tidy up the front of the castle," he says, and then concentrates on his porridge. Little Dick got his name because his father was known as Big Dick. He's a couple of years older than Buttons and although everyone calls him Little Dick, his cock is far from little. He supposed to sleep in a room above the stables, but ever since she reached her eighth birthday and he introduced her to his pride and joy, he's been sneaking into your bedroom pretty much every night.
"Any idea who," Buttons asks. Everyone shakes their heads.
"It's Old Soldiers day today," you say. You look across at Buttons. "You going to give me a hand?"