Life's Melody

Elizabeth Satterfield has lived a life of misery thanks to her ever cruel and scheming step-sisters. But one chance meeting with Lord Robert Winston leaves Elizabeth hopeful of a life away from the shadows. A life filled with magic and love; nothing less than a fairytale.

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2. Chapter One

     I walked towards the park after lunch. I only had an hour but I needed to write some more of my book. I approached the park and noticed a crowd had gathered on the grass. I sat down on one of the benches, and took my notebook and pen out of my bag. I looked back up at the crowd again and the crowd had receded, revealing a group of lads playing football. Nothing interesting really, well, that's what I thought before I saw Robert Winston. Although I wasn't quite sure why he was there. I went back to writing the next chapter of my book and heard shouts coming from the crowd indicating that someone had scored a goal. I looked up and there was a woman with a bucket asking if I had any loose change I could donate. It was obviously a charity football match, which explained why Robert Winston was there. I made a donation and practically emptied my purse in the process, and the woman moved on. On to the next person in her I eyesight.

      As I rounded off the chapter and closed my notebook I was hit on the top of my head by a rogue football. I looked up, the suspect - ball - was sitting on the ground behind me. I put the notebook to one side and picked the ball up. No sooner had I grabbed the ball than I heard a voice behind me; "Sorry about that." it was a voice that told me its owner had been to all the right schools and clubs. He was probably a former Eton boy, which would make me - a northerner - look even more common.

     I turned around and my gaze met with Lord Roberts. His hair a soft brown colour and the same as his eyes, his face looked younger than his twenty eight years, though only two or three years younger and his lips. Those lips, I could have kissed them there and then. But, that wouldn't have been proper - or ladylike - so I just said "Don't worry about it." Ugh, Gran would have a fit if she heard be using that phrase. I buried my anger when I looked at him, I handed him the ball back and picked up my bag. "I have to go." I told him. It wasn't a lie, I actually had somewhere to be.

     You see, I'm a student at the Hyde Park School of Dramatic Arts and though Dad doesn't agree he had no choice but to allow me to attend the school. We had a deal that I would take practical subjects alongside Performing Arts subjects at GCSE and A-level, and apply to places like Oxford and Cambridge, and he would allow me to attend a performing arts school. I kept mine; and gained A and A* grades so he had to keep his. But he didn't half try and talk me out of it when I began packing. But I didn't have to rush off to a lesson, I had work. I'm a waitress/ barmaid in a pub, not the most exciting of part time jobs, but it pays the rent and I can buy new clothes and shoes. The downside to working in a pub - especially after five - is that I have a load of pervs to contend with. Again, Gran would hate the language I'm using and the fact that I work in a pub. What did she always tell me when I was growing up? Oh yeah, "a Lady never works in a pub." I used to say that I wouldn't until I turned eighteen and got here. I have friends that work in the pub and I have to say, if it wasn't for them I would have quit and found a new job ages ago.

     I got to work with two minutes to spare and I ran into my best friend; Emily Bartoli. "You just made Beth." she said as I put my jacket and bag into the back room. Her dark hair tied up into a rough ponytail with hair grips holding the stragglers in place. She had a light coat of make-up on as usual, though to be honest she didn't need a lot to enhance her Italian features. I've always been jealous of that, Emily has Italian ancestry, and with it a natural beauty that I would kill to have. The only thing I know about my ancestry, is that Robin Hood is in it.

     "I know. I always do." I said, giving myself a quick glance in the mirror before heading behind the bar. "I was writing the next chapter of my book - which I will upload tonight by the way - and I may have met Robert Winston."

     "Lord Robert Winston?" she asked suddenly alert.

     "Do you know any other Robert Winstons? And anyway, I didn't intend to meet him you know, he kicked the football and it hit me on the head." I told her as I poured someone a pint. I really didn't want to talk about the incident, but I'd already started and Emily wasn't about to end the conversation.

     "So, what happened? Did you get butterflies in your stomach? Did you fall in love with him on the spot?"

     "Yes to the first and No to the second. Though I did want to kiss him."

     "You wanted to kiss him, and yet you denied that it wasn't love at first sight." Emily began.

     "Em, it wasn't love. It was more of an impulse issue." I turned as I heard my name get called out from the other end of the bar. My boss. What did I do this time I wonder, oh no. Please don't make me do the washing up again, please make Marti and Noelle do it this time. Please, please, please.

     No such luck. I'm stuck in the kitchen basically tied to the sink while Marti Renden and Noelle Donnegan sit down and gossip. Oh, I wish hurt them, or at least say something to them. You in the heat of the moment just throwing insults at them? Of course, I'm too polite to do that one but never mind. I had plenty of time to think about the next chapter of my book as I washed the dishes. The ideas went around my head and I was so excited about thinking out 

the entire chapter, and getting it ready to be written into my notebook that I may have accidentally spoken one or two of the main characters 'lines' out loud. Luckily though, I was in a secluded corner of the kitchens so no one would have been able to hear me unless they were bringing plates, which they'd done before I started talking to myself.

     When Emily and I had finished our shifts, we headed towards the back room to collect our things. Which was when I discovered that my notebook wasn't in my bag. I was absolutely frantic. If I've lost it, that's it. I've lost my

book and I couldn't remember where I'd left it. Wait. That's it I must have left it on the bench at the park. I have got to start keeping a better eye on my stuff, before I lose something really important - not that my book isn't important - but there are other things that are so much more important. I just hope that whoever picks it up looks at the inside cover, and return it to me asap, in the mean time though I'll just have to use bits of scrap paper to write any further chapters on.

 

     As soon as we arrived back at the flat I began preparing dinner. Creamy Fettuccine since Thursdays are pasta night. Emily finished off an essay while she waited, I on the other hand needed to work on the duet I had to perform at the showcase at the end of term. But, that could wait until tomorrow afternoon when I meet up with my partner Daniel McClean-Grant. I wonder what song he's picked for us. Please don't let it be something from Grease. Emily came out of her room just as I was putting the food onto plates, carrying her laptop looking at me with a great big grin on her face. "What?" I asked as she sat down.

      "Well," she began and the way she said it made me worry. "you may or may not have made the papers today."

      "Excuse me?"

      "Ok, just remember that the football match today was for charity." she paused, "You were snapped talking to Robert Winston." she blurted out showing me the story on a gossip site.

      "What!?" I grabbed the laptop and read the story. "'Could this be Lord Winstons Cinderella?'" I quoted the story. "He apologized for hitting me on the head with the ball, it's not like we had a candlelit dinner." I closed Emily's laptop and sat down to eat dinner. I tried as hard as I could to put the story out of my mind but I couldn't. I want to be taken seriously in show business, but if people find out that I am the girl that 'spoke' to Robert Winston, that'll never happen.

       "Look," Emily said trying to kill the silence. "The photo was taken from a good angle, you can't tell that it's you."

       I wanted to believe that was true but there are people who will recognize me instantly. Marti and Noelle for one. They're my step-sisters and they have done their best to make my life a living hell since my father married their mother. As an only child I have never had the chance to get my own back - though I did dream of going on the show Get Your Own Back - so I stayed out of their way as much as possible. Hanging out in the tree house all day during the holidays and going round to Emily's. I also began writing to my cousin Evelyn up North every week as a way of releasing my anger about the gruesome twosome. So I haven't totally been on my own - if I had been I would probably have gone crazy. "Yeah, your right." I said "No one in their right mind would believe it's me in the photo."

         "Exactly," Em began, though I wasn't sure if even she thought so. "So, are you going to upload the next chapter then?"

         "Yeah, about that." I said hoping she wouldn't ask too many questions. "I may or may not have left the notebook in the park." I finished the last of fettuccine, and headed to the sink with my plate. I had to avoid eye contact with Emily.

         "You left it in the park?" she raised an eyebrow. Though she made it sound like she was demanding that I give her an answer. I nodded, but I couldn't turn around to look her in the for fear of laughing.

         "To be fair, I was in a hurry and it's not like it's any good. I mean it's only been read two hundred times." 

         "So? That's still two hundred more reads than mine had."

         "One hundred and ninety nine actually. I read yours." and I was the only person that had read it when she deleted it after only one day. I told her to leave it up and keep checking to see if other people had read it and been sucked in, but no luck. She swore that from that moment on, she would stick to writing news stories and features about films and books.

         "Ok, well don't worry. I will explain everything and get anyone in London to keep an eye out for it." Emily's kind of taken it upon herself to be my PA, where my writing (and future acting) career is concerned. She also does a lot of PR for me. She's forever advertising my 'book' and getting people to sign up to Wattpad so that they can read, comment and vote on it. She even set up a Facebook and Twitter page for it. Don't get me wrong, I love her to bits and she's always going to be my bestie but I think that, at times, she does go a bit overboard.

        "Maybe you should forget applying to newspapers for internships and go for PR companies instead." I joked. "You already have a little experience."

        "Beth that's a brilliant idea!" she burst out. "I could intern at a PR company and then handle that side of things for you when we graduate."

        "Em, what about writing reviews for films and books that have just  come out?" I asked. "I thought we agreed that you'd get a job on a newspaper as a reviewer and then I could invite you to a premier." 

       "I know. I know, but I've been promoting your book on Wattpad, Facebook , Twitter and everything. Maybe PR is more my thing."

        "What are you talking about? You write brilliant reviews." I told her not quite understanding what she was talking about.

        "I know." she replied. "And I can still do that on my blog, but I was just thinking that someone has to make sure you stay on the right side of the media." I didn't know whether to laugh at that or be offended; even if I had once

taken the keys to every bit of machinery on a building site in protest to overpopulation. I was twelve by the way. Dad was disappointed, and my sisters loved the fact that I was in trouble.

     "Ok, I will stay out of it." I announced decidedly. "You think about your career and I will think about mine." I finished the last of the washing up and put everything away before heading to my room. I walked with my bag over to the desk and placed my final essay of the year into it and placed it on to the chair before going over and lying on my front on the bed. I had about forty-five minutes to read Pride and Prejudice before Emily came bounding in asking if I wanted to go out tomorrow night in celebration of us surviving our seconds year as students. "Em, that sounds like a plan, but I can't."

     "Summer Performance prep?" Em inquired.

     "Yep, and I need a clear head. Although I'm sure we could have a night out Wednesday and go shopping or something Thursday."

     "Dan still does the whole mid-week thing huh?" I nodded with a smile creeping onto my face. "Ok, Wednesday night it is then. Don't make any plans." I give her a mock salute as she left to catch the latest episode of Britain and Irelands Next Top Model. 

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