Walking The Stairs

 I've had a lesson on how to use stairs this morning, apparently I've using them like a herd of cart horses.

When on my way down to breakfast this morning I arrived at the bottom of the stairs to find grandfather standing there hands on hips, and half a fried egg in his moustache,  giving me the dead eye. 

"What?", I asked. Instantly aware that I was about to get it in the neck for some reason. One is never sure half the time. 

"Get back up those stairs and come down them properly", was his reply.

As I say, who knows what his problems is, I got to the bottom in one piece what more was there to coming down a flight of stairs? I got nearly to the first landing when I heard, 

"QUIET!"

This was when he informed me that I sounded like a herd of cart horses. Thereafter I climbed to the top and then came back down the four flights, two flights per floor. Being wooden with no covering it's hard not to make any noise.

I arrived at the bottom to be told to go and do it again as he heard me. I started to argue but was told, 

"Don't answer me back girl, or that will be another lesson you will need to be taught."

So this time I was determined not to let him hear me. This time I got half way down and then was told, "I heard that, do it again."

It was the slightest of noises as I stepped onto the middle landing. In my frustration I then went and made another noise climbing back up which got me bawled out again. 

This time at the top I took my shoes off and crept down in my socks half expecting to be accused of cheating when I got to the bottom. In actual fact he sort of gave me a compliment I think. I'm never sure as he can even make a compliment sound like a put down.

"Oh my goodness, you do actually possess some common sense after all," he said sarcastically.

But then, stupidly thinking that was  lesson over, I dropped my shoes on the tiled floor intending to sit on the bottom step and reattach them to my feet.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" He yelled.

"I'm telling you now, you WILL learn to do this even if I have to stand here all day teaching you," he said, right in my face now.

I was told to do it again. So off I went and at the second landing I was called back to the bottom.

"What are those?" he asked pointing to my shoes on the floor where I'd dropped them. 

I hate it when he asks me a question that he already knows the answer too. I told him they were my shoes, and then said he said that shouldn't I pick them up. So I pointed out that I was hopefully only going to be minute and then I'd be putting them on.

"Well it only takes one second for Ms Oliver to come around that corner, trip over your shoes that you threw there in temper and end up in hospital with a broken arm," he replied.

I'm not sure why he was referring to only Ms Oliver, if he wants to go down that road there are other people beside her. I didn't say a word, just picked up my shoes and set off back up the stairs - almost forgetting why I was doing it. Thankfully he didn't notice my heavy foot fall on the first three steps on account on him still going on about none existent broken arms. Apparently it amounted to sixty in total in the time it took me to climb the stairs and back.

"Right, now do it again so that I know it wasn't a fluke," he said as I stepped down from the final step and on to the tiles of the corridor floor.

I'm thinking that I want to punch him in his stupid face at this point, or at least give him a mouthful. I knew he would have loved that though so I said no words, had a look on my face that said no thoughts and moved in a way that made no sound as I climbed the stairs and returned. 

"Right, get your shoes on and get your breakfast," he instructed. The lesson was obviously over.

I did as he said then got a bowl of porridge from the kitchen and went to the staff dinning room. He was sat in his usual place at one end of the table eating his food which by now must have been stone cold. Not that I was bothered. As soon as I walked in he started having another go at me.

"Just so that you are aware, the next time you turn up late for a meal you won't be getting it. I'm not having this girl he cooking meals for people who think they can just show up when they feel like it," he told me in a stern voice.

Well I was fuming now, I think it was only Ms Oliver's intervention that saved him from getting a bowl of porridge on his head. She told him with great authority in her voice to leave it and then glared at me. She can be a hard faced cow too but she has come to my aid a few times. Not particularly on my side but more as a referee. Anyway the good thing is he shuts up and leaves me alone for a while when she speaks. What I mean by that is, he gives me the silent treatment. This can sometimes be as bad as him talking though as there is this huge tension in the air. It's horrible and can last for weeks.