Hearing voices, he looked over at the stove. A young woman was standing here, the little suffragette that Sam had briefly met the day before but whose name escaped him, and the cook lost in their own conversation.
He turned back to the sink and rubbed his tired eyes, vowing to try and actually sleep tonight. He would have laughed at the thought, if it wasn’t so problematic for him. Samuel Perkins, sleeping through the night? How absurd. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in over ten years. And something told him he wasn’t about to start.
Movement out of the corner of his eye made Sam turn and watch as a girl descended the steps, dressed in a cream colored dress and an apron. Her eyes swept across the kitchen, and Sam felt he should at least attempt a ‘good morning’ to her, but she quickly busied herself with rummaging through the cupboards, and Sam lost his nerve. A little slip of a girl, pressed against the opposite wall, also caught his eye. To her, he nodded and gave a half heartened smiled. He was quickly discovering that the new servants seemed to be as uncertain about the new job as he was...most of them anyway.
The tumble of apples into the basin sink made Sam jump slightly and he turned to see the French girl holding offering one to him. He took it gratefully.
"That's quite all right," he replied, adding, "Thank you." He paused for a moment, seeming to consider, before taking a bite. Realizing he forgot to introduce himself, he offered his free hand. "Samuel Perkins, the new gardener of Blackford Manor," he introduced, deciding he quite liked the sound of his new title. It was much better than 'Samuel Perkins, ex convict and former drunkard'