The Little Black Book

The year is 1886, a small market town nestled in the North-West of England.

This is the story of a woman named Layla Romand. A young woman. Wishing to change her current life. Her job, status and role in higher society.

Layla had nothing but her farm, her older sibling, and her poor old maternal grandmother. Her sister had already made her way in society, merely forgetting about the life she once had.

Since then, Layla vowed to never forget her grandmother once she has made it in society. One day in the middle of July, she came across something obscure on her way to the market. A little black book on the sidewalk. This was a rare find in the area she lived in. Her first thought was, maybe someone of high society dropped it in a hurry. She went around asking if it belonged to anyone, but all those she asked just stared.

She looked inside - no name and the pages blank.

Nothing but a small message written on the inside - "Whoever has found this book will find their place on the social scale. If you are looking to change your life, you must fill these pages with your life starting from the moment you found this."

Layla started running with the book in one hand and her basket of fresh baked goods in the other with haste. She almost tripped on her way home in a rush to get started. The second Layla got home. She was already flying up the stairs. Taking a quill off the side of the road early that morning. And an inkwell she had made herself and began writing everything from the time she woke up until the time she found this little book.

Layla was about to close the book but found herself flipping to the back. "Maybe there is another message in this book' she said, thinking aloud to herself."

Layla had found herself doing that often. But it's not like she had anything better to do with her life. Of course, since her sister left, she has no other person to speak to. And her grandmother has become hard of hearing nowadays.

She then began flipping the pages, curiosity overriding all other senses. Page after page and as she turned to the very back she saw there was a small message that read "In the middle"

Before going any further, her grandmother came through the door. Her back hunched over, a walking stick in her left hand and her right resting on her back, her long grey locks covering her face as she struggled to look up at her granddaughter. Guiding her grandmother into a chair across from their little table in the kitchen, she prepared supper.

Using the little that they had to try and scrape together enough for the two of them and the freshly baked bread she got from this afternoon, supper was ready.

After she had set the table, sitting opposite to her grandmother. She began eating her supper. Picking at her bread, lost in thought and without realising, she had nothing but crumbs left on her plate. Her grandmother Stella had also finished and had walked to the other end of the room. Now lying down, her back facing the wall.

Now Layla's hair is thick, black and long. She had doe shaped eyes that were dark brown. She is slim and has slightly wider hips than her mother when she was her age. Her grandmother knew of this well. Layla is now 20 years old and is working as a maid in the Duke's Castle.

As night fell, she remained seated on the table, deep in thought. Thinking of what the message might mean. Finally retiring to her bed on the floor, made out of straw. She settled down after completing her writing of the day. As she fell asleep, she went over those words in her head 'in the middle.'

She continued this way for five months. Still, nothing much had changed now in December. The cold it got, the sicker her grandmother became and the food scarce.

It is now Monday the 16th of December, back at the Duke's castle. Layla is hard at work. Dusting, sorting, sweeping, cleaning bathrooms and floors, and the table for the Duke and his mother in preparation for their breakfast.

Amongst the setup, her mind began to drift. Back to the little black book. "Why has nothing changed? There must be something that I missed." She wondered, careful not to speak this aloud. "I must see to this when I go up to the rooms later on this afternoon." She thought once again.

"MISS ROMAND!" shouted Ms Garcia. "Make haste, for the Duke and mother are on their way to the dining hall. There is no time for daydreaming. Bring out the dishes." She snapped.

Layla quickly walked-ran to the kitchen, bringing food out and laying them on the table in the spaces left behind, after laying down the plates and cutlery. Layla hurried back to the kitchen to hear voices coming down the corridor to bring out the remainder of what was left. The doors had just flung open as the Duke and his mother walked in just as she had slipped back into the kitchen as swiftly as she had gone out.

Back at the kitchen, the staff were making conversation about their morning. Cook was talking to Ms Garcia about different dishes she would make for the Duke next week. The rest were all huddled in a group talking about their husbands, children, the weather, flowers etc. But Layla and her best friend Emma was in a corner speaking incoherently about the Duke and his mother.

"Why do they need so much food on the table when they eat so little of it?" Emma ranted on and on. Talking of the Duke and his mother would waste so much food when they did not need it. " They have thrown away enough food that could feed the whole town for an entire year." she continued. But Layla was simply not there. She was deep in thought wondering, what she must have missed.

"Layla?" Emma said in a hushed voice. "Layla?!" she half-whispered and half-shouted pulling, Layla out of her thoughts. "Are you listening?" She questioned. "What are you thinking about?" Emma was now bombarding her with questions.

Realising that her best friend was speaking to her. At that moment, she quickly turned her attention to Emma as if she was not in her own world. Thinking on her feet, she swiftly answered, "how about when breakfast is over we hide some away and take it home. You know food is scarce." Giggling, Layla went back to check on the Duke and his mother.

Back in the dining hall, the Duke was speaking with his mother and what surprised Layla was that he mentioned her name. This must be a mistake Sure, Ricardo was an attractive young man. With his handsome face, tanned skin and hair in a low cut, with his dark brown eyes that looked like they could melt anyone's soul just by looking at them.

Layla! Layla! She heard shouting coming from a distance but couldn't figure out where. Miss Romand? Came a more feminine voice.

Miss Romand?! There it was again but louder this time. Layla stirred slowly, her eyes opened to see faces around the room all looking down at her.

What happened? she asked as she sat up, only to find herself in a bed that wasn't hers.

After regaining her consciousness, Layla took in her surroundings. Her eyes widened when she realised that she was no longer on the kitchen floor. But in the Duke's bedroom.

Her heart and mind began racing, then she realised she was not alone. Every one of the servants in the castle was watching her.

As night fell, she was getting ready to go home when someone was calling her name. A deep voice, her name, rolling off the owner's tongue like chocolate melting in the sun.

"Miss Romand?" "Layla?" When she turned around, she found Mr Ricardo Valdez. The Duke was calling her name emerging from the shadows. "Miss Bennett, how are you feeling? I heard one of my best servant girls had fallen ill in the kitchen. Is your head alright?"

Layla was momentarily taken aback. "My Lord, I am quite alright," she said, not meeting his deep dark eyes. The Duke came closer until they were just two meters apart. He then whispered in her ear, closing the gap between them." I wouldn't want my favourite servant girl to fall ill. Again." He chuckled staring, into her big brown eyes.

After that night, her grandma became extremely ill. Layla stayed by her side all night.

"Grandmama?" "Grandmother, wake up and eat something" Layla shook her again. There was no response. That night she was left alone. Since then, Layla has stayed in the servant rooms of the Duke's castle. Not turning back to the home she once resided to.

Five years had passed by, Layla still writing everything that had happened in the little black book she had found on the floor in summer seven years ago. She was about to become a Lady of higher society.

Suitors were lining up at her door, but only one man was stuck in her head. His face dancing around just like a record stuck on replay. The Duke of Nighting Gale. Ricardo Valdez. The same Duke that she had worked for as a servant girl in his castle.

Something sparked that night. It was something she had never experienced before. "What was that spark?" she thought to herself.

Layla was to attend a ball this evening as she had completed her training as a Lady in Waiting. She had managed to get out of the poor society she once lived in. Thanks to that little black book. The book that had once told her that she'll be able to make all her dreams come true just by writing about her life. Now she was about to become one of the richest women in the country.

The night of the ball had come. Layla had arrived in a grand carriage. The night of the Grand Ball, everything was in the right place. People dancing, chatting and drinking. Women wore the most beautiful gowns with white feathers while others glistened in the lights. It was time for the real fun to begin.

Layla came out of her carriage, walking gracefully down the pathway and onto the patio straight into the ballroom. All eyes turned. The music had seized all the attention was on her. As she entered, every suitor was ready and waiting. The Duke of Nighting Gale was even present. She stepped up to each suitor one by one ever so gracefully till she found her match.

She and the Duke started dancing. Opening the floor for everyone else to follow. After the night of the Grand Ball, Layla had caught the attention of not one but many suitors.

Many of them came from far and wide bring her flowers and expensive gifts, trying to get her hand in marriage. However, only one man caught her eye that night. His scent, his voice and the way he swept her off her feet.

The Duke of Nighting Gale was yet to arrive.

Almost a week had passed since the last suitor had been to catch a glimpse of this fine young lady. It was late afternoon, about 15:30pm Layla was sitting in the drawing-room eating cakes and tea when the doorbell rang. The doors to the drawing-room flung open. Astonished, Layla still mid eating, a cupcake dropped from her hand along with the sudden clutter of a teacup. A cleared throat from the one person she was expecting all this time.

"Marry me," a voice called

"What?"

"Marry me, Layla Romand"

"Ricardo Valdez, I will marry you"