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“The important thing about a problem is not its solution, but what we learn through finding that solution”
Laid out in front of me was a huge pile of sliced beef and an uncomfortably large dump of mash potato. A mountain of colourful vegetables including carrots, leeks, spinach and green beans were placed before me. It was as though a soggy firework of crippled vegetables had blown up on my plate. The river of dark brown gravy that had been poured all over the food only made it look damp and soggy.
I really wasn't in the mood for food right now, there were too many things on my mind. My obsessive parents were hardly making me feel better either. Not to my surprise, they were lecturing me on what had happened an hour or so earlier. Thinking back, I couldn't help but let out a groan as I jabbed my fork into the dark brown slab of beef.
It was over an hour ago. I was frustratingly rubbing my head, Alexander O'Leary staring at me with his small, brown eyes. The next time I'd hear the word marriage, I would scream until my lungs gave way.
"Come on, Victoria." He crossed him arms. "You need this, it's obvious you do. I need this."
I sighed heavily as he continued his plead. Did he actually expect me to be excited and eager right now? He hadn't bought me a new puppy, he was asking me to marry him.
“You have ten seconds to leave," I shrugged, "one... two... three... four..."
Muttering something rather rude under his breath, Alexander stood up. As he headed towards my bedroom door, he glanced back at me. "The other guys were right, you're a bitch."
I smiled sarcastically as he slammed the door behind him. That was him gone.
I let out a long, heavy sigh. Alexander had been my father’s latest suggestion for a husband; he had also been the worst so far. He may have been the richest of all the men, but he was the most annoying guy I'd ever met. His hair was a rusted brown colour and he more or less had a small hole instead of a nose.
Alexander was the third man I'd met, and out of all of the three, he was the worst. I glanced at my feet. Why was finding a half decent guy so hard? They were plastered all over the movies, why couldn't I actually meet one in real life?
Returning my mind back to present time, I shoved the memory of my meeting with Alexander out of my head. I hated to admit something so selfish, but I was beginning to feel sorry for myself. Leaning back in my chair, I cut another piece of beef and lifted my fork into my mouth.
“Your mother and I are, quite frankly, offended by the way you’re behaving,” my father began, causing me to look up at him. “You need to find a husband urgently and you know that. I've explained this to you a thousand times. If you marry by the end of November, the estate will be yours, not Joseph's.”
Dropping my fork onto my plate, I glared at my father. “Dad, this isn’t the middle ages! Most girls my age are stressed about going to college, not finding a husband!” My voice raised an octave as the last word left my lips.
My father simply shook his head, ignoring the way I felt completely. Gritting his teeth, he ran his hand through his light hair. He knew that I didn’t want this, and he knew that I wasn’t ready to be married. He was too obsessed with keeping all of his money to care about what I wanted.
Silence took over after that. There was the odd grumble by my father and the sound of clattering cutlery every few minutes, but it certainly didn't make the atmosphere of the room any more comfortable. I hated spending time with my parents because all I ever did was argue with them. With my food more or less untouched, I excused myself from the table as relief spread through my body like a comforting rash.
“Stupid parents,” I mumbled to myself, running up the stairs. “All that they care about is money and their perfect little reputations.” I opened my bedroom door. “I'm seventeen, for Christ's sake! I mean, how barbaric can you get? If they’re that bothered about it then why don’t they just have another kid? There we go, problem so-”
Surprised and slightly confused, I shot my head up. Lying on my bed was a young, light haired boy wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a battered t-shirt. On his feet he wore an equally dirty pair of Converse shoes. He was grinning from ear to ear.
“Who on earth are you?” I stared at him angrily, not moving an inch from my doorway.
The boy simply started to laugh, his eyes glistening with amusement. At first, I thought that he might have been another one of my father’s husband ‘suggestions’ but that thought didn’t last long. I only needed to look at him to realise that wasn’t the case. His clothes looked as though they hadn’t been washed. Ever. His sandy blonde hair was incredibly messy and there was something about his cocky smile that didn't really scream sophistication.
Without giving it another thought, I screamed for Ella, my childhood nanny. I couldn't leave my room; who knew what he could do in there? I'd caught him now and I wasn't letting him go anywhere. There was no way I was going to let some idiot break into my house. There were going to be some serious consequences.
“Whoa! Chill out!” The boy quickly sat up and looked at me, causing me to jump slightly. “I ain’t gonna bloomin’ kill you! Well... as long as I like you, I ain’t.”
Whether he was joking or not, I had no idea, and that thought worried me. I quickly glanced into the hallway behind me. Where was Ella? I kept my feet glued on the same spot, afraid of what the boy might do. My heart was hastily beating, making me want to turn and run.
Mentally kicking myself, I forced myself to stay where I was. Don't be silly, I thought to myself, There must be a reasonable explanation for this. Keeping my eyes on the boy, I screamed for Ella again.
“Seriously Victoria, I’m goin’ deaf ‘ere.” He stood up and headed towards me.
For the third time, I yelled Ella's name. Where in the world was she? Normally, I’d call her and she’d be here within a matter of seconds. I didn't turn away from the boy, not for a millisecond.
Rolling his eyes, he stood a good couple of feet away from where I was standing. Oh God, he was getting closer to me. This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. I was about to make a run for it when the boy opened his mouth again.
“I’m Ollie Poynter,” he said before clicking his tongue. “Well, Oliver technically, but yeah. Just call me Ollie. It's easier.”
My eyes were glued onto his face. He had some weird, perfectly casual grin on it. I'd completely forgotten about running away now; I was too bewildered of the fact that there was some random, scruffy teenage boy in my bedroom talking to me. He was acting as if it was completely normal.
Oliver clearly noticed the confusion and frustration in my face. Unsurprisingly, he began laughing. Again. I gritted my teeth. I could really do with Ella turning up now.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t ‘ere to hurt you. I’m ‘ere to work.” Oliver grinned, his dark green eyes scanning my room. “I know this house is big and all, but seriously? Your room is like the size of my entire flat. Mind you, my flat ain’t that big. It ain’t really small though, I’ve been in smaller ones.” He started laughing. “Right, there’s this one guy who lives in his flat with, like, twenty three cats. His name’s Jeff! How weirdly normal is that? Jeff’s such a common name, but if you think about it, you never actually meet anyone called Jeff. Well, except for the mad cat guy I know...”
I gaped at Oliver, aware of the fact that there was a bizarre expression on my face. What the hell was he on about? Why was he even talking to me? I wasn't afraid anymore. He was acting like a ten year old.
Still talking, Oliver began casually strolling around my room. Although I had no idea who he was, I didn't feel unsafe around him. The only thing I was worried about was his mental health. He had begun to talk about fruit or something as he ran his fingers along the screen of my computer. That was it.
“Ella!” I screamed my head off, “Ella!”
"Victoria? What in God’s name is wrong?” Ella suddenly came rushing into the room.
“Him!” I complained, pointing at Oliver, who’d finally shut up.
Ella then turned to him. Looking back at her, Oliver smiled as a pair of small dimples grew on his cheeks. I swore I was going to kill him.
As Ella turned her attention to Oliver, she shook her head and crossed her arms. Although I couldn’t help but notice her forcing a smile off her face.
“She has some serious anger issues!” Oliver jumped onto my bed. “No wonder no one wants to marry her. She’d probably domestically abuse any guy tha’ gets within five yards of her. It's like call of the banshee around her.”
Ella tried – and failed – not to laugh. Some obnoxious, dirty boy had just insulted me and Ella had laughed...
Noticing my bitter expression, she immediately stopped chuckling. Oliver clearly didn’t care about my feelings though; he continued grinning happily.
“Sorry Victoria,” Ella said before turning to Oliver. “Ollie, I thought I told you not to be so... what’s the word? Enthusiastic? Oh, and get off the bed please.”
“You know him?” I almost yelped.
“You bet!” Oliver said, getting off my bed. He’d left an untidy pile of creases where he had been sitting. “Ella and me are like this.” He crossed his fingers and winked at me.
Completely ignoring Oliver’s comment, all of my thoughts were on Ella. I looked at her, my eyes begging for an explanation.
“I’m friends with his mother,” Ella laughed. “Your parents hired him to be your assistant now that you're looking for a husband. He’s not doing a very good job of it though, so far.”
“Sorry Vic...” Oliver paused as another annoying grin grew on his face. “I mean, Miss Kingston.”
No way was I going to let this weirdo be my “assistant”. Why I needed an assistant in the first place was beyond me. I was perfectly capable of doing things on my own. Knowing my parents, they'd probably just hired him to keep an eye on me, to make sure that I was actually trying to find a decent man.
Taking a mint from the bowl on my bedside cabinet, Oliver threw it into his mouth. At least his breath didn’t smell. Thankfully, the rest of him didn’t either, which actually surprised me. He was dressed like a tramp, after all.
Eventually, I managed to get Oliver out of my room. That was the second boy I'd kicked out today, and the fourth one I'd kicked out within the past two months. By the sound of it though, Oliver was going to come back. Judging by what Ella said, it was impossible for me to encourage my parents that I didn't need an assistant.
I’d known Ella for as long as I could remember. I had only just been born when I first saw her long, ash blonde hair that was always tied into a perfect bun. She never really needed to smile; her deep brown eyes did that for her. Her skin was a lot more sagged now than it used to be, and her voice sometimes shook when she spoke. The creases on her face didn’t symbolise old age to me though - they symbolised wisdom.
Ella had taken care of me of a lot more than my own mother had. It wasn’t that I never saw my mother, I just didn’t spend time with her. She was too busy looking after my father and the house. There were hallways and hallways full of different rooms in it. Expensive paintings hung on the old walls and exotic plants surrounded every corner of the building. It was almost like a grand maze, so keeping it clean took a lot of effort.
I collapsed onto my bed as I gently shut my eyes. There was a cool, refreshing breeze coming from the window. I could hear a few birds chirping outside, momentarily relaxing me until a strong wind blew into my room, flaring my curtains upward. A sharp shiver ran through my body as the gust of wind entered my room. My eyes quickly opened again.
“You can’t keep pushing away every man you meet, Victoria,” a gentle voice spoke.
I raised my eyes to see Ella sitting beside me. She looked far from impressed. Ella and I both knew that she was right, I just didn’t want to admit it.
“Come on, Ella,” I complained, crossing my arms. “Have you seen some of the men my father has found? That Daniel guy who I met a few months ago was almost twice my age! Plus, he was really creepy.”
As I spoke, a sweet smile grew on Ella’s face. She couldn't help but be amused by my comment. Rubbing her hands on her pinafore, she took her shoes off and crossed her legs.
Ella signalled for me to sit up and I did exactly that. Oh, how I despised marriage talk. I anxiously began rubbing my hands. Why couldn’t I just pick a husband? The men my father had shown me hadn’t been that bad. If only things could be simpler.
I dropped my head into my hands. I didn't want any of that, that's why everything felt so compicated. I was seventeen, for God's sake. I didn't want to feel as though I had to find someone to marry within the next year. I didn't want to marry someone because of the fears of my father. I wanted to fall in love.
Ella's small hand was placed gently on my knee. Even though she wasn't really my nanny anymore, Ella truly did feel like a good friend. She was the only one who seemed to be on my side nowadays.
“Look, I know that you’re not too keen on this whole marriage thing,” Ella began, “but you know as well as I do, Victoria, that your family needs this. You marrying a wealthy man within the next year would erase any worries of your parents losing your family’s entire estate.”
I hated it when Ella was right, especially when she made me feel guilty. I didn’t want to get married. I wanted to go out and have fun with friends, break up and make up with lots of guys, go to a college, enjoy the freedom of being a young woman. I wanted to live my life, to be a normal seventeen year old girl. Was that too much to ask?
Since the day I entered the world, I never had a chance of being normal. I didn't have a choice. I was born into the Kingston family; one of the richest families in England. Or at least they were at the time, but times had changed since then. Nobody except for my family knew this, but if things were to carry on as they were, our money would soon run out.
My father had stupidly lied to my mother, telling her that the family business was fine for the past five years. She would often ask him why he hesitated when he brought his wallet out, but he'd respond by mumbling something about her being paranoid. Soon enough, my father's lies ran dry and both my mother and I realised that the family business was, in fact, struggling. After five years, we noticed how bad things really were.
There was one more problem though, a bigger one. Joseph Kingston. Joseph Kingston, as much as I hated to say it, was my cousin. Although he was merely three months older than I, those three months made a huge difference. They were the reason I was not eligible to my family's estate and Joseph was. After my grandfather had died two years ago, the first grandchild to turn eighteen would get absolutely everything. Mine and Joseph’s family had never gotten along and they wanted nothing more than to steal everything we owned.
Lifting my head back out of my palms, I looked back up at Ella. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. The sound of the wind blowing through my window was the only minor distraction. I couldn't look at Ella, not directly. Instead, my eyes were fixated on my Apple Mac computer that was placed on a large, pine desk in the corner of my room.
After sitting silently for a minute or so, Ella finally gave up on receiving a response from me. She gently removed her hand from my knee.
“Just... just try and be more open minded, okay?”
“Okay,” I lied.
Ella was just about to leave my room when she turned around and smiled softly at me. "One more thing," she said, "can you at least try and get along with Ollie? I understand that he can be a bit frustrating to be around sometimes, but he's a really good kid. Trust me on that one, Victoria." She shrugged. "Besides, you might have something in common."
I noticed a slight shimmer in her eyes. It felt as though the words that had come out of her mouth had frozen time for a few seconds. It was as if Ella was trying to tell me something, something she herself was unsure of.
I nodded my head slowly, not even thinking about speaking. The words Ella had just spoken lingered in my head as she quietly closed the door behind her. There was nothing but uncertainty left in the back of my mind.
It has what every teenager lady loves in a book, and it's only the first chapter! Hehehe. 
So try and be more sophisticated, at least in the conversations. i liked the madame use, though. 
Here are the other nit-picks:
So, either you explain it or make them the riches tin some part or province of England. or let it be like this only. Your wish, as I say! 
