The Caretaker and The Boy

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.” - George Orwell Rolling green hills, wide-open fields, and long roads. A beautiful sight indeed. For Edme, it was perfect coming from the crowded noise of London to the calm peace of Cheshire. The war was finally over and it was time for peace. She closed her eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of the train. She tried her best to calm her nerves. She was breathing better now than a week prior. She thought back to that recent day when she received a response from a woman who answered her advertisement in the paper looking for work. The letter was brief and rather vague. All it provided was a short description of the person needed for the job and an address. Edme didn’t hesitate to go. You might have, but you also may have a family. Although she did have one at one point, Edme was alone. Her parents died when she was quite young. Her father passed away by a car accident when she was only six and her mother? Well, I’m afraid that she died only a month later. Some say of a broken heart, others say she took her own life. I believe in both stories. Are they that different when you think about them? As for brothers or sisters, Edme was an only child. Now twenty-one years old, she lived alone. Out of the orphanage and into a small flat. It wasn’t too big of a change for her. She had a chance at a family, once upon a time. When she was only sixteen, she met a very nice man by the name of William. Quite charming that one was. Curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a smile to cure any illness. But much like years past, death seemed to follow Edme again. When at the age of eighteen, William was taken from this world due to a fatal stab wound in a local pub which he got protecting the honor of his love, leaving her and the baby he had given her behind. Was that how her story was to end? A single mother to live on and tell her child the tales of its heroic father? I suppose not, as fate had other plans for Edme. Never quite getting over the loss of her unborn baby, she was quick to look for any opportunity for adventure. And that is where this story starts, on a soft train ride through the countryside of Cheshire. Edme held onto the letter tightly in one hand and her father’s old pocket watch in the other. It was given to her by the vicar at his funeral. Her mother wanted him to be buried with it as it was his most cherished possession. The vicar, however, who was a good friend of her father’s, told Edme to have it, for he believed she was his most cherished possession. He told her to always keep it close to her heart because that’s where her father would always be. And she did. After her mother’s passing, he told her that her parents loved her and would always be by her side and that one day, she will fulfill her destiny. One that she was born to do. She never forgot those words, and even today was still searching for the purpose this preacher thought she had. She opened her eyes as she could feel the train slowing down. Looking around at the other passengers gathering their things, she became even more anxious than before. The closer they got to stop, the closer she was to her new job. You see, what I forgot to mention before was that in the letter she received, it didn’t only give the job position and address, but a guaranteed hire. One would think somebody would question that, but one would also think more bad luck couldn’t happen to one person in only a quarter of a lifetime. The train was at a full stop now, and Edme waited for the other passengers to exit before getting off herself. When she was the only one left, she gathered her one suitcase and went on her way. After stepping off, she looked both East and West. Deciding to go left, she made her way to the address on the letter. After only three minutes of walking, Edme looked down at her light blue Oxfords and regretted not putting on a more comfortable shoe. Heels weren’t meant for the country. Wellington boots seemed more fitting. The more she walked, the more she saw the clothes of the locals. Much more practical than her Kitty Foyle dress. Ignoring the curious stares, she was getting from them, she adjusted her white Cloche. Checking her watch every so often, she saw that an hour and a half had passed since the train. She almost gave up and thought perhaps she should have gone right instead. Just before turning back around, she saw it. The house on the top of the hill had to be it. No real reason why it just had to be. Something in her told her to continue, and she did. Not the hardest hill to climb but not the easiest when in heels. Huffing and puffing her way up, she dragged her suitcase behind her. Once to the top, she took a moment to compose herself. She may have already gotten the job but there was no harm in wanting to look your best, especially when meeting someone new. She quickly got her breath back and knocked on the door. It was old and had split wood all over it, making it difficult to knock, one might fear of slitting their knuckle open. After a few seconds without an answer, Edme knocked again. She could hear footsteps coming towards her. The old brown door opened to an older woman, looked to maybe to be in her forties. Not the most attractive woman, just between you and me. She had pointy cheekbones that stretched out of her pale skin. Her legs and arms looked like they had just been stripped of all their meat. But her hands, my God her hands! They were cold. That’s the only word for them, cold. Two white pads of nothing but bone and skin with the occasional liver spot here and there. She took one look at Edme and smiled. It was wicked. Red lipstick-stained teeth and her narrow eyes. It wasn’t a real smile, that was obvious. Edme smiled back, nonetheless. Ever the kind soul, she complimented the spooky-looking woman on her hideous brown dress. “You must be Edme? I’m Hilda Burgess.” The woman stuck out her ungodly hand for Edme to shake. The polite young girl did so, as she peeked into the house a bit. “I see you’ve taken a liking to my home already. Please come in and let me show you around and then you can meet Willhard.” Hilda led Edme into the house. “Is Willhard your husband?” she asked. “My son.”