Fearless • P. Pevensie

The Estate

...there she saw, standing tall and mighty against the golden glow of a setting sun, a fearsome lion. He who had plagued all her dreams for years. He who stood before her calm and stern, truly the king of all he saw. She felt as though she'd known him all her life, and that he was a stranger all the same. She-

"Miss Wilson, I've returned from town." I hear a loud knock on my bedroom door. My head pops up to look at it, and I know that Mrs. Macready is standing just outside of it. "I have a letter from the post, which you'll need to know the details of as well."

I know that she won't bother to come inside of my room. She hadn't before. So, I just listen for her to tell me the news through the wood. It's an older house that the professor keeps. And you can hear everything that goes on inside of it, clear as day.

"I've just received confirmation. The professor's kindness has been lent. We'll be getting four new housemates coming to us shortly. Refugees from the war, whom the professor has reached out to offer asylum to. They're all going to be children, that much I know. Siblings, I'm told. I shall go and fetch them from the train station in two days time. I expect you to be their primary caretaker for the duration of their stay. I don't know how old the children are. I am still to care for the well-being of the entire house, keeping it in proper order for the professor. Therefore, it is going to be your responsibility to tend to the children. This will replace your day-to-day chores, which will be picked up by other members of the staff."

Eight years.

I've lived with this insufferable woman for eight years, and she's still insistent on calling me 'Miss Wilson'.

It's unbelievable, really. Just once, I'd like a "Rosemary." I think I'd fall over dead if she ever called me Rose. It would startle me so much that my heart would simply stop beating.

She's known me my whole life. And yet we remain strangers.

"Of course, Mrs. Macready. Thank you for informing me." I respond. It's in a fairly polite tone, one that I've grown good at donning over the past few years. It's a talent, really. I could be madder than you'd ever seen, and still respond in a sickly-sweet tone. It's easier than facing the punishment for having an attitude with her.

I wait a few extra beats, before hearing her footsteps head down the hallway, and I listen as she descends the stairs.

She never sticks around for too long up here. Unless of course she's cleaning, then she'll tough it out. But the professor usually remains on the lowest floor due to his age, so she primarily focuses on the areas he's in most often. She never comes towards my wing of the floor, though. I'm expected to tidy up after myself. Which, I manage just fine. I rather prefer taking care of things on my own. Knowing Macready, she'd just come in and throw out all of my precious work simply because she felt like doing so.

Children?

Children in the house! Besides myself, of course. Even if they're only just toddlers, I can handle that. It wouldn't be my most favorable of companions, I'll admit. But I'd rather have them than be stuck with what I've got now! A senile old professor who mumbles and rambles to himself, and an uptight 'legal guardian.' Other staff who've been downgraded on account of the war, most of which hardly know I live here.

With a younger kid, maybe six or so, we could play tag! I could sew them new dolls, or teach them to read. I doubt with the war going on they've got much to their names anymore. Not from what I'm told is going on in the city. If they need clothes, I could try and get my way to town and use my slim earnings to help them out. Or if they needed shoes, or if they were sick. Without their parents here, I will have to nurture and care for them. Give them all what little comfort I can offer them, in these trying times.