The People of Dewbrook

Chapter Two

Harold Wells was not a man who had a lot of excitement in his life, to say the least. In the early hours of the day, he was wont to read the daily newspapers while drinking coffee in his courtyard and smoking from his pipe, studying the document as though a scientific discovery was contained within it. When the sun shone the brightest and his sister, Rosemary, was still getting ready for the day, in which she would think lots of poetic thoughts, he was walking through the woods that were close to his manor, but not too far away, out of both the fear of getting lost and the fear of missing out on the lunch, which was always delicious and his favourite meal of the day. In the afternoon, after taking a nap that would last for an hour at least and two hours at most, he loved to play golf with other gentlemen, mostly those he had known for years, but if one of them invited a newcomer, he was never opposed to it. Sometimes, he would hunt as well, but the thought of standing in the forest with a gun and patiently waiting to end the lives of rabbits and birds did not enthuse him too much for some reason. In the evening, right after dinner, he listened to others playing the grand piano that was being passed on for generations and sometimes played it himself. After that, he went to sleep, only to continue the cycle the following day. 

That way of living was interspersed only by hearing, not witnessing, the endless scandals Caroline was causing. He knew that rumours were not true for the most part when it came to any situation, but all those rumours had to be based on something, and he could not help but judge that woman for her sins. At the very least, he was relieved to know that she had no reason to come near him and his idyllic life, and he was convinced that it would stay that way forever. Unfortunately for him, his wealth and his mild nature had attracted her to him in a time of need, which he was not aware of. 

On a hot August morning, someone gently knocked on his door, and despite not being familiar with that type of knocking, he never could have suspected that it would be her. It was the reason why his jaw dropped to the floor when he saw her, noticing her long and shiny brown hair contained within a large hat with false red roses, her face filled with a light beige blush that was a perfect fit for her gentle and pale skin, her plump lips emphasised with dark red lipstick, and her dress that reached her heels, with a red collar at the neck and puffy sleeves, its long and wide skirt with differing shades of red and pink drawing attention to her perhaps a bit too thin yet still pretty figure, made more interesting by its wrinkles and golden buttons and area around the chest. Her smile enlarged her fairness, if such a thing was possible, and even caused her to appear innocent and good, at which he raised an eyebrow. He may have seen that smile on her face before, but something was still not right, and he itched to find out what it was.

"Hello, Harold," she said cheerfully, waking him up from his thoughts. "It is a pleasure to see you."

"Thank you, madam," he muttered. "There is one thing that leaves me confused, though. I am incapable of comprehending this peculiar event. You never seemed to have a reason to visit me, which is why I am surprised by this visit. Would you be so kind as to explain this action of yours?"

Her smile widened. "I am more than willing to offer you an explanation, sir. It has been a month since my husband died, which means that my grief has lessened, but my mind does not appear to be completely prepared to return to its former state, and thus I came here to seek the company of those I never would have otherwise, to immerse myself in a new way of living at least for a little while. I believe it would benefit me greatly because everyone has to change some aspects of their life every so often, and I feel that time has come for me again. What have you been doing lately?"

He smiled as well, albeit less convincingly. "Come in, then. If those are your intentions, I am glad to welcome you into my home, and my sister would be even more glad to do so. I heard you delight in reading thoughtful works of prose and poetry, especially as of late, and she has a similar attitude concerning that field. You two could engage yourselves in relevant activities for hours without interruption. I will brew you some chamomile tea and go on a walk, after which I will go to sleep. I would not want to bother two joyful ladies while they are sharing their joy with each other."