Family Secrets

Chapter 12

Pain

Alice Pov

Another gray English day, heavy clouds stacked along the horizon. The next storm is on it's way.

Alice walks down the long gravel drive-way to the mailbox. She flips it open, peers inside. It's full of letters. She takes them out and starts flipping through them quickly. Nothing for her, she feels disappointed.

She flips the mailbox door closed and starts the long walk back to the Manor, when she sees a truck, turning down the driveway and goes straight passed her. She knew it was Malcolm, why didn't he wave or give her a lift back as it started to rain?

Greta Pov

Greta puts the groceries away, mostly canned food. Malcolm is just around the corner, pulling the tupperware containers out of the freezer and putting the frozen food into the garbage bag.

Greta peaks around the corner at him before stuffing yet another can of food in the pantry.

'I was wondering about the freezer.' Greta says loud enough to hear her.

Malcolm laughs. 'Mrs Heelshire orders. Everything gets thrown out every two weeks.'

'So, all that food just gets thrown away?'

Malcolm holds up an empty tupperware container. 'Not all of it. Mr Heelshire eats a few of them. He's always been the less strict one about all of this.'

'You could of warned me, you know.' Greta tells him.

'and ruin the surprise.'

Greta smiles. 'Thanks.',

'So, how are you two getting along?' Malcolm asks out of curiosity.

Greta holds up a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jelly before shoving them into the cupboard.

'Like peanut butter and jelly...' she pauses. Malcolm comes around the corner with his garbage bag of tupperware. '... So, I have to ask...'

'Yes, I am single. Believe it or not.' Malcolm jokes.

Greta gives Malcolm a pointed look.

'You want to know, what's up with the doll?' he asks.

Greta nods her head.

Malcolm takes a deep breath and sits on a stool across from her. 'It's not a happy story I'm afraid. They had a son once... A real Brahms. He died as a child... After Brahms had died, the Heelshires never went out much. Maybe because of the looks they got when they went into town with a doll. It's all harmless, though, this little world they made... A way to cope after loosing a child. '

' How long ago did Brahms... The real Brahms... Die?' greta asked.

'He maybe the same age as us now. Thirty years or so.' he replies.

Greta gasps in shock. 'They've lived like this for thirty years?'

Malcolm nods. 'And they've been looking for a nanny for the last seven. You must be a special lady, Gertrude Evans.'