Chapter Text
The rain was pouring down as I rushed down the street, looking for a place to hide from the british weather. To my luck I see a bright sign in the middle of the dark street.
“Margaret’s B&B.” I read out loud, letting out a sigh in relief as I continue to sprint towards the little cottage.
The place was warm and crowded, yet cozy. People sat around tables, drinking and laughing. A fire crackled in the corner of the room, throwing a warm glow to the small room.
“Hello, dear. Can I help you?” A gentle voice said. I turned around and saw a small lady in her sixties looking at me from behind her round glasses.
“Oh, yes. I was wondering if you’d perhaps have a room available?” I said with a smile. The lady, who must’ve been Margaret, furrowed her light grey eyebrows, creating even more wrinkles in her face than she already had.
“I don’t know, as you can see we’re quite crowded this evening.” she said and pointed to the crowded tables. I nodded slowly as I let out a tired sigh, droplets of water dripping from my blonde hair.
“Okay. Well, thank you.” I flashed her a weak smile. “I guess I better get going.” As I headed for the door I felt someone grip my wrist. I turned around to see the little lady holding it in a gentle grip.
“Oh, dear. I can’t send you back out there.” she shook her head as she scanned me up and down. “You are soaking wet. Let’s see what we can do.” With that said she turned around and walked behind the counter, waving at me to follow her.
We walked behind a red curtain leading to another room. It was even smaller than the lobby/lounge room, with only a single lamp hanging in the ceiling, throwing a weak light to the room. There were crates everywhere, stacked up to the ceiling.
“Follow me.” Margaret said before disappearing behind some stacked crates. Behind the crates there’s a staircase leading up to small attic. The stairs creaked as I walked on them. I was thinking to myself that they would probably break underneath me, but I continued to walk anyways.
“Is this okay?” Margaret asked as she pointed to a small bed propped into the corner of the room. “I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got.”
“Yes, of course.” I walked over to the bed and dropped my luggage of by the foot of it.
“What’s your name, dear?” she asked me while putting some clean towels on the small, brown bureau by the door.
“Grace. Grace Daniels, ma’am.”
“Oh, please, call me Margaret.” she chuckled. I nodded slowly as I removed my wet coat, hanging it over a chair.
“So, Grace, where are you from? I hear you aren’t from here.” The little lady asked with such curiosity in her voice. I looked at her with a weak smile playing on my lips. “If you don’t mind me asking.” she quickly added, afraid that I got offended my her nosiness.
“No, it’s fine.” I chuckle. “I am from Florida, actually.”
“Wow. What is a big city girl, like you, doing in such a small town like this?”
I quickly glance down at my feet, not sure what to answer.
“I, uhm.” I start. “I needed a vacation.” I say and look up at Margaret again. She gives me sympathetic look and nods.
“Well, I am going to leave you alone now. I’ll be down stairs if you need anything.” she said and started walking down the stairs again.
“Okay. Thank you so much for letting me stay here tonight, Margaret.” I call after her. She stopped and peeked her head in again.
“Of course, dear. I couldn’t send you out there again.” she gives me a warm smile. “Welcome to the UK”
Heavy breathing next to my ear. Body pressed onto mine. Wrist held in tight iron grips.
“Please no.” I cried out in pain. My body pressed to the floor.
“Hush, little girl. I’m in charge here.” his voice was deep, stern. Filled with hatred.
I felt him touch me, pressing my face harder down to the floor. Tears were streaming down my face. It hurt. He was hurting me. I tried my best not to make a sound, knowing that it would only make it worse. I heard him moan as he stroke my neck, down to my back. He stopped by my butt, grabbing and slapping it violently. I winced in pain, a tiny whimper escaped my lips.
“I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?” he growled into my ear.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered, helplessly trying to grip onto the floor.
I felt him grip my hair tightly, pulling it backwards. My head was forced up from the floor, yet I couldn’t see. The room was dark, cold. I was lying naked on the floor, with him ontop of me, forcing my body down.
“You’re sorry?” he spat. “I’ll show you sorry.”
“No, please!” I screamed as I shot straight up in the bed. I looked around and realised that I was safe, but my breathing was still heavy. My heart was still pumping. I stroke my messy, sweaty hair from my face and reached for my phone on the floor.
The bright screen shone up as I pressed the button. I squinted at the bright light, having to adjust my eyes before I could see.
“Are you kidding me?” I whispered to myself as I saw that it was only six am. I knew that I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up and started heading for the shower, grabbing a towel and some clean clothes on the way.
The water was warm as it ran down my body. I felt my muscles relaxing as I stroke my hair back. Showers had always been something I love. It was a way to escape the world. A way to relax and to be alone with your thoughts. Everything felt better as soon as I stepped into the shower. I came to realise that my dad couldn’t hurt me anymore. I am safe here. I am on the opposite side of the world, and he doesn’t know I’m here.
Yet I started crying. I somehow knew that no matter how much I ran, no matter how far I ran, I would always have the memories. They were there no matter how hard I tried to force them away, running after me, tormenting me. I sat down and hugged my knees as the water continued to rain over me.
As I got out of the shower and got dressed I heard a knock on my door. I jumped at the sudden noise. “He’s here.” I thought.
I slowly walked to open the door, my hand trembling as I turned the knob.
“Good morning, Grace.” Margaret said with a smile as I opened the door. I let out a sigh in relief, realising how paranoid I had been. “Of course it wasn’t him.”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I made you some tea” she said and held up a tray with a single cup on it. “Only if you want it, of course.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Thanks.” I said and shot her a smile as I took the tray from her hands.
“It’s really no problem at all.” she said and straightened out her purple skirt. She was just about to turn around and go down the stairs again when I stopped her.
“Do you think I could get a job here?” I asked all of a sudden. “Anything will do, really.”
She looked at me for a while before letting out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, Grace.” she said. “I’m afraid we don’t have any jobs available.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. I-I understand.” I stuttered. “Sorry for asking.” I turned around to place the tray on my bed, taking a sip out of my tea.
“If you want, I can help you find a job.” she offered as she noticed how distraught I seemed.
“Would you do that?” I asked, a glimpse of hope sparked inside me.
“Absolutely.” she reassured me. “I have some flyers in the lobby. I’ll go get them for you.”
“Thank you so much.” I said. She smiled sweetly at me before walking down the stairs.
I sat down on the bed and continued sipping my tea. It was incredibly good.
Margaret came back, her hands filled with flyers. She sat down opposite to me and laid down the papers on the bed.
“Okay” she said and clasped her hands together. “What kind of job are you looking for?”
I searched around in the pile, shaking my head.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I chuckled. “Anything except things involving machines and filth.”
“Let’s start looking then.”
After, what felt like hours, of going through different jobs I felt like giving up. I scanned through the, now messy, pile of flyers. Picking up the ones that looked interesting, but threw them away when the job wasn’t appealing, or when the date was from, like, three years ago.
“Are you sure you don’t want to work at the pigs farm?” Margaret asked for the fourth in five minutes. “I’m sure you’d get used to the job.”
“No. I don’t want to slaughter pigs for a living.” I sighed in exhaustion. What would I do if I couldn’t get a job? I couldn’t go back home again. Never again.
Suddenly one flyer in particular caught my eye. I lifted it up to look closer at it. It was a picture of a family of three. A man, his wife, and their little son. “Nanny needed for our son, Brahms” read the headline.
“Look, Margaret.” I said and showed her the flyer. “They’re looking for a nanny. That sounds good, doesn’t it?”
She looked at the paper I held up in front of her. Her smile dropped and the colour from her face disappeared.
“I don’t think you should work there.” Margaret said quietly, looking down at the pile of flyers.
“Why not?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the picture again. It seemed normal. The little boy seemed cute, he had a weak smile on his lips, holding his mummy’s hand. “Is there something wrong with the family?”
“Well, no.” she took a deep breath. “The family is as good as ever. Very generous. They’re great people.”
“Then what is it?” I asked. I leaned closer to her, intrigued by what she was about to tell me.
“It’s nothing.” she shook her head. “Besides, the flyer is old. They probably found one already.”
I pursed my lips as I scanned the flyer again. The date was from less than a year ago. Maybe, with a bit of luck, they could still be looking.
“I think I’m gonna go there anyways. Maybe they’re still looking.” I said to Margaret.
She looked at me and pushed her round glasses up the bride of her nose, sighing.
“Do whatever you want.” she said. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”