Love Fit for a Straight Jacket


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3. A Regret in the Making

I knocked on the mahogany door with faint vibrations. The small thuds too small to penetrate the other side of the way; after accumulating a little courage I plunged my fist against the hostile wood, this time I was heard.

“Enter,” my Father ordered, “who is it?” He enquired as he looked up from the crisp, ironed newspaper that he was holding in a manner I cannot imagine is anything but uncomfortable.

“It is I.”

He clocked his head in surprise, as he stated in an unusually tender tone “And what brings you to this neck of the woods?” If I wasn’t mistaken I would say I might have even seen a smile breach his stern face, but that is, as always, lying precariously on the borders of falsehood.

“Yes, I dare say our household does resemble the harsh outdoors.”

“I was making a joke darling, you’re not meant to take it in literal terms...never mind. What was it you needed?”

“Father, I am here to discuss rather unpleasant matters.”

“Unpleasant matters? In what sense?”

“If you’d let me finish I could explain.” I snapped unintentionally, only the whole situation had me on edge.

“I apologise, please continue. Darling.”

“I was by the willow tree, and it appears that Edison has sought company in our very own housemaid, Sally, Sally Thrushel. I regret to inform you that this company is beyond the borders of friendship, and has already escalated to a romance. A romance of which I have witnessed.”

“Behind the willow tree.”

“Yes, behind the willow tree.”

Father sat in his burgundy chair in silence. Then in an almost volcanic eruption he erected from his seat in immense fury, and stampeded straight to his car. He drove to Edison’s mansion. I did not hear the events that occurred in his household until after the damage was too great.

 

 

 

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