Eleanor Close

This is a quick story based on the street that I live down; Eleanor Close. It's speculating how the close was built and why. :)

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1. The Story...

Where there are houses, there used to be an enormous mansion in 1922. There was a wealthy couple who lived there a long time ago, and they were quite influential within society at the time. The man of the house was called William and his wife was called Eleanor.  

They of course had many servants to wait on them hand and foot, however, they weren’t both nasty people, as you might expect. Eleanor was the loveliest, friendliest and kindest person that you could ever come across. But before William met Eleanor he was a most unpleasant person, meeting Eleanor changed all of that, because of the way she was, and William became warm-hearted and courteous.

Throughout their lives together they steadily built up charities and attempted to help anyone that needed it, much to the dismay of the rest of the wealthy society. The wealthy adopted the attitude that the poor were poor because they were lazy and therefore didn’t need help. Even when Williams’ father; John, protested and criticised everything that the young couple were doing, they kept going, helping absolutely anyone.

This went on for three years before Eleanor got pregnant; this made the couple ecstatic with joy, it was all that they’d ever wanted. As the pregnancy drew on, it just made the couple happier; they were still helping everyone and anyone. The day came when Eleanor was rushed into hospital, and after 4 hours of child birth their son was born, unfortunately, 2 hours after the little boy was born, Eleanor fell ill. She died exactly half an hour later.

William was so consumed with grief that he was thrown into his old ways, he became that withdrawn, unpleasant person that he once was and refused to go outside. His son was called Edward, after Eleanor’s father, and he like his mother was a delightful being, even from birth this was evident, he always smiled and laughed. Edward brought his father out of the pit of grief that he had stumbled into and made William smile again.

In order to preserve the memory of his beloved wife, he knocked down the mansion and instead built some houses. He named the close ‘Eleanor Close’ when it was finished and carried on with helping out anyone that needed it. He moved into the house near the very bottom, number 20, which was Eleanor’s favourite number and he lived out the rest of his life, devoting it to his only son.

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