The Caged Pride

Chapter one

George Edward Herriot did not mess around. Not only with regards to his career but also every aspect of his life. This helped him not only move out at a young age but also end up with an internship at the Daily Mirror.

Without Garreth around, George realized that the only person who was truly going to be there for him was only him. It took Helena ten years into her marriage to realize that her husband did not enjoy her company which then led to her joining the church and with the church taking most of the time, George ended up spending most of his time alone in his room.

The only significant contribution made by his father was his big trunk of books which was initially tucked away in a dark corner of the attic, later discovered by George and making it his favorite place in the entire house.

As he grew up he realized how different his parents were from the others. While his parents did not exchange words let alone any sort of affection, his peers had parents who went on dates, balls, and vacations with their significant other.

His mother helped him with his school work with the little time she had left in her hands while his father rarely spent any time at home. The only significant memory he had of his father was him milking his cows while whistling a tune that was not familiar to George.

He remembered the day he received his acceptance letter from the University of Oxford and how his parents had reacted to the news. No Herriot had ever stepped foot outside Mossley let alone gotten into university and needless to say, his father was very proud and happy to see his son make family history. Helena on the other hand was less enthusiastic about all of it since George was after all her son and the only source of love had at the time.

George sat at his desk in his own office at the Daily Mirror in London reminiscing about his days in Mossley and often dreamt of a return, away from the rush of the big city, as he often did when he was in the solitude of his office waiting for the days articles to reach his desk. He was twenty-seven now and the youngest editor in chief the paper had seen till date. His colleagues were not afraid to admit that he was a generational talent that was hard to come by. Joining the Daily Mirror was a no-brainer for George. It was the dream workplace for any top student of journalism from Oxford.

Alfred Zepia was George's only friend in London and also his secretary at the newspaper, better known as Alf to his kith and kin. George was allowed to choose his secretary and in order to find the perfect candidate, he ran interviews. Senior employees of the papers tended to hire women for the position of secretary, but George did not believe in women working outside their household. Helena was partly responsible for this mindset, as she worked so much at church she barely had time for her son. Alf was the natural choice for this position, as he was the only man who applied for the position.

Truth be told, George met Alf the morning before the interview, while he was locking his apartment, ready to leave for a day filled with interviews. He'd had no luck with finding a suitable candidate and looked through applications the entire day, hoping to find a male. He'd almost given up the previous evening and had made up his mind that he would go approve any female candidate with the highest qualification.

He heard someone clearing their throat as his front faced the apartment door and upon turning back he discovered a man no taller than him, in a suit and a pair of glasses.

"Alright", George tipped his hat, "Lookin sharp. I'm George by the way".

"Alfred, you can call me Alf. New here eh? ", they shook hands.

"Oh yeah, I moved in from Hillingdon yesterday. The things I do for this job", sighed George.

"Say, where would that be? Looking for one myself", Alf chuckled nervously.