A Noble Cause

IX - The Cawleys

Nine: The Cawleys

The Cawley residence did not exactly stand out among other houses in Malmesbury: it was a two-story, stone house with wide, white-framed windows and a dark wood door, much like the ones around it. The one major exception about the house in comparison with the rest, was its vegetation, as it possessed vines that grew on the bottom left side of the house and spread unequally towards the centre and top sections, as well as a well-kept garden in the front. Egbert's doing, Isaac was sure. As far as the structure per se went, it was, by no means, a sloppy place: it seemed to be well taken care of, even from the outside. Other houses, which Isaac had taken notice of during their walk, were in much poorer conditions. One, he remarked, even had a broken window! Not the Cawley's, of course: albeit humble, it did not have a single crack anywhere.

Mr. Cawley went in first. He took his hat off and put it on a coat hanger by the door; Egbert did the same and Isaac would have, too, if he had any. Upon noticing it, Egbert said:

"Right, we forgot. We will go to the hatmaker as soon as we are finished here."

"It's not urgent; we can go another time."

"Coming in?" Mr Cawley asked, as he, who had already entered, noticed Egbert and Isaac were still talking in the lobby.

Isaac smiled and followed after Egbert. Entering the living room, he got to meet three other Cawleys: Mrs Cawley, the matriarch; Arthur, the fourth son of the couple, who had got his hair (dark blond and curly) from his mother; Josephine, Arlene's twin sister; and Lizzy, the youngest of the seven. Lizzy ran to Egbert when she saw him and gave his legs a tight embrace. Egbert smiled and pulled his sister up to give her a kiss on the cheek, which made her giggle.

"Bertie's home," she said, hugging his neck.

Mrs Cawley frowned at the nickname, as she usually did. She thought it so absurd, in fact, that she rose from the rocking chair she had been sitting on with her embroideries to take Lizzy and put her down. Though, mostly, she did it so she could embrace her son.

"Finally back home," she said, smiling.

She turned her head to the side and noticed Isaac standing. She looked at Egbert, then back at him.

"I believe we haven't been introduced," she said.

"Pardon me, Mrs Cawley," Isaac said, taking a step forward, "Isaac Foster. Bright Manor's butler. Delighted to meet you."

"Why, you, too, Mr Foster. Do have a sit, both of you, please; I'll bring some tea and cake."

The fruitcake, Isaac thought, as he felt the taste of it in his mouth. He was not very fond of most cakes out there — not even Laroche's famous trifle, whose recipe had an ingredient she could swear was secret, but everybody knew what it was (the juice of half a lemon). However, there was one cake he did genuinely like: fruitcake. All because it reminded him of rainy afternoons at his grandmother's, whose fruitcake was the best he had ever had.

Mrs. Cawley's was completely different. When she brought it back to the living room, the glazed icing on top immediately caught Isaac's attention; he had never eaten glazed fruitcake. She cut him a slice and, when he tried it, he could not hold back a sound which caused Mrs Cawley to grin.

"I never miss," she said under her breath, as a remark to her baking skills.

"Where is George?" Egbert asked.

"At school, obviously."

"Then why isn't Hugh?"

"Ah, Mrs Sanders's got the flu."

"Again?"

Mrs Cawley raised an eyebrow over the teacup as confusion hit her face. She let out a surprise sound when she realised what had happened.