✔️ shadows of desire | downton abbey

chapter 5

The day off arrived, and Thomas and I decided to visit our parents. The anticipation and uncertainty gnawed at me as we approached the familiar house on Hawthorn Street 53.

"Do you think Pa will recognize us?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of hope and fear.

Thomas shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. "I don't know," he said, "Maybe."

Thomas knocked on the weathered door, the sound echoing in the quiet street. After a few moments, Ma opened the door, her face etched with surprise and suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone far from welcoming.

"Great to see you too, Ma," Thomas retorted sarcastically, pushing past her. The smell of stale air and faint traces of boiled cabbage wafted through the narrow hallway.

He took my coat and tossed it on the pile of worn garments strewn across the floor, a casual disregard for order.

"How's Pa?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Is he getting better?"

Ma laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think the money you're both sending is enough for treatment?" She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. "It's hardly enough to feed the both of us."

Thomas and I exchanged a weary glance. "Well, we're working at least," he said, a defensive edge in his voice. "Can't say the same about you."

Ma's expression hardened, but she didn't argue. "I expect more money."

"Well, expect as much as you want," I snapped. "Thomas and I only earn so much. Now, where's Pa?"

Ma led us to their once-shared bedroom. The air was thick with the scent of medicine and decay. Pa lay in bed, his frail body barely recognizable.

"Oh, my boy," he said weakly as his eyes found Thomas. Then he turned to me, confusion clouding his gaze. "Who are you?"

"I'm your daughter, Eden," I said, my heart aching with each word.

Pa's face twisted in disdain. "I don't have a daughter. Daughters are useless, good-for-nothings. I'd be ashamed to have a daughter."

His words cut deep, each syllable a reminder of my place in his world. I felt a piece of my heart break. I wasn't the pride and joy he wanted, and neither was Thomas. But at least Thomas was the son he had so desperately wished for. I was merely a burden, a mouth to feed.

Thomas stood silently beside me, his hand squeezing my shoulder in a rare gesture of solidarity. We both knew we weren't the children our parents had hoped for, but in this moment, we had each other. And that, I supposed, was enough.

As Pa's hurtful words hung heavy in the air, Ma's sharp tongue lashed out with even greater venom. She regarded me with a disdainful sneer, her voice dripping with scorn.

"Useless as ever, Eden," she scoffed, her eyes cold and calculating. "What good are you? Can't even bring in enough to feed your own parents."

I felt a surge of anger and sadness, but years of enduring her verbal barbs had taught me to steel myself against her cruelty. "We're doing the best we can, Ma," I retorted, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

Ma waved her hand dismissively, her gaze flitting back to Thomas. "At least Thomas has some sense. A son worth something," she muttered under her breath, loud enough for us both to hear.

Thomas tensed beside me, his jaw clenching. "That's enough, Ma," he said firmly, stepping forward to shield me from her verbal onslaught.

But Ma was undeterred, her narcissism fueling her need to belittle. "You're lucky we even let you in here," she continued, her voice rising in pitch. "After all we've done for you, this is how you repay us? Useless girl, just like your father."

I bit my lip, fighting back tears of frustration. No matter how hard I tried, I could never live up to her expectations. Ma's relentless criticism and manipulation had chipped away at my self-esteem for years, leaving behind a hollow ache that even Thomas's support couldn't entirely soothe.

Pa, in his weakened state, lay silent, a mere shadow of the man he once was. His indifference to my presence cut deeper than any insult Ma could hurl. I turned away, my heart heavy with disappointment and resentment.

"We should go, Eden," Thomas said quietly, his voice a rare mix of concern and anger.

I nodded, unable to bear another moment in this suffocating atmosphere. As we walked out the door, I cast one last glance back at Ma and Pa. Despite everything, a small part of me still longed for their love and approval. But I knew deep down that I would never find it here, not in this house filled with bitterness and regret.

Thomas and I left our parents' house, the sting of Ma's words still fresh in my mind. We walked in silence through the quiet streets of our childhood, heading towards the cemetery by Crawley House where our grandpa lay at rest. The air was cool and crisp, the faint scent of autumn leaves mingling with the distant sound of church bells chiming in the distance.

As we approached the cemetery gates, Thomas reached out and took my hand in his, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. The gravestones stood like silent sentinels under the pale moonlight, casting long shadows across the worn paths. We walked along the familiar rows until we reached our grandfather's grave, a simple stone marker adorned with fresh flowers.

Thomas knelt beside the grave, brushing his hand gently over the cool marble. "Hey, Grandpa," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "It's Thomas. And Eden's here too."

I stood beside him, feeling a mix of sorrow and nostalgia wash over me. Grandpa had been the one bright spot in our childhood, a kind and gentle soul who had always believed in us, even when our own parents didn't.

"I wish you could see us now, Grandpa," Thomas continued, his voice breaking slightly. "We're trying, you know? Doing the best we can."

I reached out and placed a hand on Thomas's shoulder, offering what little comfort I could. Grandpa had been our rock, the one who had taught us the value of hard work and perseverance. His absence left a void that neither of us could ever fill.

"I miss you, Grandpa," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I wish you were here."

We stayed by his grave for a while longer, sharing memories and stories of happier times. The night grew colder, the moon casting a silvery glow over the cemetery grounds. Eventually, we knew it was time to leave, but the sense of peace and connection we had felt lingered with us.