Everlast

CHAPTER TWO

John held her good arm as he led her up the few steps leading to the grand oak door. It opened as soon they reached the level. Cortina, the aged house maid, saw her mistress in such a state she immediately panicked.

"Oh no! Miss Everlast. What happened to you? Are you injured?"

Monica tried to talk however Cortina's rumbling of questions took over, until she saw the hideous man standing near.

"Cortina this is Mr Clare. He saved my life. Please send Stephan to help Mr Clare with his belongings."

Cortina's mouth gaped wide, a small sound escaping.

"Now really Cortina is this any way to behave towards a man who just saved your mistress's life." She turned to John. "Forgive me Mr Clare."

"No madam you need to be attended to." He nudged Monica forward.

Cortina found her words and was soon running back through the corridor, yelling for Stephan. Dot arrived holding a black medical case in her slender hands. She led Monica up the flight of stairs.

After standing alone, John saw a youth approach him. Stephan was a fair adolescent who was dauntless, until the very moment he met those blazingly yellow eyes.

"Follow me," he said in a high pitched tone, frightened by the tall frame of a deathly man.

John trudged behind the youth, unknowingly leaving muddy footprints along the way. As they reached one of the side doors Stephan fumbled with the right key. Shaking he opened the door and small sized bedroom with a single bed, a wardrobe, a desk and chair greeted the new occupier.

"There's fresh water in the basin."

John turned to the side and polite smiled at the youth, who in turn rushed away. With the door slammed, John took of his dirty coat, placed it on the resting chair and opened his duffle back on the floor, not wanting to smear the upholstery. Realising his hands were dirty he went to the basin and washed the dirt, revealing his pale ugly hands which he loathed, but not as much as he loathed his face when he caught himself in the mirror. After washing his face, he grabbed a nearby cloth and draped it over the mirror. He didn't want a haunting reminder from his creator.

After Monica had washed away the grimy mud, she sat in her pristine white fluffy bed with a thermometer in her mouth. Dr Collins placed his wrinkled hand on her forehead and then examined his pocket watch.

"Nothing to be alarmed about Miss Everlast," said Dr Collins, taking out the thermometer to check the reading. "You only have superficial injuries like severe bruising around your elbow, creating the feeling that you may have broken it. Some swelling has occurred but you have to be carefully not to put pressure of any kind for the next few days, until it is healed."

"So am I to be bed ridden?"

"Not so," he objected. "By all means you can go about your business, but don't lift anything heavy. Please take care."

Monica nodded absentmindedly as Dr Collins gathered his bag. He greated Dot and let himself out. Dot sat beside her mistress.

"Don't worry Miss Everlast. You will get back to your old self again."

"Oh I'm not worried. When I set my eyes on George Castle, he'll have a lot to worry about. You know he did this on purpose."

"You don't mean he would deliberately give you a wild horse, to cause you injury.

"Or worse, get me out of the picture for good." Monica deeply side, closing her eyes for a moment. "It's hard enough already to keep Uncle Lionel's legacy alive and then I have George Castle trying to usurp my position."

"I think he's jealous mistress, if I may be bold to say."

Monica smiled, brushing her hair, the light strands reflecting the colour of the Tuscan sun. She removed the covers, with Dot's help and changed into a navy blue dress with embodied yellow flower pattern.

John buttoned up his shirt, tucking into his trousers when he heard a soft knock at the door.

Clearing his voice he said, "Come in."

Monica stood, refreshed and different from the woman he saved a few hours ago. Her navy blue summer dress contrasted her hazel brown eyes. Her light hair, tied in a low bun allowed some of the front pieces to fall elegant against her sandy complexion, smooth and tawny.

She could see without the dark trench coat that John Clare was a tall man, huge in his build. The paleness of his scarred face was greeted by Monica's warm smile as she closed the door behind her, taking a seat at the desk.

He took his seat; his frame seemed to swallow the bed as he sat on it.

"How are you feeling Miss Everlast?"

"I'll recover," she replied, instinctively touching her elbow. "Dr Collins suggested that I should not put any pressure on it."

"And the horse?"

"Frankly I couldn't care less. It was a poor attempt by my cousin George to try and kill me."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "Why do you think he's trying to kill you?"

"I'll tell you some other day," she said, crossing her legs. "How are you settling in? Are my workers attending to you?"

John slightly frowned, not wanting to disappoint her. "Miss Everlast, I'm grateful that you decided to give me a job but I fear nothing good can come of it. I've lost two jobs, all because of my appearance. The first led to a misunderstanding and the other mocked me entirely."

"And you think that it will be repeated here, because of the way you look?" She stood, ushering him forward. "Follow me Mr Clare."

He obediently followed behind Monica. They left the house, walked down the slope and into one of the many barns on her land. The rustle of hay and hubbub of works fell quiet when they saw their mistress and the new man walk towards them.

"Simon, can you please call Mary and Miguel here."

Simon left his station and sort to find the two workers.

John folded his black lips inwards. "Miss Everlast, I don't understand why I'm here."

"You're not in trouble. I just want to show you something."

He took a double take at the two workers who arrived to greet him. Mary waddled with her bow shaped legs and smiled with a cleft lip. Miguel was short in height that of a ten year old child and his ears stuck out like a woodland elf. John slowly eyed the two workers, not pitying them, but feeling a sense of belonging for they were the ugly and undesirable, just like him. His yellow eyes fell around the audience of workers, some of them, unique in deformities but all possessed something so strong.

"You see Mr Clare; these workers are my family. I didn't care about their appearance. I looked into their hearts, their spirit. And that is what I see in you. You didn't have to save me, you could have ignored my distress and chose to go along your lonely road." She looked at him, smiling. "Do you see Mr Clare?"

Miguel rubbed the palms of his aged hands together before sticking them out to the new man. John bent down a little, hesitant, accepted the greeting. A short gasp escaped him and Miguel smiled a toothless grin, turning to Mary who nodded at the new comer. One by one the workers left their station and properly introduced themselves to John, sceptical at first but as John began to sink into his new role, he realised that maybe, just maybe he could find a way to belong with his new family of outcasts.

Alas only some came to greet John. For those who didn't stayed in the parameters of their work station, growling at the new mountain of a man. They were the ones who were desired, strong and proud. They couldn't posses the heart like the small band of outcasts had. One of these men was Neal, and his cousin Stephan.