One Shots 'The nursery nurse'

Like Father, like Daughter

Autumn's footsteps echoed softly across the gleaming wooden floor of the long corridor. The corridor seemed endless, lined with tall windows through which the early afternoon light fell, painting golden patterns on the walls. Her hand rested protectively on her round belly while her other held the folder. Even after all these years, this place was just a building that had never felt like a home.

She stopped in front of the heavy oak door. Her eyes slid over the nameplate: Roger Knight, Director. Sober, cold, as unapproachable as the man behind it.

She took a deep breath and her shoulders tensed. Just a quick chat, she told herself. Report back to him. Go. That's all. Then she raised her hand, hesitating. A soft, almost unrecognisable knock sounded.

"Come in.", it came muffled, and she pushed down the handle.

The office was large, too large. Dark wood panelling, ceiling-high shelves full of books that probably no one had ever read, and in the middle: the massive mahogany desk behind which her father sat like a king on his throne. Roger Knight didn't look up when she entered. The fountain pen scratched across the paper. The half-full whisky glass stood next to his left hand.

There was a familiar smell in the air. Alcohol, tobacco, paper - the three constants of Autumn's childhood.

"Father." she began matter-of-factly. Her voice sounded calmer than she felt. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going on maternity leave in three weeks."

Now he looked up, slowly, as if he hadn't immediately understood the sentence. His eyes glided over her face, over her stomach. No reaction. No movement in his features. Just a nod, barely noticeable.

"I've organised a replacement. Mia. She knows the drill, she'll take over until I get back."

"Good." he murmured, and his gaze immediately dropped back to the documents.

For a moment, Autumn just stood there. She just wanted to leave again.
But she stepped closer, placing a pile of reports neatly on the table. Her gaze rested on his face. She was looking for something. Anything at all. But there was nothing. Except indifference.

"Well, that's all then." she finally said, curtly. As she turned away, a dull pain shot through her lower back. She breathed out quietly through her nose and instinctively placed a hand on the painful area. In the last few days, Autumn had only realised how much her pregnancy was now bothering her.

"You look just like your mother.",Roger said suddenly.

Autumn stopped abruptly. It was like a blow. A reminder of the woman who had abandoned her and her brother.

His voice was deep, husky, infused with the smoke of decades of cigars. "The way you walk. The way you talk. Even the look in your eyes. It's..." He broke off.

Slowly, she turned around. Her eyes were narrow, watchful, and she scrutinised him as if he had just made a bad joke.

"Really?", she asked quietly. Her voice was calm, but there was something vibrating in it - a pent-up anger that had long been suppressed. "I was always told I was the spitting image of you."

He said nothing. But she saw his jaw muscle move.

"Reece is lucky.", she continued, her voice firmer. "He didn't inherit any of your traits. But me? I've been punished. I don't just bear your name. I bear your face. I'm a Knight - through and through. And I'll never be able to escape that."

"Don't talk nonsense.",Roger growled. "You have no idea what it means to have responsibility. To lead a family. To make sacrifices."

"Sacrifices?", she repeated, and a bitter laugh escaped her throat. "You mean making others suffer for your mistakes? You mean sacrificing feelings, humanity?" She took a step closer.

"Are you sorry, father?",The words came slowly, carefully. "Are you sorry for the way you treated us? The way you treated me? Was it worth it? The indifference? The intrigue? Everything. Because now you have no one? What do you have left?"

Roger leant back. His face showed no emotion. "Every decision I've made has been for the good of the family... Because the legacy is all that remains, even when we're no longer here."

"No.",she interrupted him, "I always wondered what kind of father treats his children like that. But now I know. There's nothing there. You're empty, lonely and pathetic. Your name is worth nothing. If no one speaks of it with pride. You will leave no legacy. No memory. Nothing."

He breathed heavily through his nose, but said nothing.

"I will be judged by my decisions. You... will be forgotten." She turned round. This time without hesitation.

When she opened the door and stepped into the corridor, it was as if she could breathe again. As if she had been holding her breath in his office. She closed her eyes for a moment and placed a hand on her stomach again. A firm kick answered her.

I'll do better than that. I'll never be like him, Autumn swore to herself.

With that, she left the building. This was once her home, but there was nothing to keep her here. And there was no reason to ever return.