Second Chances || Thomas McGregor

T H R E E

The luxury liner ride was as long as anyone could imagine but less nerve racking than flying. The sun was setting, licking the horizon and casting the afternoon shadows on the buildings. The stitches were still clean and no unruly infections had crept up so everything was going according to plan.

Getting off the large boat and onto the Portland Harbor docks was truly refreshing. Even though the predominate smell was fish and sea water, it was still something new and exciting. The travelers and merchants and fishermen alike were bustling around the cramped port. Hobbling along with the flow of human traffic, Charlotte found herself close to the road with a few cars lining the walkway.

England sure was different than the United States and she didn't want to make a fool of herself on her first day. Accents filled her ears making it hard to think straight and the cramped space was slowly suffocating the young lady. She tapped the window of one with her left arm trying to balance the crutch underneath. " 'Ello ma'am. May ya want a drive somewhere?"

A young man replied getting out of the car and taking the suitcase from her hands and towards the trunk. His short hazel hair seemed to have a pound of gel lathered onto it. Maybe that is why he smells a little like chemicals. The teen had on a brown over coat and a white undershirt with black pants. The skin on his hands and face were as pale as the moon and freckles skittered about the fair complexion.

"Yes I want to be driven to a London estate. Here's the address." She gave the teen the legal papers for the house hoping he knew where the structure was.

"That'll be in the country. It says here it was bought a few months ago to a Miss... Charlotte Hampsin. Aye! Miss, are you related to Fixgerald Hampsin?" He questioned with a smile gracing his delicate features.

"Yes I am his daughter. Owner of Chalabange in New York, ever heard of it?" Pride swelling in the girl's chest.

"I have a celebrity then, could tell by the accent. Chalabange? Sounds a little to rich for me taste. Your father made th' best food in me life. Opened a store in London before I was born. Loved that places to bits... devastated when it closed. We should get a move on, it will take some time getin' there." And with that Charlotte entered the back seat while the teen started off towards the city. Cars rushed by and people were waltzing about everywhere.

Storefronts in England were truly more elegant than the New York shops. Though New York was fancy and new, old charm was alluring. The ride continued without much delay and London was finally coming into view. The driver asked if she had seen some celebrities while in New York with her retelling stories of at least twenty people. Not wanting to go into much detail, and her uneasiness towards strangers, the car ride was mostly silent. London was much busier than anyone could expect with business people and higher-class citizens bustling about. One store caught the attention of Charlotte.

Harold's Toy Store.

The glass was amazingly clean and the building protruded the sense of superiority. Amazing a child's store would do that; maybe it was just the people that inhabited it that made it give off that feeling. The edge of the city stated to fade, as the buildings became less grand and more open areas opened up. Soon enough there were only trees and hundred acre farms. Cattle lazed around in the afternoon haze, the sky above was cloudy yet the skyline was clear, allowing the view of the three quarter gone sun. It glowed into the clouds pinks and oranges varying in intensity, maybe I should have brought a camera. A few more hours of farmland and by the time they had reached Charlotte's humble house it was dark.

"Well this'll be your stop Miss." The car stopped and both of them stepped out onto the gravely road. The young lad quickly went to the back opening the trunk to retrieve the girl's luggage.

"I'm sorry if I took up too much of your time. It is already dark and I am sure you have to go home... have this little extra as compensation for the long drive" Charlotte said dishing out some money from her bag. She had packed a wallet containing at least fifteen thousand dollars just in case her trip was a long one. Choosing to give the boy two hundred dollars for his trouble she whipped out the bills and rolled them into a tight cylinder cone. "Here is you payment kind sir." The driver took the money and gave a cheery 'Cheers' and drove off.

The house was indeed little and had a nice glass paneled greenhouse. The house was dark and it was hard to find the keyhole for the front milky-white door. Finally finding the small lock, she got the door open and started turning on the lights. The previous owner left her furniture so Charlotte found no need in refurbishing it. Everything had a thin layer of dust. She would need to clean, but the walls were pleasantly covered in nice off white paint.

The couch and living area were craftily put together. The couch was an auburn color made of felt and the rug underneath was fraying slightly and had colorful spiral patterns. The flooring of the house was a type of tile and stone cold to the touch. The covered patio had a few cracked window panels that would need to be looked at tomorrow but should be no problem to replace. Weird considering it was replaced in months prior.

Setting the luggage bag down she proceeded to look over the bed, making sure there were no bugs or any unruly objects hiding in the sheets. The bed sheets smelled dusty and were a light cream color. Odor was a thing Charlotte could never stand. Smelly humans, creatures, sheets, clothes, food, if anything smelled the least bit unpleasant it had to go.

After her inspection of the house she deemed it worthy of her taste and proceeded to turn off the lights. Not bothering to change into her sleepwear, Charlotte slipped under the covers and extinguished the remaining light on her bed stand.

Another adventure.