The Redeemed Soul [Dorian Gray]

The Past

Dorian reached a very familiar street and knew that it would lead to his grandfather's house - his house now, he supposed. Ever since they had left the main square, the smile of the young woman was edged into his mind. He wondered if he would see her again because he had to meet her somehow. Maybe he would go back to the main square and find her in one of the shops.

"We're here." Victor informed him, breaking his train of thoughts.

The carriage reached the front side of the mansion and Dorian stood up even before the carriage came to a halt. He was seeing that mansion after a very long time. He didn't even realise that he had stood up till Victor asked him to be careful.

The mansion was dollhouse-like. It seemed as though it was taken right out of a fairy tale because it was beautifully constructed with abalone-coloured bricks. The front door was wooden and above it was a big arched window.

Dorian felt like he was walking into a dream as he went through the front door. That very house had haunted him for many years, but the nightmares didn't happen because of the house. He removed his hat and held it in his hands. Everything felt surreal to him. That feeling changed as soon as he saw the painting over the fireplace, fear spreading through him immediately.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, sir." Victor said from behind, a sincere concern in his voice. He knew the pain of a loss, any loss, having lost his parents at a very young age. "Would you like to have some tea?" He asked, trying to change the topic. He could imagine how hard it must have been for his new master to come back from his schooling to an empty house with no one of his own alive.

"Thank you, Victor." Dorian said and continued to look around the house in awe, trying not to glance at the painting of his grandfather over the fireplace. It was the same eyes that had haunted him as a child and had continued to haunt him no matter how much distance there was between Dorian and his grandfather.

He looked at the living room, the staircase and as his gaze went towards the ceiling, he noticed one of the maids staring at him from the top floor. The news of his arrival to town had indeed spread throughout town and many people were intrigued to meet him.

Back at the main square, Rosemary entered the library and headed for the cabriole underneath the darkness of the first floor of the house which was enlightened by the light coming from the small window nearby.

"Rose?" Diana called out to her.

"Yes, mother?" She answered.

"Did you know that old Kelso's grandson has come to town?"

"Kelso had a grandson?"

Kelso was one of the richest people in town, who was Dorian's grandfather. He had a mansion in the poshest part of town. Rosemary had been over to his house a couple of times over the years, as her father had been a good friend of his.

He was a strict and stern person but he had adored the paintings by the Hallwards. He had even shown interest in helping their library out, although Diana had politely declined. But that didn't stop him from occasionally donating books to them until the news of his passing came to be known by everyone.

"Yes." Diana picked some books up from the reception counter and started stacking them in their respective shelves. "He is supposed to be the same age as you. I want us to be as welcoming to him as possible. No side remarks and no snickers."

Rosemary got up from her seat and helped her. "What kind of a grandson would he be when he didn't even attend his own grandfather's funeral?"

"He must have had his own reasons, Mary. We shouldn't judge people before having met them."

"I apologise, mother." She knew that she shouldn't have been judgmental. Guilt engulfed her as she pursed her lips. She should have kept her thoughts to herself.

"Besides, we don't know what was going on with him when he got the news. Poor boy. He must have been devastated!"

"Why do you say that?" Rosemary asked, curiously.

"He lost his parents in an accident when he was just a few years old. Kelso was his only living relative."

"Oh Lord!" She gasped. "Why didn't he stay with Kelso then?"

"Nobody knows." Diana said as she finished stacking one pile. She moved on to the next one and Rosemary followed. "But your father did tell me that there were rumours that Kelso used to beat up the boy."

"What? I don't believe it."

Kelso might have been a hard person to please but Rosemary couldn't see him being abusive. He was very kind to her and her family and had always invited them over for tea.

"No one knows what the truth is. Only the boy does." She revealed. "And there is no other reason for him leaving town. But I suppose we shouldn't speculate and support the rumours, now should we?" 

"Maybe."

"Agatha has organised an event for the needy the day after tomorrow." She informed.

Agatha was a charitable woman who was Diana's close friend. She had a kind heart and a helpful nature. She loved organising events and had done many where Rosemary and Basil had sold their paintings.

"That's great." Rosemary replied.

"I want you and Basil to accompany me."

"What?" She stopped walking.

"What?" Diana looked confused because she thought that she had made herself clear.

"I have to come." The tone in her voice suggested that she was asking it rather than saying it.

"Of course! Agatha and you are not that different."

Rosemary scoffed. "I don't like organising anything, let alone events." She was a clumsy person by nature while Basil was the complete opposite. 

"But you do like to help the needy." Rosemary looked at her mother. "I have clear eyesight, Mary. I saw what happened outside. You gave away all the change you had."

"Well, they need it more than I do."

Diana smiled and walked towards her daughter. She cupped her face and said, "Your father would be so proud of you."

"Really?" She asked, her face brightening up.

"He used to give away whatever he had in hand as well."

As the mother and daughter started sharing some memories between themselves, Dorian Gray walked up the staircase and felt the cold wood in his hand. He reached the top floor and walked over to the one thing he loved more than his own life - his piano.

He pulled the white sheet from over it and let it fall to the ground. He traced the untouched smooth surface of the piano and opened the fallboard as he sat down. His fingers touched the keyboard and he was lost in the melody that he started playing.

Dorian had grown up listening to piano pieces and coincidentally, he grew up learning how to play them as well. Even after he left London, he didn't stop his learning. He didn't know how much time had passed until Victor brought him tea. 

"That was lovely, sir." Victor praised him as he set the tray down on a nearby table.

"Thank you, Victor."

Dorian felt strange in the big house. He was expecting the loud voice of his grandfather to break the silence at any moment. He wondered if he would miss the sound of the cane would be heard again. But that silence was broken by the news that Victor was going to give him. 

"Sir, Mrs. Agatha Barnes left this for you." He said, handing him a small ivory-coloured envelope.