At the End of the Garden

Chapter Three

It wasn't until I woke up the next morning that I remembered I was supposed to go to Eden's the night before. Actually, that was a lie. I remembered the second I got home that night because I had to tell my dad he didn't have to pick me up. I don't know what caused me to forget, going to Eden's after school was natural instinct now. Maybe I wanted to put off Angie's request to ask him about the ghost. He seemed pretty sick of talking about it. Either way, I managed to forget the problem (again) until the next morning. The only problem was I needed the English book I'd left at his for a lesson today. So, the first thing I did when I woke up was text Eden to say I'd come to his to pick it up before school, and another to Angie to say I wouldn't be meeting her that morning.
Dad was the only other person in the house when I got out of bed. My mum would have already left for work since she had to travel into the city. But my Dad offered me breakfast like he did every morning, casually cooking things like pancakes and omelettes knowing he didn't have to leave the house until ten. His job was managing a couple of restaurants that were local to us. His older brother oversaw and had created the whole branch with a little aid from my grandfather. Dad was under my uncle's employment. I don't think this bothered him too much. He didn't even return to work until I started secondary school, and that was only out of boredom. It meant his brother was pay grades above him. But I think he preferred being in the restaurants than in the offices like my uncle, especially as it meant not getting up early to travel like my mum. But she was too proud of her job to worry about distance. My mother, Fay Park Scarlet, had kept her maiden name at marriage. In her business, her name was Fay Park, the one she got from her parents. It was an almost noble name if you happened to be in the right business, or could hire from the highest of high-end law firms. She spoke proudly of her parents that gave it to her. She kept the name that I did not inherit. And she didn't eat breakfast with us.

I ate with my Dad and left slightly earlier than I usually would to get to Eden's house, meaning I didn't have time to straighten my hair and had to stick in a neat bun at the front door. Luckily, it wasn't a long walk, only fifteen minutes so it was kind of unnecessary for Dad to pick me up from there every night. It was also further away from the school than my house, so I hoped I could get a ride with Eden as to not be late.
Eden's front garden had a large gate that felt like it was miles away from the front door. I pressed the intercom on the wall and let it beep for a few seconds. Eventually, the light on the machine flashed to show someone was listening.
"It's me." I said, then instantly felt stupid.
Sometimes, when I said this, Eden or his father would rudely remark that 'they don't know who me is', even though they definitely did. I hoped Eden would skip that today. He hadn't actually answered my text, but I hoped he had at least seen it and was expecting me.
Within seconds, the black gates started to open inward slowly. I slipped through as soon as the gap was big enough and ignored the urge to run through the front garden. The driveway was quite large, big enough for nine or ten cars, and was mostly pebbles and stone with a few plants around the edge. It was quite modern and pretty compared to the inside of the house, but it felt barren and exposing. There was nowhere to hide in it, so I always wanted to run straight to the front door. I didn't, and by the time I made it to the porch the black gates had only just finished opening. The front and porch door had been left open slightly. Eden often did this when I arrived while he was doing something. Half of me thought it was dismissive, but it was a somewhat pleasant reminder that I was past the point of guest-talk and welcomes in this house. I shut both doors behind me and entered the hallway.
   My school shoes clicked across the hard floor as I made my way to the main room. I had to stop another urge to childishly run my fingers over the gold indent patterns on the beige wall. Something I used to do when I was eight, before I got in trouble for touching things with dirty muddy hands. The hallway had entrances to Victor Quinn's office and a guest bathroom, and at the end of it was the dining area. It had a long ebony table with twelve empty chairs around it, usually only seating the two residents and sometimes me. From here, you could go into the kitchen, another corridor that lead to the conservatory, the 'living room', or up the two sets of stairs that were either side of the massive room. Eden was packing his bag at the bottom of the closest staircase.
"Your book." Eden said, looking up for a couple of seconds to check it was me he heard approaching.
"Thanks." I toke it from him.
I stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering if I should ask to go to school with him. It should be implied, really. But I thought it would polite and would perhaps get us to talk. But I spent too long thinking and Eden started a conversation I didn't want to have.
"You went home last night? I waited for you."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I um..." I began speaking, but left it at an apology when I realised I didn't really have an excuse. I didn't want to seem forgetful, even though Eden knew me well enough to expect it.
"You could have text me." Eden said. He continued to sort his bag, paying only half his attention to me.
"We're not allowed phones in school." I reminded him.
Eden flinched, I suppose I caught him off guard. There was no way Eden would break the rules and bring his phone into school (although everyone else did), they were his father's rules.
"It would have given you a leg to stand on." He said, finally finished with his bag and lifting it over his shoulder. He didn't look angry, he never did, he had his usual stoic face that made it hard to believe we were arguing. "Besides, I would have seen it when I got in and wouldn't have had to wonder where you went."
"You never check your messages anyway. You didn't even answer me this morning."
But before I could argue anymore, we both heard the clatter of leather shoes approaching from the corridor. Subconsciously, I pulled my book close to my chest. Eden looked straight up at his father as he approached.
"Good Morning Marie, are you here to bicker or are we going to school today?"
Victor Quinn spoke to me like a student, not the daughter of a family friend. It was the same tone his son often used. There was no emotion in it, but you could detect the threat even if you were deaf.
I turned partially to face him so I could apologise, he was a difficult man to look at. The threat transcended his voice and covered his whole body. Natural for a head teacher. His lion-like stance made him look taller than he really was. And he was already tall. His eyes were the same awful colour as Eden's but he had glasses to cover them that watched you when his pupils weren't.
"Sorry." Eden apologised after me, "you're going in late?"
"I had work to finish." Victor Quinn explained to his son. "I'll be going the same time as you."
The exchange wasn't exactly friendly, nor was it hostile. It was easy to believe Eden was talking to himself in the mirror. It was nothing like the way I spoke to my dad.
"Are you ready? I'm about to get in the car." Victor Quinn had started walking and his son followed after him. Their footsteps were almost in sync.
"Are you coming?" Eden asked, when he realised I hadn't moved.
I followed the pair nervously. That proved the end of the argument.