Back in the Rain

by Elen Chase

  To get started, I began my research on the owner of the villa and his family. His name was Damon Colten, fifty-four years old, minister of health and welfare. He was married to a famous movie director called Julia Nelissen and they had a daughter, Christina, fifteen years old at the time. Their family was one of the richest of Rosedeer. They owned several properties all around the world, and the villa we went to was probably the smallest one they had. Gossip about the family said the wife had countless lovers in the show business, and they were still married just to put on a facade for the public opinion.

  Colten was a tall thin man with short gray hair and black eyes. From the interviews and the speeches he delivered, I figured he didn't have much of a personality. Compared to the young Robinson, who had charisma and was very convincing, this person gave me the impression of being a made up character, repeating a script written by somebody else. The wife and the daughter seemed completely unrelated to any of his activities, and apparently, they were almost never in the same house. After saving the information I found on the family members, I switched to the people working for them. I went on a job-hunting social network and searched for anyone who had been employed as house personnel in any of their properties. I spotted many, and they all had been hired with a short-term contract, usually up to three months. I found such a short period of employment suspicious; offering a seasonal contract was a standard procedure during summer or winter break, in order to have a full staff in the properties outside the City Center, like in a villa in the countryside. However, strangely enough, they hired their personnel for just three months also in the house they normally lived in. Usually, for your main residence you would want to find someone you trust and leave the job to them for many years, as my family did. As soon as I compared their situation with my family’s, I noticed that one of the maids who had worked for the Coltens had the same family name of the lady that was managing the cleaning of my house in Uptown, Mrs. Kruse. I decided to call her to ask if she was related to that girl, and if so, if she could introduce her to me. I hadn't thought that poor Mrs. Kruse was on her day off, but fortunately she not only answered my call, I also found out that the girl was her niece and they were spending the Sunday together with the rest of their family. I invented the excuse that I needed to talk to her because a friend of mine wanted to send a resume to her ex-employer and she wanted advice. The girl was really nice, and accepted to meet me the next day, even if it was still a holiday.

  As I hung up, Lilian answered my message.

  “Hi Andrew, sorry it took me so long to reply. I’m still in shock for what you told me. I can't believe we were right, that your girlfriend was really there in that villa, like Bart. I know this must be very hard for you. Anyway, I agree with you; setting fire to the villa is a strange move on their side. But what if it wasn't one of them? You said the guy with the gun was talking about an old man who was sneaking around. What if it was him? I think it's a good idea to focus on the Coltens; the two things might be related.”

  Right. I hadn't thought the old man could be the one setting fire to the house. I thought that if they knew his identity, and he was still alive, it couldn't be him. Still, that wasn't accurate. Maybe he simply had an alibi.

  "Hey, any news?" asked Chloe as she sat close to me. I briefly showed her what I was doing, and she listened to me carefully.

  "I see. So you can really use your head," she told me with too much surprise for my taste.

  "That's rude. Even though Dan said something like that at first too."

  "Sorry, Drew. You seem a bit dense sometimes, maybe that's why," she said. "I don't know you well enough to judge you, but sometimes it looks like you don't care about the conditions of the people around you," she added. “Yesterday you knew Dan wasn’t feeling well, but you brought him with you to that villa.” Once again, I found her nosy, but I didn’t want to be too immature, so I took the chance to reflect a bit on myself.

  "Uhm… It's hard to admit it, but this is my worst fault. I don't think about people's feelings at all, and I end up hurting them, directly or indirectly. Recently it's happened with Dan, but also with Sara. And they both told me to stop thinking that; that I'm fine the way I am."

  "Probably because they like you and don't care even if you hurt them sometimes. But are you okay with that?"

  "There’s no way I’m okay with that. I can't be always spoiled like this, even if they don’t mind it." I looked at Dan and Sara talking on the other side of the garden. "And you seem to understand a lot about me, even if you said you don't know me enough to judge me."

  "I just like observing people. I was hated a lot at school, so I was often alone and spent my days watching what the other kids were doing. This helped me learn more about myself too. Probably Dan told you, I am a bit of a nymphomaniac. I used to hide it at first and I avoided any contact with others. But looking at them helped me understand that my problem was not the way I was, but people's hypocrisy. They cling on socially acceptable stereotypes to feel ‘right’, but in truth, everybody is hiding their true nature. In high school, I decided to live putting aside all the unwritten rules the others were following. As a result, my classmates were jealous of me, because I was free to do what I wanted, while they were enslaved by what society thought of them. Their bullying almost broke me down at a certain stage."

  "When you met Dan?"

  "Right. He told me ‘You don't have to play their game. Are you gonna become a prostitute just because they said so? Chloe, why don't you go out with me instead? I'll leave you your freedom, if you leave me mine, and they will stop torturing you.’ And it really happened. I’m glad I tried to change, even if I was going the wrong way. I think it's still better than doing nothing."

  "I think I know what you mean."

  "That's why I don't like Sara. You know what I think? That she doesn't have to give up her life, despite being forced to do that job. In her, I see a woman incredibly beautiful and with so much potential, full of regrets like she was ninety, unable to see that she still has enough time to change. I was jealous of her, you know? She’s special to Dan, and they share something, probably because of their past. I thought that if she really tried, her feelings would have reached him in the end. But she never did so. Now that my relationship with Dan is over, she has already given him up to you."

  I was confused by that last sentence, but I decided to let it slide. "I think you two could learn a lot from each other. You're strong Chloe, but you're still in your teens, so you're not mature enough to understand how deep her wounds are. I don't understand it completely myself."

  "Also about Dan?" she asked. I nodded and she said, "He's not the same, you know."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Before he went away, six months ago, he was different. I'm trying to figure out what happened to him, but he keeps rejecting me. I can't help him anymore, Drew. I think you're the only one he would allow to get closer. Look, I'll show you." She opened on her watchpad a folder full of pictures. Then she selected the date of the first Monday of May from two years before. There were beautiful pictures of the sea, and in some of them, a seventeen-year-old Chloe was smiling happily, modeling with a blue short dress. The pictures were wonderful; each one of them was a piece of art.

  "Dan took these," I said, astonished. Those pictures reminded me immediately of his drawings from when we were kids: the atmosphere in them was warm and delicate. She moved to other pictures of those days, this time taken by her. I felt my heart aching when I saw that nineteen year old Dan sitting on the shore smiling while drinking a beer, with shorter hair and many more piercings on his ears. A Dan I didn't know. He didn't seem tired, over stressed or constantly worried like he was now. I scrolled all the photos. Pictures of them together showed me a couple extremely intimate with each other. No wonder they are so close even now. "He had the courage to say it was mostly a sex thing. Liar." I didn't realize I said that out loud.

  Chloe looked at me very surprised. "Well, it was, frankly, especiall
y at first. I'd say what you see here are really the only moments we weren't—"

  "Stop, enough, I don't wanna know. You were barely legal."

  "You talk like my dad," she said, and laughed aloud.

  "Anyway," I added, to change the subject, "I know what you mean now. He looks like another person."

  "Something must have happened when he left. Something bad. You don't know anything about it?"

  "He told me something, but there's much more he's hiding. Do you remember seeing him taking pills before sleeping?"

  "No, never. Does he now?"

  "Yeah." Therefore, whatever happened to him, it was when he left because of his mother’s lover. He said he owned a casino, which could only mean money and trouble. "You still care so much for him."

  "I owe him a big time," she said. "And I've really loved him," she cleared her throat.

  "Do you ever want to get back with him?"

  "No. No woman in the right mind would want to get back with a guy who left her like that." That said, she stood up and went to talk with Sara. I couldn't hear what they said, but it seemed they managed to have a normal conversation for the very first time.

  Chapter 20

  The next morning we gave the keys of the cottage back to the owner, who offered to rent it to us again in the summer at a super discounted price, and we went back to Rosedeer. Dan told me he had recovered completely and that he wanted to come with me to meet Mrs. Kruse's niece, but he was still feeling so weak that he fell asleep as soon as we got home. I decided to let him rest and went out on my own.

  The girl, whose name was Katie, was already waiting for me at the Uptown cafe where we had our appointment. She was small and chubby, and she was really a cute girl, the type who usually passes unnoticed by most. I repeated to her the story about a friend who wanted to send the resume to the Coltens, troubled by the fact that everybody was leaving the job after a short time.

  "I see," she said timidly. "Well, the Coltens are famous for paying very well, so I guess that if she wants to try..."

  "But is there a reason why everybody is leaving so soon?" She seemed troubled by my question. Bingo, I thought. "Maybe they're not nice with the personnel? Do they refuse to renew the contracts for some reason?" I insisted.

  "No, no, they are very nice… They also offer a very good recommendation for your next job when you leave," she added, even more troubled than before.

  "If they're nice and the paycheck is good, I don't understand why nobody asks for their contract to be renewed," I said, smiling and hoping to convince her to tell me the truth.

  "Maybe because… there are rumors about the master."

  "What rumors?"

  "They say he has a drinking habit. Apparently he is very scary when he drinks."

  "Because he gets violent?"

  "No! No, absolutely not. He just screams, they say, but I have never seen him doing anything like that."

  I wasn't going anywhere trying to question her so softly. I decided to be more direct. "Then why did you decide to leave? You don't look like a person so superficial to give up on a job because of maids’ gossip."

  "I had… private reasons for leaving."

  "I promise I won't tell anybody, if that's what you fear." From her expression, I recognized immediately that I had played my part well. "Katie please, I am very worried for my friend. If she was to end up in a bad place… "

  "You don't have to tell even your friend then," she said at that point, clearly tormented.

  "I promise. I'll invent another excuse," I said. She nodded and lowered her voice.

  "You see, when they hire you they explain that the master has many ‘hobbies,’ and sometimes it could be noisy around the house. However, to compensate for that the paycheck would grow a lot. Of course, all that money is to buy your silence. I always knew that rich people sometimes have a strange way to pass the time, so I signed the contract and everything went smoothly for a while. Then one day I was cleaning the first floor and I heard from upstairs a strange noise, like a wooden machine moving. After that, an indefinite cry, that didn't seem human. That scared me, and I ran to the head housemaid. She told me that was what we had to keep hidden. Nobody, not even her, knew what the master really did in that room. Nobody ever entered there; the personnel never clean it. I thought that man could be torturing animals inside that locked room, and I was terrified by that. That’s why I left as soon as my contract expired. I don't know about the others, but it probably was because of something similar. When we left, they promised us references for our next job interview and a lot of money to keep quiet about the master. That's all."

  "I see. Thank you, Katie." A forbidden room. It sort of reminded me of the locked room I found in the villa. Then a detail caught my attention. "You talked about the head housemaid."

  "Yes?"

  "She's been working there for more time than the others, right?"

  "Oh yes, she's one of the main staff. They've worked there for years."

  "Who are they?"

  "The head housemaid I told you of, Claire Wilson, and the butler, Mr. Hutchison, are the most important members of the staff. I was directly under the supervision of Ms. Wilson. "

  "Were they nice?"

  "Oh, yes, Ms. Wilson reminded me of a mum. She is forty-four, very sweet but decisive with all of us, and she was really good at doing her job. Mr. Hutchison has a scary face and doesn’t talk too much, but he’s absolutely a real gentleman."

  "I see. Thank you, Katie, you've been a great help. I'll tell my friend to give up on the job in the end."

  "Please, don't forget, this is a secret."

  "Yes, I promise."

  I left the cafe and took a taxi to my parents' house. Doing my best not to worry them was another of my good resolutions for the future. In the cab, I wrote a message to Dan to let him know I would stop by there and ask him how he was doing.

  Since it was the first Monday of May, my parents were both home, and were blatantly happy to see me.

  "Why didn't you bring Dan with you?" asked my mother. "You could have stayed here for tonight, he can have his old room anytime."

  "Ah, no, Dan wasn't feeling too well today. He had a very high fever two days ago and he's still recovering. I'm going straight home after this to see how he's doing."

  "Home," said Dad, looking at me with an inscrutable expression. He would often do that; it was a professional bias he had. "Drew, I had decided to clean up my studio a bit on my day off, why don't you help me since you're here? It won't take more than half an hour," he asked me then.

  "Ehhh? I haven't been here for a while and as soon as I come visit you put me to work?"

  "Come on, do it for your old man," he said, laughing. I couldn't ignore his request after all the worries they had to go through because of me. We went to his studio on the second floor. I wasn't feeling as uncomfortable as the last time in the house, probably because I wasn't alone. The studio was a rather small room full of things Dad used to bring back from work, mainly presents from the kids. The chaos in it was a lost cause, not even Mrs. Kruse was ever able to undo it, so she just cleaned the floor and left all the things where they were. I almost never went there; it was like an off-limits zone for me.

  "If you want to clean up this place it'll take half a life, not half an hour," I commented when we got in.

  "Ha-ha, let's just throw away a couple of boxes, so your mum won't complain for a while," he said, taking two cardboard boxes from a corner to the center of the room. "Start searching that side of the shelf, and remember: throw away only the really useless stuff," he added.

  "Like this one?" I said, taking in my hands a sort of poop-like clay sculpture.

  "No way, that's the Pollen, the highest mountain of the continent."

  "This is?"

  "That little Carlton made it for me… and look beside it! The postcard! He sent it to me five years later from the Pollen itself! Ah, such good memories."

  "… I see," I said, putting it back where i
t was. I was sure my dad would end up not throwing anything away at all. I wondered if in the room there was also something made by Dan, and my eyes passed by the files on the bookshelf, looking for his name. I couldn't find any, and I felt a bit disappointed. We went on for a while without talking, and the only thing piling up in the boxes was old paperwork. Just like for the files on the bookshelf, my father used to print everything he had to read. He always said he could see things better that way rather than reading on his computer or on the watchpad's hologram. I never understood if it was true or just one of his figurative speeches.

  "So, I see you're doing well in Downtown," he told me.

  "It's just another place."

  "Are you thinking about what you're gonna do from now on?"

  "… Sort of. But if you're asking me about my future in general, I need more time."

  "That's fine; I don't want to stress you. Seeing you happy again is enough for us now. Just, I was wondering, do you have enough money or credits with you? How do you pay for your living expenses?"

  "Well, I have a lot of spare credits from school and old tournaments, so that's not a problem when I come here… while, in Downtown, Dan is usually paying everything for me."

  "What?" he turned toward me with a shocked face, "Drew, that's not good at all. At least find a part time job and pay for your own food and rent."

  "I had never thought about it," I said, looking at several old kids' drawing on the table. Dan made none of them.

  "How can you not think about it?"

  "Dan is always telling me that money is not a problem and stuff." I turned around to look at him and saw an undeniable worry on his face. That's when I realized he didn't know anything about the jobs Dan did there in Downtown for years. Nevertheless, what I said probably made him understand something. "But we’re alright, really," I said, trying to make up for it. "We can take care of ourselves."