The sound of the train passing over the
tracks had been enough for her to fall asleep. But now that she was waking up,
the sound seemed to be louder, much less calming. Anne had decided to visit her
aunt Sylvia once in the spring, as her mother had asked her so many years ago,
way before she had died in that horrible accident with her father. It was a
tragedy the family didn’t discuss openly but that had carved deep scars between
all of them. The deepest one had to do with the Cheever girls, Anne and her
sister Marissa, having to run the business her father had owned. Her aunt and
uncles had wanted that for themselves but her father had been very clear now in
his will.
As
Anne watched the trees pass by her the window beside her, she felt suddenly
annoyed. Even with the shiny sun outside and the beautiful scenery of the
region, she couldn’t forget the reason she was there: her sister Marissa, who
was older and supposedly wiser, had realized running a store such as her
fathers was a very difficult task that needed the hand of a strong man. After
all, the times they lived in weren’t precisely easy for young women like them
and not one or the other had chosen a bachelor yet. The fact that they were
orphans made the deal even harder to achieve, as most parents would be quite
disturbed to have to arrange everything with the bride instead that with her
parents. Traditions were not something people threw away often in that corner
of the world.
Aunt Sylvia had married Octavius Potter, a
businessman who owned a very well known chain of new restaurants called
Norma’s. Those places were supposed to bring the charm of country cuisine into
the big cities and towns of the country and, by whatever rumors Marissa had
been listening to, apparently Potter was hitting the jackpot with such an
invention. People hadn’t heard about anything like that in this side of the
ocean and, naturally, they were all eager to try out something new and exciting
that everyone just wanted to experience. Even Anne had been to a Norma’s
restaurant with Marissa but their experience had left a lot to be desired.
As she contemplated a small town of beautiful
small red houses, Anne remembered the dreadful deserts and sour tea she had
tasted with her sister in that restaurant. And the comments from their friends
who had visited were not much better. Maybe it was that branch in particular
that wasn’t really working up to Mr. Potter’s expectations but Marissa soon
forgot all about that when she heard about the money. It was what they needed.
The small convenience store managed by the Cheevers was going through a very
rough season and, if they couldn’t find a solution, they would have to close
down the store that their father had inherited from their grandpa, who had
established it himself at a very young age. It would be the disgrace of their
name and the final nail in the marriage coffins.
As the train started to hit the brakes, Anne
felt she was sweating. Of course, she was very nervous about seeing her aunt
again. They hadn’t talked since her parent’s funeral and after that not even a
letter had been exchanged. She knew everything was going to be tense and
Marissa had had the stupid idea to make her stay there for a whole week. As she
stood up to grab her suitcase from the upper compartment, Anne realized that
she was there and there was no turning back. She owed it to her parents to try
to make the best sales pitch ever to her aunt and her husband in order for
their lives not to be ruined for good.
However, as she stepped on the platform of the
station, she couldn’t see her aunt Sylvia or Octavius Potter anywhere in the
vicinity. Many people descended along with her, so the platform got very
crowded and she decided it was better to stand outside and wait for them to
arrive there. But nothing happened either. Everyone who had come for a
passenger, or had been a passenger themselves, had already left. There was no
one else there except an old man who appeared to manage schedules and helped
people in need although it wasn’t very clear who would need any help in such a
small station. It had to be said that Mr. Potter, although managing a
successful business, had decided to leave rather away from the spotlight, in a
small town called Caltot. So Anne was not very surprised to not see a single
soul near her for the following hour.
Yes, Anne had to wait for up to an hour in the
shade, trying to keep her hair from curling further and her skin from being
exposed to the damaging sunlight. She was about to lose it when a young man,
about her age, appeared on a bicycle. He stopped in front of her and talked as
if they had been acquainted for quite some time. The truth was that Anne was so
shocked at this behavior that she didn’t even acknowledge what the man was
saying. Out of nowhere, she turned around, grabbed her suitcase from the floor
and entered the station again. She had decided to go back home.
The young man rapidly crossed her path and
talked to her again, slowly and looking straight into her eyes to make sure she
was listening this time. He didn’t grab her, yelled or did anything
inappropriate. He just said he had been sent by Mr. Potter to pick her up at
the station, as they knew she would be arriving momentarily. They apologized
for not being able to pick her up themselves, but apparently everyone was too
busy in their house and couldn’t be bothered to just go to the station and pick
their relative. Anne calmed down and the man waited until she seemed less
furious. Then he suggested she jumped onto the bike and rode with him but that
made Anne even more furious so the boy realized he should stop talking and just
decided to walk back to the house.
As they walked over the narrow streets of the
town, he told Anne he was Mr. Potter’s assistant. He was in charge of getting
everything his boss needed in order to be comfortable in any given day.
Normally, he would only do things related to work but often Mr. Potter had
other demands that had nothing to do with work. Out of nowhere, Anne said that
was appalling. As she lived in the city, she knew how horrible it could be to
work without a proper pay. Granted, she was a woman and there was no real way
she could know anything for a fact, but she assured the young man she wouldn’t
rest until she got a fair pay.
Then she stopped and went all red. Not only
because she talked so candidly to that man but also because she hadn’t been a
proper lady. She did not know her name. He said his name with a big smile on
his face, as he was proud of something he hadn’t chosen for himself. Frederick
March. He was called March by Mr. Potter but everyone else in town called him
Fred. They shook hands, as Anne presented herself to him in a manner that made
him smile even further. She stopped short when she realized she was being
mocked. As headstrong as she was, Anne decided not to talk anymore with Fred,
instead leading him into the town and towards the Potter’s house but that ended
shortly because, of course, she had no idea where to go. Fred was kind enough
not to laugh anymore although Anne felt he smiled behind her back.
Once they arrived at the house, Anne realized
all the rumors were true: the house was enormous and occupied a large portion
of the side of the main square of town. The church was directly across it and
the city hall was just on the side. It was beautifully decorated. So
magnificent were the paintings on the wood on the outside, that Anne had to
step away from the building to appreciate it better. Fred told her that the
house had been restored completely by Mr. Potter, just a couple of months after
him moving here with Anne’s aunt. Fred also said the lady of the house could be
very strong in character but she made her voice be heard and her opinion be
respected.
Anne wanted to know more about Fred’s
perception of her aunt as he said this, because the hard truth was that she
didn’t know anything about her own relative. They had been apart for so long
that the girl even doubted she actually knew what her aunt looked like. Two
seconds afterwards, the front door of the house burst open: her aunt was there,
breathing heavily, her hands and face covered in blood. She was hysterical,
crying and yelling and saying something. Both Fred and Anne ran to help but the
scene they saw through the threshold of the house was enough to freeze them
solid: Octavius Potter had his intestines out and about, leaning against a
piece of furniture.
As Anne tried not to keep watching the
horrible scene, she heard her aunt say: “I didn’t do it!” She sobbed so hard
everyone in town was attracted to the square and, in no time, Anne saw herself
submerged in a mystery she could have never seen coming, or the people of Caltot,
which she would be able to get to know very well in the upcoming days.
