Manor of Mischief

Hellen opened their mailbox from the apartment lobby and found a large stack of mail. She already didn’t want to go through it, knowing it was probably either junk or bills that they could barely pay. She slouched up the stairs of the building. why did they live so high?! She thought as a groan left her body. It wasn’t that she was out of shape, she considered herself average for her age but after along hard day of work, well she didn’t feel like her age anymore. Once on their floor and opening the door she felt a wave of relaxation hit her. She wasn’t religious by any means hut there was one thing she considered divine and that was her husbands cooking. Even with some poor ingredients he seemed to always be able to make a masterchef meal for the both of them.

“Welcome home hun!” he chirped towards the opened door. She didn’t know why but his tone and mood always pulled her out of the gutter whenever she felt down. Hellen dropped her work bag on the couch and threw off her shirt and bra while walking towards the bedroom.

Mark had already laid out her sweatpants for her and one of his hoodies. This brought a soft and warm feeling of love to her tired heart. He had this amazing gift of knowing whenever she needed a night of no worries. Ever since they met, the two of them worked incredibly well together. She was more practical and he was more creative and they sure had their fights from time to time but they always worked it out and somehow came out of it better. However recently things were getting rough for both of them. Mark had lost his job due to the restaurant having too many employees and him losing a coin toss to the other person that was at risk of losing their job. She didn’t blame him for losing his job and it was only 2 weeks ago. The main issue was that they didn’t have any savings and could barely get round each month with both of them working. Now she was working over hours to try and compensate.

She sighed and followed her nose back to the kitchen. “As always, you’re here just in time, I was about to get you. Dinners ready.” He said softly before giving her a kiss on her forehead while untying his apron. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet sensation of her homelife and the stress of her job slowly melting away.

They enjoyed dinner and spoke of sweet small nothingness and possible plans for the weekend. After dinner she started doing the dishes while Mark could take a break. Her thoughts drifted to her job again and the possibility of quitting. She wasn’t happy there and it wasn’t going anywhere. She knew however that without it they wouldn’t be able to keep their apartment. Her thoughts turned a dark place only to be brightened by a familiar voice that pulled her attention.

“Hey Hellen, you might want to come here for a second.” His voice was shaking and she knew he was afraid of something. Turning around, leaving the dishes half done, she entered the living room and saw him with a letter in his hands. It was a white envelope with a firms logo in the top right corner. She didn’t recognise it but it seemed Mark did.

“what’s wrong, did something happen?” his face had turned pale and his eyes were wide. This letter had him worried sick and for some reason it was directed at her. He gave her the envelope and she saw it was addressed to her.

“that letter is from a firm that deals with the last wills of people. Honey I think it’s best you sit down.” He stood up to try and move her to the sofa but she seemed to not have put together what was going on. Her eyes slowly moved from the envelope to Mark and back a few times before realising what was going on. Mark felt her lose strength in her legs and guided her to sit down. He knew how hard it was to lose a family member, his own father and mother died in a car accident. He knew that Hellen’s mother had passed away 2 years ago. He was there with Hellen in the hospital when she succumbed to her cancer. Hellen was broken for weeks, she had barely eaten and couldn’t get out of bed. It took him allot of effort to get her back on track. He didn’t know if her father or any other family was alive as neither her or her mother liked talking about family. Hellen’s eyes had started tearing but she took a deep breath and tore open the envelope. In it she found a number of documents and a letter. The letter seemed to be the main item based on the fancy paper it was written on and the delicate penmanship. Her eyes darted from one sentence to another. She lowered the letter for a moment only to reread the entire thing again. She eventually dropped it and the other documents on the coffee table. She folded her hands over her face and fought off the urge to cry. Mark could only watch and hold her tight as he felt her lose that battle.

Hellen eventually calmed down and took hold of the letter again. She held it tight as if holding on to the last lifeline to a loved one. “Its my father...” she croaked. “he died 2 days ago in Malaysia from a heart attack. Apparently he left me something in his will. He is already buried in Yorkshire as was his request. It said that if I wanted to visit his grave or if I wanted the inheritance I should meet up with the firm to finalize the paperwork.” She explained. She sighed as if somehow defeated. Mark felt this was somehow different. He saw sadness in her eyes but there was something else there too, could it be regret? He didn’t want to push her feelings, he knew better than that. She would only lock up more if pressed on it, so he somewhat diverted the topic. “The firm has an office in the city, we could call and make an appointment if you’d like.” His cautious tone pulled her back from her headspace where numerous questions were swimming. Perhaps the answers she was looking for lay with that firm. She nodded and took off to the bedroom, still grasping the letter in her hand.