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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Job Vacancy - 4. JV Chapter 4

The present was a recent family photo of just Mum, Aiden and Michaela, with a silver frame. It was just perfect and I would treasure it forever. Although I missed spending Christmas with the family, I was kept extra busy on Christmas Day, helping with serving meals to the needy families, and later sitting down with the other volunteers, to our own Christmas celebration, once the families had left.

The following morning, Mr Wright came to my apartment and announced that we will be spending three weeks in Italy, to do research for a new book, which caught me totally by surprise. Once I had recovered from the shock of the announcement, Mr Wright said that we would also be going to London after Italy, then onto Canada for a few weeks and that we would be away for a total of six weeks, from early January to mid-February.

After a gruelling flight to London, then onto Rome and a domestic flight to Pisa, on the west coast of middle Italy, a twenty-minute taxi ride delivered us to the address that Mr Wright had written down, and given to the driver. When we arrived, I could see that we were right on the foreshore, with a small yacht marina close by, the house was one building from the corner of a closed road and the main road, with a stone sea wall about fifty metres out.

“Welcome to our home for the next few weeks,” Mr Wright said as he gathered his luggage and walked through the open garden gate and towards the front door of the building, which has a small front garden and about ten low steps to the front portico. As I followed, I saw that there is a lower level, and the building was cream in colour with green shutters.

A lady opened the door, just as Mr Wright reached it, and she smiled broadly before kissing both of his cheeks and giving him a tight hug. In fairly fluent Italian, Mr Wright said hello to the lady, who I heard is known as Louisa De Toni, before being pulled inside, and reluctantly I followed.

What I hoped to avoid, but received anyway, was a very tight hug from the lady, as she greeted me, when Mr Wright introduced me and explained that my Italian was not as good as his, which made the lady laugh, before saying that by the time we leave, I will be very fluent. The lounge takes up all of the front of the building, while a door leads to a small passageway, that runs along the middle of the house, to the back where the kitchen is, a bathroom and a storeroom.

On the left of the passage, I was told is a study and a small library, while on the right is the dining room. Between this and the kitchen, some stairs lead to the upper floor, as I followed Louisa and Mr Wright upstairs, where we arrived in a central hallway.

Upstairs, there is a passageway along the centre of the house, and at the front, there is a large master bedroom, with a balcony overlooking the ocean, with its bathroom and small private lounge adjoining it. Just behind the stairs, there is an upper lounge area, that covers the whole width of the building, and beyond that is a door in the centre, leading to the second bedroom with its bathroom, and a narrow balcony at the back, that overlooks the backyard.

It wasn’t that big, but it looked very comfortable, as I settled into my room near the back, glad to have my bathroom to use. Mr Wright suggested that I take a short walk around to get familiar with the area before we have a light supper and head to bed to catch up on some sleep.

When I woke in the morning, I was not sure where I was for a moment, but then I remembered and I smiled. It was fairly quiet in the house, all I could hear was the faint humming of a woman’s voice coming from downstairs, and I was pleased that I could not hear any traffic noise at all, just the sound of seagulls in the distance.

Once I had showered and dressed, I headed downstairs for some breakfast, where I found Mr Wright drinking coffee and reading a paper, at a small breakfast table. What caught my attention though was past the kitchen windows, where I saw a beautiful private garden with trees and palms, but there was no balcony to step out onto, as I walked past Louisa, and stared out the window.

“Wow, now I didn’t expect that” I commented, which I thought I said quietly to myself. “That it is my boy, that it is,” Mr Wright responded, “Oh sorry, did I say that out loud,” I said as I blushed a little, which had Louisa and Mr Wright chuckling.

“That is fine, I didn’t show you the rest of the house, as I thought you might be too tired to see any more. You may have noticed as we approached the house, that there is a lower floor.

Through that door, is some stairs that lead to the lower level, where there is a laundry, Louisa’s quarters, and a games and billiards room, which overlooks the garden and the garage, as this house has two street frontage,” Mr Wright explained to me, just as Louisa placed a plated cooked breakfast on the table and indicated for me to sit.

“I have already eaten, I thought you may be hungry, so I asked Louisa to make a cooked breakfast for you, and you have tea, white and no sugar?” Mr Wright added, as I nodded my head and sat down. After a delicious breakfast, I headed downstairs to explore the games & billiards room, where there is a full-sized billiards table, a dartboard on the wall, and a large-screen television and two leather lounge chairs.

For three weeks, I was kept rather busy, taking heaps of photographs of all the places that we visited, which included churches, galleries, cafés marina and we even checked out the famous leaning tower and some of the surrounding countryside.

During this time in Italy, I learnt that Louisa and her husband owned the house for most of their married life, but when the husband died suddenly, she struggled to keep the house, until one day when she met this handsome Australian Man, who was very fluent in Italian, who offered, to buy a 50% share in the house, and to pay for its upkeep, as long as he can stay in the house, anytime that he is in Italy.

Louisa had no children of her own, but she does have some relatives in the far south of Italy, that she hardly speaks with any more, due to some family dispute, which I suspect has something to do with the house on the coast near Pisa, that we had been staying in for the past three weeks.

Sadly the time came when we had to leave, and I had enjoyed my very first time in the country and hoped to return someday, and after saying farewell to Louisa in now fairly fluent Italian, which made me laugh when reminded as we first arrived, and my Italian wasn’t very good, compared to now, we made the twenty-minute taxi ride to the airport, and just over two hours after taking off, we arrived in London.

It was a thirty-minute ride to Riverside in Richmond, which took longer than usual because of heavy traffic, and the cab dropped us off on Friars Lane, where to the right only 50 metres away is the Thames River.

At the cab left, we stood in front of a three-level house, with a small landing to the front door, and on the right was what looked like an odd attachment, painted white, with its separate entry, with a single garage just metres from the front door, and it was this door that Mr Wright headed, and unlocking the front door he walked in and I followed him into the very tiny entryway, with a door in front, that I presumed led to the garage, and the right a spiral staircase.

At the top of the stairs, there are two doorways almost straight in front, and Mr Wright opened the left-hand door, which revealed a small bathroom, and to the left was a large open room, which is like a bedsit apartment bedroom, compact but comfortable, with a large bay window, overlooking the front laneway.

“This is your residence, you will be eating with me next door, but this gives you your privacy, oh and the former garage downstairs is now a lounge room, which is also your space,” Mr Wright announced, and I placed my backpack and suitcase onto the bed.

That is when I realised that Mr Wright had left his luggage outside, and he saw the expression on my face and smiled, as we headed back downstairs, and after checking on the luggage, he opened the door to the garage, which was a comfortable small room, with a kitchenette, to be able to make tea and toast or any other small snack.

Mr Wright handed me the keys to the bedsit apartment and walked out the front door, and I followed him out, closing the front door behind me, before gathering Mr Wright’s luggage, as he opened the door to the large house. “Is that you MR Wright?” a lady’s voice called out.

“Of course, it is Martha, and I have a new administrative assistant with me, who has seen his apartment” Mr Wright replied, before turning to me, as I closed the front door. “Martha is my live-in housekeeper, does a wonderful job of looking after the house and cooking the meals for me and now you as well, leave those there and follow me,” Mr Wright explained before heading down the short wide hallway.

On the left is no doorways, but on the right-hand side, there was a large comfortable lounge room. Large stairs lead up to the upper levels, but on either side of the stairs, a narrower hall leads further back, leading into a large kitchen.

“Hello Martha, wonderful to be home again, may I introduce Mr Davies Q Walker. Davies, this is my housekeeper, Mrs Martha Hill” Mr Wright said making the introductions. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” I said politely, “My, what beautiful manners he has,” Martha responded, and Mr Wright just smiled.

“Sir, if you would like to relax in the drawing room, I will have your luncheon ready in half an hour,” Martha said to us, and I followed Mr Wright out of the kitchen and down the hall to the large room near the front of the house.

What I had not expected, was to see wide windows that are high up, that provide a partial view of the garden above. “A shame about the limited view, Sir,” I commented, as I approached the window for a closer look. “Go ahead, you can go out, there are steps up so you can view the garden since it is a nice day out,” Mr Wright commented.

I did as suggested, and when I reached the top of the stairs, I was blown away by the view of not just the garden, but also the unrestricted view of the Thames River. The garden was very neat, with low hedges around all sides, apart from the space where the side gate is located, and garden beds and a statue in the centre of the garden, with two large garden benches facing the river.

After a quick look around the garden, I headed towards the back of the house, where there is a narrow pathway between the house and the stone boundary wall, following that to the only doorway, which is the back door to the kitchen. “Doing a bit of exploring are you Master Davies?” Martha asked me when I entered.

“Err, yes is that ok?” I asked hesitantly, wondering if I had done the wrong thing, by not asking first, and Martha just smiled, “Yes that is fine young man, apart from that door over there, which leads to my quarters, anywhere else you can go, and don’t be too long as Luncheon will be ready shortly and will be served in there, the formal dining room,” Martha said.

“Thank you, Mrs Hill, I am sure that it won’t take long to explore” I replied, as I entered the dining room, which was quite large, and now explained why there was no doorway from the hallway on this side of the house. Another doorway further forward leads to a small sunroom, with windows looking out to Friar Lane.

Returning to the kitchen, there was no sign of Martha, but the other door, near the door to her quarters, was open, and I looked out and found it to be a roomy courtyard, with a verandah on two sides, surrounded mostly on all sides by the house.

Stepping out onto the verandah, I heard some humming, so I followed the sound to the other end of the verandah, where there is a door open, leading into a laundry, where Martha was working. “Ah, you found me, this verandah is the front of my quarters, but you are fine to go on it to get here, the other verandah is your place, and you are welcome to use the courtyard anytime you wish,” Martha said to me.

I smiled and nodded my head, before exiting and heading to the other verandah, where the door was unlocked, and I entered the bedsit lounge, which I had briefly looked at. Heading back into the house, I checked out the kitchen in more detail, and discovered an elevator in the corner, near the back door.

Near that is another door, that leads into a good-sized library, which has floor-to-ceiling bookcases on 2 walls, and a two-metre high bookcase on the back wall, where there is a high window, allowing some natural sunlight into the room.

Returning to the elevator, I went inside, which I found to have enough room for three people at a squeeze, and looking at the controls, I pressed the button for the 2nd floor. On this level, I found a bedroom, bathroom and what I presumed to be a small storeroom on one side, while on the other side, there is a bedroom suite, with a walk-in robe, and ensuite bathroom, while a doorway towards the front of the house, leads to a huge games & billiards room, that must take up the whole width and at least half the area of the house.

Quickly opening the door to the storeroom, I stopped still, when I saw a steep set of stairs leading upwards, and feeling around I found the light switch and flicked it on, before climbing the stairs. I exited out into a small hallway of what I now know to be the attic, where apart from a very small bathroom, I found just three other rooms, two that are storerooms, and the last one closest to the bathroom, is set up as a single bedroom.

Returning to the 2nd floor, I took the main stairs downwards to the first floor, arriving just as I heard the sound of a gong, so I continued downwards, guessing that it was the signal that lunch was ready.

“Have you seen the whole house yet?” I was asked, as I sat down at the huge dining table, opposite Mr Wright, who sat in the middle of the narrow side of the table. “Almost, I have seen the courtyard, and all of the ground floor, except Mrs Hill’s Quarters, before taking the lift to the second floor, where I discovered the steps to the attic. I was about to check out the first floor when the gong sounded, so I came straight down,” I replied.

“Good, the first floor has the master suite, upper lounge, family bathroom and three bedrooms. After lunch, can you take my luggage up to my suite please, I will unpack it later? You can have the rest of the afternoon off, so you can rest, as we have a few busy days ahead of us” Mr Wright said to me.

“Yes sir, and thank you” I replied. “There is a pub just around the corner, called the White Cross, that I am sure you would like to check out too,” Mrs Hill added, after entering to deliver the meal to us.

After lunch, I put on a jacket, as there was a bit of chill in the slight wind, and I headed outside for a walk along the riverbanks, and I stopped quite sometime later when I reached a huge park, not sure exactly where I was, I didn’t want to get lost, as I had left my mobile back at the house, so I turned around and headed back the way I came.

When I walked into the house, I could hear crying coming from the direction of the kitchen, so I quickly closed the front door and raced down the hallway, where I found Mrs Hill sitting on a stool, crying. “What is it Mrs Hill, why are you crying?” I asked her sounding uncertain about what the matter is.

“It… it is Mr Wright, he has had a stroke, the ambulance has taken him to West Middlesex University Hospital, which is the nearest to here,” Mrs Hill said as she continued to cry. “Ok, grab your coat and keys and let’s grab a cab to the hospital,” I suggested.

Copyright © August 2019 Preston Wigglesworth. All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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😎…...…..I had wondered about Mr. Weight's age and health early on in the story.  Is Davie's set to inherit Mr. Weight's fortune?  (although I'm not expecting his demise soon, I do wonder if he has any family...……...the comment about Louisa's estranged relatives have left a clue that when Louisa pass's on, the estate falls into Mt. Wright's hands and who would Mr. Weight's fortune pass on to?)  I can hardly wait for the next chapter!

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