The Little Girl
What was wrong with him? Since when had a girl ever gotten under his skin? Shaking his head he shivered a little, but not from the cold. Why had he given her his jacket? He would never hand any girl his jacket, let alone someone he'd just met. So what was different?
Her eyes, there was something about them… they seemed to want to hold his gaze longer….
Cathy… That's not her name, Kat.
It was that prat, Linton. Him and his snobbish remarks, wouldn't he just love to show Linton what he could do to him. What he wouldn't give… his thoughts trailed off as he imagined himself paying Edward back just for being Edward. Worked for his father? … He only tended Wuthering Heights as a favour. He didn't have to, but it had intrigued him ever since that night…. His thought trailed off as he shook his head away from it.
Walking back towards Thrushcross Grange, Cliff once again found himself thinking about his encounter with Kat. She seemed so familiar yet so different. Trying to shake the thought of her from his head he reached the front of Thrushcross Grange and walked right through the front door, up the central staircase and straight down the east wing corridor. Without bothering to knock on the large mahogany door Cliff walked into Mr Earnshaw's office.
As the door made it's usual loud creak to alert the offices inhabitant of an intruder, Mr Earnshaw spoke without lifting his light-brown haired head from what he was writing, "Edward, we've already allowed you to have your…" When he looked up he smiled wryly, "Cliff…" before he continued however he frowned, "Where's your jacket?" Cliff inwardly cursed the man's impeccable memory.
"Gave it to some girl on the moor." He disliked lying to the man who took him in when his parents died, the man was like a father to him. His only flaw was to sire a son who's only goal in life was to have as many girls at any one time that were just as 'prettily' made up as he.
Mr Worthington Charles Earnshaw raised a thick eyebrow inquisitively, his handsome face incredulous, "Cliff, remember when you first came here?" Great, he knew exactly where this was going, sitting down on the chair across from Mr Earnshaw he rolled his dark eyes, "You were 12 exactly, a little city boy who knew nothing of the country… of the moors." Smiling at the memory Mr Earnshaw's blue eyes grew a little misty, his eyes always grew a little misty, Cliff was used to the sight. He had long since learned how to disguise his own feelings beneath a callous mask.
As Charles rambled on Cliff became lost in thought as he remembered his life in London. His parents were always busy, always finding reasons to not be home. He knew they loved him, they never missed a birthday and when they were home they always reminded him that they worked so hard so that he could have the life they never did. Cliff remembered the night he lost them like it was yesterday.
His nanny was watching TV as he sulked about how he was old enough now to not need a nanny, his parents had gone to some business function that both their companies were involved with. He stayed in his room the whole night reading 'Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption' by Stephen King, because he really liked the novel and because he hated his nanny. He had just gotten to his favourite part where Andy nearly gets thrown off a roof when the phone rang. He didn't even bother to look up from his book as he yelled for the nanny to get it. He was still reading when the nanny opened his door without knocking. Looking up, he was about to 'ask' her what she opened his door for when he noticed her expression.
It was the expression of someone who had something terrible to tell you, but didn't really want to. Cliff could recall telling her to "Spit it out already" so she did.
"It was the police. …Your parents… they… were in a car crash. Th-th-their death was… was instantaneous." Her eyes then began to water as she cried for her employers. Cliff however was in a state of perpetual shock.
He didn't cry then, he didn't even cry when they refused to let him see their bodies. Nor did he cry at their funeral, or at the crematorium. In fact he didn't cry until the very first night at Thrushcross Grange.
He had met Mr Earnshaw a week after his parents death, he had come from the "Moorland" as Cliff referred to it. Cliff's first impression of the man was respect for his ability to cry, it was strange the way this big light-haired man, (who Cliff didn't even know) could shed so many tears for a man who he hadn't seen for over 20 years. What surprised him even more was how open he was with Cliff, within that last week after the funeral Charles had taken Cliff under his wing, going out of his way to make sure that Cliff was well and truly ready to leave his home before they departed for Thrushcross Grange.
It was stated in his father's Will that his son be placed in the care of that same Mr Earnshaw should anything happen to both he and his wife. Their fortune was all entrusted in a child inheritance policy that was not to be granted to Cliff until his 21st birthday, the sum of the entire fortune was unknown until Cliff's 16th which was when he was granted a quarter of the money, as stated in the policy.
His first night at Thrushcross Grange, was something he would never forget. He had never been to the country before, despite the fact that his parents had both been born and raised just outside Gimmerton.
What struck him first was the eerie silence, he was used to hearing the sounds of people outside his parents private property, even in the secluded location of their house. Traffic noises could still be heard. His first instinct was to never turn his mp3 player off, when he did however he was hit with the deafening silence as he stood in the foyer waiting for Mr Earnshaw, (or Charles as he had insisted on being called) to rouse his wife and son from their quarters. However it was Edward that came down the central staircase, Mr Earnshaw was still no-where to be seen. It was the first time he met Edward. He was a spoiled child even then, always getting his way. By then Cliff was quite attached to Mr Earnshaw, who was the only person that tried comforting him after his parents deaths. Edward didn't like this and that night he caught Cliff alone and told him that his parents didn't want him there.
"
You're just some charity case nuisance, go back to the city. Go back to wherever it is father 'found' you." Cliff wasn't a very confrontational child and rather then question Edward, he ran out into the rain. Not before punching him in the eye of-course.
All he had with him were the clothes on his back, his cell phone & mp3 player, and the urn that held both his parents' cremated ashes. He did not know where he was going, nor did he care as he ran out onto the moors, the wind howled at him as the rain pelted him forcing him forward. The rain eventually stopped and when it did, he did. It was completely dark, and he did not know where he was. he turned his phone's flash on, but it did little good. Turning abruptly he came face to face with a little pale girl. Cliff had the strangest feeling telling him not to be afraid, instead of running from this eerily pretty little thing he just stared at her. Her dark hair contrasted her pale skin, as her childish face looked at Cliff in defiance,
"I can't find him!" she said her voice sending chills down his spine.
"W-w-who?" Cliff asked, he was unsure of whether he was hallucinating or whether she was real.
"Heathcliff! He told me we should play here… and when I turned he was gone!" her little eyes were dark with anger and he felt the wind pick up as it blew against him, the force causing him to take a step back.
Her white dress whipped around her in a frenzy as she stood with her hands in fists at her side. Cliff began to feel a trickle of fear, but just as he allowed himself to get scared, the wind died down.
Her little face crumpled and she began to whimper softly, "Where is he? Where is he?"
Cliff took a step towards her, his fear evaporated, "Don't cry.. Please?"
Looking up her impish smile returned, a cold pale hand shot out to take a vice like hold on his, "Come with me then, I want to show you something." Her smile revealed nothing, his fear once again began to manifest around the edges. Cliff stood motionless, not moving with her but not resisting. Sensing his unwillingness she frowned, "Don't you want to see?"
When he didn't answer her face once again grew cold, her eyes were changing from an indigo blue to black. Cliff tried to take his arm out of her grasp but he found that he couldn't. He tried to pull again but she would not let go, "You're just like him! You say you're mine and mine only but then you run away!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Cliff was now desperately trying to release himself, "Look let go, and I might be able to help you find him!"
"No! You will take his place…" Her little voice had a tantrum like quality to it, when a moment ago it was sweet. "You!" She screamed and Cliff wrenched his arm away and ran in the opposite direction of her. Reaching out, once he slowed down, he felt a solid brick wall. He felt for the end of it but once he got to the end.. He came face to face with the little girl. All he could remember after that was trying to back away too quickly and the darkness circling in before taking him completely.
"Cliff? Are you alright?" Mr Earnshaw's hand was shaking him by the shoulder, his dark brown eyes concerned, "I didn't know my childhood days with your father were that dreadfully boring." He smiled attempting to pass on the joke but Cliff jumped up.
"What? What happened?" He rubbed his eyes, had he fallen asleep? Judging from the way Mr Earnshaw began to laugh at him it seemed plausible. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.."
"That is exactly why I don't like you wandering the moors at night Cliff. You doze off during the day as a result." However stern his voice sounded, his eyes revealed nothing but mirth.
"About the girl you were talking about…" Cliff noted his serious tone and this in turn made him start laughing. "What? I do not find that funny, we had to get you help after that night. I had hoped it was working…" This made Cliff laugh even more, despite the clenching feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach.
"Charles…" he gasped trying to get out his words, "I was talking about, the Ericcson's daughter. The one you told me about." It was now Charles' turn to laugh… they both continued to laugh until Mrs Elizabeth Anne Earnshaw walked in. She loved Cliff like her own son, but she found it difficult to bond with him like her husband did. Thus coming off as a bit uptight sometimes, "Charles, we must finish setting up for the dinner tonight. You've sent Edward over to deliver the invitation right?" Her blonde hair was tied back in an elegant ponytail, the dark blue hair-tie matching her dark blue cashmere suit. She walked over to Charles and lightly brushed some dust off his shirt-clad shoulder, he smiled at her touch. "Yes dear, he should be there by now. Unless he gets sidetracked."
Satisfied with his answer she turned to Cliff. "Now if you see Edward remind him, seven pm. Please try to be on time dear, this means a lot to me. Will you be bringing Sarah?" Her eyes, were warm despite her rigid posture. He shook his head, Sarah was too clingy asking him for what he couldn't give. Understanding his reply she continued, "Will Edward be bringing someone?" Cliff shrugged. She looked as though she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Settling on, "Ok… Sarah was a nice girl dear. But I shall leave it at that." She knew very well what had happened the last time she tried to interfere in his private business, he'd forgiven her. But she still tread as though on thin ice when around him. He felt kind of bad but she shouldn't have meddled in his affairs. She wasn't his mother. "Ok remember it is a formal gathering, so please dress accordingly. Come now Charles, we must finish the preparation."
With that she walked out, Charles went to follow his wife but stopped mid-stride turning he gave Cliff a meaningful look. "Cliff, please try to get along with Edward tonight. It kills us that you two don't get along at all. Just a quick warning Cliff, there will be Social Workers at the dinner tonight, along with old colleagues of your parents."
Cliff looked up in surprise, "They wanted to see how you were doing, you wouldn't want them thinking you've gone wild since coming here do you?" Cliff smiled remembering his endless walks on the moors alone, which had driven him a bit mad a while back. Noticing the smile, Charles, misunderstanding it, frowned, "Cliff, I know you and Edward aren't the best of friends. But this is really important for Elizabeth. Although she doesn't want to waste her breath telling you boys to behave, I know it's her dearest hope. I hope I'm not wasting mine. For Elizabeth's sake… for mine?" His eyes were pleading and Cliff just hoped that Edward behaved tonight.
"Fine."
Wow that was a long one. Um I hope it makes sense, I wanted it to be a total Wuthering Heights.. (spin off?) But with my own twist…… I really hope that it's not upsetting those Devout WH Die-hard Fans…. Who think it's a stupid idea.
"The next chapter will be the dinner... will Edward behave himself? Will Cliff restrain himself from decking Edward? Will Kat even bother to show up to the dinner?"
Well anyway you know the drill.. If you want more than leave a review and help me out if you think it needs something more.. Or less… But thank you to those that did review the first three chapters! I didn't think this idea would interest anyone, so hope you guys are still reading!
Oh and do look ovr the typos.. Its late and I can't be bothered…. :-) R&R
