"On a cob web afternoon,
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
Reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good we'll lay to rest,
Anywhere we want to go."
"Like a Stone" –Audioslave
Chapter Eleven:
Margot received the call that Bruce and Alfred had returned one unpleasant, drizzly Friday morning. She said she'd be there in a half an hour, finishing her mother's breakfast for her before she threw on her boots and a coat and made her way out into the rain.
The ride felt longer than usual, and Margot found herself almost dreading the return to Wayne Manor. She hadn't been back since that day when Mr. Harrison… Well, she hadn't been back. And now she knew she'd see the familiar grounds, except they'd look abandoned and unkempt, and she'd walk past the hedge where she'd found Mr. Harrison, and she wouldn't be able to get him off her mind.
She made her way dutifully up to the front door and found Alfred already there waiting for her.
"Come in," he invited her, stepping aside to let her pass. She let him take her jacket, which he held up with a flat look, watching the water drip from it. "You didn't swim here, did you?"
Margot smiled weakly, grateful for the joke. It lifted her spirits. "No," she retorted.
He smiled in return and beckoned for her to follow him once he'd hung the jacket up. "I'll fetch you a towel," he suggested as he let her into the study.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He nodded and left, returning promptly with a thick white towel, which he tossed to her. She caught it and was surprised to feel that it was warm, as if he'd slipped it into the dryer for a couple of minutes. Gratefully, Margot dried herself off.
"I don't see why you insist on riding that ridiculous motorbike," he noted, indicating that she take a seat.
She laid the towel down on the chair before she sat. "It was my father's," she explained softly, adding with a touch of humor, "Besides, don't you think it makes me look badass?"
The man snorted. "It makes you look like soon-to-be roadkill is what it does."
"Thanks for your concern," she responded with a dry laugh.
His smile faded a little, and he replied, "Well we can't go losing you too, now, can we?"
Margot stared down at her hands and shook her head. "I suppose not."
"How are you?" Alfred asked quietly.
She glanced up and was surprised to see quite a bit of concern on his face.
When she said nothing, he added, "I know it's been difficult to lose Mr. Harrison. He was a good man."
Margot nodded in agreement. "Does this mean you're going to hire a new gardener?"
Alfred sighed, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Actually, Margot, I was thinking of promoting you."
She nearly slid out of her chair. "What?"
He nodded. "If you feel up to it. It would come with a raise, of course, along with the extra responsibilities."
"I—yes," she stuttered. "Yes, I'll do it."
A small smile crossed the man's weary face. "Glad to hear it. I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but…well, they are what they are." He came around and sat on the edge of the chair across from her, holding her gaze with his piercing blue eyes. "You're a good employee, Margot. We're happy to have you here."
She wanted to smile. There had been a time when she would have given almost anything to hear those words from the stern, difficult-to-please man. But right now, her heart sunk heavily into her gut. She didn't deserve that kind of praise. Not anymore. If he knew what she'd done while they were gone, what she'd done for Mooney, what she would continue to do for the woman, no matter her reasons, her good intentions to help her mother… If he knew, she'd probably be fired. Would he be angry?
Or just disappointed?
Wanting anything but to feel his attention on her, she asked, "How is Bruce?"
Alfred shifted a little. "Master Bruce is doing well. He's relieved to be home. As a matter of fact," the man muttered, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, "he brought something back for you, asked me to pass it along." He removed a small parcel from his pocket and held it out to Margot.
She took it hesitantly.
"It's just a little trinket, a small token of appreciation for everything you've done."
"Thank you," she whispered.
He nodded once. His eyes flickered up to the clock in the corner of the room, and he sighed and stood. "Well, I suppose if there's nothing else…" He went to the window and noted, "The grounds are looking a bit neglected."
Margot got slowly to her feet, pocketing the parcel. "Back to work," she replied with a weary smile.
"Shall I lend you a mac?" he inquired, eyeing her damp clothing.
She laughed softly and shook her head. "I'll be fine. I've been through worse."
"Quite the stoic, aren't you?" he noted. "Is there a reason you have some aversion to comfort?"
"Marines take pride in being miserable," she told him with a serious expression.
He sighed and shook his head, muttering, "You'll catch your death." But he didn't protest further as she limped towards the door.
"Thank you, Alfred."
He glanced up at her and nodded.
Margot walked out to the shed, feeling a strange heavy sensation grow in her chest as she approached it. Traces of Mr. Harrison were everywhere: his handwriting on the schedule, his prized shears, a half-eaten apple in the trash bin. He'd never been able to finish an entire apple.
She sighed and reached into her back pocket, removing the small package that Alfred had said was from Bruce. She opened it, pulling a silver bookmark from within. It had been engraved with a quote that she recognized from Beowulf. She smiled sadly as she read it.
Wise sir, do not grieve. It is always better to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning. For every one of us, living in this world means waiting for our end. Let whoever is able win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark.
Margot liked the solitude of gardening, but that day, it felt a little too lonely. She kept catching herself opening her mouth to mention something to Mr. Harrison, tell him a joke she'd heard, ask him what flowers he thought would look good in the front planters. But he wasn't there.
She was relieved to return to the shed that evening, putting everything away with quiet reverence.
"The gardens are already looking better," said a voice from behind, startling her slightly.
"Bruce?" she gasped, whirling around in surprise.
"Forgive me for startling you," said the boy with a small smile as he ducked into the shed.
Margot let out a soft laugh at her own jumpiness. "It's all right." Her brow furrowed, and she added, "I didn't realize you were so stealthy."
The boy's smile widened a little. "I've been practicing. I nearly gave Alfred a heart attack the other day." A laugh escaped him. "I wish you could have seen his face when I jumped from behind the curtains. He scolded me for a good five minutes."
Margot grinned. "I can imagine. Are you glad to be back? How was…?"
"Switzerland," replied Bruce. "Yes, I've been anxious to return for some time now. Alfred and I are going to resume my studies tomorrow." He reached out and curiously traced a finger over the blade of a pair of shears. "That's why I came, actually," he said. "I was going to ask if you still wanted help with your literature class."
"As a matter of fact, we've been studying the Canterbury Tales. I think you'd find them interesting," she told him.
"How so?"
She shrugged. "Well, I think they're entertaining, and I don't even understand half of what's going on. I'd be grateful for the help, if you're willing."
"Of course. I'll speak with Alfred tomorrow."
Margot was still surprised by the boy's capacity for goodness. "Thanks, kid," she said with a grateful smile.
He smiled back at her and nodded. He turned to go, pausing to admit, "I'm glad you're still here. I was afraid you'd leave after what happened."
Margot frowned slightly. "Never, Bruce," she reassured him, adding with a hint of humor, "How would you ever survive without a proper gardener?"
Bruce laughed softly and cast her a look over his shoulder. "Now you sound like Alfred."
Margot laughed as the boy left, knowing he'd meant it as a compliment, but still wondering if that was really a good thing.