Elle

The Heavens opened and a beautiful English summer storm gushed down upon the defiant young girls grinning face as she held it aloft.
"Eve Bryant, come in this very instant! The old butler yelled at her from the porch where they had both just been reading.
The girl at least acknowledged his disapproval, though with a wicked smile, before stomping mudholes along the immaculately kept lawn as she danced in and out of his limited sight.
"Youth, not wasted on this one! Jerry muttered to himself as he unsteadily rose from the comfortable straw chair and wobbled slightly to the edge of the spacious porch. He couldn't mask a grin of his own at the child he had watched over for all of her twelve years proceeded to make a complete mess of her pretty Sunday school dress. But he'd let her have her fun, she'd earned it, and he was a firm believer of children having their childness, did she have to have it in white!?
"Come out Jerry, its warm rain! The exited youngster shouted back at him. He would have loved to join her but his old bones would hardly allow him to comply.
"Maybe we should have considered ballet classes for the little terror. Phillip said as he emerged from the dining room and observed his frolicking daughter. "Oh bollocks, not the white one!
"Pardon sir, I was just about to call her in. Jerry started, a little flustered at the unexpected sight of his employer.
"Oh no you weren't. Phillip returned with a mock scolding. "I seem to remember causing the same sort of bother at her age, under your lenient eye.
"There's a lot of your old habits in her Sir. Jerry agreed, gracefully accepting a mug of tea from his former charge. It was a true pleasure for him to be working with the next generation of Bryant's. Having no living relations himself, he had come to the service of Phillip's parents just shy of his thirty fifth birthday. Phillip had been a little younger than Eve then and now, forty years on, it was the energetic boy's own daughter he had to now chase around the big family country house.
Despite the vibrant similarities of their childhoods, Eve and Phillip didn't look much alike. Jerry had met Eve's mother once or twice and now believed it was her who little miss Bryant mostly resembled. Eve's hair was bobbed and blonde where as Phillips was dark brown, what was left of it! They were both slender but Phillip was tall and lanky, although Jerry supposed Eve had a good few years in which to grow yet.
The abrupt halt in the rain pulled the old butler's attention away from his comparisons and he strained his eyes to get a clearer picture of the mess that the young girl had made of the lawn.
"Shall we? Phillip asked as he made his way off the porch to collect his daughter. Jerry followed taking in a final gulp on his tea that would no doubt be cold before he'd get back to it. There was no blue sky break in the dark clouds above and the rain still threatened to return soon. Jerry mopped off a few drips from his near naked skull with his hanky as he hurried to keep up with Phillip, who in turn was sliding about on the disturbed soil trail that led up to the old plum tree at the very back of the garden. Eve was hiding in its branches, he was sure.
"Eve, don't think poor Jerry will be cleaning that dress of yours. Phillip warned as he edged closer, as if expecting some prankish reaction from his daughter. Jerry decided to hang back. Eve had also inherited her fathers penchant for mischief and didn't for a second doubt that she'd have the nerve to display it.
Phillip had just about made it to the trunk of the tree and seemed to be tempting his own fate as he stared up in search of his daughter. A distinct wet thud soon sounded as Phillip immediately withdrew from among the drooping branches, trying to wipe off the stain of what a obviously been a very soft plum. Jerry resisted a giggle until he was sure it wouldn't offend. It was quite something to see a gentleman of some social distinction ridiculed by a deviant child. It seemed now as if Eve would have front the blame for the besmirching of two Sunday bests as she started to pummel her Dad with her abundant ammo. Happily Phillip was quick to retaliate and Jerry found himself having to move out of range as the fruitful exchange intensified. Eve dropped from the tree as Phillip started to get the better of her and she shrieked excitedly, her arms flailing wildly trying to shield herself as he gave chase back down the garden. The old butler stared on in amusement as Father and daughter ran rings around him and the rest of the delicately laid garden, trouncing flowers and shrubs alike in their boisterous wake. Finally his employer fell before her, landing heavily on his chest. For a brief moment Jerry was concerned. Phillip had always been active but the asthma that had thwarted his sports participation as a child had never left him. Jerry started to make his way over as Eve stood triumphant over her victim.
"Are you all right Sir? Jerry called out, a little out of breath himself as he hurried to the fallen man's side. Phillip had already made it to his knees but was rubbing at his mud stained shirt.
"Yes thank you Jerry, no thanks to our little terror! he exclaimed snarling playfully at his beaming daughter.
"But I was very good in church! Eve returned in earnest, as if one cancelled out the other.
"Yes but must you play in your white dress Eveie? "Phillip continued with his pet name for her, "Look at the state of it.
"Okay, but it's a babies dress. Eve replied admonishing the now nearly brown garment.
"You're still a baby to me Eveie. The child grinned again and looked as honestly as she good into Jerry's eyes.
"I promise to clean it all up Jerry.
The butler wondered if anyone, ever, could be harsh with such a delightful burden. "No problem, Miss Eve, he said and turned back to Phillip who painfully made it to his feet. "Perhaps you should cancel your one o'clock Sir?
"No no, Phillip waved him off, "Really I'm fine. Jerry watched over him still concerned as he walked slowly back into the house. Eve also had slowed her chaotic pace.
"Did I hurt daddy? she asked anxiously.
"Of course not dear. He's jut not as young as you anymore. You may have to be a little gentler next time.
"Is it because of his asthma?
It always surprised him how astute she was for her tender years and there was no good in lying to her. "Yes but you needn't worry about that. You're Father knows he just has to take things easier.
"Will I someday?
It pained him that he'd have to watch Eve suffer for her energetic instincts, just as Phillip had. In fact he was never around her without her own inhaler. "Well I think all that mud on your dress will slow you more than anything.
Eve smiled again and grasped one of his old hands, pulling him back to the porch.
"Did my mummy have asthma as well? she asked as she handed him back his mug of tea. It had been a long while since she'd asked about her mother. Even longer since her mother had enquired about her. But there would always be questions, questions that he would also never lie to.
"I really don't know, Miss Eve. Not that I know of. Eve seemed to ponder on his words as she rotated her muddy shoe on the wooden floor of the porch.
"Why don't I ever see her Jerry?
The old man took a long sip at the cold tea, which was only worth it so as to think of a response that was in the child's interests. "You're mother has a¦ different life to us Miss Eve. She has her own life, we have ours.
"Genny at school says the only parents who leave are daddies.
"That's not true Eve. My own Father raised me alone after my mother died. The girl seemed to chew on that for a moment, perhaps not realising that he was trying to stall her but Jerry could see the child working out a response that would not offend him but keep her line of questioning to the point.
"But my mum is still alive, isn't she Jerry?
"Very much so Miss Eve. Its just that she realised that she wouldn't be able to take care of you as well as your father. Eve bowed her head and Jerry wanted her lively side back as soon as possible. "It was only that she wanted what's best for you Eve. The girl started to look around her, not focusing on anything in particular but is if she was trying to evade the concerns in her head. After a few seconds she clasped a pair of determined bright blue eyes upon him.
"Jerry, was my mum a whore?
"Eve Bryant that's a bad word! Jerry bellowed, making her flinch, but his raised voice was more out of surprise then out of any condemnation of her. To her credit, the girl didn't back down.
"I'm sorry, but is there a nicer word for it?
The butler tried to stare her down but not to harshly, she was hardly trying to be rebellious. "Who told you that? He demanded.
Eve swallowed, "Nobody.
"Eve?
"I heard Franchesca last week. She told someone on the phone mummy was a¦
"You can say prostitute. Jerry cut in. "Do you know what that means?
Eve looked down at her shoes, "No Jerry.
"Do you want to know? He thought it fair to give her the choice.
"I don't know.
He didn't usually have to pity her. Mostly she was as happy as she was earlier in the garden. Every so often she would have her quiet times but even then she only looked thoughtful. Perhaps she was always thinking of her mother.
"Maybe you'd like to talk about it when you're not so scruffy. Jerry joked, finally raising the girls head again and she smiled sweetly back.
"Thanks Jerry!
"Okay, now go and get changed will you? He watched as she skipped on into the house her feet reverberating off the great polished floor of the hallway. "And put your dirty clothes into the machine! he hollered after her.

Jerry emptied the cold tea into the gleaming silver sink and felt his back creak as he reached down to open the dishwasher. So Franchesca had opened her big mouth again. In front of Eve. Jerry really didn't expect anything less of Phillips younger sister. She had never attempted to play the dotting aunt. In fact he knew that she was quite appalled by Eve's very existence. She had quickly sided with her late parents when they tried to pressure Phillip into demanding Eve's mother have a termination. It had been the one time he'd actively encouraged Phillip to go against his parents wishes and anyway it turned out that he was only really supporting the young man. Jerry had been wrong to ever doubt his Phillips morality, as if being cut out of his parents estate would make the slightest difference to his decision to support his pregnant and 'purchased' lover. Phillip had stuck to his guns and eventually his parents had caved in and accepted their new granddaughter. But not Franchesca. Jerry was loathe to admit it but she had always been a spiteful child. Constantly holing her Father especially, to ransom. Old Jim had flustered around her from the day she'd been born. Jerry supposed the deeply old fashioned gent saw her as someone in endless need of protection. Maybe that had twisted her around, as she proceeded to push the limits of his love. Finally it had been the strong arm of her mother who cut the apron strings, after refusing to pay up for Franny's latest Cocaine bill. The old butler shook his head at some of the few unpleasant memories of his long employment here as he reached for a few grubby plates that were also bound for the washer. At least Phillip had learned from the fiasco. He had all the money he needed to embellish Eve's life with spoils but he had so far refrained. Of course Eve never went without and had been entered into the county's top public school but Phillip had been keen to steer her away from 'unnecessary's', as he called them. It had in turn made for a happier child as far as Jerry was concerned and at the end of the day that was all they both wanted for her.
As if to mock the old man's assumption, a frightened shriek emanated from behind him. Jerry gave no thought to the crashing plates he dropped upon others in his instinctive rush to find Eve. He hurried through to the long hallway that connected the ground level of the house in a speed that defied his years. But which way was he to turn? Jerry took a breath in to call out to her when he heard another scream, though this time not Eve's but lower in pitch but just as horrified. It of course belonged to Julie White, the only other cleaner working to day. She was yelling out to him from what sounded like the lounge, as the lack of detail and high ceiling in that room produced a familiar echo. Amongst his panicking thoughts, Jerry spared one to curse at his ailing body as he waddled to the voice.
He was red faced and panting as he used the lounge door frame to pull himself into the room. There stood an open-mouthed Ms White who was staring blankly at Eve, who in turn was grasping and sobbing at the quite still form of Phillip, laying face down on the beautiful deep sheepskin rug.