How to survive the worst novel ever written

Chapter 58: Chapter 58 – Back home


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It was like the main plot of "My Impure Obsession" had come to a standstill. With the male lead having voluntarily disappeared and Madeleine unwilling to pursue, at least for the moment, any man, not that her author could do much to try to bring them together.

No, it wasn't just that she couldn't perform any maneuvering on this, it's that Dianne didn't even seem capable of accomplishing what she originally set out to do with the Youngs. That is, kick them off the property based on small scares and convenient rumors that they were facing an evil entity if that family did not leave Rose Cottage within the stipulated time.

Anyway. Oscar did not know if it was that Dianne was startled that afternoon when he saw her appear in the gardens, almost discovering her before young Roger, and did not want to try maneuvering like that again. Or if, on the contrary, that incident only gave her wings to keep trying without much success. Oscar did not know because, after finding out what the author was up to, he completely ignored her machinations.

He didn´t limit himself to the usual, to refrain from participating in any crazy plan that would not benefit him. No, he also tried to cut off the flow of information: Once he was sure that the few two or three people he considered friends in that town were not in danger from the goings-on of Madeleine and Dianne, he ignored them.

The author and her most treasured creation could do whatever they wanted, he wasn't going to get involved.

And, indeed, he kept his word. Although Dianne did come to his door a couple of times, on different days, he refused to listen and sent her back to her own apartment with a few words of encouragement. Words spoken, more than out of good luck wishes, than out of courtesy. Oscar was even lazy to argue with these people! What did it matter if Patrick was away or that Madeleine was now free to hook up with anyone? It's not like he's interested in going after one man's money or the other's skirts.

Now the great thing about Patrick's absence is that it had a ripple effect. As there was no longer any need to cast the female lead as a damsel in distress for the aforementioned to come to her rescue, the fatal accidents against Madeleine ceased. Or well, they should have stopped. Oscar, not being in frequent contact with the main person involved, did not know for sure. But this was what he deduced, considering that neither she complained to him again because they had tried to attempt on her life, nor did Dianne return to boast of another of her reckless homicide plots, much less was it known from Snodland that the police had opened a file due to this.

Perhaps it was due to the total absence of news from these people that the following weeks passed calmly. It was all so peaceful that, if it weren't for the fact that every day he woke up in his room at the Victorian inn where he was staying, Oscar could have sworn he was in his world. And it is that, without having the protagonists and its annoying author fluttering around, the novel was not so bad. In fact, he could seamlessly go through an ordinary alternate reality, with similar pros and cons to the world he was used to.

In this newly acquired calm, the days passed in peace until March finally arrived.

Oscar settled in what had become his usual place when he stayed in Thornfield. That is, the only desk in the library. The same one that Albert used to use when both remained enjoying each other's company, in that room full of books and shelves.

In truth, this was the best place Oscar could put himself. For some time now, he had been using his office at work only for summaries and character outlines, or to help with the printing of some other column that he was not busy writing about, in case they needed extra help with. So the actual writing of his novel was usually left to when he came to Thornfield.

Once there, he left all his papers and documents on that table, starting to create immediately.

The reason he used to prefer this location to anything Mr. Simmons offered him was that he was not disturbed by anyone in the Northrop library. Servants, at most, could come to the door to offer him coffee or simply to check that he was still breathing. But nothing else. If he asked them for time alone, no one dared to pester him. Which in the newspaper store was unable to do, because, despite also having his own desk, there was no wall that separated him from the rest of his colleagues. And hence both the noise and possible distractions multiplied.

Also, accustomed as he was to this room, somehow it even seemed that the words flowed more easily. At such a level that, if he so proposed, he could immediately focus on the chapter that touched him without any need for preliminaries.

Thus, back to what had become his routine, the hours passed as usual, without him noticing.

So focused was he on his own that he didn't even hear someone knock on the door and then walked into the room without waiting for an answer.

Although the servants did not usually appear before him during these moments of continuous work, it did happen often that the butler came from time to time to advise him of the time or offer him some refreshment. This was not by whim of the aforementioned, but by an express request of Oscar, that the saint used to go to heaven when he was inspired for a scene. And since he, too, used to walk back to Snodland, it was a good idea to have someone let him know if the time was running out. For, just as he did not want to occupy a Northrop carriage, neither did he want to have to travel the roads after dark.

Thinking that surely someone from the service had arrived, Oscar did not look up from the paper until the other person was just a couple of meters from him.

“You…!” In his surprise, he jumped to his feet, narrowly spilling a bottle of ink that stood to one side. “I wasn't expecting you until next week!”

Certainly, it was none other than Albert Northrop who stood before him. This was not a dream, nor was it a hallucination caused by the perpetual overexertion that Oscar insisted on submitting to more than meet his deadlines. The villain of the novel was there again, in the flesh.

"I'd tell you there was a change in plans and we were able to get back sooner, but I´d be lying”, Albert explained, with a shy smile. “The truth is that it was a mere whim of mine. So I hurried my affairs and, unfortunately for my father, I hat to decline an invitation or two to some event that I was also supposed to attend.”

"Unfortunately for him, yes," laughed Oscar, abandoning his place at the desk and moving closer to the villain, "but I bet it was to your delight as well."

“I cannot deny it. Even not having concluded the business that was keeping me in the capital in time, it is likely that he would have used another excuse to save me from attending.”

"Does that mean you came back alone? Not that I have much idea of ​​society balls and other posh events, but I understood that it was important to go to one of them to publicize your companies.” Seeing that Albert nodded, almost imperceptibly, he continued in good humor. “I don't know if I want to ask what was the excuse for coming so quickly.”

"That excuse… I-it's not a bad thing, really. I just mentioned that I was bored of being in the city, which is not new. My father knows well that I am not fond of spending the social season in a large population center, since it is inevitable that we´ll be invited to events. And then there´s the noise, the excessive crowds because you have to queue to enter certain buildings where the celebrations take place… ” Lowering his voice a little, he added. “Maybe I also told him that I was planning to give you a job here. And that it would be convenient to interview you as soon as possible, in case you changed your mind or got a better offer.”

Why don't you speak clearly and just say you wanted to see me? Oscar wondered. But although he did not ask the question aloud, his face showed how satisfied he was. No, he didn't need to pressure someone like Albert to get such an answer. Since, although he did not express it in words, the actions taken used to give him away.

"Why didn't you tell me you'd be coming sooner?" Oscar put in, in mock annoyance, turning back to the desk. “Look at this mess… If I knew you were coming I would have picked up some!”

"Still more than you already have?" Before the other had a chance to ask, Albert commented. “I have corresponded with the service, as is often the case when neither my father nor I are in Thornfield, and they told me you were taking care of the library.”

"I wouldn't say as much as that… I've only limited myself to cleaning up what I made dirty myself. But let's put that aside and better tell me, how was the trip?”

“Tiresome. They should extend the railway line to get here, because it is an ordeal to have to make the entire journey by stagecoach. I had been in that damn carriage since dawn. And they don't even make enough stops so that you can stretch your legs and the horses have a chance to rest.” Noticing that Oscar was stacking a small pile of used paper aside, he inquired. “What is that? A new chapter of your novel?”

Hearing that last question, the aforementioned stopped. He had told him before about his job at the newspaper, but he had never specified what his role in it was.

"Have you been reading the chapters I already published?" Seeing that the villain did not respond, perhaps thinking that he had screwed up by mentioning it, he insisted. “Since when?”

"Since… September, I think," Albert calculated. “Although then you were not making novels, but stories.”

"Don't tell me you've been reading me all these months and you haven't said anything!"

"You didn't mention that you had been employed as a writer either; I thought you didn't want it to be known. And, furthermore, since you sign with that pseudonym ...”

"You know the pseudonym, of course," Oscar murmured, one could see that he was enjoying that thread of conversation. “How did you find out?”

"What do you mean how? Calling you Poisoned Tongue and writing those suspense stories, narrating with your usual sarcasm and simplicity… It was so obvious! Anyone who knew you a little and read the newspaper often could have noticed.”

“You think so?”

If Oscar was having so much fun with this, it was because the villain must have been the only one who had found out that he worked for the newspaper writing stories without being told. So far, the only people who knew Oscar was employed in this trade — knowing what his duties were — were Dianne, Kenneth, and Sayer.

The first because he had applied for the same position and, obviously, she also knew his pseudonym before. The second was because, during his time at Lilac Hall, he had caught him on numerous occasions writing some of the texts commissioned from him for his section. And the third, of course, because he had been forced to tell him about it, once they began to deal with each other more in those months.

"Then I will have to understand that you are up to date with what I have published," Oscar continued slowly, thinking that this sounded very strange.

The novel began serializing the month before, when Albert was no longer in town. Ergo, even though he knew about the stories, it was unusual for him to know about the novel. Much less that he had started to read it.

"Let's just say that I had a particular interest in the local press and, although I left, I left everything in order to buy the new editions as soon as they came out. To be precise, they were sent to me.”

"To London? Wouldn't it have been easier for you to wait to come back? You could have gotten all the issues in one sitting and wouldn't have had to waste time or money getting it shipped”

"It wasn't a waste, I wanted to know how the story continued."

"If it was only for that, you could have told me; since I've been working there, they always give me a newspaper of each issue. I would have had no problem giving it to you for free.”

“But…!” The villain stopped by himself, perhaps having exhausted his excuses.

"On the other hand, why buy a whole newspaper for a simple one-page story…? Ah, I know!” Oscar took the mountain of written papers that he had put aside and offered it to Albert saying. “Why don't you go ahead and read the next few chapters? Here are the next five, roughly.”

“May I?”

"Of course, this is not yet to be delivered. Plus, so I can get a second opinion before I do a final review. Which will not hurt, by the way. I'm so used to writing without considering anyone's opinion that I'm afraid I'll make a mistake one of these days.”

After all, this was not like it was in his day, Oscar told himself. Here you could not publish something and, after noticing a flaw in the plot, delete it the next day without a considerable loss of time or money invested. Hence, it was fortunate to have someone else, apart from his bosses, who could give their opinion as reader.

"I thought you were asking that author friend of yours for advice too," Albert mused aloud, though he took the role well anyway.

"To Dianne? No way, I rather burn the manuscript! That woman would not know how to appreciate it.” Realizing that the mention of the author in this was somewhat strange, since she and the villain were never formally introduced, he wanted to inquire. “Why have you even mentioned her?”

"For nothing, it's just that during the Christmas Eve ball I thought you were getting along well. And, since you said she was a writer, I thought: This she has to be the right person to discuss literary issues with him.”

"I confess that she, still crazy as I assure you she is, I do not detest her. But I wouldn't go so far as to consider her a friend, much less to let her put her claws on my precious writings,” laughed Oscar, only imagining the evils that a mind like Dianne's could commit if it were given the work of someone who so harshly criticized her back in the day. “The privilege of reading and saving them until it is time to deliver in the newspaper will only be granted to you.”

Something must have clicked on the villain's head, because he got so stuck after what he barely managed to thank him, clinging to the pile of papers that he had in his hands as if it were a priceless treasure.

"If I gave it to anyone else," Oscar continued, "it would be work wasted."

"Even if you're not willing to show your writings to others before the deadline," Albert finally decided to start off, "I'm glad you at least have someone to share hobbies with, other than me. It's not that I'm the most outgoing person in the world, but I think having friends is important.”

"I agree, but I wish I had more reasonable friends here or those who liked to read! You know? The only one who has a fondness for reading among my friends is Sayer, and the guy doesn't exactly read novels or press fascicles.”

No, it was well known to those familiar to him that the postman only found pleasure in reading people's letters, if there was any possibility of doing so without the recipients noticing.

"Be that as it may, I'll start reading this as soon as possible," Albert pointed out with a smile, perhaps preferring to omit what he thought of Sayer's bad habit. “And when I'm done, you'll hear from me.”

"You don't need to hurry, didn't you say you were tired from the trip? I also wanted to talk to you about a couple of important matters, but it is better to leave it for another day. I don't mean to overwhelm you just when you just got home, and it's not that urgent anyway.”

"If this could wait two months without destroying the world, we could certainly wait a few more hours," thought Oscar. Although it was very likely that Albert did not mind continuing to talk about these topics or others of less importance, since the aforementioned tried to continue the conversation as best he could, noting that his exhaustion was not so great as to prevent him from having a good time chatting with someone he looked like he hadn't seen in an eternity.

It was a pity that this renewed conversation was interrupted after a couple of minutes by one of the maids knocking on the door.

"Excuse me," she excused herself, once she obtained permission to enter the room, and turning to Albert, she sentenced. “You have a visitor; It's Miss Madeleine Cornell.”

“So fast?” Oscar murmured, surprised.

Since Patrick left temporarily, the protagonist had no one actively pursuing her. And, until that moment in which the villain arrived, she had not had anyone to harass either. Could it not be deduced, then, that she had been holding back all this time?

On the other hand, Albert did not seem surprised at all when he explained to Oscar:

"I had already seen her from afar in town, when I was coming here. I almost had to get off the diligence at lightning speed and then into my own carriage, signaling for it to start immediately, just to get rid of unwanted conversation. Who would have thought Miss Cornell would bother to walk here, following the car?” Addressing the maid, he instructed. “Tell I can´t meet her, I'm busy.”

"I-I can't do that, I'm sorry," she apologized. “Miss Cornell was very insistent. She said that she would not leave until she´s greeted, now she is waiting for you in her office.”

"But what does she want? Didn't she say so?"

“She just said that it is something of extreme importance that has to be discussed only with you. She even stressed that she did not wish to speak to anyone else.”

Hearing this, the villain seemed upset. However, after a full minute of consideration, he asked:

"Tell her I'll speak with her.  I'll stop by the office in a moment, then.”

And so, the maiden breathed in relief and left, having gotten rid of a row. As for Oscar, hearing this, he thought Albert would leave the library for a few minutes or, whatever long it would take to get rid of the unwanted guest. He was considering clearing what was left of the desk and sitting in a chair to read while he waited for the other to return. But, against all odds, the villain told him:

"Let's go then, let's not keep her waiting."

Oscar went blank for a few seconds. And he would have asked if he really meant that he could accompany him if not for Albert had already turned his back on him, heading towards the library exit, assuming that he would follow behind.

And yes, Oscar had to. He was curious as to why Albert had asked to accompany him and, since this was a few words and the journey to that office was also short, he refrained from commenting. Soon he would find out what was going on.

Madeleine was waiting for them where she was directed, sitting in one of the armchairs with a calm expression and impeccable position, making it appear that the governess had done a good job of instructing her on etiquette. When Albert entered the room, she rose to her feet, greeting him with a radiant smile, as if she had not even half an hour since the aforementioned hers had left her lying on the road.

Then, as the protagonist saw Oscar enter right behind her precious neighbor, her smile disappeared. And she, completely ignoring that Oscar also had an expression of not knowing what the hell was happening, she inquired somewhat angrily:

“What is he doing here? I was very specific with the service in saying this would be a private conversation!”

“It hasn't been made official yet, although Oscar and I already talked about it a couple of months ago; my family plans to hire him as a secretary. So, considering that from now on he will have to be a part of the Northrop business, why deprive him of hearing this conversation?”

"But... but I'm not here to talk about any business!" I don't understand what his new job has to do with his having the right to stay and listen to a more personal conversation.”

Oscar would have liked to say that he didn't understand either, but actually, he did. The excuse may have been a terrible one, since in truth a salaryman had nothing to do with the private affairs of his employer, but it was understandable that Albert did not want to be alone with Madeleine after what happened last time. No, more than that, hadn't he already gotten himself into a lot of trouble for being misunderstood? It was only logical that he preferred that Oscar was present, acting as a witness to what came.

To further discomfort in the environment, the villain not only ignored Madeleine's protests, but invited Oscar to sit on another of the sofas, while he himself took care of settling down at his own desk, at a safe distance from the protagonist.

To be frank, Oscar didn't want to be there. He would have been happy to stay in the library, since he didn't feel like getting into the middle of more drama and also trusted Albert enough to know that he wouldn't succumb to anything Madeleine suggested. He didn't need to witness something that was already evident! But even though it all seemed like a waste of time, he decided to play Albert's game. How could he refuse to stay now that he was already sitting in the office, anyway?

"I can't talk about this with him here, it's very embarrassing!" Madeleine went on in her tantrum.

"If you don't want to talk to him here, I have no problem." Before she could suggest that, in such a case, he should ask the aforementioned to leave, Albert added. “I will notify the service to accompany you in your way out”

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“Me?”

“As I said, he is already one more in this house. I wasn't asking you if it's okay with him staying; I'm just letting you know that he will. If you don't want to converse with him present, we will not converse at all. Hence, it would be better if you left, so as not to waste our respective time anymore.”

It seemed that Madeleine was going to protest again, so Oscar was ahead of her, suddenly pondering that it wasn´t so bad to be in this office witnessing how Albert controlled the flow of the conversation at will:

"You can say what you want," he said to the protagonist, trying to contain his laughter. I promise not to intervene, whatever I hear, I will only be a mere listener.”

It was clear from Madeleine's face that she didn't believe a word of that promise. But going back to Albert, it was also clear that he was not going to give in. And, considering how elusive he was, who could assure the protagonist that she could re-enter Thornfield another day? So even though she didn't like having viewers, she had to proceed:

"First of all, I'd like to bring up the subject of my letters." Madeleine emphasized those last two words over the previous ones, directing a very brief look of hatred at Oscar. “This guy who I once considered my best friend, like a brother to me, vilely misled me by giving me the wrong address.”

"But that issue is settled, right?"

It should be, at least. When Oscar realized that the complaining reader of the newspaper was responding in the villain's place, he rushed to write to Albert to comment on the event and ask for permission to give Madeleine the real information. It was not what he would have liked to do, but it was preferable to the impostor saying something more compromising on someone else's behalf. So, after receiving the permission he needed from him, Oscar had confronted the protagonist to apologize and give his real address. At first she didn't believe him, but the evidence was more than revealing: The impostor's handwriting had nothing to do with Albert's. Not to mention, there was no way the true villain could be so open and friendly with someone he didn't like.

It had been a few weeks since this misunderstanding had been cleared up, and Madeleine certainly hadn't wasted her time.

"The letters from that lady, whoever she is, stopped when I stopped writing to her," Madeleine said. “But I wasn't talking about it! I was referring to the letters I sent to your real address after Oscar told me about the mistake made on purpose. Did you manage to read them? I'm afraid that the new address he gave me was also false, as I didn't get a single reply!”

Instead of answering, Albert simply opened a drawer of his desk and, with complete deliberation, took out a pile of letters that he deposited on the table. There must have been about fifteen or twenty, all intact. It looked like they hadn't even been removed from the envelopes.

"Those are mine!"

"Thinking it again, it's good that you came to see me," Albert said. “This way I will save myself having to stop by your house to return them.”

"What do you mean return them? You haven´t even read them!”

“It did not seem appropriate to read them, much less answer them. And since I couldn't go back to Snodland to tell you to stop sending them, I had no choice but to store them until I had a chance to tell this in person.”

"It's because of what happened with Patrick on Christmas Eve, right? In the letters I apologized for that, he can be so possessive sometimes…! But if you want to, I can even get him to apologize as he should. It's not that Patrick is still my fiancé, to be honest I don't even want to have anything to do with him, but...”

"An apology isn't necessary, I'm not interested in hearing it. And while it is true that what happened that night is a good reason in itself for anyone to give up treating you, it is not my only reason. So, if he's that nice, you can pick up the letters and we'll pretend you never wrote them. Your partner… or whatever he is to you, he doesn´t have to know.”

"I don't understand, why don´t you even want to read them? If they have nothing wrong! I was only trying to express in them the desire I had to see you again in town. Well, that and that we should meet for a walk or have tea sometime. The normal stuff!”

“Fifteen to twenty letters just for that?” Oscar wondered sarcastically.

"If it was just that, I can answer you now."

"Ah, so it's a yes?"

"It's a no with no possibility of retraction. And no, don't go back to the same thing that you´re not with Mr. Seymour anymore or that I can get an apology for the unnecessary grief. Even if you asked for that, he would deny it.”

“How can it be?” Realizing a terrible possibility, Madeleine exclaimed. “It won't be that you already like someone else!”

“That's how it is.”

"But… But you can change your mind! Have you already started courting her? I knew you before, and I sure have been sending you letters for a long time!”

"Not only do I like that person, but we're already dating. Hence, I find it disrespectful to correspond with someone other.”

As he put it, it could be sensed that what Albert meant was that he was aware of Madeleine's intentions to get him into an affair. Not that he had a problem corresponding with anyone who offered him friendship or business because of his work, but if it was a more intimate premise, he did not want to correspond with anyone except one.

"Well, it's okay if you´re already dating," Madeleine murmured after a long pause, in which she seemed to be considering her possibilities. “What is she like, is she pretty? I can still unseat her if I put my mind to it!”

"It is not a question of competition."

"That is what you say now, because you´re still not aware of all my virtues" At that time, the protagonist had already got back on her feet. “If you don´t want to receive me at your house, accept letters or treat me to a simple cup of tea now, it doesn't matter! I am confident that I will be able to show that I am so much better than that woman you´re seeing now.”

"Don't even try, please." She had barely done anything, but the villain already seemed tired of having to deal with her.

Although, of course, Madeleine didn't notice.

"I know what's going on, you´re afraid of having to find yourself in the situation of abandoning your mistress in pursuit of me. But do not worry! I'll make it easy for you when the time comes. After all, I know you won't find anyone more virtuous and charming than me, I just need some time to make you see it.” Turning to Oscar, she snapped at him, annoyed. “And you, stop laughing!”

But Oscar couldn't stop laughing despite he tried. The situation was too ridiculous to be serious.

"As I said," Albert tried to get out of the mess, "there is no need for you to make an effort. My answer will not change. So if you now could take this letters and leave...”

"I will, since I can see I'm in the way here," she said, picking up all the envelopes and then throwing them into the nearest fireplace.

The fire was not lit, but in those days it was still cold and the fireplace would be lit for a while during the nights and first thing in the morning. So even if the missives didn't burn at that moment, there was no doubt that they would end up doing so the next time that thing caught fire.

"I apologize for coming today," she said, eliminating any trace of disappointment in her tone, "I shouldn't have come so soon. Knowing that you´re tired and groggy from the trip, it is obvious that you don´t think well when you say that you would not even consider me as a potential partner.”

"Of course I was clearly thinking about it, I've been thinking about it for months!"

“But it's okay, you'll have more opportunities to realize the mistake you´re making: I'll show you. Don't think I'm going to give up just because you´re already courting someone!”

"In these cases, the truth is that surrendering would be the right thing to do."

"Even if I can't compete in talent (which I tell you is unlikely), I'll do it in beauty! Just wait and see!”

Before Albert could blurt out another sentence of protest, Madeleine stormed out of the room, slamming the door as she left. By then, the villain was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief realizing that at least, for that day, he would not have to face her again.

As for Oscar, he was still enjoying himself from his spectator position. Even the tears had come out listening to Madeleine and trying to contain herself.

"You could have said something," Albert chided him once they were alone again.

"No, no, I said I wouldn't get involved!" These are entanglements between wealthy people, how could I, who belong to common mortals, intervene?

"Looks like you've been enjoying yourself."

The villain gave up. It was not that Oscar did not feel capable of intervening or that he did not consider it appropriate. It was that he just didn't want to. It was much more rewarding for him to sit and watch someone else take up the subject for a change.

"I haven't had so much fun, don't believe it." When you see Madeleine doing something stupid the first time it is entertaining, the second time you can still have a bit of fun, but from the third time it all becomes tedious — Seeing that Albert was sitting there, opening and closing the drawers of his desk, like if he tried to find a lost object, he inquired. Have you lost something?

"I'm not sure, but now that you mention it ...

"That was one of the things he wanted to wait to talk to you about; That idiot of my cousin was around for a few days before he left. You can ask your service about it but, from what the guy told me, it was felt that something stole from here. ”Before Albert asked further about it, he continued. This he told me just before he got on the stage to leave for the city, so I could not stop him or verify that he had not taken anything at the time. I could only go back here and try to take a look. But since the servants did not notice that anything was missing and I am not very familiar with your possessions either ... I thought it best to wait for you to return to see for yourself that nothing was missing.

-Why do not you tell me before?

"What good would it have been?" I wasn't even sure he had stolen anything from you. And if this was the case, you would have had to make the way back in vain. ”Noting now that Albert had stopped searching but still wore a complicated expression on his face, as if he was really worried about something, he noted. If you can't find something, don't get depressed about it. Thomas was inept enough to give me his new address before he left. So if it was something valuable, we can always go there to hold him accountable.

"Putting that aside, why would your cousin steal here?"

Now that things had gotten this far, Oscar went on to explain how Thomas had dropped out of college without his parents' knowledge, started a shady business in Oxford, and incidentally returned to Snodland to ask his beloved cousin for money. Oscar did not omit anything in his account, adding even the episode of the day of his farewell, when his fist landed so fortuitously on Thomas's eyeball.

—I wrote a letter to Thomas University shortly after he had confessed to me that he dropped out, asking for a formal letter containing both the reasons for his resignation as well as a copy of his grades and the papers he had to sign for leave studies hanging, ”Oscar finished. But, as I imagined, they are not willing to share that information about their former students, unless it is the parents who ask. The only way that they would agree to give it to other not-so-close relatives, and this was mentioned to me by the dean in response to my letter, is by going to the university in person.

"But you haven't traveled there," Albert deduced. Do you even plan to do it?

"I don't know, for now I had no interest." It's a long trip, I'd miss days of work, and what for anyway? I don't care so much about Thomas's life as to be uncovering his dirty laundry in front of my uncles.

"Although you may not be interested in doing it, you must have had something to say to the Stevens, after how you behaved."

"Oh yeah, I did tell you what Thomas told me." I also apologized for the outburst, not once but several times. But even though they forgave me, presumably they don't believe me. Not that they blame me or call me a liar to my face, but my uncles (especially Aunt Cathy) have been pretty cold to me lately. Before they almost had to drag me out of work to come to dinner with them and now I'm the one who has to go knock on their door. Because they, on their own initiative, do not contact me. They don't even want to stay in the same room with me for more than half an hour, I've checked.

"That's terrible, you should do something to remedy it immediately."

"Do you think so?" It doesn't bother me, in particular. After what I told you about your son, without having any proof, it is natural that you do not believe me. Of course, I plan to go to Oxford to get the documents I need, if my uncles don't come forward. But, as he told you, apart from clearing my name, I don't gain anything with it. Hence I was hoping to not be so busy, so I could even take it as a little vacation.

Oscar smiled when he said that last, as if the whole matter was a trifle that did not deserve his attention. Albert might still be uneasy about the whole situation that Thomas had created, but seeing that the other was not pretending to say that he was not unhappy, he calmed down a bit.

"Anyway, this should be solved as soon as possible," he pointed out. You may not care about the reputation this can generate, but I do. So maybe not this week, and not next week. But before the summer we will have to take a trip to Oxford.

-In plural?

"Perhaps I have been confused and what I am looking for was stored elsewhere, I have to look for it more calmly tomorrow ... But regardless, if you are going to talk to your cousin I will accompany you."

Oscar was going to say that he did not need an escort because, after the last blow he gave Thomas, it was unlikely that he would continue to take him for a poor ignorant who did not know how to defend himself. But, knowing that Albert was mentioning him in an effort to help and not to question his abilities, he preferred to save it.

"What was it you were looking for?"

There must have been something strange about that question, because it caused the villain to lock up on the spot:

"I-it was something important… But I can't tell you what."

"Was it worth a lot?" Thomas wouldn't have stolen it if he didn't believe he was, considering how much the total amount of his debts amounted to.

"It was valuable, yes," Albert confirmed.

He was still being evasive about this, so much so that he had gotten to his feet and walked around the desk. It was not known whether he already intended to return to the library or whether such action was carried out to move away from his favorite search place, thus ensuring that no further questions were asked about it.

"But it's weird, the way Thomas put it, he sounded like he was the one he was stealing from me." And yet he directed me toward Thornfield. What could be here that he was mine?

"What if we go back to the library?" Uncomfortable as the villain must have felt, that must have been a poorly disguised plea as a suggestion.

-Seem right. So let's ignore that matter, classifying it as unresolved until you finally verify where he could have ended up. ”Oscar said this but, before they could leave, he added something that froze the villain again. And, until then, why don't we talk better about that person you have rejected Madeleine for?

Albert said nothing, but his face turned redder as Oscar continued speaking:

"Who could he be?" I mean, he has to be someone important so that you refuse even to receive other proposals of a romantic nature. And, how is it that you are already dating? It is true that you are very reserved with your private life! Not even I was aware that you already had such a dear person next to you. After a little pause, he said more to himself than to the other. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered you by sending you letters; You must have been busy, not just with your business, but keeping that person company.

"It's not how you think ...!"

But Albert stopped in the middle of his exclamation, since Oscar was already turning away from laughter by himself, as if he had just ripped the second joke of the day from someone.

"In these months of absence you have untrained yourself." You haven't picked up on the sarcasm as quickly as you usually do!

"That must be it, yes." Albert sighed in relief; listening to Oscar he had panicked but, fortunately, that did not last long. But you shouldn't make those jokes right after I got back from a trip, for a moment I thought I had done something wrong!

This was not a complaint. He wasn't berating him for having that sense of humor, and certainly with what he said he wasn't trying to get Oscar to stop acting like that either. No. What he said was a simple observation. He was scared for an instant, which was a mistake in itself - since, just as his feelings were clear, those of the other too - but he quickly recovered.

With Madeleine out of sight of him, their spirits could only improve. Oscar noticed it too; the villain was not mad at him. On the contrary, he seemed like he even had relaxed enough to laugh at his own stupidity.

It was at that moment, in which Albert was distracted, that he took the opportunity to do so. Oscar stopped laughing and, returning to his serious expression, grabbed the villain by the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards him, until his lips made contact. Unlike the kiss they shared on New Year's Eve, which only lasted a couple of seconds, this one was longer and deeper.

When Oscar finally pulled away, releasing Albert, he pointed with a smile:

"You shouldn't be so nervous." After all, you have done nothing wrong. Rather, I would say that you are doing everything perfectly.

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