Chapter 4: [Hozier]

By the time I arrived at Edmund's place, I was exhausted enough to consider turning around and going home. Not that home was much of an option anymore. I had spent the entire day dealing with one disaster after another, and the thought of explaining everything to Edmund made me feel even worse.

He had already done so much for me over the years. I hated the idea of showing up at his door with another problem, especially one I had no idea how to solve. Still, I couldn't bring myself to leave without seeing him.

The orphanage was quieter than usual when I walked through the front entrance. A few of the younger children were gathered in the common room, watching television, while one of the older girls helped a little boy with his homework at the dining table. I greeted them and continued towards Edmund's office, but he wasn't there.

"Looking for someone?"

I turned at the sound of his voice. Edmund stood near the doorway leading to the kitchen, holding a dish towel in one hand. His expression softened when he saw me.

"Grandpa."

"Well, look who finally remembers that he has an old man waiting for him." He smiled and opened his arms.

I walked over and hugged him. "I've been busy."

"Busy enough to forget how to use a telephone?"

I gave him a small smile. "I didn't forget."

"Good. At least your memory is still functioning. Come along. I've just finished preparing dinner."

I followed him into the kitchen, where the smell of freshly cooked food made me realise how hungry I was. Edmund had always been particular about making sure I ate whenever I visited, and he wasted no time placing a plate in front of me.

"Sit down before the food gets cold."

I settled into the chair and picked up my fork. Edmund took the seat opposite me, but his attention remained on my face.

"How are things at university?"

I hesitated. "Fine."

He raised an eyebrow. "You travelled all the way here to tell me things are fine?"

I lowered my eyes to my plate. "It's been a long day."

"I can see that. Now tell me what's wrong."

I tried to concentrate on my food, but there was little point pretending with him. Edmund had known me for years, and he could usually tell when I was hiding something before I even opened my mouth.

I started from the fire, and when I got to losing my scholarship today. 

Edmund leaned back in his chair, clearly displeased. "You should have called me as soon as you received that notice."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Hozier, I'm already worried. Keeping things from me doesn't change that."

I pushed a piece of food around my plate. There was something uncomfortable about having to say the next part aloud. "There's more."

His face grew serious. "Go on."

"The apartment building was sold. The landlord called an urgent meeting today and told everyone we have two days to leave."

Edmund looked at me for a moment, as though he was waiting for me to say I was joking. When I didn't, he placed his fork down completely.

"Two days?"

"That's what he said."

"And where are you going to stay?"

"I haven't figured that out yet."

"Then you can stay here."

I shook my head before he could say anything else. "No, Grandpa."

"Hozier."

"I appreciate it, but I can't keep coming here every time something goes wrong. You've already helped me more than enough."

"This place has rooms, and you know there is always a place for you here. You are not a burden."

"I know, but I need to figure this out myself. I can't keep depending on you."

His expression became firm. "There is a difference between accepting help and refusing to take responsibility for your life. You are allowed to need people, Hozier."

I looked down at my plate. "I know."

"Do you?"

I didn't answer.

Edmund sighed, then reached across the table and placed a hand over mine. "Listen to me. I won't force you to accept anything, but I won't sit here pretending you have to struggle alone just to prove that you can manage. If you need a place to stay, you have one. If you need help with your tuition, we will discuss it. You don't have to make every decision tonight."

I nodded, grateful for him even though I knew I would still find a way to avoid accepting his offer.

We finished dinner with a little conversation about the children and the things happening around the orphanage. 

Edmund told me one of the boys had managed to sneak a frog into his room, and I laughed when he described the chaos that followed. It was a welcome distraction, but my problems remained waiting for me.

After helping him clear the table, I took my laptop from my bag and settled at the dining table again.

"What are you doing now?" he asked.

"Looking for somewhere to stay."

Edmund glanced at the screen. "I thought we had already discussed that."

"We discussed you offering me a room. I haven't accepted."

He gave me a disapproving look, but I pretended not to notice.

I opened several property websites and began searching through the available listings. Most of the places were far beyond what I could afford, while the cheaper ones were either shared rooms or located so far from the university that getting to class would become another problem.

I scrolled through page after page, growing increasingly frustrated with the prices. 

"Have you found anything?" Edmund asked.

"Not unless you're willing to lend me a fortune."

"Don't tempt me."

I smiled faintly and continued scrolling. A few minutes later, a listing caught my attention.

LIVE-IN HOUSEKEEPER REQUIRED.

The position was for a private residence outside central London. The successful applicant would be responsible for general household duties, keeping the shared areas clean, assisting with basic household organisation, and following the employer's daily instructions. 

Accommodation and meals would be provided, and the salary was considerably higher than anything I had expected from a housekeeping position.

There was no mention of previous experience being compulsory. The employer wanted someone dependable, discreet, organised, and available to begin immediately. The arrangement was listed as permanent, with a private room included.

I frowned.

"That looks interesting," Edmund said, noticing how long I had been staring at the screen.

"I'm not sure."

"Why?"

I turned the laptop slightly so he could see it. "It's a live-in housekeeping position. They provide accommodation and meals, and the salary is good."

Edmund adjusted his glasses and read through the advert carefully. "Where is the residence?"

"They haven't given the exact address. It says the location will be provided to shortlisted applicants."

"And what are the working hours?"

I scrolled down. "It says the schedule will be discussed during the interview."

He looked at me. "That's rather vague."

"Exactly. And look at the salary. It's almost too good to be true."

Edmund read the advert once more before returning his attention to me. "You should apply."

I looked at him. "You think so?"

"I think you need somewhere to live, and this position includes accommodation. You also need work, and they are offering a salary. At the very least, you can find out more before making a decision."

"But it sounds strange."

"Most opportunities are worth investigating. That doesn't mean you should accept anything without asking questions. If they invite you for an interview, you can find out exactly what they expect from you."

I considered his words. He was right. Applying didn't mean I had to accept the position, and I couldn't afford to dismiss one of the few opportunities that seemed capable of solving two of my problems at once.

I opened the application form and began filling in my details. I attached my CV, explained that I was currently a university student with experience balancing work and academic responsibilities, and submitted the application.

"Done," I said, leaning back in my chair.

Edmund nodded. "Good. Now, don't spend the rest of the evening staring at that screen. You'll hear from them when you hear from them."

I closed the laptop halfway and returned to the conversation, although my mind kept drifting back to the advert. It was an unusual opportunity, but I couldn't deny that the accommodation and salary would make a considerable difference.

My phone vibrated on the table. I glanced at it, expecting another rejection, but the notification was from the same company I had just applied to.

I opened the message;

Dear Mr Pruitt,

Thank you for your application. We are pleased to inform you that you have been shortlisted for the live-in housekeeping position. You are required to attend an in-person assessment tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. Please report to the address provided below and ask for the household manager upon arrival.

I read the message twice, just to be sure.

"Is it them?" Edmund asked.

I turned the screen towards him. "They've already responded."

"That was quick."

"Too quick, if you ask me."

He read the message and looked at the address displayed beneath it. "Well, at least you have an opportunity to find out more. Make sure you arrive on time."

I nodded, but something about the speed of the response continued to bother me. I had barely submitted the application, yet they had already shortlisted me and arranged an assessment for the following morning.

I opened the advert again and checked the details, searching for something I might have overlooked. There was no company profile, no photograph of the property, and no contact number apart from the email address listed on the application page.

"Grandpa, do you think this is safe?"

Edmund studied the message again. "I think you should be careful. Confirm the details before you leave, let me know when you arrive, and don't agree to anything you don't understand."

"I will."

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "And Hozier?"

"Yes?"

"Don't let desperation make decisions for you. You still have the right to ask questions."

I nodded and saved the address on my phone.

I had no idea who I would be working for, what the residence looked like, or why they had responded to my application so quickly. All I knew was that I had been given an address and a time.

And by this time tomorrow, I might be living under a roof that belonged to a complete stranger.