Smith was in his late fifties and had just received word from his doctor that his mind was failing and memories would be gone in a matter of years. He was determined to maintain one- the one true love of his life, Lilly. Sitting at his desk, pen in hand, he began writing his story so he could keep it in his pocket at all times, once he was placed in a home, and read it as a reminder of all the good in his world. He knew he had the clutch it as long as he could, no matter where he went, and so he did write:
I was a well educated young man, fresh out of college, seeking to see the world. I would not have of my family's offer to enter the business and I set out to Europe to travel, work odd jobs to pay my way and write of my adventures. Often I would accept employment for a year time or two before moving onto another place. Pay was not important, it was all about the experience, meeting people, learning and seeing foreign lands... I was living a man's dream to explore and be free.
After ten years wandering I came to the village of Stanhope by the Sea. It was a quaint rural place. I needed some quiet time to rest and reflect whether it was time to go home to the States. The main employer was the Ashwood family. They were the largest landholder, renting their fields and running an assortment of businesses in the area. I applied for employment and was accepted as a house servant in the family castle.
The castle was grand, it being centuries old, nestled on a hill top perched on a cliff overlooking the rough sea below, an imposing figure from all angles. I, like all other staff, were housed and well fed. We dutifully served the Lord and the Lady Ashwood.
Lord Ashwood's family had sent him to mind the family's interests in this part of the country. Often he traveled to other parts on business for long periods of time leaving the Lady by herself. She was always well cared for in his absence and rarely complained, although I must say, sometimes I thought her a bit lonely, there being few friends of the Ashwood ilk in the locale.
It quickly came to pass that I became one of the more trusted employees, my college education exceeding the others, and, the Ashwoods respecting my family's entrepreneurial background and wealth. A young lady from the village, Lilly, with who I worked, took a liking to me. Often I would find her gazing at me from afar, a passionate determined look in her eyes. I thought her infatuation driven by my foreign background and education, although our ages were divergent by a good ten years, she being but 25 years old. I must admit the infatuation was flattering and mutual. Her fawning nature stroked my ego and soon I could not go a day without seeing her. Although a young girl to me, she was absolutely beautiful, innocent and invigorating and we soon found ourselves growing closer, despite the prohibition in our employment.
At first we would steal away at night to secluded hallways of the castle to kiss and express our passions for each other. She was fascinated with me, always telling me how handsome I was, how my foreign background intrigued her, how my stories of the States made her want to travel and see the other side of the world. Through me she lived dreams a poor girl rarely could.
We grew paranoid that we might be caught if not more cautious in our meetings, in our daily association around the castle, people might grow suspicious and she could ill afford to lose her job as she helped support her parents and siblings with her income.
Each day, Lady Ashwood permitted the female servants to pick a rose from the garden and pin it to their dresses, it being the sole personalization to their otherwise mundane and identical formal uniforms. We agreed that if Lilly wanted to see me, she would pick the reddest of roses, a signal of her desires. Late that night, when all others were asleep, we would sneak off to the antiquities storage room on the third floor. The clandestine scheme and location were at my insistence. Perhaps I pushed it on her as she was more cautious than I based on her family obligations. But she was also conflicted between right and wrong, responsibility and young lust and it was the safest thing for both of us.
And so one night at the agreed time, Lilly made her way to the storage room. It was filled with antique items from centuries gone by and collectibles not being used. The room was dark, its walls made of stone, there being no light save for the sun during the day. Lilly always entered first, a basket of clean clothes in hand- an alibi if encountered- and to hide the small candle she liked to light to fend off the darkness so she could see my face.
