The Secret Garden Chapter 1: The meeting at the hotel by D.L. Copyright  © 2011 D.L. All Rights Reserved. Inspired by the classic children's tale by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

It was early afternoon when Mrs Medlock entered the hotel to meet Captain Edwards. After speaking briefly to the maá®tre d’ explaining her presence, she was shown over to a table where a middle-aged man sat drinking tea.

“Captain Edwards?” she asked.

“Yes, Mrs Medlock I presume?” he replied, rising to his feet to shake her hand.

Mrs Medlock nodded and he pulled a chair out for her to sit and asked the attendant to bring extra refreshments.

“I was asked to give you this paperwork,” Mrs Medlock stated, handing the gentleman a sealed envelope. The captain took his pocketknife and sliced through the seal. He sat and read the documents before placing them back into the envelope and slipping them inside his jacket pocket.

“Thank you, everything appears to be in order,” he stated.

“Where is the child?” Mrs Medlock asked.

“He will be here shortly,” the man replied, “his safety is my upmost priority, and therefore I took the precaution of keeping him out of sight until I’m certain that I’m handing him over to the right person.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to catch the earliest train possible, it is a long journey back to Ashby and I don’t wish to stop overnight if it can be avoided,” Mrs Medlock said, “Do you require further proof of my identity than the papers provided? If so I am not sure what I can offer.”

“I have no doubt you are who you say you are, Mrs Medlock,” the captain confirmed. “My concern is the welfare of my charge. Before I relinquish my duty, I would like to make sure that you have been properly informed about the boy’s condition. Am I right to assume you will be his principal carer?”

“For the moment, yes,” said Mrs Medlock, “I am primarily the housekeeper of Ashby, and as such oversee all the staff. I won’t necessarily be directly involved with the care of the child, but I am ultimately responsible for him while the master is away. We plan on hiring a tutor, but we are not certain of his current level of education.”

“How much do you know about the boy?” Captain Edwards enquired.

“He is approaching twelve years of age. He is the only child of my master’s younger brother, Frederick Headley. I understand the mother was Indian. Their marriage was frowned upon by the establishment, and Frederick therefore did not keep in contact much with his family in England. We know they lived outside Darjeeling and prospered from the tea trade. We were told that they both passed away from an outbreak of jungle fever, leaving the boy an orphan. As his next of kin, Lord Headley has agreed to take the child, rather than commit him to an orphanage,” the housekeeper explained.

Mrs Medlock paused to drink her tea before continuing, “We know that there was some concern over the boy’s health, residual weakness due to the fever, and that is why it has taken some time to have him brought back to this country.”

“Is that all? Nothing specific about his medical condition?” the captain asked.

“I don’t know to what you refer, is there something wrong with the boy?” Mrs Medlock countered, “I was told that he has been ill, but is now fit to travel.”

“The journey to Ashby Hall, what does it entail?” the captain queried.

“A train from Liverpool Street, changing once, arrives at Haddiscoe Station. We will be met there and taken the last few miles to the hall,” Mrs Medlock replied, “Not a strenuous journey, just a long one.”

Seeking further clarification the captain continued, “How will you get from the station to the hall?”

“By carriage, of course,” came the reply.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple, of which I can be certain,” the captain replied, sighing. “I had hoped some news of the boy would have been passed on, but alas it appears I’m to be the one to bring the tidings.”

Captain Edwards drank some more of his tea before explaining his knowledge of the child, “Tragedy first struck two years ago. The horse pulling the mother and son’s carriage was spooked, and the vehicle shot off out of control. It was open-topped, and in overturning, injured both occupants. The boy was partially crushed under the upturned framework. The doctors were able to set his arm, ribs and leg, but he unfortunately was not so lucky elsewhere.”

The man hesitated, slightly embarrassed by the news he needed to relay. “I don’t know the exact extent of the damage, as the boy refuses to be seen naked, but I am led to believe that he is incapable of fathering a child. I get the impression that he isn’t even capable of performing the act, and even if he were able to manage it, he would not be able to sire a child.”

“I had no idea,” Mrs Medlock replied in surprise, “how tragic for the lad.”

“He almost died, in some ways it may have been kinder. The physical injuries have healed, although we cannot replace what had to be removed. Unfortunately, he now suffers from panic attacks whenever he goes near a horse. It is simply impossible to transport him in a carriage, believe me when I tell you not even to try,” the captain stated.

“That will make things difficult to say the least,” Mrs Medlock said.

“Unfortunately that is not all,” the gentleman continued, “The accident seriously affected the boy, and he had become increasingly reclusive, only speaking when absolutely necessary, and often disappearing for days on end. When the jungle fever hit the town, it left half the population dead. He was left alone with his deceased parents for several days before being found and rescued. He was delirious with fever and only just pulled through; it was a miracle that he survived.”

Sipping his tea the captain continued, “The boy is now mute. He hasn’t consciously said a word since the illness struck, not that he spoke much since the previous accident, except when acting as a translator for the native workers. The doctors can’t explain it. We know he is capable of making sounds as he screams during the night; the nightmares come several times a week. However, no matter how hard anybody tries, we can’t get him to talk, and believe me we have tried everything we can think of short of torturing the poor boy.”

“Do you think that he is unwilling or is it that he is unable to talk?” Mrs Medlock asked in concern.

“I don’t know. I can only hope that given the stability of a new home, and time to recover, he may regain the power of speech. He used to be able to speak English and three Indian dialects fluently, with smatterings of other languages as well,” replied Captain Edwards, “This child has been through trauma and witnessed death first hand in the worst possible way. He was found lying amongst the rotting corpses of his family and servants on the brink of death himself, hardly able to move. It was enough to give several battle-hardened veterans from the Boer War nightmares.”

The two adults sat in silence and finished their drinks, contemplating the fate of the young lad. After a few minutes the captain called out, “Richard, please come forward and introduce yourself.”

Mrs Medlock turned to look in the direction of the approaching footsteps. A young boy with jet-black hair and a tanned complexion approached the table, stopping a few feet short of their location. The young man was finely dressed in a pale blue cotton suit with a white silk shirt. On seeing both of the adults looking at him he bowed slowly before walking up beside the captain.

The child was carrying two pieces of artist’s paper. On arriving at the table, he handed the first picture to Mrs Medlock who was surprised to find a pencil sketch of her sitting drinking tea. She realised it must have been drawn since she sat down. The likeness was remarkable. The picture was signed in a swirling signature. Underneath were the words, ‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance’.

“He spends most of his time sketching and painting watercolours,” the captain explained. “It keeps him occupied and out of trouble. It’s the one thing that makes him happy, and is the only time you will see him smile. Most of the time he is very quiet and withdrawn.”

The boy then handed the other piece of paper to the captain, who smiled and thanked him before turning and showing the picture to Mrs Medlock. It was a detailed portrait of the captain in full dress uniform done in pencil, ink and watercolour. It was an exceedingly good likeness and was signed by the child with a message of thanks for caring for him over the last few months since his parents died.

The captain then accompanied them to the train station, bringing with him the boy’s luggage, which amounted to one steamer trunk containing all of his possessions. The trunk was tied onto a cart so that it could be wheeled. As the trunk was large and heavy, the soldier pushed it for them until they reached Liverpool Street Station. Thanking the captain, they said their farewells before heading for their train.

The station was crowded and the young man gladly held onto the older woman’s hand so as not to get lost. After finding and boarding the right train, assisted by a porter with the trunk, they settled into a compartment and began the long ride to Ashby Hall.