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Winston had practically lived on the Croft estate his entire life, starting from when he was a young lad in need of a job desperately.
Benjamin Croft had been generous enough to offer him the position even with his lack of experience and despite being offered a chance to leave, he instead chose to continue his life long service he had promised since he was sworn in by Benjamin.
Despite the house being empty most of the time, he still kept the house as clean as possible while Miss Croft was away. It was rare for her to be in the Manor and if she was, she wouldn’t speak to him for hours at a time. Even then, the youngest Croft was resigned and lacked the spunk that Winston had become accustomed to before her fateful excursion to Yamatai.
But that had been 3 years ago and even now she still carries the burden of the island with her, as she did with the atrocities and betrayals of Kitezh and the devastation of Peru.
When she had returned from Peru, her travelling partner, Mr Maiava had filled him in on what had taken place. Winston made sure to contact a home security company the next day to update their systems in case this organisation tried to infiltrate it again but Lara had said in self assurance that “They’ll never harm me again or anyone else for that matter.”’
In recent times, the last time himself and Miss Croft had spoke was when she had been roaming the manor trying to acquire a book in her father’s study, she was trying to decipher some type of coordinates hidden in a piece of scripture.
Winston had practically seen the woman from the moment she was in diapers to the moments he’d see her now. He had grown aware of everything about the younger woman, her tells were quite easy for him to understand.
If the butler was being completely honest, he knew that Miss Croft hasn’t been well since coming back from Peru and if he was really being entirely truthful, Lara hadn’t been well in quite some time. Sometimes he wished it was within their relationship for him to know what she was going through, but never would she allow that. She wouldn’t allow that with even her closest allies.
In the silence of the manor as he’d do his daily tasks to upkeep the house. He’d find Lara in many places in the house, sometimes she wouldn’t acknowledge him simply in her own world, something she did even in her childhood; but he sometimes would find her in her tail ends of her anger, in thrown books and papers that were yanked off tables, broken objects that had met the mercy of her hands. It wasn’t often, as she was quite reserved but Winston knew something was bubbling underneath the surface of her stoicism.
There was a new habit forming however, maybe only in the last couple of weeks and it had started off fairly normal. He’d find her passed out on the floor in many different rooms and first it had been exhaustion. He knew that it was, because when he’d come to check on the younger Croft she wouldn’t be in her bed instead pottering around looking for information on her latest obsession.
Quietly Winston would take the needle off the record that had long ago finished its run, take Lara lightly (he noted that she had become lighter than he last remembered) and lay her down to rest on a couch with a blanket over her frame. This routine would continue, a cycle viciously unbroken as it started to become frequent.
But mixed in with the exhaustion of her research and her fanaticism, came what he feared.
Mr Maiava had dropped by earlier in the day, Winston had welcomed him in and as usual attended to his house keeping. Whatever had happened, it had left with some type of screaming match and a slam of a door.
As he approached Lara, she had blanked him and hurried up the stairs without a word. There were tears staining her cheeks as passed, he wished everything within to wipe them clear from her face himself but he let her go. He wished he hadn’t.
The rain tapped the glass as he walked the halls, he had heard her moving around the library for an hour or two now. He’d do intervals of walking by and listening for the sounds of any distress or any indication that he was needed.
Winston finally looked at his watch, it read, 2:21am. By now Miss Croft was usually asleep and slumped against a bookshelf with a book idly in her laps. It was one of the few times she had looked peaceful, those times were starting to become rare.
He entered the library, the fireplace was going. As per usual there were papers scattered everywhere, books askew with a couple of them having post-it’s for bookmarks with words he couldn’t understand.
A familiar tune played on the record player, a band in which he couldn’t name but could recognise by sound. An answer at his feet under his polished shoe, a sleeve. The Joshua Tree - U2.
This wasn’t Richard’s music, this was the younger Croft’s own choice of song. Which was odd considering he always heard the classical tunes, the ones that Richard used to own and would hum to as he studied for his next adventure.
“Miss Croft?” Winston called softly, he received no answer back. He walked to the middle of the room, and looked to the right.
That’s when he saw the younger woman slumped as she usually was against a bookshelf. But she wasn’t surrounded by books, but instead bottles of spirits and wines that had been untouched for a long time. There was spillage over her clothing, her signature leather jacket thrown to the side as she stayed in one of the tank tops he had recently bought her upon her request.
It simply made him remember the first few months of when Amelia had passed, Lara hadn’t seen its effects and he intended it to be that way. But Richard too had fallen into a habit of sorrows, drinking it away as much as he possibly could.
He wished he didn’t see the similarities as he stood there. Admittedly Winston froze, yes he was of service to Lara but he was also a friend, he always looked out for her. This was just heartbreaking as he had seen this girl grow up, he had seen her highs and lows. But he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to see something like this, especially so hauntingly familiar.
So he recollected himself and did the usual routine, he’d pick her up and place her down on the couch with a blanket draped over her. An addition to this routine was getting paracetamol and water and leaving it at the coffee table for her to have in the morning.
The next day, they didn’t acknowledge what had happened the night before. Instead, Lara made small talk and gathered herself to hide in her father’s study for what he presumed would be the rest of the day.
And this cycle was endless.
It wasn’t all the time, but it became more frequent.
Something that made a pit form in his stomach as she became even more exhausted, would ask for more food than ever and would stop visitors from coming over. Especially Mr Maiava, in which Winston would feel terrible about turning him away but it was her wishes and not his decision.
It was a dreary Saturday night when Winston had been told he could take the night off by Lara. In which he actually did, opting to stay in the servants house that might as well have been his house. No one else other than the temporary staff served the manor.
His loafers crunched against the gravel as he came to a stop at the dark mahogany door. It was starting to become battered from years of use, I need to repaint that. Though his back was too sore for such a task, perhaps Miss Croft could get someone to do it for him.
He rummaged around his pockets for his key, but was met with just the fabric instead of a metallic texture. Inside the house maybe? He remembered doing a bit of work in the kitchen awhile ago, he must’ve misplaced his keys.
With a sigh, a cloud formed when he exhaled into the cold of the night. He trekked back to the manor, in hopes of retrieving his keys. He really hoped they were there, because his memory had become a fickle thing lately. Usually, Miss Croft would remind me of these things.
Winston unlocked the back door that led into the greenhouse. He was bombarded with multiple different aroma’s but still he found a solace in the smells, as they reminded him of Amelia’s presence years ago. Miss Croft never comes down here, perhaps it’s too painful.
He opened the door with a creak, closing it softly behind him and started for the kitchen. The lights were off so he’d have to be careful of where he was going. Oftentimes he would walk in walls or display cases, he’s had a couple of knocks over doing so.
He blinked a couple of times when he saw the lights were on in the kitchen, had I not turned them off?
With a careful approach, he turned his head around the corner. There was nothing there but the island, fridge and cupboards that were closed and unbothered. But something in his gut told him someone had been in here, even so if they had, he would’ve gotten a warning from the home security systems he had installed upon Lara’s return.
As he stepped into the kitchen, he swore he could hear light breathing that came in scattered timings. But there then came a stench of vodka, something that followed Lara around on certain days of the week.
Winston’s heart may have jumped out of his chest cavity, something he probably should be avoiding at his age when he saw the familiar figure on the floor. “Miss Croft?”
He got down on his knees with semi difficulty, his joints too upright, and weak to be doing such an action but he didn’t care. Lara was faced down, her arms out as if she had tried to protect her face.
“Miss Croft?” Winston repeated, he gently shook her and was met with a groan. The woman had clearly been indulging in her new found habit as her words could be heard vaguely, some he could decipher but the rest were mumbles.
“Miss Croft, can you hear me?” The butler asked, hoping that the desperation couldn’t be heard in his voice. He had yet to see her head, which he assumed had been hit as Lara was quite close to the counter.
With that there was another groan, one that was accompanied by Lara turning herself over and holding a hand to her head with a pained expression. She looked hesitant to sit up, something he noted as he immediately opened the cupboard only within arms reach to get the first aid kit, he also grabbed a cloth that he knew had been cleaned recently.
“Where?” Lara questioned, she kept her hand to her head as she bit down on her lip. He looked over her face, seeing how her cheeks were flushed paired with a lack of tracking in her eyes. They lacked the focus that they usually had.
Winston hoped she hadn’t meant in general and instead what room she was in. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she had lost her memory from hitting her head from a fall when he should’ve been here to prevent it.
“You’re in the kitchen, Miss Croft.” Winston explained, he came to her side and kneeled on his knees. “I’m going to be lifting you up onto your back, but you need to tell me if it’s too painful.”
Lara still looked dazed, her eyes trying to focus on him as she kept her eyes upward. “‘Kay.”
Winston frowned, ignoring the statement and focusing on making her feel better by trying to tend to the wound that she was covering with her hand. Even in her state, she still hid her pain from him like it was the plague.
He began to lift her up, trying to elevate her enough to the point he could lay her against the island beside her. Lara didn’t complain, even if he could see her face cringing and her lip being bit down on as though she couldn’t cope with the pain but forced herself too.
With a gasp of relief she let herself be set against the island, Winston gently took her hand down from her where she had been obstructing his view.
The gash itself didn't look too bad, it had bled a bit of blood but it looked like it was superficial and something he could maintain without calling a doctor to come here.
“What had you been doing?” Winston inquired, he decided talking may take away from the pain in her head. She began to use sterile wipes to clean the wound in case dirt had found its way in. He had no clue how long Lara had been lying on the floor.
Her breath reeked of alcohol the closer he came. “The keys… The keys left on the um… Counter.”
Winston’s eyes widened ever so slightly as he began to realise that Lara had been intending to walk all the way to the servants house in this condition. Though it was quite endearing to hear that she was willing to do so, his heart still beat fast at the thought of her even traipsing that far.
“You looked tired… I thinked… Not word… I thou–… Thought. Yes, thought. That I’d brin’ them out to you." Lara slurred through her explanation but he understood what she was trying to say, she was also in between hissing as he dabbed at the wound with the wipe.
“Well that’s very kind of you, Miss Croft.” Winston
smiled, in which she returned it weakly. He quickly dampened a towel and began to clean around the wound, the blood stubbornly sticking to her face.
Lara would flinch at each touch of the towel, but still any type of pain she was feeling went unsaid. He then used the non wet side and began to dry it, the pain she was feeling becoming particularly noticeable in Lara when she clenched her jaw and kept her eyes tightly closed as he dried around her wound.
“Is this hurting you?” Winston tried, though he knew Lara would lie and tell him the opposite.
But alas, tonight was full of surprises; “Yes. But I know you… ‘ly helping.” She gestured to him with a hand that immediately went limp at her side when she had put it up.
The butler nodded and unwrapped the square patch that would soon go on the side of her head. He lined it up and gently pressed it onto the wound, smoothing it out at the edges so it would stay on. He would change it in the morning, but until now it would do.
“Alright, will we bring you to bed?” Winston asked, though it was mostly rhetorical. He wouldn’t let her sleep on a couch like this.
Lara grumbled at the idea of sleeping in her room, which Winston knew she didn’t occupy often due to the evident lack of human presence whenever he would clean her room in the east wing on the second floor.
She must’ve known she had no choice in the matter because she let herself lean on Winston as they made their way to the main entrance of the manor itself to go up the staircase. They didn’t pass much conversation, Lara not being very talkative as of late. He didn’t mind though as he didn’t know if he’d like to hear what was on her mind when she clearly wasn’t in a position to be lying. He’d rather hear it when she’s sober and trusting enough to tell him.
They reach the hall leading up to her room, the couch that was outside it was occupied by her laptop which was still on from what he had assumed was what she had originally been doing.
Winston pushed the door open to the room, which was left in the same condition it had been in since she last cleaned it. He flicked on the light when he entered, bringing Lara over to her bed and letting her lay down.
He rummaged through her drawers till he found a pyjamas pants and a jumper. He was sure Lara had always had the same type of pyjamas pants since she was little, they were all these flannel type ones and she had about 20 pairs of them.
Winston laid out the clothes for her to put on, in which Lara took them caressing her thumb over the materials. She seemed to be inspecting them, as though she had never seen them before. He was sure she hadn't worn pyjamas in weeks, always in her working clothes in which she would rotate around each outfit. Though he was unsure when was the last time she had changed her current outfit.
He briefly left the room, opting to give her space to change into her clothes.
Winston decided to occupy some time he would clear the couch and shut down Lara’s laptop so it wouldn’t go dead when she woke up in the morning.
When he went to close the laptop, he was met with an email being open on her screen. Winston wished he could’ve closed the laptop and be done with it, but he caught the name “Sam. and some of the puzzle he had been trying to solve was starting to become apparent.
The last time he had seen Ms Nishimura was before the pair were setting off for Yamatai. It was a few days before she and Lara were due to leave for their excursion and Lara had needed to look over some type of scripture her father had left behind, it was the first time in months since moving out that she had stepped foot in the manor much to Winston’s joy.
He could remember it as if it were yesterday, the two had been playing a game of cards in the kitchen with mugs of Cadbury’s hot cocoa (Lara had requested it for Ms Nishimura.) clutched in their hands.
He looked back fondly on the memory as it was the last time he had probably seen Lara happy, something again she hadn't been in years. But for a moment, it was there, a subtle amount of joy and astonishment he had never seen in her till meeting Ms Nishimura.
Winston couldn’t help it, he began to read the email with a bit of difficulty as his glasses were at his house.
From Sam Nishimura:
“Lara, I’ve been trying to contact you for weeks now.
Jonah told me that you aren’t talking to him and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s over me because he isn’t telling me what you guys argued about. I only wanted to become a part of your life again, you told me it’d be safe for me to come out of hiding when Trinity was gone. I thought when you gave me your old apartment over my parents. that it was a peace offering but apparently not.
I get that you probably don’t want to see me, we haven’t spoken in quite some time. Over the phone once or twice if we’re lucky. But I’m begging you to forgive Jonah, he’s torn up over this and he’s hurt. I can tell even if he won’t admit it.
Lara please reply to at least one of these, I know you’re seeing them you’re always on your laptop. If not to me, then to Jonah.”
Winston tried to absorb as much information as possible, though some of it was vague it was an answer to some of Lara's abnormal behaviour.
He knew some of the ordeals that happened after Yamatai, Ms Nishimura had been possessed by some type of higher power from the island. Despite being sent to a facility, Lara had eventually broken her out but since then the younger Croft had barely mentioned her in conversation. He put it down to them drifting apart and the other woman needing time away from the craziness of Lara’s life, but he had never thought it had affected Lara that much.
He supposed she never spoke about how she was feeling, perhaps that’s why he had no idea.
With a sigh he closed the laptop as he couldn’t invade her privacy anymore than he had. Winstone cleaned up the books that had fallen off the table and rearranged the papers that had been with them on the floor. Putting everything back neatly, he gently put the laptop on top of the book pile.
Winston knocked on her door, “Miss Croft, may I come in?”
There was a small, “Yeah.”
When he entered, Lara was in the same place she was thankfully in the pyjamas he had given her. The clothing she had been wearing sloppily flooded but an attempt had at least been made.
“Do you need me to get you anything?” Winston inquired, he went over to the window and shut the curtains so as to not let any light in for when she woke up in the morning.
“I dunno.” Lara admitted, she was fiddling with her fingers as though she couldn’t focus on anything else. She was slightly swaying on the bed, a sign that she was still somewhat intoxicated or perhaps dazed from hitting her head.
Winston sighed and nodded, though something was itching him to say something. To ask what had been said to her and what it meant. He needed to know why she was being like this, why she was self destructing and uprooting her life.
Winston sucked in a breath and decided to take the chair by the vanity and put it in front of her. “Lara, I’ve a question.”
Lara’s eyes widened at the use of her first name, the informality something she didn’t hear often. She must’ve clocked even in her dazzled state of mind that whatever he had to say was serious.
“Mm?” She hummed, though a bit nervously.
“I didn’t mean too… I didn’t mean to look at your email. It was on the screen when I went to close it, I was just…” Winston didn’t look her in the eye, the guilt was all too much. “I was just wondering what has happened between you and Mr Maiava.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Lara’s processing took a few moments longer than it would’ve usually. “Nothing. They’re both being… Dramatic.”
It didn’t sound convincing in the slightest and Winston wished the liquid of courage she had acquired downstairs admitting she was hurt still applied to this conversation.
“This habit you’ve acquired. It’s not going to do you any favours, incidents like this will keep occurring. So I need to know if I can do anything to help you as I promised your father I would protect you in all instances.”
Lara looked doe-eyed, a barrier of tears starting to form around her eyes. This was probably the most broken he had ever seen her.
“I just want–“
“You want to help me. I know.” Lara finished the sentence for him and he nodded, she blew out a breath shakily. As if she was thinking whatever it was over.
“Jonah told me I loved her.”
Winston took this information in though it didn’t really hold any type of value as he had no clue what she was referring to. This could be anyone, as Lara had, had many female friends over the years.
“Who?” Winston inquired, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. As unprofessional as it was, he needed to know. He had to know, he couldn’t see Lara like this any longer.
But tears began to fall from Lara’s eyes, she seemed incapable of keeping it in even after doing so for weeks. This seemed to be the last straw.
“Winston.” Lara beseeched, the tears rolling down her cheeks messily as the flush began to reappear. She looked absolutely terrified, something he couldn’t fathom as the younger Croft projected nothing but ferocity and confidence. “I… I think I’ve always…”
“You’ve always what?” Winston repeated, she downturned her eyes and couldn’t bear to look at him. What could this possibly be about?
“I think I’ve always liked women.”
There was a silence at the admission, Winston taking a moment to take it in. Had he been suspicious for quite a long time? Yes. Had he thought Lara would admit she was, not exactly.
For a very long time, he knew Lara had been different. The children in the private school had begun to notice too and at that Winston knew her life was going to be hard as she wasn’t like many girls her age, nor did she have any female role models growing up; aside from Ana whose name felt bitter on his tongue.
In knowing that Lara already had this difficulty of being socially isolated for her paternal status. His mind began to gravitate toward what other aspects of her life would be ridiculed, at the time he hadn’t thought about sexuality as some people didn’t really think about that till later in their teenhood.
It was particularly in her teens when he had begun to notice her lack of interest in men, especially when Camilla, Roth’s little girl, had been boy crazy for a long time when came around to the manor to visit. Lara would complain to him that she didn’t understand the appeal in which Winston gave her a fond laugh and told him she’d;
“Find the right man someday.”
God, he should probably give himself a smack for that.
“Say something. Please.” Lara begged, her voice cracked in so many places and her tears were starting to drop at a faster pace the longer he stayed in silence.
“My question still stands, Miss Croft; who?” Winston replied calmly. She scrutinised his face for any means of deception but was met with a small smile.
Lara wiped her tears away with the back of her harshly, her brunette hair sticking to her face. She gave a slight wince when she hit her patch that was at the side of her head.
“When Jonah came here, he… Uh… What’s the word, sorry I’m still kind of.” She gestured to herself and he nodded in acknowledgment that she was in fact partially steamed.
“He came to talk to me about something we addressed, that’s the word. Yes. Anyway, I never said who but he tried to convince me that I was in love with…” Lara looked too ashamed to finish her sentence and Winston in a moment let the puzzle piece fall into place, it kind of clicked in his head in a moment and he began to look back on certain memories in a slightly newer light as they flash in his mind. Oh, that makes more sense than he has realised.
“Ms Nishimura?”
The best descriptor of Lara in that moment was flying saucers as her eyes widened to an extreme he didn’t know was possible. She clamped her jaw shut and didn’t say a word, slightly confirming that he was in fact very right.
“Lara, she cares for you very much.” Winston said, but this didn’t bring any joy to Lara as she frowned deeply.
“I don't have the… ca–pa–city. Sorry, that. To… I don’t have enough love to give anyone. I’ve ruined her.” Lara’s shoulders were tense, as though she had been carrying this weight for years. She looked as though she wanted to shrivel up to never be seen again.
Winston shook his head, taking her hands gently in his own in which she startled easily but relaxed when he loosened his grip ever so slightly. “You are a remarkable young woman. Richard and Ameila would be incredibly proud of how you’ve turned out. I want you to know that Miss Nishimura loves you very much and I personally believe she always has. None of your friends used to bring you that much joy, not as much as she did.”
Lara chuckled shakily as tears began to pour once more, this time however her entire body began to rack with sobs as she fell forward into his arms. The last time he had held her like this might've been her fathers funeral.
And she continued to do so for a long time. The sobs wouldn’t stop, each one getting breathier and raw as at a certain point her voice seemed to give out. Her body shaking was the only indication that she was even crying anymore. Had this been what she was keeping inside for the last couple of weeks? Has she been this scared for a long time?
Winston was sure he was probably uneducated and somewhat confused on certain aspects of queerness, but he would do anything to make Lara’s life easier, again as he had promised Richard, in doing so he would learn and try to understand as much as he possibly could.
“I can’t tell her.”
“You’ll tell her. Someday, Miss Croft.” Winston affirmed, he broke away from the embrace and noted that his shirt was wet. But that didn’t matter now. He kept her by the shoulders, leading her back to her bed.
“And if I don’t?” Lara shimmed her way to the top of the bed, and drew back the covers. She slumped into the pillows and laid on her back to face him.
“You’ll do it.” Winston assured, he gave a gentle smile. He drew the vanity chair back to its original place and took a good look at Lara as he walked over.
“Im tired.” She said finally. Her eyelids blinked slowly.
“Then sleep. I’ll make you food for when you’re “hanging”, Miss Croft.” Winston airquoted, this gained a giggle from Lara who had started to drift even in her joy.
When he left her room and stayed in the room down the hall just in case he was needed. It had occurred to him that this wasn’t going to be an easy road for Lara, not that it had been in the first place.
There had been speculation around her sexuality for years, it was something of an interest to the tabloids who had tried to make out some type of romantic connection with her and some of her colleagues as Lara had always been known to be private.
And Winston decided he’d defend her to no end, he’d always be here for the youngest Croft as she had promised to Richard and Amelia.
The next morning, he walked the lengthy hallway to bring Lara paracetamol and a glass of water. However it alarmed him when he found the door to be open to the room, many images beginning to play in his head. It can’t have possibly been an intruder, the systems in this house were too advanced for something like that to happen.
But when he rounded the corner, the bed was neatly made and there was a note folded on top of the covers.
The room had been left as it had previously been, uninhabited. Lara had never occupied the space and it seemed she was choosing to do so again.
Where could she have gone?
Winston set the water and paracetamol down on the bedside table, deciding they weren’t important anymore. He took up the note that had been left for him, or so he assumed.
Winston, I’m so deeply sorry for my outburst last night. Thank you for the last few weeks, but I think I need to put a distance between myself and the house. I’ll be paying your salary while I’m away. I can’t tell you where I’m going, but I'll be back soon.
Love, Lara.
And once more, Winston was left alone.
Was it peculiar that he felt a pang in his heart? That it felt like a loss to not be within the presence of a member of the family he was supposed to serve, not only as an obligation but also as a friend.
Had it been the way he reacted?
Had he done something wrong?
God, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to figure it out either, he’d probably spend a millennium trying to decipher the archeologist as if she were one of her monoliths she couldn’t understand. A guilt gnawed at his heart.
I’m sorry, Richard. I really tried.