Frank Bryce vaguely heard the words' ordinary old man '. He turned his head and glanced at Harry and Ron.
His eyes were bright, which looked a little out of place with his old face. Frank had not shaved cleanly, and there was a scar on his left cheek that was not too long. His lips were thin, and he looked difficult to get along with.
Ron and Harry avoided Frank's gaze. Only Anna stared into Frank's eyes.
Could a face determine a person's identity?
Obviously not. Frank Bryce was a good man, but he had bad luck. He had become the young Voldemort's scapegoat and lived in Little Hangerton with the crime of being a murderer. He lived in a small wooden hut behind the Liddell Villa. When it rained, he would stay in the hut and read a book while rubbing his sore feet. When it was not raining, he would go to the Liddell Villa to tend to the garden.
Frank's life was monotonous, but sometimes there was something new. It was all thanks to the boys who came to the garden to cause trouble. They provided Frank with one of the few opportunities to interact with people other than going to the convenience store to buy things.
The boys would sometimes bring gifts, like rotten eggs or sharp stones. They would break down the fence with a smirk, or break into the Liddell Family's old house. Then, when Frank came to chase them away, they would leave on their bicycles screaming and kicking up a fuss. Sometimes, they would even politely greet Frank, "The murderer is here!
How is the murderer today? "
Frank did not seem to like the children very much. He waved his walking stick and yelled at them, chasing them away again and again. But the boys' mischief was not all bad. They made Frank feel that he still existed, and that he was not a ghost floating around the old house.
Why did Frank not leave Little Hangerton?
Many people had asked this question, and Frank himself had asked himself. He stood in the garden with his walking stick, looking at the dilapidated Liddell Villa in front of him.
Guilt. Frank stayed here out of guilt, even though he was not the murderer of the Liddell Family. Of course, Frank's stubbornness was part of the reason. Also, he did not have any other relatives. He had lived here for decades and had long regarded this place as his home.
The villa used to be beautiful, the prettiest house in Little Hangerton. But now, the roof tiles were broken, and the vines were so thick that they almost covered the entire house. The windows, which the maid used to clean three times a day, were now covered in dust, or had been smashed by the naughty children with stones.
Liddell Cottage was old, and so was Frank, but he always remembered the afternoon when he had limped to Little Hangerton, where his mother had grown up, and which he had always wanted to visit after the war. By that time he had been turned down for a thousand jobs, because no one wanted a half-crippled lad.
Frank wandered about Little Hangerton. Many people noticed him, and, seeing his travel-stained appearance, offered him friendly offers of a drink, which he accepted gladly. "How cordial the people of Little Hangerton are," thought Frank, until, unwittingly, he fell into a stupor, and began to shout with his glass in his hand --
"You don't know, but I've been to the battlefield … I've killed people …" This sentence frightened the surrounding people. Everyone looked at each other in dismay. In the end, the bar owner threw the drunk Frank into the alley next to the pub.
In the starry sky, Frank woke up in a daze. The first thing he saw was this. He thought he was dreaming. Then, a hand reached over. It was a rich looking young master. Frank squinted his eyes, grabbed his hand, and struggled to stand up.
"Thank you." He saw the handsome black-haired man smiling. "Young master, I'm not some lady who needs help." Frank frowned. "Don't mistake me for someone else."
The black-haired man smiled even more happily. "Of course, of course, Mr. Frank Bryce. I heard your name at the bar. You're an excellent soldier."
"Not anymore, sir." Frank looked at the black-haired man's attire. He was wearing an exquisite brown suit, expensive leather shoes, and a silver watch on his wrist. Frank had noticed it when he reached out his hand earlier. "So, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Then I'll get straight to the point. I hope you can become the bodyguard of Liddell Villa." The black-haired man patted Frank's shoulder. "Mr. Frank, I heard that you've killed someone before?" Before Frank could answer, he continued, "That's great!
This is exactly what I need — a ruthless man! "
Frank picked up the package that had been thrown to the side and pointed to his leg. "I appreciate your kindness, but my leg doesn't allow me to take on such a bodyguard job. Good night, sir."
The black-haired man was a little anxious. He grabbed Frank's arm, but Frank instinctively pushed him away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, Mr. Frank!"
The man waved his hand to indicate that he meant no harm. He looked around and lowered his voice like a thief. "I really need a bodyguard, sir. I don't need you to do anything. You just have to stay at my house!"
Frank didn't say anything, but his eyes told the black-haired man that he needed to say the reason. "I'm very ashamed. A few days ago, I met a beautiful lady. It was just an ordinary game, but what was not ordinary was that after drinking a glass of hard liquor, everything happened. After that, I found out that she had seven brothers!"
"Seven!"
The black-haired man's eyes widened. "That lady forced me to get married. Otherwise, she would tell her seven brothers to beat me up!"
"You should get married, sir. It's the best way to avoid bad things from happening." Frank sighed.
But the black-haired man shook his head. "Mr. Frank, I'm still too young. I can still enjoy it for a while. Marriage is a grave. Once you're married, you're already half a step into the grave. Oh, and children!
The child is a little devil sent by Satan to torture you, spend your money, and make you half dead from anger — "
"If you don't get married, there won't be such bad things," the black-haired man said matter-of-factly, but Frank did not quite agree with his words. The veteran had always wanted to have a happy family, but unfortunately, conditions did not allow it.
He stared at the black-haired man. "Look, the world is so unfair. Lucky people who have conditions never know how to cherish them."
"So you'll agree, right?
Mr. Frank, uh, you can live in the wooden house behind the villa. If you don't have a place to live, it's best to start work today. "The black-haired man walked to the entrance of the alley and looked a little nervous." I just saw that woman's three brothers in the bar. God, they're so muscular. One punch and I'll be gone. I won't be able to enjoy the beautiful world anymore! "
"Okay, sir, I agree." Frank was silent for a moment, then nodded. He had no place to go. Now that such an easy job had come to him, he was lucky.
He looked at the black-haired man, who was very happy. "I've killed people, sir."
"Yes, I know. That's what I like about you." The black-haired man nodded with satisfaction. "You've been on the battlefield, killed people, and you even carry a machine gun!
Listen, that's a deterrent. That woman's... brothers would never dare to come to our door! "
"I don't have a machine gun, sir. At most, I have a pistol." Frank smiled helplessly. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
"Why should I be afraid?
Will you kill me? "
"No." Frank shook his head.
"Then you're an ordinary person." The black-haired man smiled again. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you my name." He politely held out his hand. "Tom Riddle. Yes, the most ordinary Tom. But I think the other Toms might not be as rich as me."
"Frank Bryce." Frank Bryce shook Old Tom's hand. From then on, his life in Little Hangerton began.
Frank had no other relatives. He regarded Old Tom as his brother and friend. Sometimes, when he was cleaning the garden, he would think of putting a swing in a corner for Old Tom's children to play on — if they decided to get married and have children.
Frank noticed that Old Tom often sat in the garden in a daze, shaking his head from time to time. The maid secretly told Frank that Old Tom had eloped with a wild woman a few years ago. Then, he suddenly ran back one day and collapsed at the door of the villa. He was unconscious for two days.
"When the young master woke up, he thought it was the spring of 1925. He even asked if Mary in our town had replied to his letter. God, we were so scared because it was already 1926!
Mary was already married and was about to have a child! "
The maidservant clicked her tongue as she recounted the incident. "Master Liddell specially invited some psychiatrist from Great Hampton. That old man said that Young Master had selectively forgotten some bad memories." The maidservant nodded. "Indeed, I can imagine what kind of torture that must have been. How could Young Master not think things through and elope with that woman? Really …"
"That woman?" Frank moved a stool and sat down.
"Yes, that woman. Her face was pale and her hair was messy. I always felt that there was something wrong with her eyes. She kept glancing to both sides. You know, the kind that is a little scary..."
The maid tried to imitate but failed. She pursed her lips. "I don't know what that woman's name is. Oh, it could be Merope or Melissa. I don't know what Young Master saw in her. Maybe she was a witch and used witchcraft to bewitch Young Master. I would like to ask her for advice..."
The maid's words were getting more and more ridiculous. Frank did not pay much attention to the woman she mentioned. He was more willing to believe that Old Tom had been kidnapped and escaped on his own. He did not believe that the maid was talking about a strange love story.
"Young Master is slowly recovering. He is now the playboy he used to be. But sometimes he sits there and shakes his head, as if he is trying to remember something." The maid laughed. "Maybe he is thinking about the name of the beautiful girl he met at the bar yesterday. Or maybe he is thinking about whether he has forgotten to write a letter to a girl."
Old Tom was extremely insecure. Frank soon discovered this. He was very concerned about the strange things that happened in town. For example, a three-eyed frog appeared in someone's house, a broom flew in the sky, a baby girl was born with the ability to talk... These things made Old Tom very nervous.
In reality, the Three-eyed Frog only had a tumor on the side of its eye. The flying broom had been hung on the roof by a naughty child. As for the talking baby girl, which child wouldn't be able to say 'wow' when they were born?
After living in Little Hangerton for a while, Frank discovered that no girl in town had seven brothers. He felt that he understood that Old Tom was guarding against other dangers. Perhaps it was the person who had kidnapped him. This made Frank determined that he had to fulfill his duty as a bodyguard. He could not stay in the garden as a gardener.
The peaceful days lasted until 1943. On that ordinary summer day, Frank was woken up by the heat in the middle of the night. He rolled out of bed and went to the wooden table to pour himself a glass of water. His eyes looked through the window, and in a daze, Frank saw a teenager standing outside the wooden fence in the garden.
The boy had black hair and pale skin. The moonlight shone on him, making the boy look unreal. "He looks angry." Frank drank the water, still in a daze. He thought that he was still dreaming. "He looks so much like Tom," he muttered. Then he turned around and went back to sleep.
In the morning, Frank woke up as usual. He washed up and heard a knock on the door. Puzzled, he opened the door and was then restrained by the police.
"Tell me, Frank Bryce. Did you kill him?"
The light shone on Frank's face. He blinked, feeling that he was dreaming again.