He told me that the villa had been looked after by his family for generations, and that the salesman had sent him here to my service. He had British origin, since his forefather was a servant of the Hargreaves'. But since they vanished, they could not go back to England, and had no choice but stay here. They had been faithful servants and had worked for the Hargreaves for a very long time.

'But one thing I need to ask.' He said.

'What?' I asked.

'Why were you lying outside? Wait. Did you even know that I carried you here?' He said.

I gasped. It was not a dream after all. I had actually seen the old man. Obviously, I can't tell anyone about it. Everyone will think I'm crazy. What will I say- I saw a ghost? No, that would just embarrass me. Plus I can't let my parents know about it. They would get a good opportunity to call me back home.

So I decided to do what was best- change the topic.

'And one thing I need to ask too. What is your name?' I asked him.

He laughed and after a long pause said, 'Liam.'

'I'm Sarah. Sarah Siddique.'

He was good in looks, definitely. Tall, handsome, blue eyes, fair complexion. His hair was not exactly black- it had a golden tint to it. Definitely not my type. Plus, he just looked after the house. That was it. 

I realised I was getting late for work. So I got up immediately and got ready to go to my work. I had to make a good impression, since it would be my first day. And I couldn't let yesterday's sleepless night fatigue my charisma. That was sarcasm, by the way.

Liam made me cornflakes and soon I was in my car. He was weird, wasn't he? I mean, he suddenly comes out of nowhere and says he is the caretaker? Maybe yes, maybe no. Or maybe I am just overthinking. Maybe I should quietly drive. But I am quiet, right? I mean, I am talking to myself. Uggh! I am so stupid.

Anyways, I reached the clinic- St. James. It was more of a small clinic where people with basic common diseases could come for a regular check-up. 

The receptionist gave me her widest smile. She was a middle-aged woman, in her mid-30s, I guessed. She wore rimless spectacles that gave her a sharp and unfriendly look. Hence she smiled to compensate for her face, as if just to notify us that she wasn't what her face showed her to be. I was soon walking towards my room, which, to my surprise was occupied.

By a guy.

He turned to look at me, and smiled.

I was awestruck. I was dumb-founded, the state in which I don't always be. But he, yes, he, was so perfect. I mean, how can one be so inhumanly beautiful? Is this the charisma of this place or something?

Or, maybe he is an Anglo-Indian too. Of course.

He stood up. His perfect features included his deep ocean blue eyes-wait, why does everyone seem to have them here?- along with his tall, slender, attractive body, his straight, perfect nose and not to forget his proportional, kissable lips. I couldn't take my eyes off him. It took me some time to come out of his trance and figure out what he was saying.

'I'm so sorry I offended you.' I heard him say.

I yelled, 'Offended me? Oh no! You made my day- I mean,' I gasped and paused. He had already heard it. I laughed, and so did he. I whispered, trying to cover up, 'I mean, you could help me understand the procedures and stuff.'

'It is just the same as any other hospital. You are from Delhi and have got a working experience too, right? It won't be a problem for you. And as for this cubicle, you have to share this one with me.'

Wow. So he'd got an accent as well. And let me tell you, it was very English. And his honey-voice. It was killing me bit by bit. This guy's definitely got something.

He looked at me, waiting for an answer. He raised an eyebrow, and widened his eyes.

'Um, yeah, thanks.' I said, feeling half dizzy. Whenever I see cute guys, I feel dizzy. I mean the whole world around me begins to spin and.. basically- I become nervous.

'-and there are a lot of patients here. Sometimes its more than you can ever guess. I mean this small town has more population that we guess.' 

I hadn't realised that all this time he had been talking to me. I just nodded in response as soon as I realised.

'Hey, so where are you living?' He asked.

'Me? The Hargreaves' Residence.' I said. 

'You're kidding me, right? I mean, people say that place is haunted.' He laughed.

'And do you believe all that?' I asked.

'I am a doctor,' He paused. 'Wait, what is your name? We forgot to ask each other our names!' 

'I am James Hiddleston. Nice to meet you.'

'Yeah, nice to meet you too. I'm Sarah Siddique.'

We shook hands. But I had a question in my mind.

'Are there always so many Anglo-Indians here often?' I asked.

'So you figured it out. Yeah, maybe. My Dad's English. My Mom's Indian but she's dead.' He said, emotionless, like a stone.

'I am sorry.' I said.

'Oh, not that I remember her and stuff. I was very small. But Anglo- Indians are not that often. Did you see someone else too who's-'

I nodded and replied, 'Yeah, I did in fact. At my villa.'

'That place is haunted. People say they have seen a lot of stuff in there. Like a man running around with a knife.'

This caught my interest. I looked up at him. His face darkened.

'And it is said that,' he came closer and continued, 'that the residents of the house were murdered and buried there by the man with the knife.' 

I looked at him, my face white and nervous. I don't believe in these kind of things, but now I had to, since I had seen the old man for myself.

He suddenly burst out laughing. 'Do you want me to continue with that? You should have looked at your face.' He said, amidst his laughter. After a few moments, he got exhausted of laughing. He said he began to have a major stomach ache due to laughing so hard. 

'Not funny.' I snapped, in my defense.

'I would like to visit it personally though. I have never been in there.'

We were quiet for a few moments, after which patients came streaming in into our little cubicle and we both became busy, preoccupied with our patients- asking children to open their mouths and take deep breaths. I always liked to check others' heartbeats. That was the only thing that made me feel alive and thankful to God for giving a wonderful life to us all. Heartbeats were something which had always caught my curiosity- as a child and even now. I wrote names of medicines I still remembered memorising during my college years. The pen's nib made swift sounds as it rubbed with the paper and I could hear James' pen busy too.

I took a break soon, only to realise that it was not too soon. I had been working for three hours at a stretch. So I decided to take a break. I went to the canteen to get something for myself.

As I stood in queue, someone tapped me. I looked behind.

'First day, eh?' He asked.