Note: The song used is "Broadway, Here I Come" from the NBC Television Series SMASH. It is used without permission and the author owns no rights to it.
AND YES - I know the Reichenbach Foreshadowing in the lyrics... tis' why I chose them.
This wasn't exactly how she expected to be spending the last week of summer vacation. To be completely honest; next to staying at home, this was the last thing she wanted to be doing. Moving to a new place was one thing. Moving out of your parent's home was one thing too. However, being sent away because one of your mum's is too blitzed to take care of you and the other was too 'busy' to bother (busy in this case, being code for: she gave up), was certainly another.
Looking down at her lap, she unfolded the email print out and read it over again
Dear Clara,
I am sorry to hear about everything that you have been going through. As much as I love my sister, and I do very much, I quite agree that she's reached a point where such measures are to be taken. While I wish for the best to happen, I understand that life doesn't always work out that way. I have been conversing with our parents and they have arranged for Harry to be sent to a rehabilitation center in Glasgow. I know you must do what is best for you, but it will be such a shame to no longer have you in our family.
As for your inquiry pertaining to Veronica, I discussed the matter with my flatmate and he seemed to hold no objections. True, he wasn't really paying attention - but that is his own fault. I will gladly take her for as long as it takes for life to settle down there.
Do not blame yourself, it's natural for children to rebel when great change is thrust upon them. Especially when the matter is as troublesome as yours is. I am sure that a change of scenery will be just what Veronica needs to get herself on track. I understand Harry was unsure about her safety in the city, but I promise you that no harm shall befall her whilst under my care. Besides, I haven't seen the tyke since she was four years old, it would be splendid to see her once more.
I have arranged for her to be on the 11 o'clock Shrewsbury to Newport train leaving Cynghordy Station on August 25th, she'll then transfer to the London Paddington at Swansea. I'll be at the Paddington Station at 5 o'clock to pick her up. Her printable ticket is in the attachment, give me a call sometime this week to arrange the delivery of her belongings.
As always best wishes,
J.H. Watson
"Tyke."
Her uncle spoke about her like she was five years old. Admittedly, she had been five years old the last she saw him, but that was no excuse. Worst of all, he called her 'Veronica'. Even at age five, she had always gone by the name Ronnie. She was a Ronnie all the way down to her very core. Her mums knew that, her friends knew that, even the men at the police station with whom she had become so well acquainted with in recent months knew this. Veronica Q. Watson-Meyler sounded priggish, and dealing with her mom's associates, and clients was all she needed to know that she did not wish to be that at all. Ronnie Quinn Meyler on the other hand, besides sounding a bit like a Batman villain, fit her more. It was more down-to-earth while still being unique enough to not be boring. Exactly what she strived for. Not that these last few months were the best examples of who she was or what she wanted to be. So much so that her parents, for once in complete agreement, decided to ship her from her home in Radbrook Green off six hours away in London indefinitely.
It was partially her own fault, she had made it fairly easy for them to get rid of her. Ronnie knew she had been doing stupid things, she had known while doing them that they were stupid. For some reason she did them anyways. Ronnie was completely aware of how much of a cliche she was, a rebellious teenager acting out because of her mommy issues. (Or in her case, her MommyxMommy issues)
"Attention passengers, we'll be arriving at Paddington Station in fifteen minutes. We ask all passengers to remain in their cars as we pull into the station and have their personal belongings ready on them. Have a good day and thank you for traveling with us."
Ronnie pulled the earbuds from her ears as she put her iPod, Cellphone and Book back into her bag. Her suitcase, that was neatly tucked away with the other luggage, Held enough to last her a couple weeks. The rest of her stuff was to be sent over near the end of September. The train began to slow as they crept into Paddington Station. She had been to London twice in her life. Once for a wedding and once for a family holiday, back when her family was still a family. While she may have known her way around Shrewsbury, London was bigger and a little more intimidating. In fact, stepping onto the platform, a tiny overwhelming wave hit her. With her suitcase in hand, she made her way to the lobby.
She saw it was 5:06pm as she pulled out her phone, she scrolled through the pictures until she found one of her uncle. She had saved it off a internet article a few days back. Afterall, Ronnie hadn't seen the man in over a decade - she couldn't remember a thing about his appearance. That had been how she found out about him and his lifestyle. Even in Shropshire, they had heard news of the internet phenomenon Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. At first, she had pushed it from her mind, not ever thinking that Sherlock's John and her Uncle John could possibly be the same man. If her uncle was moonlighting as a detective, she presumed somebody would have informed her. However, this apparently was not the case. At the very least, his flat wouldn't be boring all the time. Not if the reports were true, anyway.
Ronnie scanned the crowd, "Alright Uncle, where are you?" she murmured aloud to herself, prompting a few people to look at her curiously as she passed. For ten minutes she stood, looking around for a man who looked like the photo. No luck came her way. Feeling tired from her journey, she took a seat on a nearby bench and waited. One minute, Five minutes, ten minutes passed. Where is he? Ronnie pulled her iPod out and put the earbuds back in. Where was her uncle? He couldn't be that much longer, could he? Her eyelids became droopy as the music flooded her ears, and she tuned out the busy station.
I'm high above the city
I'm standing on the edge
The view from here is pretty
And I jump off the ledge
And now I'm falling baby through the sky
through the sky
I'm falling down baby through the sky
It's my calling baby
Don't you cry, don't you cry
I'm falling down through the sky...
"Miss?"
Ronnie stirred, slumped over the armrest of the bench, she heard a voice calling to her. "Hmmm?"
"er, Miss are you alright?"
She opened her eyes, seeing the dimlight station. Remembering where she was, Ronnie bolted up and began looking over her belongings. Everything seemed to be there. She turned to the old man standing in front of her. "I'm sorry, I must... I must have dozed off for a few minutes there. What time is it?"
"It's 9:45, miss."
"What?"
"9:45 pm, are you sure your alright miss? You look a bit off?"
"No... No I'll be alright, thank you." she said politely as he waved and went on his way. Only that was a lie. Pulling out her phone she saw the time flash at her. 9:45. Her uncle wasn't here, nor did know how to get to his home from here, or have a way to contact him. I might be in trouble...