A.N. So here is my response to Spyfest week 4!
...Oh come on, a little more enthusiasm?
I was originally going to write about Why Jack Is Called Jack, but that was all rather depressing and two paragraphs in I decided it was a bunch of pretentious angst (nothing wrong with that, except it just didn't suit Jack). So you get this instead. You're welcome.
And of course, I'm sure you're all dying to know that I don't own Alex Rider. Or Jack. Or Tori Amos, whose face adorns the cover for this story, because much as I liked Alicia Silverstone, Jack is a redhead, and that's final.
Read and review!
Jack had left America in a blaze of fury with two suitcases of luggage and very little planning. Usually, her mum would fuss over her before the trip, making sure that she had everything and that she knew exactly where she was going, but this time was different. The two Starbright women were no longer speaking, and Mr Starbright refused to take sides.
Seeking to get as far away from home as possible, Jack had submitted an application for the UCL and worked frantically to earn a scholarship. Along with the money she was saving from her Saturday job in a fast food restaurant, she would be able to afford the tuition fees and transport. Accommodation might have been a problem, but she managed to find a place working as an au pair for a family with three small children.
At the last minute, disaster struck. The family cancelled her appointment, saying they wanted a French girl who could teach the children a foreign language and work full time rather than having to fit it in around studying for a degree. Jack was quite prepared to give it all up and make amends with her mother, having mostly forgiven her already, but then another argument blew up and she got on the plane anyway, clinging onto the hope that everything would work out in the end.
She spent the first three days in the cheapest boarding house she could find, outside the city, commuting every day to London Victoria station. But it was exhausting and expensive, and she knew she couldn't keep it up for a whole year, so from her very first evening in England she was skimming through newspapers for suitable advertisements and sending in applications for any which held the slightest bit of potential. All were met with rejection. Finally, in the evening of the third day, she met with some good fortune.
Live-in nanny wanted. Food and board provided. Services not required during school hours.
The address wasn't far from the University. She immediately rushed to the nearest tube station and got on a train going in the right direction, praying that this would finally be the breakthrough she needed.
She managed to find the right street by asking two people for directions - the first was a German tourist who stared at her blankly - and walked along the houses looking for the right address, until she realised that she was on the wrong side of the road. She didn't notice the man with the boring business suit and the bruise on his face, and in her rush to cross she nearly fell over the bonnet of his car, which was crawling quietly along the street.
He stopped at once and rolled down the window. Since she was expecting him to yell at her, she was taken aback by his polite tone.
"Are you alright there, miss?"
"Er - yes, I'm fine. I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," she stammered.
He smiled and waved her across. Gratefully hurrying to the other side, she quickly found the address she was looking for. It was only as she was standing on the doorstep that she realised how flushed and dishevelled she must appear. She took a moment to smooth down her skirt and push her hair out of her face before lifting a hand to knock - only to stare as the door was flung open before she could even touch it.
Immediately, she plastered a smile on her face and whipped her hand down, expecting it to be her potential employer. But then she had yet another surprise, as a small, blond boy barrelled past her without even looking at her.
"Ian!"
She turned to watch as the kid greeted the man from the car with a hug. She thought he might be the boy's father, but found it odd that he was addressed by his first name, so she was willing to be wrong. Embarrassment grew on her as she realised that he must live here, and consequently that she had already made an idiot of herself in front of the man she had hoped to impress. Part of her was tempted to say "wrong address, sorry" and leave, but she knew she had to at least try, even though she was convinced that he wouldn't want to employ her now he knew what a klutz she was.
The man called Ian picked up the boy and came up the steps towards her. He smiled, though there was something wary in his gaze.
"Hello again, miss. How may I help you?"
She held out a hand for him to shake, before realising that he was holding the child. Blushing, she drew it back, and instead held up the newspaper with the ad that she was still clutching.
"I, er, saw you wanted a nanny?"
She waited for the rejection, expecting him to dismiss her with a sneer, or at best an apologetic comment. What she wasn't expecting was his next words.
"Why don't you come in and we'll discuss it over a cup of tea? Or coffee, if you'd rather."
Awkwardly, she followed him in and waited silently for the kettle to boil whilst the boy (Alex, apparently) discussed his history project on the Romans with Ian. Then they retreated to the living room - Ian with tea, Alex with juice and herself with a mug of instant, decaffeinated coffee. She sighed but thanked him and tried not to show her disappointment, sitting next to Alex on the sofa whilst Ian took the armchair.
"So," he began once they were settled. "Tell me why you want the job."
And that was what she did. She outlined the argument with her parents, the cancelled au pair job, and her situation as a student desperately trying to find accommodation. He listened without interrupting, occasionally nodding.
"-then I saw the advert and it looked ideal, so I came straight here," she finished.
"Can you cook and clean?"
"Yes - though I can only make meals that take less than ten minutes," she added reluctantly.
"Fine. Can you be here tomorrow morning, at seven?"
"Sure."
"Excellent. I have to leave on a business trip for an indeterminate length of time, so you have to take my nephew to and from school. He goes to Ashburnham Primary School, but don't worry, he knows the way."
He was going on a trip tomorrow? No wonder he was willing to overlook her lack of qualifications and unprofessional arrival. They sorted out a few more details, such as money (she would be responsible for grocery shopping) and then she took her leave, returning to the uncomfortable mattress and grimy showers of the hostel for the last time.
The next morning saw her up before dawn to catch the train, yawning through a cup of Costa coffee, the caffeine very much left in this time. She arrived at the Rider's house just as Ian was about to leave, in time to catch some hurried instructions ("The spare key's in the bowl by the door. Make breakfast for Alex. My study is locked; neither you nor he is allowed in there.") Then he was gone, and as the reverberations from the door shutting died away, Jack was left standing in the silence with the dust motes swirling around her. She forced herself to smile and entered the kitchen, opening all the cupboards as she tried to work out where everything was. The fridge was painfully bare of food, but she found half a loaf of bread and filled the toaster.
"Are you getting up, Alex?" she called, trying to ignore the discomfort of breaking the stillness. She waited anxiously, like that tense bit in a movie where the protagonist calls, "Is anyone there?" into a deserted settlement. Then there was a series of thuds as the boy crossed the landing and came downstairs, and she relaxed.
"Where's Ian?" was the first thing the boy asked as he joined her.
"He left already, honey," she told him.
Alex scowled. "He didn't say goodbye."
"I'm sure he meant to. He just… didn't have time." She realised how stupid the excuse was as soon as she said it.
"He never has time anymore."
The toast popped up at that moment, saving her from replying. It was just as well. How was she meant to comfort him? She didn't know. She grabbed a plate from the cupboard under the counter.
"Is marmalade ok?"
He nodded without looking at her, sitting at the kitchen table and swinging his legs.
She gave him the toast and a glass of milk and stood there awkwardly.
"Do you have everything you need for school? Should I make a packed lunch or something?"
"I got it ready last night," he said. She was slightly taken aback by his independence, but it dawned on her that Ian might not be the most attentive of guardians.
Alex finished his breakfast and washed his hands without her needing to remind him, then retreated to his bedroom. She didn't see him again until he came down and told her that they needed to leave for school.
They walked together mostly in silence. Jack tried to draw the boy into conversation but he gave short answers and showed no interest, so she gave up. She dropped him off at the gate and went straight to her lecture.
They soon settled into a routine. Alex was remarkably self-sufficient for a seven-year-old, and Jack had the uncomfortable suspicion that if Ian had not managed to find a nanny in time, he would have managed just fine on his own. Indeed, he seemed to resent her being there, partly because he felt he didn't need her and partly because it might mean Ian would think it was ok to be away more than usual.
Jack found the long evenings at the house in Chelsea very lonely. She felt like she should be out with some of her new friends enjoying the London nightlife and having a few drinks, but she was tied down thanks to Alex, and he wasn't exactly sociable. At least it meant she was keeping up with her studies.
Finally, on Saturday when she was faced with an entire day of only his company, she decided that she was fed up with him moping and set about drawing him out of his bad mood.
"Do you have any plans for today?" she asked over the boiled eggs they were having for breakfast. She'd put some extra effort in today and cut his toast into soldiers.
"No," he said.
"We should do something. Do you want to go to the park?"
He shrugged unenthusiastically.
"Come on. We can play soccer if you like."
"Football," he corrected, but ran upstairs a few moments later and came back down with a scuffed black-and-white ball.
Jack stacked the plates by the sink to wash later and she let Alex lead the way to Hyde Park. They used their coats to mark out a goal and took turns defending and trying to score. After a while, they were both out of breath and laughed at every fresh splash of mud. It felt timeless to Jack, like she could stay out there all day… but of course, the weather didn't quite agree.
The rain started out lightly, a misty drizzle that warned people to hurry indoors. Jack stopped the game and bundled Alex back into his coat. The grass turned slippery as they struggled back to the path. The wind rose and whipped her hair into an even greater tangle than it usually was. A couple of streets away from the Rider house, it turned into a downpour and drenched them in seconds.
"Race you!" Alex yelled, already running.
Jack grinned and gave chase, splashing through the puddles that were rapidly forming on the pavement. Alex was quick and had a head start but she was older and her legs were longer and so she managed to draw level with him, but purposefully avoided overtaking. She didn't try to match his final burst of speed so he reached the door a second before her. Then they tumbled inside and she took charge, ordering him out of his wet things and sending him upstairs for a hot shower.
She was also soaked, but she set about clearing up a bit and boiling some water for hot chocolate. She didn't hear the front door open thanks to the noise of the rain and the song she was humming, but she jumped and dropped the spoon she was holding when somebody came into the kitchen behind her.
Wheeling around, she and Ian Rider stared at each other. Jack took in his weary expression and the sling on his arm, whilst growing ever conscious of her own bedraggled appearance and the water dripping from her hair onto the floor behind her. Ian seemed to notice it too, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I took Alex to the park," she told him, feeling a need to explain. "Do you, er, want some hot chocolate?"
He accepted, looking bemused. Alex came down when she finished making it and greeted his uncle with enthusiasm, his previous resentment forgotten.
Jack left to tidy herself up, but paused with one foot on the stairs as she heard Ian's question to Alex.
"Have you been happy here with Jack?"
"...She's nice really." The words drifted back to her and she smiled.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
