Yeah, I'm Robert Muchamoore but I've suddenly decided to give up writing books and write some fiction that I don't get paid for. Go figure.
This is my first CHERUB fan fiction so reviewers get cookies. Advice would be amazing.
:D Yellow Mouse:D xxx
Chapter 1- Players
Peabody Estate looked like a slab of grey slate stuck on the horizon. It was lit only by one failing light that flickered in the faint darkness of the ever busy London. Yells of booze- fuelled laughter chorused down the street muffled by the traffic zooming past the window of 'The Blue Cat'. Francesca Orchard tapped a staccato beat on her plain white china mug. She was sat, waiting, at the window seat of the café watching the grey raindrops make their way down the glass, gleaming with the headlights of the cars passing in the evening rush hour.
She sighed loudly, lost in the worlds of other people, where the hell was he?
"Will there be anything else, miss?" Francesca snapped out of her daydream and turned to face a sour faced waitress, hand on hip and a pencil behind her ear. She looked tired and harassed, the fine blonde hairs bordering her hairline were dark with sweat and she was fumbling around for her notebook. A much as Francesca hated the superior look plastered on the waitress' face, it was late and the greasy spoon was five minutes away from closing.
After a quick glance at her phone that lay on the table for any texts that she might have missed the first thirty six times she had looked Francesca slipped on her pumps and wrapped her coat around herself.
"No, I'm going now" Francesca pushed on the silver handle of the door, hearing the chime of the bell above her head. A boy had asked to meet up but had obviously bailed, Francesca wasn't expecting much but rejection seriously bugged her.
She debated whether to phone her mum or not, wrath of a middle aged cow or a cold. Francesca sighed once more. Opening up her phone she scrolled down her contact list and pressed the smooth indent on the centre button.
"Francesca?" A breathy voice answered.
"Bonjourno" Francesca replied caustiously.
"Where in God's name have you been?" Her mum growled.
"Pub"
"Really"
"Yep" Francesca could feel the anger in the silence that followed.
"... Mum?"
"Yes Francesca?"
"Could I have a lift please?" Francesca simpered. "...I know the number for Childline" she said as an after thought.
"Where are you?" a very tired sounding voice muttered back.
"The biggest brothel in town" Silence. Francesca gave up as she noticed her mascarra was running down her face and that she was shivering jerkily. "I'm at the fine restraunt, Le Chat Bleu" she muttered meekly.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes" the dial tone started ring as Francesca's loving parent hung up.