C h a p t e r O n e

Bella sat in the soft black leather passenger seat in her father's car, wringing her hands together nervously. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and her make-up was smudged, a long trail of eye-liner was stained across her right cheek. Even as she sat there, a salty tear fell from her watering eye which she hastened to wipe away – giving her the appearance of a panda.

She leaned her forehead against the cool window, enjoying the instant relief it gave to her raging headache as she breathed in deeply through her nose. After her yoga teacher having told her at least a thousand times, she knew it was always better to breathe through her mouth but she would rather her father didn't smell her alcohol tainted breath.

Bella swallowed, wishing she had a stick of bubblegum, or a mint – anything which would relieve her of the disgusting aftertaste of alcohol. Closing her eyes, she imagined the taste of a warm mocha latte from Starbucks and wished she had could have gotten the bus home rather than Charlie's silent driving.

In her pocket her phone started ringing, a loud chorus of 'I Kissed A Girl' filling the tense silence of the car, and Bella immediately regretted letting her friend play with her phone. Never again, she vowed silently.

Glancing at Charlie, she wondering what the chances were of him letting her answer her phone. Already, though he hadn't clarified it, she was pretty sure he was giving her the silent treatment – something she was secretly loving but Bella wondered whether taking the call from whoever was calling might just push him over the bridge. Determined to find out, she flipped open her mobile phone.

"Yello?" Bella asked, her favourite way of greeting someone on a phone. She wasn't quite sure who it was calling, and glanced at the caller ID to see it was an unknown number. Perhaps, Bella thought, Sam had given her number to people after he had changed her ringtone.

"Hi, is this Bella Swan?" The voice asked.

She sneaked a glance towards Charlie before answering. He was, despite the fact she had barely been talking for more than ten seconds, growing red in the face, the veins protruding out of his forehead – always a scary sign. Bella watched as his hands clenched around the steering wheel, his knuckles growing white while he glared furiously at the red light.

"Speaking," Bella answered sweetly, her desire to anger Charlie now as strong as her wish to find out who was the owner of the mysterious voice.

Beside her, the light glowed orange and Charlie quickly accelerated the car stalling. Growling under his breath as several cars beeped behind him, he began driving again.

In the background, Bella could swear she heard the rustling of paper and several hushed voices. Wondering whether she was on speaker phone, just as the person on the other line quietly shushed the voices, the mysterious stranger began speaking.

"I'm -"

But just exactly who the person was, Bella never found out. Instead, as they hit yet another red light, Charlie ripped the phone from her hand. Feeling rather like she was in some kind of PG gay drama, Charlie began speaking into the phone, "I'm sorry, but my daughter can't speak right now." Increasing her feeling of being some kind of troubled teen, he broke the phone in half as Bella looked at him in disbelief.

"What the hell? I was talking!" She screeched at him, staring at the wreckage of what had been her phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here you go!" He said cheerfully, handing her the two halves quickly as the lights glowed yellow again and he sped off.

"You just broke my phone in half." Bella said slowly, as if he was some kind of incompetent fool.

As they pulled up behind a silver jeep her father turned to look at her, "It's impolite to speak on a phone while in another's company."

"Excuse me?" Bella asked through gritted teeth.

It felt rather rich coming from the workaholic who had taken to carrying around a briefcase filled with all of the important court cases he had to study for.

It may have sounded rather stupid when she thought about it from an outsiders point of view, and Bella definitely felt like the scene belonged to one of the cheesy PG dramas she detested so much. For a split second she almost thought she was being punked - a conclusion most would jump to – Bella told herself soothingly, due to how scripted the words sounded but then it occurred to her as she glanced around wildly that there was no camera crew. Indeed ... she felt rather silly for thinking she would be important enough to be punked.

"I merely said it that it was impolite to speak on the phone while in another's company." Charlie raised his voice, speaking slowly as if she was deaf.

"I can hear for myself, thanks." Bella growled, staring at him through narrowed eyes.

They argued for the remainder of the drive, their raised voices echoing in the car oddly, and it was only when they pulled up at the Swan house did their bickering stop – Charlie rather red in the face, and Bella with her arms crossed angrily over her chest.

The Swan house was well known for being the largest for miles around. Black and white, and extremely historical – its history could be traced back for several centuries , well into the Victorian Era. With several acres of land around it, and the long sanded path leading up to it, no one who had seen it could deny it was one of the best houses in the world.

How it fell into their hands, however, was another story. One that was short, simple and ended rather quickly, though perhaps without the fairy-tale ending one might think – and wrongly - someone with a house like this would have.

But maybe, for another time.

As they drove along the path leading up to the house, Bella found herself hating just how long it was. The tense silence that seemed to have filled the car since their disagreement seemed to have reached the peak, and it had become a sound in itself – the only with the exception of the low purr of the engine which echoed oddly in the car.

Without warning, and without parking the car Charlie switched off the engine, their car sitting right in front of the Swan House. Swiftly, and in such a fluid moment it could have been planned, they both slammed their doors shut in unison and marched up the steps into their home.

Both seemed to have the same destination as they marched up the stairs, and through countless corridors – while keeping at least a metres width between them at all times – to enter the same room. The room which was occupied by Charlie's wife, by Bella's mother.

It had been a long time since Charlie had entered Renee's room, the last time had been the day before she had kicked him out, instructing him to stay in a bedroom on the floor above. Indeed it had even been a long time since they had spoken ... well ... argued.

Renee's bedroom was, what could only be described as a fourteen year old girly-girl's dream. The bed was pink, the walls were pink, the floors were pink. In fact everything in the room was pink with the exception of one small green doll which sat on one of the pink radiators, staring at Bella with its large glassy eyes, just visible beneath the green top hat.

Immediately, Bella recognised it. It was one of the dolls Renee had brought back from her tour of Europe, a token from Ireland. She had insisted on putting them in every bedroom, even the servants, telling them all it was to introduce culture in their lives. Bella however, felt that it had just made fear leprechauns.

Sitting in the centre of the bed was a rather short thin woman, with several rings, on every one of her stubby fingers, each ring encrusted with a different jewel. The woman sitting was wearing a flowing white dress, contrasting with her black nail varnish and an unpleasant smile marked her ugly face.

"Bella, darling." She stood up, kissing both Bella's cheeks – another gesture she had picked up while in Europe. "Charlie." She greeted, her voice instantly adopting a cold tone.

"Renee, I'm here to have a talk with you about our daughter. I think what our daughter needs is boarding school."