(A/N): Hello, all!
Here I present you with the second installment of Every Fairytale.
(yay?)
This entire chapter probably seems incredibly far fetched, and I apologise for that. But hey, this is fanfiction after all. Isn't all of it far fetched?
Disclaimer: I think it's clear that I don't own much of anything here.
Thirty minutes later (thank you, Birmingham rush hour) I find myself trotting into my house.
I was exhausted as could be, yet I was glowing with excitement to explore the files of a con man. I loved the crime of conning – it was simply so much more creative than, say, a bank robbery or a shooting. Conning took skill and utter intelligence. A well crafted mind could produce the most believable and perfectly schemed cons. And I loved that.
I hurriedly changed into a pair of fuzzy sleeping flannels, and grabbed a random pajama top to accompany the pants. The outfit clashed and for the second time today, I could care less about committing a fashion offense.
I piled myself into the fluffy unmade bed, crime files in hand whilst I shoved my largely framed glasses onto my face.
Once again, I scanned the title and traced my index finger along the outer edge of the file before sighing lightly and opening it.
"Sibyl," I heard my mum call.
"Yes, mum?"
"I'm going to run to Bournville Lane to get some takeaway for supper. What would you like?"
"Sweet and sour chicken is good," I replied, offering my mother a small smile.
"Alright, love. I'll be back in 'bout thirty," she said, examining the takeaway menu that she insisted upon keeping in the house before lightly tapping Bournville Lane's number into her mobile phone and walking off to order.
I opened the file, on the first page was a paper print, printed on it was the same title as that on the folder, but in a courier text.
Flipping to the next page, I found a nearly blank paper minus the small paragraph that read,
"this file holds all legally-publishable records regarding the life and criminal offenses of James Scott Everett as of December 31st, 2012."
James Scott Everett? I was floored upon reading his last name.
I shared a last name with this con man. If that wasn't creepy, I wasn't sure what was.
Again, I turned the page and I don't believe anything could have prepared me for the picture that rested in the top right corner of the page.
That was a man I had seen many times before – there was nothing new about his face. It was all familiar.
He, James Scott Everett was Andrew Scott. James Moriarty.
My heart was beating so quickly, I could have sworn you might hear it from the kitchen. My skin had no doubt paled, and my mind was whirling.
Was I hallucinating? It would make sense, I knew when I saw the file that a certain part of me was hoping to find that the criminal from TV was real.
But now, I wasn't so sure that was what I wanted.
With a shaking hand, I pushed a strip of hair that had fallen to my eyes back to the top of my head and began reading.
"James Scott Everett, widely known as James Moriarty or Andrew Scott is a professional 'con man' but is commonly known to be an actor. He has kept his legal identity and 'con career' sealed from the public outside of the courtroom (as of December, 2012)
Born James Scott Thomas Turrett, Everett was born to a wealthy family on the 21st of October, 1976 to Ruth Elisa (Leon) Turrett and James Thomas Turret of Limerick, Ireland.
He was born at Saint Munchin's Maternity Hospital (also known as Limerick Regional Maternity Hospital).
He was educated at Milford Grange Primary School in Castleroy, County Limerick before being removed from the public education system and being home educated through secondary school. At age 17, Everett began attending University of Limerick, where he studied Psychology and Sociology for two semesters before moving to Birmingham, England where he studied Psychology and Criminology at Newman University for one semester.
During the summer between his attendance at University of Limerick and Newman University, Everett used the criminal technique of conning on two women with which to pay for his education at Newman University. The crimes were not documented, and the names of the victims are unknown to date.
After committing the criminal act, he changed his legal name from James Scott Thomas Turrett to James Scott Everett in a successful attempt to estrange himself from his parents.
He was then accepted on short notice to Neman University with the aid of many fraudulent files regarding the identity of "James Scott Everett." It is yet unknown who created the fraudulent records, be it Everett or an accomplice.
On his winter holiday (1995), Everett (aged 19 at the time) met and became romantically linked to 21 year old Analisa Margaret Kent"
No.
No.
I had no doubt in my mind that I was hallucinating. There was no way this was real.
My rational side argued that there were likely many Analisa Margaret Kent's in the world, and at least one could be the same age as my mother. The probability of my mother being involved with this con man was very small. Barely existent.
My irrational side, however, argued that all of the facts could only add up to what I was suspecting.
Confused and concerned for my mental health, I stood from my bed and rushed to the loo, where I repeatedly splashed cool water over my face. I dried my damp skin with a towel before staring myself down in the mirror.
This was too much for me to handle. I assumed that it was a sick prank that some of my fellow employees had pulled.
For a good ten minutes I remained there, staring at my reflection until I heard the creak of the front door.
I opened the door slowly and walked out to the kitchen to greet my mother who smiled warmly at me before placing the takeaway food onto the kitchen island.
"Hey," I greeted, forcing a smile despite my internal terror, "here, I'll get the forks."
I opened a kitchen drawer and extracted two forks from the silverware organiser and placed one next to my mother while keeping the other in my hand.
"You ready to eat, then?" my mother asked.
"I'm starving," I lied. Twenty minutes ago, that statement had been true. However, that was before I read the most startling news of my life.
For minutes, we sat in silence. The only words spoken were my mum's praises over how "exquisite" her meal was.
"Sibyl? You seem quiet, dear. Is something wrong?"
"I'm good," I squeaked.
"I can tell you're not," she replied as her blue eyes bored into my very soul.
"I read something startling today," I began nervously, "I'm not quite sure what to take of it."
"Oh?" she prodded, "Elaborate, if you will."
"I found a file, yeah? That big fat one I was holding when you came into my room," I said, waiting for my mother to nod me on.
She nodded slowly before shoveling a mouthful of yellow rice into her mouth.
"I found that while organising at the library. It was about a con man," I paused, hoping my mother would take my hint. "See, he shared our last name. I didn't think much of it. But I read one very disturbing piece and I stopped reading. I locked myself in the washroom until you got home."
"Locked yourself in the washroom? Sibyl! You never get scared, what's going on?"
"Mum, you were in that file," I choked, "It scared me! I was so confused that I didn't bother to read on."
"What? Why?" she asked curiously.
"It said you and him – the criminal," I began, "were 'romantically linked'," I whispered, waving my fingers in the air to make air quotes.
My mum was seemingly amused, but tried to hide her grin as she proceeded to ask me his name "Yeah? What was this con man slash ex boyfriend of mine named?"
At that point, I was convinced this entire thing was a prank.
"James Scott Everett."
My mother's face dropped, and so did her heart, I assumed. If she was anything like I right then, she had quite the lump in her throat as well.
"What's that name mean to you, mum?" I asked, silently begging for her to tell me it was a prank or a mistake.
"A con man?" she asked quietly, more to herself than to me.
Without a word, I stood up from the stool I had been perched on and trudged to my bedroom, returning with the file.
I opened it up to the picture and handed it to my mother whose eyes were glossed over.
"I haven't seen him in sixteen years, but I loved him, Sibyl," she said.
"Mum. Is he my father?"
"Let's go sit on the couch. I have a story to tell you," she replied.
