Disclaimer - I don't own twilight or any of its character. It belongs to Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Two
Bella
"So, umm, would you like a sandwich or something? I think I may have some left over pizza in the fridge." She shakes her head signalling no. I am feeling seriously uncomfortable.
We have been sat in my apartment for over five minutes now just impassively staring at each other. She seems to be a very quiet and reserved girl. I have been asking her questions trying to get some information, something that may help me track down her father, but the odd shake or nod of her head seems to be all she can muster up. Maybe I should just call the cops. They deal with this sort of thing right, missing children? Maybe I should call Charlie? He would definitely know what I should do. Good old Chief Police Swan of Forks. I know her surname is Cullen. I wonder how many Cullen's there are in Seattle; it doesn't sound like a very common name.
I'm going to ring Charlie. I rise from my seat about to make my way over to my bag to fish out my mobile when she speaks.
"You does painting. I likes to do painting but Tanya always says no. She says my paintings is no good." I turn around and look into her face, her big green eyes are shimmering with unshed tears. I heart actually hurts a little bit for this beautiful little creature whose confidence has clearly been shattered. Who is Tanya? Wait till I get my hands on her.
"I'll tell you what Daisy, how about you tell me a bit more about your Daddy so that we can find him and I'll let you do some painting?" Before the words have even finished leaving my lips she has jumped up out of the chair, her cheeks flush with excitement and joy about being allowed such a simple pleasure.
"What we gonna paint? Is it gonna be a picture or one of these things over here? Did you do this? Can I do one of these? Did you make it or did it come like this and you just painted it?" She was speaking so fast I barely had chance to register what she was saying, before I was again staring into her innocent gaze.
"That's a simple model that I made at college. Its made of paper-Mache. It's a little bit more complicated to do and you have to leave it to set and I'm not really sure we have enough time to do something like that today. Maybe we can do it another day?" I'm trying to be practical without upsetting her. Paper Mache does take a long time and is pretty messy.
"I am actually about to start working on something over here that I think you could really help me on. Come see." I lead her over to other side of my studio apartment to where a big empty white canvas lay on the floor.
"I'm thinking we can paint on here." I look down at her and she is just gazing at the canvas, her eyes wide in amazement.
"This is a really big bit of paper. Where did ya get it from?" She looks up at me quizzically before continuing, "I've never had any paper this big. Only normal size paper. I draw pictures sometimes."
"I got it from an art shop. This is actually a canvas. It's a bit like paper in that you can draw and paint on it but its stronger. It's specially designed for painting really."
"What we gonna paint?" I hadn't actually though this far ahead so I take a moment to ponder and search for ideas.
"The project I'm doing at the minute is all about colours and the way they mix. Its quite free-style really. Do you know what that means?" She shakes her head and her little auburn curls shake from side to side and bounce up and down. "It means we can pretty do anything we want as long as its bright and colourful. As long as we think its good art, then it good art."
I walk over to my desk to retrieve my wrap of paint brushes before going over to my store cupboard to retrieve a selection of acrylics. It is only now that I realise that a lot of the discomfort that I'm currently feeling is due to the fact that my clothes are soaking wet and its getting pretty damn cold in here. I look over towards Daisy and notice that her clothes are in an even worse state than mine. I think her dungarees were once pink although its hard to tell through the think layer of mud that seems to be coating her. I walk over to my closet and pull out some pyjama shorts that have an elastic waist with a drawstring and an oversized t-shirt.
"Hey Daisy. You're pretty wet and muddy. I have some spare clothes here if you want to change before we start painting. The bathroom is through there and there should be a stack of towels on the floor. Just leave your wet clothes on the floor and then I will put them in a bag for you later ok." She nervously accepts the clothes from me before running into the bathroom and shutting the door.
I stare at the door for a moment wondering how much more weird this day can get. I take this time to pull out the telephone directory and start searching for any listings under the name Cullen. Unfortunately, I have no such luck. Not a single entry under the name.
"Daisy can you tell me where your Dad works or maybe one of your grandparents or even Tanya? I really should let someone know where you are. They're probably really worried about you sweetheart!" I'm shouting through the door so she must be able to hear me, but other that the sound of her shuffling around and the rustling of clothes I hear nothing. Until the door opens, and she is once again making direct eye contact with her puppy-dog eyes that have the ability to make my heart melt.
"My dad is a doctor at the hospital. He helps people who are hurted. That's why he has to go to work lots and lots." She looks down at her shoes. "We can still do painting though right?"
"Of course we can sweetie. Let gets started."
We make our way back over to the canvas and I open up the tubes of paint and squirt a little bit of each colour on to a scrap of waste cardboard I keep especially for mixing up paint. It acts as my palette.
"I was thinking if maybe you pick the colour you want to use and put some on your brush, then pull you arm back, and just flick the brush at the canvas." I act out my instructions to her to demonstrate what I mean, and we both watch as the paint flies through the air and splatters on to the clean canvas. I hear Daisy suck in her breath and release it in a little gasp as she marvels at what I have done. Then ever so gentle she picks up a brush, covers it in red paint and mimics my actions, before looking towards me for some sort of confirmation that she hasn't misunderstood what she is meant to do. Its almost like she thinks she may get into trouble.
"That's great. You're a natural. I like to think of this as fun abstract art. It's gonna be the next big thing." She continues to just look at me before a wide smile spreads across her face and she giggles in delight, before getting to work on adding more colors.
Whilst she is distracted I really should start to track down her father. He works at the hospital and her surname is Cullen, thus everything logical points to him being Dr Cullen. I flick through the phone book once more before dialling the first listed hospital number.
Twenty minutes later, four different hospitals and a handful of snooty receptionists later, and I am on hold to speak to a Dr Cullen. I've now been on hold for at least 10 minutes despite conveying the urgency of the situation, but it would apparently seem that Dr Cullen is in no hurry. I'm beginning to get a bit agitated that its taking so long. I feel like I'm wasting time that I could be spending making sure Daisy has fun.
I'm rapping my fingernails at a furious pace on my kitchen table, a classic distraction technique. I hate waiting. I have no patience at all. I guess I am pretty nervous as well though. It has been about thirty-five minutes since I found Daisy, and who knows how long she was on her own before that. Her father must be frantic with worry. Even this Tanya woman, who I have discovered is the nanny and was watching Daisy today, must be worried despite the fact that she is a selfish and heartless cow. Well from what Daisy has told me, Tanya is selfish and heartless. I don't actually know this for a fact. Daisy hates her and from the sounds of it she hates Daisy right back. I don't like her either.
What if they have notified the police? I mean helping a little girl you found right outside you front door isn't illegal right?
"Hello, Dr Cullen speaking. How may I help you?" I'm so carried away in my thoughts and inner monologue ramblings that I'm caught off guard when he speaks. He sounds so charming. His words are so soft and gentle and seem to just wash over me leaving me feeling all warm and tingly.
"Is anyone there? I really don't have time for this." I need to talk. I need to stop fantasising about the owner of this voice and speak before he hangs up on me. Come on Bella you can do it. Just say something.
"Um, yes this is Bella Swan here." I manage to rasp out. I sounds terrible, not at all attractive.
"What can I do for you Miss Swan? Are you a patient or a relative?" He enquires and I once again find myself struggling to focus.
"I have your daughter Daisy."
A moment of deathly silence follows but when he does respond his voice is low and menacing and it take me a moment to realise why he has suddenly become so hostile.
"Look here you crazy bitch, if you so much as harm one hair on my child's head then when I find you I'm going to tear you limb for limb. You're going to be sorry for messing with me."
I am stunned into total silence. I can't believe he called my a bitch. He's not even giving me a chance to explain.
"What do you want? How much?" He enquires, and this is enough to snap be back to reality and kicks my inner fighter into gear.
"Now you listen here you rude dick, I admit that this conversation hasn't exactly gone the way I had hoped and my first statement about having your daughter didn't exactly come out right, but I can ensure you Sir that the way you just spoke to me is no way to speak to a lady. And I am a lady." I gasp in a big breathe of air before continuing. "I do have your daughter, here in my apartment, because I found her curled in a ball, in the pouring rain might I add, on my front door step. The selfish woman you employ to care for her left her in the park alone, so how dare you speak to me like that!"
I'm actually panting from the physical exertion of getting so worked up. Its not often that I have this sort of outburst, I'm not by nature a confrontational person, but there is only so much a girl can take. I have almost forgotten that Daisy is in the room and I most certainly didn't think of how she would react to my little outburst. I glance in her direction and see that she is sat crossed legged on my floor, as still as stone, staring at me.
"Give me you address. I'm coming straight over." His voice is still stern but I'm past the point of caring. Daisy is my main priority now. I rattle of my address and tell him that I will see him soon before hanging up and making my way over to her.
"Are you ok sweetie? I'm sorry that I shouted at you dad. We were just having a little disagreement but its all sorted now."
"My daddy always shouts. He's mean. Please say your still gonna be my friend! I only got two other friends. You can be my best friend please." I look down at her pleading face and then over at her chubby, paint-covered little fingers, two of which she has stuck up to emphasis her number of friends.
"Of course we can still be friends Daisy. Don't be sad. I'm going to speak to your dad when he gets here and see if we can't straighten this all out. Now lets carry on painting and see if we can get this done before he gets here."
This seems to pacify her and keep her happy for the minute and we both reach for the paintbrushes to continue our work. I, on the other hand, can't seem to fight off the feeling of dread that fills my stomach at the thought of Dr Cullen's imminent arrival.
Don't be so silly Bella. He's just one man. And really how bad can he be?