Ok! Here's Ch. 2! Please enjoy!
Colin raised his glass to Amelia by way of wordless greeting. His green eyes flashed at her. She mutely greeted him back, hoping there was someone else of note to turn her attention to. There was no one, so she did what was considered rude. She simply walked past him and attempted to enter the kitchen. His voice stopped her short.
'Hey,' he said quietly, approaching her. His voice sent some sort of chill rolling over her shoulders and down her back. 'Have you heard anything from my brother?'
The question was innocent enough, but Amelia did not like it. She responded with a rather sharp 'No.'
'That's too bad. I haven't heard anything, either.' She heard him take a sip from his glass.
Hearing no further talk, Amelia walked ahead without looking back. Colin would have to have been some sort of idiot to not understand that Amelia disliked him. He did not need to know why, though. She thought it better he did not know.
The kitchen was filled with the light buzz of conversation. Amelia's mother called her over with her usual cheerful and loud voice. Amelia's father was beside her in a suit that somehow didn't seem correct on him.
'Amelia! Have you seen Colin around? We need a chat with him.'
'About business?' Her voice was icy, and her mother noticed. Amelia swallowed the cold words back. 'Ah, he's in the hall.'
Her mother got over the initial shock of her daughter's cold voice and thanked her before darting into the hall. Amelia heard her mother's high-pitched greeting.
Her father stared for a few seconds. 'Amelia, have you heard anything from Arthur?'
She shook her head in a deflated manner. Her shoulders tensed, turning to stone.
'I can't get my head around it. I know he let his family know he was Ok, but he could have told them where he was. Still…'
Amelia looked up.
'He was perhaps too young to handle such a company.'
'He would have had help. His dad arranged for that.'
'But still,' he poured himself a drink. 'Nineteen? Amelia, I know you said he wanted this, but perhaps he came to his senses.'
Amelia felt a childish temper rise within her. She wanted to stomp her foot against the kitchen tiles, but restrained herself. Her jaw tightened. She was not angry at her father specifically, rather the entire situation. She was partly angry at Arthur, but then she stopped being irritated at him. She slowed the racing and cursed thoughts enough to think of him in a softer manner. She then wanted to cry. Amelia instead looked up to her father and only nodded. 'Perhaps.'
He patted his daughter on the head, knowing her well. 'Be calm, Amelia.' He walked out of the room to talk with Colin.
She looked to the strangers in the kitchen. None of them looked to her. They clinked glasses and chatted lightly to one another. She was a ghost.
Arthur was going to take over the business, but then he realised that he was indeed much too young and inexperienced. He was nineteen. Who runs a company at that age? Who even rests high in the ranks of a company at that age? Amelia knew all this, but she also knew it was not in her boyfriend to run for it. That was not in his personality - nowhere even within the vicinity of his personality. That personality she loved so much.
'It will be tough, but I will do it.'
He had said it with such conviction and such passion. The tone could not be concealed within his throat.
'I know you can do it.'
Her conviction and belief could not be held within her throat. She truly believed he could do it. She refused to consider that he had run off. There was no way. There couldn't have been a way. Arthur himself could not have allowed it. It was like a rose in a lead box with no lid. It could not possibly get out on its own even by will of God. It needed to be physically taken out by someone else.
Arthur had been taken out. Taken out of some picture he was staining.
Amelia clenched her fists. A flash of Arthur sped past her vision. She felt as though she was toppling over and grabbed the corner of the workbench. Someone asked if she was Ok. She said she was. Then a flash of Colin sped past. She did not topple over. Instead she stood straight, declining an offer of a glass of water, and walked out of the kitchen. She brushed shoulders with the man she hated in the hall and headed up the stairs. She made to go into her room, but stopped, hand hovering over the door knob. She let her eyes wander so freely to the door of the spare room which held people's coats and other belongings.
Temptation dangled in front of her eyes. A lustrous ball of gold.
She glanced down the stairs, seeing nobody heading up. She listened. Nobody asked after her. The chat was firmly on light conversation and business.
She made her way to the door, opened it, thanking a god that it was a quiet door, and stepped in. She turned on the light and searched for Colin's coat. It was most certainly the dark brown one with the inner pockets sitting on the double bed in the middle of the room.
She stretched for it, listening for any approaching noise. After checking the coat-owner's name ('C. Kirkland'), she reached into the pockets, trying to find something… anything she could. What clues did Arthur's older brother hold? Amelia rummaged desperately, feeling a thin layer of sweat coat her skin. She listened as much as she could for any footsteps. Even if it wasn't Colin, digging into someone's coat was not exactly normal and free of suspicion.
There was nothing that she could hear, so she kept rummaging.
'I think I can do a good job for Father. I will take over the company.'
Amelia knew he was right. She knew he wouldn't have run away from this. He would not have handled it like this. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to think of some flaw in his character that would have prompted this kind of action. Indeed there were flaws – what kind of human being has no flaws? - but there were none that led to this.
She found something, a piece of paper crumpled slightly. She unravelled it and saw the inked characters:
ART: 51 C G. L
She studied it, but it meant nothing to her. Not at first, but then she realised something. 'ART'. It was not a pastime or a subject in school, this Amelia was sure of. The studious Colin did not partake in painting or much else creative, preferring to focus his mind on business and math-like subjects. She had remembered this in a remark by Arthur. She stared at the first three letters, trying to unravel them like a piece of wire.
Art… Art… Art…hur… Arthur…?
Her eyes widened, but they had little time to, as footsteps could be heard just outside the door. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. She took one last split-second look at the paper and shoved it back into the pocket before diving under the bed.
The door opened. It was Colin. Amelia shrank further under the bed, trying not to breathe. The coat of sweat on her skin got thicker.
Colin took his coat from the bed and there was a shuffling sound – the sound of fabric being brushed. Amelia risked a peek from under. Colin's back was turned and he brought a mobile phone from one of the pockets. She gritted her teeth, sorry she missed that.
He dialled a number and glanced to the door before placing it to his ear. He was as worried about approaching people as Amelia, it seemed. He began to talk in a hushed, but still rough voice. 'I told you not to try and ring me this evening…!'
There was a pause. Amelia could only just make out a voice on the other end of the line. It was a man, but not Arthur's voice. She could only catch a few small sounds and words. She could not form a coherent sentence from them.
'Well, don't be,' Colin said with a huff. 'You will keep him there until I say you can move, understand?'
There was another pause as he listened. Amelia's heart rate increased.
'I will prepare my negotiations for a few days. Two weeks at the absolute tops – '
There was a shrill reply that Amelia could not fully catch.
' – Shut it! What am I paying you for?'
The next reply was softer.
'Good. Now, I will call you back. They will be expecting me downstairs.'
He hung up and shoved the phone back into the pocket it came from. He took a deep breath as though he was going underwater and left the room.
Amelia waited a couple of minutes before emerging, shaking. She looked at the coat and grabbed it, her actions quick and desperate. She opened his phone and cursed when she realised she needed a password to get in to the main menu. She tried a few words, but none worked. She cursed again and placed the phone back in the pocket.
Amelia had never felt so elated and yet so deflated at the same time. She felt a few tears of helplessness rise, but she managed to force them back. Before she left the room, she memorised the only remotely hopeful thing in the coat: 'ART: 51 C G. L'.
She was going to find out what happened to him. It was the most determined goal Amelia Jones had ever set for herself.
Phew… I'm currently in Spain, and writing in the heat is hard work…
Let me know what you think~
I'll update as soon as I can~
Until next time! Thank you!
