Hello lovely readers! Thank you so much for all the support and new and old followers, its so exciting that you're all enjoying this as much as I do! Percy loves the appreciation too!
Not sure where this story is going to take me yet, so look forward to some curveballs. If you have any suggestions for anything you'd like to see let me know, I will see what I can do! :)
Chapter 2 – Getting on with Life
November 5th 2005 - Aged 18
Bonfire night. I was really excited to see the fireworks. My flat mates and I had planned to go up to Battersea park for the gathering there. A simple text conversation changed my plans and changed my life.
It was lunchtime; we, my flat mates Charlie, Alex and I were all sat in the college canteen having a break. It had been a crazy morning. Charlie was devouring a baked potato, for someone so tiny she could pack away a lot of food. Alex was demurely eating a salad, that girl was stunning, but worried far too much about everything. I was being incredibly healthy and eating a brownie with a large cup of tea. I'd had a chocolate craving for the moment I'd woken up, so any food not covered in chocolate was instantly dismissed. We sat in one of the only spots on the canteen to get phone signal, which was fortuitous as my phone pinged. I flipped it open with a smile.
Dinner? Cocktails? Fireworks on the Thames? Can I tempt you out to play? JM
Yes, you can tempt me. P x
Meet me at Green Park station at six. JM
I agreed you could tempt, I didn't say I was coming. ;) P x
How is that playing fair? JM
I never said I played fair. Is there a particular dress code? I don't want to die of cold or turn up in paint-covered jeans... P x
I thought you weren't coming? Besides, I'd never let you die. You look stunning in anything. Dress code is formal. JM
I thought it over, sounds like a perfect night. I know you wouldn't and flattery will get you brownie points. I'm intrigued as to where we're going...but I know you won't tell me. See you at six. P x
Brownie points, that sounds promising. No, I'm not telling you. I'm sure you'll work it out though. Until later. JM
My smile grew bigger and bigger with each text. We'd already been on two dates; they literally ran back to back. We spent Halloween together during the day, I went out with friends in the evening. Jim met me the next morning and took me to a Day of the Dead celebration. He was the perfect gentleman; he never pushed for anything more than flirty banter and the odd kiss, but I may have freely given more than a few kisses, especially when I had to get home. He was very kind to me with my hangover too; he greeted me with strong coffee and a bacon sandwich. Since our dates we'd texted everyday. Something about Jim pulled me in; I wanted to be with him. It was too soon to start falling for him...right? So in under a week we were going on date number three.
"What's got you smiling so much?" Charlie asked. She always noticed my mood changes quickly. She flashed me a cheeky grin.
"I've got a date tonight. Thus, I need to go shopping. So rain check on fireworks tonight, sorry." I answered happily, but I did feel bad that I was letting my friends down. I never let a guy come between my friends and I.
"Ooh, is this the mystery man who you went out with after Halloween and who keeps texting you?" Alex chimed in.
"Yes and yes." I grinned back. I looked at my watch it was already two. I needed to get home and start getting ready. Time was running away today.
"I've got to and find a dress to wear for tonight and then transform myself into a date that isn't a paint covered mess!"
"Have fun and use protection!" Charlie catcalled with a sly grin. I may have sent her a rude hand gesture in return. Charlie's crude suggestion might have sent some ideas popping into my mind.
It was a prefect autumn day, crisp, cold and with beautifully golden sunshine making the coloured and falling leaves shine and glow brightly. I walked into Wimbledon and hopped onto the number 93 bus up to the Village. The Village had a selection of higher end fashion boutiques, don't get me wrong, I've found some amazing pieces on the high street or if time allowed I'd make something, but time wasn't on my side today.
I did have a backing of money behind me. I didn't use it when my friends from college were around; it was for emergencies or unexpected formal occasions. For each little job I'd done, Mycroft paid me. I saved each cheque up for rainy days. Also Mycroft paid the rent on my flat and was covering my tuition fees. It barely made a dent in Mycroft's account, but it still made me feel guilty. I'd have happily taken a loan out like every other student, but was just given a look at that suggestion. Anyway, back to dress buying.
I thought back to Jim's comment I'd work out where we were going, so Green Park. What's near, Buckingham Palace, Pall Mall, Harrods, The Ritz...oh. Okay. Now the dress, Jim's favourite colour is green. Let's pull out all the stops. I scoured the designer shops and boutiques and found nothing that really caught my eye. I was ready to give up when I spotted a little vintage shop. In the window they had the most glorious 1940s green gown. I went inside the dark little shop and enquired about the dress. The woman who owned the shop was an eclectic character. She looked like a glittering praying mantis with huge glasses magnifying her eyes. She sat stooped over her knitting. The shop's atmosphere was heavily perfumed with patchouli incense. The woman looked at me, she inspected me.
"I know what you need." Was all she said. The old woman, who was far sprightlier than I gave her credit for, sprang up and started taking down the mannequin in the window; she carefully removed the green dress and handed it to me.
"Thank you, how did you know?" I asked, I hadn't said a word to the woman yet.
"Sometimes you just know these things. I was waiting for the right person. You, my dear, are the right person, you'll knock him dead." She grinned and ushered me towards a changing room.
I looked at the dress; it was the perfect shade of emerald green and made for fine silk. Standing next to this dress in my paint-covered jeans and beaten up old converse seemed wrong. I sighed, undressed and carefully put on the most perfect dress. It fit like a glove. I opened the changing room curtain and stood back form the mirror, examining myself. I felt beautiful.
"I knew you were the right girl for this dress." The woman said surely, looking over the glasses.
"It's amazing." I smiled back.
I changed back into my ratty college clothes and took the dress to the counter to pay. In the end the dress only cost a hundred pounds, apparently, as I was the right girl, I could have it for less. I glanced the real price tag and it read £800. I simply smiled and decided to walk home; it would only take twenty minutes.
When I got back to my flat the beauty regime started, I needed to transform myself from a teenage art student to a sophisticated young woman meeting her ideal man. God, I really was falling for him already…
The date was perfect, we laughed and flirted. Everything went just how you imagine it should; it was like living in a movie. Jim held me close, to keep me warm and safe, as we watched the fireworks and was the prefect gentleman. As the evening turned to night, I knew I was in love with James Moriarty. He'd literally swept me off my feet. He'd stolen my heart. That night I went home with him; I gave him my body and soul and fell further in love with him.
I woke up with a start. I wasn't sure how I felt reliving that memory it was bittersweet. Every emotion and feeling and touch had felt so real. I needed to move on. In the morning I would phone my lawyer and start divorce proceedings. I needed my life back. I also needed to find somewhere to live. Twenty-six, a soon to be divorcée and practically homeless, simply fabulous.
Being caught unawares is not something that Jim was used to. Being caught unawares and attacked was rarer still. Being caught unawares and beaten up in his own home was totally unique. Yet, now he sat on the floor of a rather dismantled and ruined office with a more than just a black eye. Luckily or unluckily Sebastian had entered the house not long after his beating. Moran helped him up and got him to a hospital. Moriarty had sustained a black eye, a fractured cheekbone, with two broken ribs on his left side and four bruised ribs on his right. Three broken fingers on his left hand and various bruises and swelling across his face, torso, back and arms. He looked a mess. Stitches marred his normally handsome face. The pain didn't seem to affect him; he pushed through the physical pain, his broken heart taken over. He knew he'd made the biggest mistake of his life and he had no idea how to fix it.
He'd made sure no one at the hospital phoned Percy; even if she was his next of kin. He didn't want her seeing him like this.
Moran was pleased, he'd watched the event unfold, he couldn't have planned it better himself. Maybe allying with Mycroft Holmes wouldn't be such a bad idea after all? What really made Moran's day was a call he overheard from Jim's lawyer, apparently Percy wanted a divorce. It was too good to be true! Victory was so sweet.
I phoned my lawyer and arranged a meeting about applying for divorce. Apparently it was more straightforward than I believed especially as I had grounds for divorce for Jim's infidelity. It was a numbing and surreal process, but I could feel something in me break free and something I'd lost felt like it had been replaced. Maybe I'd find myself again and discover who I really was.
I had to move out of Mycroft's town house. He was driving me insane. I couldn't escape him. Everywhere I went he was at work and home whenever I wanted peace and quiet and not some lurking spectre that over analysed my every move I had to disappear to the other side of London for some respite.
I started house hunting. It was necessary, scary and exciting. I decided I was hungry enough for lunch and went to Angelo's, the tapas is amazing. I sat searching through adds in the paper, not finding anything I could bear to spend money on, it was either too big and thus expensive for me on my own or it was too small and scummy for me to be comfortable. My other option was a house share…no. I was not living with strangers.
I wasn't getting anywhere, so I decided cake was my only solace. I am actually slightly hooked on cake; it's partly why I run most mornings, so I can indulge my love of junk food, baked goods and chocolate.
Angelo brought me out an extra large piece of chocolate cake with a pot of tea and I thanked him.
"What's wrong with my bella Percy today? You're not smiling." Angelo commented, his odd accent of Italian and cockney shining through.
"I can't find anywhere to live." I sighed
"I think I can help you there my dear. I need to sell the flat upstairs pronto. It needs a little love, but it's a home." Angelo offered.
"Could I have a look at it?" I asked.
"Of course, of course. Finish your meal and then we'll look."
I finished up my lunch and caught Angelo's eye. He refused to let me pay for lunch and took me upstairs to view the flat. It was small, but perfect for one person. The narrow stairs led into an open plan living room that was rather large leading to a tiny but fully equipped kitchen. There was a large double bedroom and bathroom leading off the living room. Best of all it had a deep bay window in the living room, I could always see myself curled up there reading. The walls were a foul avocado green and the little furniture that was in the flat had moth holes and smelt a little mouldy. The whole place needed a good clean. I loved it; it felt like fate, project to keep my busy and a new home with only new memories to make.
"So what do you think?" Angelo asked. "I know it needs some work and that the furniture needs replacing
"It's perfect." I smiled.
"The bathroom needs ripping out and the kitchen, but it's cheap…"
"Angelo, I love it. I'll take it. Is cash okay?"
"What?"
"I'll buy it. Can I pay you in cash?"
"Are you sure?"
"Oh yes. It's exactly what I need."
"Did you say cash?"
"Yeah, tomorrow okay?"
"You don't even know the asking price."
"It's not a problem, but our of interest what is it?"
"One hundred and fifty thousand?" Angelo asked quietly. For Central London, it was an absolute steal. That and I could empty one of my bank accounts, close it, the account Jim opened for me when we got together; the perfect ending to that whole messy chapter.
"If you're sure. Cash, really?"
"Yes and yes. I'll bring the money over around lunchtime."
"Okay. Welcome to you're new home bella Percy."
"Thank you Angelo, you've literally saved my life."
"Glad to be of service." Angelo smiled warmly. I kissed his cheek and practically skipped back to Mycroft's townhouse. Life was on the up.
"What's got you so peppy?" Mycroft asked cynically.
"I've just found the perfect flat and project to keep me clean and busy." I beamed.
"You're moving out?" He asked again, still not convinced and I think a hint of disappointment.
"I need to go out and prove to myself I can live on my own, I'm an adult and I need to behave like one." I replied honestly. Although it sounded like I was still convincing myself.
"Are you sure?" He questioned, as though testing my resolve. His hawk-like stare scanning my features for any his of hesitation. His doubt only served to strengthen my need for independence to prove it to myself and to him.
"Yes, I really need to do this. I'm buying the flat tomorrow and I will be doing it up and making it my home. I've never lived on my own; I've always had you or mum and dad or Jim with me, even my college friends. I'm twenty-six, if I can't stand on my own two feet now, then I never will." I blurted.
"As long as you're sure. If you need anything you know where I am." Mycroft smiled weakly.
"Is that Mycroft for 'I'll miss you'?" I smiled back.
"No, it's a reassurance if you decide you want or need any help." He replied, still as stoic as ever, but I could read him, I knew he was slightly dismayed.
"I'll miss you too Mycroft." I said quietly resting my head on his shoulder.
"Of course you will." He chuckled.
"Very funny. You do have good taste; you can help me choose what to furnish the house with. I'm starting with what's in storage." I smirked.
"Well I did buy you most of your furniture, its fitting." Mycroft said. His body language finally relaxing and the man who'd been a second father and brother to me that had feelings and got sleepy on Sunday afternoons appeared.
"Actually that's true, even the stuff I, um, recovered was mostly bought by you too, well except my piano, but I can't part with that, no matter how many memories are attached to it."
"You're doing remarkably well. I was worried I'd have weeks of you crying at every tip and turn."
"Give me some credit Myc, I'm not that much of a girl!"
"No, you're not and you never have been."
"Exactly. I realised wallowing and getting hammered all the time wasn't going to make it easier. I won't lie, it hurts so, so, much, but I am still a functioning human being and this happens to people everyday all over the world, I'm not some special case."
"That's a very mature attitude to take. You're far wiser than I give you credit for."
"I learnt from the British Government himself." I replied playfully.
"I suppose you did, that and its not a family trait to despair publically."
"No, I suppose not." I laughed darkly, this family definitely didn't do public emotion, but my parents did though. I'd always been taught to feel.
"I'm filing for a divorce. I'm…I'm leaving Jim…for good."
"If that's what you feel is best."
"I think so, I'm sorry if the fallout causes any trouble, but I will do maximum damage control."
"There is no need to worry, we've managed the situation before and we will again."
"Thank you Myc." I smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. "I better get planning!" I beamed and bounced away up to my bedroom.
I did bounce back to my bedroom, but once the door was closed my smile fell. I was scared and nervous about my new life. Up to this point I'd always had someone at my side, walking to path with me, but now I was alone. In fact I was facing the world alone for the first time. I hadn't been single for eight years, not that I can't cope, but I'd become accustomed to having to share my life with. I hadn't really slept properly in weeks, I was so used to the warm feeling of a body next to me. I'd fallen asleep in the arms of the same man for so long and woken up to him to, I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. Even when we'd spent time apart we, I, always knew we'd be coming back together.
Honestly, even surrounded by people at work and at home with Mycroft, I'm lonely. I miss Jim. I am so deeply hurt by his words and actions, and I'm embarrassed by the way I behaved too, but I miss him and the comfort I have taken in him since I was no more than a child.
As much as I missed the man I'd loved and married, I thought about our relationship, I truly reflected on it. We'd fallen for each other so quickly, our relationship fuelled by passion and the challenge of one another. We always fought for dominance over one another, trying to tame each other's wild personalities. I thought about the furniture I'd packed. Most of the pieces in my old home had been bought and chosen by Jim, he knew our combined tastes well, but in my hasty removal I realised there were only handful of pieces that were mine, although they had been purchased by Mycroft. The only piece I took was my piano, Jim had bought that for me as a wedding gift, and however I felt now, and it was one of the most wonderful gifts I'd ever received. Most of what I'd taken was my clothes and personal effects.
So much of our relationship had been to please Jim, to keep him by my side. I won't lie, I used my body to keep him with me and the fact that I lost our baby, regardless of if Jim wanted children or not, it was another short coming in my character. I would never trap James in a loveless marriage, I loved him and I know for a time he reciprocated my feelings. Perhaps we'd both be better off without each other, it was a destructive and dangerous relationship, even if I have many happy memories.
My phone dinging broke my reverie. I looked at the screen, I had an E-mail, and I opened it. The message was confirmation that the divorce papers would be ready in two weeks. This floored me. A contradiction, but even though I'd applied for the separation a part of me perhaps hoped that the idea of it was enough to actually separate us forever. At least there were no children to embroil in the mess, I thought ruefully. It was real and happening, I would sign the papers and send them to Jim and we'd be separated. I didn't want much; he could have the houses and money and the masses of stuff we'd had. . All I wanted was my car and to remove all of my remaining possessions.
So that was it, the first step to my changing life. I sighed heavily. Time to move on. I grabbed my iPad and started looking at paint colours, I had to focus on myself and keep looking ahead, so paint samples and soft furnishings. I wanted a home filled with colour and books and music.
Three weeks later…
I had my very own dream home. I had set a meeting with Angelo and paid him in cash, with a little extra to cover the constant stream of free food. I stripped, gutted and cleaned my little piece of heaven. I did as much of the DIY myself, I did get some help refitting the bathroom and kitchen and an electrician to check the wiring, but otherwise all the lifting, furniture building, painting was my own work. I made cushions and curtains and added them to some of my existing soft furnishings. I'll admit I had help getting the piano into the flat and my purple chaise, but the movers were coming anyway.
By throwing myself into such a different project I focused and stopped having time to worry about life. I'd go to work, come to the flat work until I was too tired to do anymore. Go back to Mycroft's and sleep and then do it all over again. The weekends were dedicated to getting everything finished and organising what I wanted taken out of storage.
I paid good money to get things fitted and finished quickly. I was surprised I got everything I wanted in such a short space of time, but I wasn't about to complain. Mycroft had actually helped me get all my books shelved; we had the same shelving system. He also bought me a beautiful woollen rung to go on my sofa. He knew me far too well.
Sorting through my clothes had been a bigger job than I had anticipated. I had collected far too many garments, bags and shoes over the last eight years. It was time for a sort out. I kept some favourites and all my formal attire, it was so expensive and I adored it all, Mycroft agreed to house them for me. On the other hand, my regular clothes, there was just masses of it. I spent an entire weekend sorting through my clothes and stuff; in the end I had six bin liners of clothes, three of shoes and twelve bags to donate to Charity. Finally everything fit into my double wardrobe neatly, I could find everything and I declared and 'One in, One out' policy.
Today was moving day. I packed the last of the clothes and random debris from Mycroft's town house and got a taxi to my flat. Even though I knew what it looked like, I was still excited a nervous. I paid the cabbie, unlock my front door and made my way inside. I was so glad I had been able to pay for the flat upfront, my trust fund was practically empty, but all I had to do was pay my bills and buy some food and travel. I just had to start cashing in my pay cheques. Independence was a wonderful feeling.
I was met with smell of flowers and fresh paint. The whole experience of working on and making the flat mine had been a wonderful catharsis. Oddly enough the piano only reminded me of happy times and was one of the few pieces from my old life I'd kept. I felt normal and wonderful.
I came up the narrow stairs and opened my little front door. To my right I hung my coat and toed off my pink Dr. Martin boots. On my left was the beginning of my wall of books, only separated by the bay window, which was my hidey-hole for reading. Straight ahead of my was my living room, a large plush purple velvet chaise and coffee table, all surrounded by floor to ceiling books shelves, my piano nestled in the corner. Behind the little coat cupboard was my office area and some storage. Next to my office is my little kitchen decked out in sea colours with hints of silver and jet black. There is an open plan breakfast bar and my armchair dining area. Two leather wingbacks opposite sides of a lovely warn wooden table. Opposite the kitchen is my bedroom and the en-suite bathroom. The bathroom is small and decorated in a grey purple with butterflies adding the splash of colour on the bright shower curtain. My bedroom is lime green and white with accents of silver, purple and black on the soft furnishings. My gorgeous wrought iron four-poster bed covered in pillows and soft bedding. My wardrobe and vanity table are at the foot of my bed. The bright colours are contained, the books and ornaments lining the walls of the living space creating the colour and character. I chose light wooden floors throughout. That's my flat in a nutshell. Small, full and cosy. Just like I wanted.
I was home. I was warm and safe. All I had to do was start making happy memories.
