Disclaimer: I do not own any Twilight characters that pop up in this story. I've just borrow them for the sake of not having to invent my own :P Although I have taken the time to come up with the original characters written.
The reviews have been wonderful, thank you very much. I want to apologise in advance for any delays between updates. I am just starting a really stressful exam period and there's a lot going on so unfortunately writing has to take a back seat. Hope you can forgive me :)
I thumbed the piece of paper that my mother had given me when she prompted me to call Mr. Cullen. Apparently they were the only family in the area that weren't listed in the phonebook, which made me wonder just how much effort Mother had put in to contact Mr Masen in the first place.
I'd been looking at the crisply written number for the past fifteen minutes and yet my fingers had not gotten any closer to the dial ring. I was never usually of a nervous disposition yet every time my fingers rested on the first digit I couldn't help but imagine the expression on Mr. Masen's face.
That expression was a strange juxtaposition of causing intrigue and fear. My fingers itched to dial, to hear his voice and see if it was as cool as his glare. On the other hand my mind reminded me of the chill I felt running down my spine when he'd glared at me and that was the reason for the pause, and the fifteen minutes of mental battles.
For the love of God, just dial the number. I huffed and started to dial.
The dial tone played once and once only.
"Hello, the Cullen residence." A sweet womanly voice answered and instantly my foot stopped tapping wildly.
"Hello, could I please talk with Mr Edward Masen?"
"I'm terribly sorry, but he's left to visit friends for a few days. Can I take a message?"
"Oh, sure. Could you tell him that Annabelle Hartley called."
"Annabelle Hartley. Of course, Edward mentioned that he planned to tutor you."
"I think my mother hopes he still will. Apparently I am the last hope for our piano to ever be played." A tinkling bell like laugh sounded down the phone and I smiled into the receiver.
"Well, we can't have that piano wasted. I shall tell Edward you called as soon as he gets back."
"That would be just great. Do you know how long he'll be gone?" I asked as I glanced to see my mother light up her second cigarette in the past half hour.
"Unfortunately, I'm not sure how long he'll be away, but I hope it won't be too long." I heard the faint longing in the soothing voice. Whoever was on the other end of the phone must have had a deep fondness for that certain Mr. Edward Masen.
I didn't receive a phone call from Edward Masen, not the next day or any other day throughout that week. As each day past my indifference churned into anger. I had done nothing to insult him and yet it was I who was being barraged by my mother's constant questions and accusations. She never once stopped to blame him, or question why he had behaved so oddly. Instead it was set in her mind that it was my fault, that my 'oddness' had clearly discouraged the mysterious piano teacher. Like a good daughter I took my mother's comments with a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar. I knew she was merely focussing her sights on me because if she looked anywhere else she would find herself sitting in silence, smoking a cigarette in the dim second lounge light. I was the one thing she could change, control, and because it gave her peace of mind I let her.
"Annabelle, could you please go change into your royal blue dress. We're expected at the Kings' in half an hour and that green dress has seen better days." I acquiesced to her request and trudged back up the stairs to go change. Even though the green dress I wore had only been bought a couple of months ago.
As I pulled the blue dress up over my legs and started to do the gold buttons up, I thought of what the afternoon had in store. The Kings were a very influential family in Rochester, in the same social league as us although liked to think themselves above. However with all their riches and social standing the Kings lacked humanity, or at least Mr King did. I knew Mother was hesitant of visiting them, and I knew that hesitance was largely due to Mr King and the way he treated his wife. It was supposed to be a secret, but even as a child I knew that Mrs King didn't receive her shining bruises from walking into cupboard doors or tripping down the stairs. For starters I doubted she ever went near cupboard doors, they had servants that handled most of their chores. Mr King wasn't the only reason why I disliked our visits to the Kings. There were also his three sons: George, Royce, and Theodore.
George was the eldest and with his age came a sense of superiority that seemed to make even his mother shrink in his presence. He was a large boy, in size and character, with cool blond hair and shrewd blue eyes. I was glad he had recently seen himself above spending time with me and his brothers. Apparently, now that he had reached sixteen, we were too young to bother with. I certainly didn't miss him constantly enforcing his views and opinions.
Then there was Theodore, the youngest. You would think he preferred to be called Teddy but he didn't. He was very firm with that point. I believe it stemmed for the idea that he didn't want to appear weak in front of his brothers. I also believed it was for that reason that he took to bullying other children for their pocket money. It wasn't like he needed it. He didn't want for anything. That was another thing about Teddy. He was spoilt, to the point that he resembled more of a balloon than a boy. He'd been fed so much candy that his ten-year-old self was now a gargantuan build of fists and fat face.
At least the chubby cheeks balance out that bulbous nose, I thought with a smirk as I smoothed the white collar on my dress and passed my hands down to pull my white socks up to my knees.
Finally there was Royce. I shivered as I thought of him. He was the golden child, that much was clear. It was also clear that he knew it and his brothers did too. He may have been unfortunate enough to have been born as the middle child but that was the only place he was at a disadvantage—if you could call it that. He had inherited his father's strong jaw line and his mothers almond shaped eyes lined with lashes a girl could be envious of. In truth he was a pretty boy, on the surface. Underneath the sandy, waved hair and slate blue eyes lay a boy who lived life like a game of chess. He was manipulative, clever, sly, and it was clear in the depths of his eyes that his goal in life was to own, conquer, and overrule. If life truly were a game of chess his one ambition would be to take the queen. Take her against her will and relish in the idea that she was his property—his to do with what he pleased. It was for that reason I never allowed myself to be alone with him. We may only be children –he fifteen and I fourteen—but he was sharp developing a man's mind, a forceful mindset like his father, and I had no interest in being his queen.
I fiddled a little with the pearl slides on either side of my head before sighing and heading back down to Mother.
This afternoon would be a very long afternoon, but at least it would take my mind off Edward Masen and the irritation he created within me.
Our car ride didn't take very long and throughout it Mother and I talked and observed the world around us, she was always happier out in the world rather than cooped up in the house. However as we drew up to the grand town house I noticed the way she fell silent and her eyes grew withdrawn. For a moment I wondered whether it was only Mr King and his treatment of Mrs King that caused her quietness, or whether there was something else, but not sooner had I thought it than her smile turned to me—even if it didn't touch her eyes.
"Come on, they'll be waiting for us," she said as the driver opened the car door and we stepped out onto the pavement.
"Why do they never come to us?" I asked and Mother's smile faltered.
"It's just easier this way. We don't want those boisterous boys in our house, can you imagine them tearing around." Mother joked, but I knew that wasn't the real reason. Just as when I asked her why Caroline King never joined us on our trips into town she said Caroline was of a very sensitive disposition. However, she was never too sensitive to join her husband for dinners, dances, and other social occasions where their united front was required.
The interchangeable maid answered the door with a bow and murmured "Mrs King is in her day lounge, Mrs Hartley." My mother nodded grimly and touched my shoulder as she left up the stairs.
It was her day lounge today instead of the informal lounge. That meant only one thing, and that was that she had a need to encompass herself in her own private quarters, away from the boys and her husband. Away from prying eyes that could notice her new infliction.
"Master Royce and Master Theodore are in the Billiard room, Miss Hartley. Do you wish me to announce you?" the maid asked and I screwed my mouth up as I thought about what to do. Mother would be with Caroline for at least an hour, and I wasn't sure if I could stand Royce and Teddy for that long.
"What were you doing before you answered the door?" I asked and watched as she looked at me in curiosity.
"I was making the Thermidore sauce for this evening's dinner, Miss," she answered obediently.
"Great, can I come help?" I pushed enthusiastically. The maid stuttered momentarily as she looked at me and then up at the stairs where my mother had disappeared.
"Please." I pressed.
"If you wish," she replied unsurely and led the way to the back of the house where the kitchen sat. It wasn't the norm anymore for there to be servants and servant quarters but that was only for the middle classes. The Kings weren't middle class, far from it.
The maid checked her sauce before opening up cupboards, searching for some mystery object. I wandered over to where the sauce was bubbling away, producing a scrumptious scent of cream, white wine, and subtle herbs.
I picked up the spoon and stirred a few times as I drew the smell deep into my lungs.
"Are you sure you prefer to be here rather than with the Masters in the Billiard room?" the maid asked as she returned with a small bottle of lemon juice.
"Well here I get to smell good food and enjoy pleasant company. Up in the Billiards room I'd have to endure the smell of Teddy and deal with Royce's company."
The maid stifled a laugh.
"Of course don't tell anyone I said that, and it'll probably be a good thing if you deposit me with them for a few minutes so I can at least pretend without telling a complete lie." I sighed as I handed the spoon over to the maid and watched as she added a few dashes of lemon juice.
"Your secret's safe with me, Miss Hartley."
"Please, call me Anna." I smiled at her and she nodded before she timidly replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Anna. I'm Melody."
"Wonderful," I said brightly, although I knew for a fact that Melody wouldn't be here the next time I would be made to visit. Just as Rachel, Lisa, Sylvie, Megan, Harriet, and all the others had been banished after a mere month or two, she too would be let go. Or perhaps even worse, she'd be one of the few that fled on their own accord, for that same mysterious reason.
Melody and I talked genially as she continued to patter around the kitchen, her slim frame was remarkably strong for its size so she didn't struggle with lugging around the large bags of potatoes.
As decided, Melody deposited me in the Billiard room when she took Caroline and my mother their second cup of tea. The second cup always signalled that there was around fifteen minutes left. I knew the routine well.
Melody announced me as was her duty and I rolled my eyes as Royce stood and bowed his head regally in welcome as he chalked his snooker cue.
"Oh good Smellabelle is here." Teddy drawled as he stuffed another scone into his mouth.
"I missed you too, Teddy Bear." I pouted sarcastically earning me a scowl from his piggy eyes.
"Theodore, where are your manners? You have yet to offer Annabelle something to eat," Royce said as he swept from the snooker table towards me. I made sure to shrink away when he attempted to put his arm around me as he guided me to one of the cherry red armchairs.
I looked at the scones Teddy was eating and crinkled my nose in disgust when he thumbed over each one with his spit covered fingers.
"I'm fine, thank you." I returned before clearing my throat as Royce's hand passed down my neck and along my arm.
"Are you sure?" he asked as he looked down at me with those same leering eyes.
"Yes, Royce. If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have said it."
He chuckled as he walked back to his game. "I do love that little mouth of yours, Annabelle." He blew the excess chalk off his cue as he looked over me. I controlled my urge to gag. I should be used to this by now.
Teddy placed the now empty plate on the table in front of him with a clatter before sucking the crumbs off each his fingers and then searching for more on his top. In the end he gave up and rose from the large seat next to me. "I want more scones." He grumbled and Royce sighed.
"If you are sure you truly want more scones then you'll have to go ask Maid to make them."
"If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have said it." Teddy sneered, repeating my words with an added whine attached. With that said he trundled out of the room and I felt an uneasy air descend.
I got up from the chair and went over to the cherry wood bookshelf in the corner of the room. Reading was my only option now to avoid conversation with Royce.
I thumbed over the beautiful volumes, each one bound in thick leather and smelling of the tales they told. I doubted any of the boys had bothered to even lift them from the shelves.
As I ran my finger down the spine of a book of Shakespearian sonnets I felt a presence at my shoulder.
"Shall I compare thee to a summers day, thou art more lovely and more temperate," Royce murmured in my ear and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "That Shakespeare fellow had a queer look on life." He finished as I started to turn but found myself trapped by Royce and his cue forming a barrier.
"I rather like him, so if you could move, please," I said sweetly although my eyes stared with no such feeling.
"I think I quite like our positions just as they are, Annabelle."
"You'll like them less if you don't move," I said through a calm voice even though his proximity was definitely a concern.
He stood for a moment, leaning forward until I could almost feel his breath on my face. My gaze flickered between his as he watched my lips. "Yes, I really do love your little mouth."
He smirked as he stepped back, looking over his shoulder as he returned to his game.
I held the book to my chest, almost a shield between the two of us until I lowered myself into the same armchair I'd been sitting in and tried to focus on the words before me.
It was in this way that I passed the following twenty minutes until my mother came and collected me at the door, Caroline standing behind her with a timid smile on her face and yet another long sleeved dress covering her slender frame.
My mother sighed deeply when the driver started the car. She didn't say a word the whole ride back, not until we stepped through our front door and she seemed to exhale in relief.
Mrs Potts came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling. "Lovely to see you back, Eleanor. Is Caroline in the right sorts?" Mrs Potts asked, able to use first names due to her closeness with both parties.
"She's as she always is," Mother replied and I saw Mrs Potts' face nodded with a faint trace of pity.
"Could you tell me when dinner will be ready, Mary?" Mother asked wearily, already looking towards the study where my father's faint orchestral music was playing.
"I'll be serving the lamb pot at seven, Eleanor." Mrs Potts replied, her smile back before remembrance sprang into its place. "Before I forget there was a phone call for Annabelle, a Mr Edward Masen. He asked for you to call him. He sounded a lovely man, very polite."
My mother dipped to place a kiss on my forehead, her perfume reaching my nostrils and her red hair tickling my face. "Isn't that wonderful, Darling," she said and I nodded as I pressed my lips together. Of course it was great that he'd finally returned my call, but now I had to interact with him again and that part made me uneasy.
I watched as Mrs Potts left back to the kitchen and my mother went to my father's study, shutting the door behind her. I was left standing in the middle of the hallway and in that moment of near silence I huffed a heavy breath of boredom. Because really, what else was there to do.