Two chapters in one week - shocking! Oh, the things I go to for fanfiction (I really should have been doing Latin homework while I was writing this, but oh well). So, I hope you like this chapter and review if you do. I'm also going to say that this chapter is a present to The Yankee Countess as a surprise for two reasons. Partly because this fic would not be here without her and she has given me so much help with the last two chapters, and partly because I know she is having a stressful weekend and this is an attempt to make it slightly more cheery and less stressful. I mean, who can be sad when Sybil and Tom are around? Thank you to all of you, too, for your continued love and support.
One Phone Call Away: Chapter 4
"Larry…" Sybil started, staring down the hall at her unfaithful ex. Tom was still standing right by the door and Larry just outside it. Sybil didn't really want to get any closer. She crossed her arms over her chest, subconsciously trying to protect herself. Just seeing Larry was making her feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.
"I'm sorry, Sybil," Larry tried, looking as apologetic as ever.
"I don't care how sorry you are. I told you not to bother and I meant it," Sybil said firmly, putting on an act that made her seem more confident than she was really feeling.
"I know and-"
"I'm glad you understand. Feel free to respect my choices whenever you're ready," Sybil said, sarcasm dripping from her words as she turned her back to return to the sitting room. 'Respect' and 'Larry' rarely belonged in the same sentence and Sybil found it ridiculous that she hadn't realised this sooner.
"Sybil, wait!" Larry called, making to move into the house before Tom stopped him.
"Why should I?" Sybil said, whirling her body back round to meet Larry's eyes. "There is nothing between us, Larry. You're a jerk and there isn't a hope in hell that you're getting me back."
"It's not like you're any better than me," Larry called, getting heated in his argument now. "You've gone and fucked this working class piece of scum! He hasn't even shaved!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards Tom with a look of disgust on his face. Tom and Larry had never been friends, but Larry had never been quite so insulting towards him. Jealousy really is such an unattractive trait. "How is that worse than what I did?"
"I haven't fucked anyone!" Sybil shouted, fighting back the tears.
"Leave her alone, Larry," Tom said firmly, trying hard to resist the urge to punch that witless idiot in the stomach.
Sybil turned away, making for the kitchen, not wanting to get into a full on shouting match when emotions were running high and nothing had had any time to settle as of yet. Larry tried to follow her, attempting to enter the house he'd spent so many days and nights in over the last few years, but Tom stood in his way. He didn't want to allow Larry near her if it would make her feel uncomfortable. "I said, leave her alone," he said firmly. Even though Larry was taller than Tom, Tom had more muscle and whether he was proud of it or not, no doubt had been part of more physical fights than Larry had.
"Surely it's her choice?" Larry said, hatred apparent in his eyes, but his voice light, putting on a façade of innocence.
"She told you not to bother. And she asked you to respect her decisions. She's made her choice. She doesn't want you anywhere near her. Leave her alone, Larry," Tom said, clearly trying to keep his anger to a minimum, but it rose within him with ever y word he spoke to that worthless and empty man in front of him. Larry stared him down, attempting to make it clear that he was the one in charge, trying to get Tom to submit, but he never would. Larry could stare at him for years and he'd never back down. Not when it was Sybil's happiness on the line.
When Larry gave up attempting to force Tom into submission, he chose, instead of walking away and forgetting about the whole situation, to walk past Tom on his way to Sybil. He didn't make it far though. Tom stood directly in front of him and pushed him backwards, stopping him from going any further. "What are you doing?" Larry exclaimed in disgust, eyeing Tom critically.
"Making sure Sybil gets the privacy she asked for."
"She's not being very private when you consider she's got a journalist hanging about the house. How much does she think she'll get away with before you start writing everything about her life in that pathetic piece of shit you call a newspaper?" he asked with arrogance evident in his voice and self-righteousness surrounding his stance. When he tried to make his way past again, Tom stood in his way, determined not to let him past.
"Insult me as much as you want. I'm not letting you get near Sybil if that's what she's specifically stated she doesn't want," Tom said through gritted teeth. How the hell had Sybil put up with this bastard for such a long time? He made everyone he came into contact with feel inferior. No wonder Sybil's self-esteem had slowly dropped ever since she had started spending more time with Larry.
Larry's jaw dropped at Tom's words. He clearly thought it rude that Tom had the audacity to stand up for Sybil. But if he thought that rude, how had he not thought fucking another woman behind Sybil's back was rude too? He pulled himself away from Tom before launching himself at him with his fist on target to collide with Tom's jaw. Tom narrowly dodged Larry's punch, but willingly gave him one in the stomach. He wasn't aiming to hurt exactly, but Larry desperately needed to learn a lesson on how to be a half decent human being. Larry bent over at Tom's hard physical contact and instinctively grabbed his stomach, dropping the bunch of flowers he'd been holding the entire time. "How long is it going to take you to realise that Sybil doesn't want you here?" Tom said, trying to keep his voice down, but hardly succeeding. Larry threw himself at Tom again, hitting him square in the shoulder. Tom fought back and pushed him backwards by his shoulders making him almost trip over backwards out of the front door. Just as Larry was finding his feet once again, Sybil appeared around the corner.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
"Your… fuckbuddy punched me," Larry said, vengeance turning to fire in his eyes.
"He is NOT my fuckbuddy!" Sybil shouted, making her way towards the front door now. "And I'm sure he had a perfectly good reason to do what he did!" Larry opened his mouth and looked as if he were about to apologise, but Sybil stopped him before he could say anything. She shoved him backwards, catching him off guard, and managed to push him out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
Tom turned to Sybil and said, "I should go, too." He turned as if to go out the front door, but Sybil grabbed his arm as he turned away from her and said,
"Don't you dare!" When he turned to face Sybil, he saw that her eyes were brimming with tears that were about to fall down her cheeks.
"Sybil," he said sympathetically, not sure how to react, as he wasn't sure exactly what she was crying about. He brought her into a hug, enveloping her with his strong arms, as she sobbed into his chest for the second time in the space of less than twenty four hours.
"What's he thinking?" she asked through muffled sobs. She pushed away from Tom and began to walk towards the sitting room where she'd confided in him the night before. "Why does he think I want him back?" she asked, not facing Tom, but asking him as an open question.
"Because he doesn't see that what he's done is wrong."
"Then he's a snake," Sybil said, tears still running down her cheeks. "How can he not know that shagging someone else is wrong? Especially when he knew I was coming round that day! He should have known I was going to catch him!" Sybil shouted into the air, thinking aloud.
"You're right. He should have known. And he is a snake. But you're shot of him, Syb," Tom said, trying to comfort her.
"Yeah, I suppose." Sybil paused to wipe the tears from her face. "You did have a reason, didn't you?" she asked, hoping he'd say he did.
"For what?"
"Punching him."
"He tried to come in. I told him to go away and he still tried, and then he insulted me and I still didn't let him in, so he tried to punch me, and when that didn't work, I punched him." Despite how wrong Sybil knew the whole situation was, she couldn't help but smile.
"You know you shouldn't have got into a fight over me."
"It wasn't a fight over you, per se," Tom said with a smirk. "It was a fight over what's wrong and what's right."
"Larry being the wrong party, I gather," she said with a smile. Her eyes were still slightly watery, but at least now she was beginning to cheer up once again. Tom really did have a positive effect on her. He simply smiled in reply. Of course Larry was the wrong party and of course Tom was the perfect man that Sybil knew him to be.
"Do you want to go out for coffee? Or cake? Or both?" Tom asked. Sybil laughed at how he was rambling awkwardly to himself. "Just, it will get us out the house. Fresh air. Real life. It might make things better," he said, trying his best to convince Sybil.
"Sounds like a brilliant plan," she said through a smile. "You just need to let me get dressed and ready." She turned away and made her way up the stairs as Tom stayed in the sitting room. He looked at his phone to check he hadn't missed any texts or alerts, but he hadn't. He wasn't expecting any contact, but every so often he knew he'd get a text out of the blue from his sister back in Ireland, a friend or a colleague perhaps. He quickly checked his emails using his 3G. He checked them so often on his phone that it was almost second nature to go straight there when he turned his phone on.
Half way through reading an email from his boss, Tom heard Sybil calling down the stairs. "Tom?" He made his way to the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see her in a cream dress with blue flowers, hair now dry and out of the bun, and half a face of makeup on. He smiled as he looked at her, the gorgeous woman that she was. "I've got a spare toothbrush if you want to clean your teeth," she said, looking down at him. She was holding a mascara wand in one hand and a compact mirror in the other.
"Ah, thanks," Tom said, as he began making his way up the stairs. "Why do you have spare toothbrushes of all things?" he asked as he got closer to her.
"Because things like this happen sometimes. Well, not usually like this, but, you know, someone won't want to go home because they're drunk or something and they'll stay the night and you'd be surprised how many toothbrushes I've gone through due to the number of unexpected visits. Come on," she said as Tom reached the top of the stairs and she started walking towards her room. "They're in my bathroom." Tom followed her through her slightly less than tidy room to her much tidier en suite. He'd forgotten just how posh Sybil's house was. For someone of her age, it was remarkable that she was able to afford a place like this. Of course, her parents had helped her (Robert wasn't going to allow any daughter of his to 'slum it', despite Sybil's protests), but it still astonished Tom every time he thought of it. Sybil found the packet of new toothbrushes in a drawer and handed one to Tom. "Toothpaste's on the shelf," she said, pointing to the tube. She wandered back into her bedroom as Tom cleaned his teeth.
When he came out of the small bathroom, he found Sybil holding her mirror in front of her and applying a deep pink lipstick. She smiled when she saw him. He felt a bit awkward being in her bedroom. There was nothing to be worried about – nothing was going to happen, but that didn't take away the awkwardness completely. "Why are you using that mirror?"
"Huh?" she replied, concentrating more on trying to find where her blue flats had gone than on what Tom was saying.
"Your mirror. How come you don't have a bigger one? Most vanity tables have one."
"Oh," Sybil replied, registering what he had said, but still searching for her shoes. "I moved all the furniture in my room around a couple of weeks ago and it smashed then. I haven't had the chance to replace it yet, that's all."
"Seven years bad luck," Tom chuckled, knowing that all that superstition was nonsense.
"I don't believe in that. Have you seen my blue shoes?" she asked. She barely took a breath between the two sentences, changing the subject swiftly.
"These ones?" he said, picking up the pair of shoes half covered by a blanket on the floor.
"Ah! Yes, those would be the ones," she said, walking towards him to take them off him. After slipping them onto her feet she said, "Right. I think I'm ready. My bag's downstairs and all's well and good!" It was nice to see her smiling, to see her cheerful and enjoying life as she once did. "Let's go."
She made her way out of her room and down towards the front door, with Tom following. She grabbed her bag and checked that she had everything in it that she needed and with that they were out of the house and on their way to the coffee shop for the well-known healthy breakfast of coffee and cake. Possibly even both in one, who knew?
