A/N:
Happy New Year! (er ... that is ... I mean ... okay, yeah ... better make that a 'belated' Happy New Year.)
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My apologies for yet another long delay, I really will try to speed things up now that the holiday season is finally well and truly over.
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And Grobbebol – thank you for your very kind comment following the last chapter.
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Okay … let's get this show back on the road.
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Chapter Six
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-o- -o-
Taking Charge
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"He needs a job."
And wasn't that the truth, someone had seriously far too much time on their hands.
"Yep, we really need to get him back to work ... like ….. really, really soon." Though grossly ill-considered, Stefan's words just happened to be some of the more genuine spoken of late. In trying to protect his sensitive feelings all of Ianto's friends, even Ellie, had been stuck in full-blown pussyfoot and pander mode. They'd even given him a break from the usual bouts of nagging and, in return, Jones the Disgraced had begun to respond most positively ...
... for the most part.
-o-
Initially glad to be back on his own couch, as he grunted then slouched a few inches lower it became clear that he'd reacted badly to the critique of his current circumstances.
And he'd been doing so well, too.
Coiled-springing it, sat there right next to him just in case any unpleasant ones should spout forth, his tiny guardian angel was poised, ready to hang onto his every word.
Also on the boll, over by the kettle, and still doing his part for a very good cause, a peacemaking Gaz was waiting to top up Ianto's cafetiere. Tactically he'd already thought to add the Welshman's blend of the moment to the pot. Everyone but everyone knew that coffee was the quickest way to Jones the Bastard''s heart, so a pack of ground French had hastily been purchased on the way over. Coincidentally, the very same 'everyone but everyone' was still praying that their friend would see sense very soon. Unfortunately their perpetual attempts at'keeping him sweet were fast becoming une tache ingrate - which was a shame - for the duration of his confinement Ianto's hold your breath moments had been few and far between.
So ... did this mean the Deja vu days were back again? Suggesting that they well might be, the air right now was thick with dread and expectation.
And it'd all been going so well, too.
-o-
Breaking the pregnant silence to enter everyone's crowded thoughts, the same caveman-like noise sounded for a second time. The two attentive friends currently at his beck and call, studied him with eyes slyly askew. While Stefan, having carelessly prompted the reaction in the first place, was being careful not to respond in any way whatsoever. Tucked away behind a surround of base units, and already with the Situations Vacant page spread out beneath him, he was hunched low over Ianto's kitchen table. It was no secret that he'd shown up today determined to play it cool.
Clearly becoming more wound up by the second, Ianto grumbled to himself again. The ungrateful intonation contained therein saw his best friend's best laid plans fall at the third fence.
"Right, that's it, look Yan if you've got somethin' to say, just say it, okay?"
With blatant disregard for his own rules of self-preservation, first the top-knot of blond locks, then Stefan's pretty face itself popped up to peer above the edge of his cuisine lined bunker. He fixed the enemy across the battlefield's divide with a no-nonsense stare. "Look Yan you're gonna have to do somethin' positive pretty soon. You might think it's perfectly fine to carry on livin' like this, but it's fuckin' not, okay? You can't just sit around here mopin' all day. The more time you have on those death-wish hands of yours, the more chance there is of you doin' somethin' stupid. And by that I of course mean that there's a good chance of you doin' somethin' stupid … 'again'."
Speech marks were bravely waved. Mainly because Stefan had forgotten that there was only so much that anyone could get away with where Jones the Bastard was concerned ... such had been Ianto's agreeable mood of late.
Now slomped with his feet stretched right out in from of him, a silent, though maybe now not quite so agreeable, Ianto scowled back at his friend. Holding stare, he narrowed his eyes confirming there was only so much interference he was actually prepared to tolerate. During the time spent at Ellie's, with him feeling ashamed at best because of recent events, the troubled Welshman's surprising show of compliance had been noted with the least amount of fuss possible. It wouldn't be wise, the others had decided, to patronise or embarrass him too much, the sooner he felt able to return to his normal self, the better things would be all round.
As plotted on the day of the junkie fiasco, the heartbroken love had not once been left to his own devices. He'd been kept out of harm's way, had been fed, watered, mollycoddled - his damaged soul, nurtured in the most above and beyond manner possible. Caring nights had followed each attentive day, and the cosy evenings sat fireside with Ellie seemed to have worked really well. With them indulging in one meaningful chat after another, he'd eventually promised to remain open to suggestion. He'd even insisted he'd comply with all words of advice without a fight.
Consequently the originally planned 'foreseeable future' had ended up being just two short weeks.
The promises had been flowing like wine ... a certain Welshman had more than earned his reprieve.
Never before had a more contrite expression been so readily displayed.
-o-
The bugger must've had his fingers crossed behind his back the entire time.
Bit of a crafty thespian on the quiet, that Ianto Jones.
Not that he'd been deliberately ungrateful in any way. Even during his most extreme moments of disregarding, his thoughts had never once been nasty or disrespectful; the only reason he'd allowed his friends to believe he was genuinely appreciative, was because his appreciation for their original motives really had been nothing but totally genuine. And in accepting that they truly did have his best interests at heart, he, in turn, had shown that he was truly grateful … ...
well ...
... as grateful as his already fate-filled mind would allow him to be, anyway ... but it still counted.
-o-
'Trust' ... had been the word most bandied about on his day of departure. In return for him agreeing to uphold his end of the bargain, the others had agreed to do their best in helping him stay on the straight and narrow.
'Trust', it'd quickly become clear, really was their biggest issue.
But that show of trust was supposed to have worked both ways. As far as the reformed Ianto Jones was concerned, he'd agreed that his friends could oversee his ongoing welfare - 'oversee' and 'advise' where necessary - not take away every single ounce of self-control. How could a situation like that be any better for his frame of mind? Didn't any of them realise he still had a little pride left? Initially prepared to make an effort as a thank you to them, he'd promised he'd behave himself, that he'd be fine if left on his own. And he'd actually meant it, he hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol; hadn't even set one foot outside his front door to go purchase any.
He'd even cooked himself a proper meal. That had been yesterday evening, on his very first day back …
Yes. ... His very first day back. He'd been ensconced within the security of his own four walls for less than forty eight hours, and here they all were again, already crowding him and taking control.
Sadly, the fact was confirming only one thing. That regardless of how much effort he was prepared to make, not a one of them would ever really have any faith in him. Not one of them believed that he could get past this episode without him needing some kind of intervention.
They still didn't trust him ... and he was no longer a happy boy ... so maybe it was time for him to claw back a little of that thoughtlessly seized control.
-o-
Rendering his comfortable slouched position redundant, and holding his head high, his propensity for regularly managing to do 'somethin' 'stupid', became the first to incur his wrath.
"Well thanks for that huuuuuge vote of confidence, Stef. You want me out of your hair and back at work do you? Well personally …. Oh, not that it's got anything to fucking do with you, by the way ... anyway, personally, I fail to see what the big deal is. I mean, it's not as if I need the fucking money is it? The mortgage on this place, and all the bills, are covered no probkem by the monthly allowance from mam and tad's estate. And what food bills do I have, hmmm? It's not like I eat like a fucking horse, now is it?"
"Agreed ….." Returning from the bathroom and stopping on the spot, Larry thought it might be a better idea for him to linger in the living room doorway for a while. "Food shoppin' clearly isn't much of an issue for you," he nodded, "We can all see you don't give a toss that you're slowly wastin' away to nothin' ... but, come on mate, even you have to admit, you do drink like a fuckin' fish. How much have you been spending on booze lately?"
The Celtic scowl was instantly applied. It achieved optimum effect, and deciding to shut up for now Larry chanced taking a seat up the other end of the couch.
"Here we go ... this one sounds okay."
Once more out of sight, Stefan had his head back in the vacancies section. "Care home requires full time assistant, forward slash, handyman. Police check essential but no experience required as full training will be given."
"Sounds interesting," Gaz filled the last of five espresso cups then left it on the table for Stefan to find. "If no experience is required, that means it'll only be basic duties; Yan should be able to manage that no problem." Arming himself with his laden tray, he walked through to find the others.
As lazy as ever, Larry helped himself to the blue cup because it was closest. Sending a wink and smile up to his beloved, he ignored his drink for now to peer kitchen-bound. "Oh come on, Stef. ... are you havin' a laugh? Yan? In a care home? The dozy wanker has enough trouble wipin' his own arse let alone anyone else's. He'd probably be okay with the forward slashin' part, but, seriously man, would you let him loose in a room full of pensioners?"
Before Ellie could snatch it up for herself, Ianto laid claim to the classy, burgundy example on the tray; it was still his favourite from the set that Jack had bought for the apartment late last year. "Feel better now, do we Lawrence? Quite finished assassinating my blemished character have you Mr I'm perfect in every fucking way? Anyway, I'm not looking for a job," was concluded between sips, "So my arse wiping abilities, and which direction I choose to take a piss, are completely irrelevant thank you."
Too excited to join in with the sniggering, Ellie finished blowing then hurriedly took her first sip. "Actually, Yan, I'm in total agreement with you babe. I think we should just forget the job search full stop. You've been completely sober for a couple of weeks now; you've been seeing things so much more clearly, so if anything it's getting back with Jack that you should be concentrating on. Seriously, I really think it's time you got past this silly phase you're in. Just give him a quick ring. I know he'll be able to sort you out and …."
"Silly phase? For fuck's sake, Els!"
The brave, if a little ill thought out, effort was brought to an abrupt halt. "Will you all please get it into your thick fucking skulls that I am NOT going to be phoning Jack - not today - not ever! We're finished, okay? I thought you lot were supposed to be helping me move on ... why can't you all just get off my fucking case and leave me to get on with things how I fucking want!"
The tormented friend left his seat, smacked his half-empty cup down onto the counter, then stormed from the room.
As her thirst disappeared, Ellie sat her cup on the floor and sank back with a sigh. "Damn, I thought he'd finally got past this self-denial crap.
Well aware of his part in things, a guilt-filled Larry scooped up the cushion next to him. As he aimed it across the counter it bounced off of Stefan's head, shot off at right-angles across the kitchen then knocked the dreg-filled cafetiere into the washing-up bowl.
"Oi, you can get over there right now and clear that bloody lot up, you messy git." Knowing he'd end up doing it himself anyway, walking back through the gap, Gaz was still grumbling away to himself.
Larry watched as a stream of paper towel was reeled off in readiness. The consequent change in topic was blatant but administered without a care anyway. "Okay, so what do we do next, Els is clearly losing her magic touch." He pretended to be deep in thought, a contrived moment that nobody fell for. "Oh ... I know ... why don't you try havin' a word with him Stef? After all, you are his closest male friend."
"Cheers Lals ... do I look like a fuckin' masochist?"
Stefan shook the newspaper out in front of him. After folding it into a neat enough shape to pacify Ianto he left a crafty Gaz hopping in to keep his seat warm for him.
He emerged through the gap in the kitchen units. "Anyway, Els is much closer to him than I am, and if she can't get through, what sort of a chance do you think I've got?" The two friends sat below him, shared a look.
"Stef ….. just give it a try, yeah? You know it makes sense." Now sitting where Ianto had been, Ellie stretched out lengthwise preventing Stefan from taking up the middle for diddle seat on show. "Tell him if he can't face making the call himself, all he needs to do is pass Jack's number on to me and I'll do all the talking for him."
Still propped up at the other end Larry twisted himself sideways. Lifting them high enough he rested his feet on Ellie's thighs, thereby taking up all other expanses of available room. She gave him a thumbs up and the pair lay there laughing at their blatant use of dirty tactics.
Chiseled Scandinavian cheek bones (courtesy of his mum) becoming only more defined, Stefan pinched a very brief, but incredibly pissy look in their direction. Then he skulked off in search of Ianto
-o- -o-
"It's customary to knock, you wanker."
Sat on the end of his bed apparently guessing who'd just stepped over the threshold, chin balanced on his palms and staring straight ahead, Ianto had that very distinctive my world has just come to a very sad end, look about him.
"Yan …. c'mohhn ... we all know what you really want, so why won't you just let us help you?"
Stefan sat down with a light bounce, nudged deliberately sideways to shunt his friend in the most amicable way he knew how. "D'you really wanna stay like this, miserable and lonely? D'you really wanna be on your own for the foreseeable future? That's not a very nice prospect, is it Jonesy."
Ianto's heart skipped a beat. It'd been so long since his friend had used that particular nickname. Memories of much happier times were flooding back making him wonder 'where had the years gone'? The face sat next to him looked a little older but not that much, so why wasn't the same Stef still hiding beneath? Could the same be said of himself? He'd had so many personality changes over the years, but it hadn't been that long, surely? What'd happened to them, as friends? At what point had it all gone wrong, become so serious? They'd laughed so much together in sixth form, had done nothing but lark about get into trouble ... and along with Ellie, all three of them had always been there for each other.
Everything had been perfect until …..
Until the accident …
Until the day his mam and tad …..
-o-
"Oh god, Stef ….."
With new memories came intensified pain and his first set of tears for the day. Did he want to be on his own? No, of course he didn't.
He stared down at his thighs. "No, you're right, it's not a nice prospect," Locating Stefan's gaze, Ianto shook his head. "I hate being like this, but I don't know how to move on from Jack without feeling guilty."
The head opposite was nodded and an arm slipped around Ianto's shoulders. "Well, the way I see it, gorgeous,you have two choices ... you either sort out this stupid mess - ie, just get you and Jack back to normal - or you forget about him altogether. If you really can't see you two ever gettin' back together, maybe you should be thinkin' 'bout gettin' yourself back in the game 'cause, frankly you daft bugger, you're fuckin' crap at keeping yourself company. Please, Yan, make a decision one way or the other, I'm not sure how much more of seein' you in this state I can take. I hate that you're so sad all the time ... I just wish there was somethin' I could do to away take the pain. You really need someone, someone permanent ...you're no good on your own - don't you miss having somebody around, ready to hug and kiss you when you need it most?"
"Yeah ... course I do …." Eyes watered some more, the following sniffs were loud and telling.
"Then do something positive you dope. Look, if you're feeling smothered right now, just say the word and I'll go straight back out there and ask the others to leave."
The shoulder hug was tightened. Stefan rested his forehead against his friend's temple before leaning away again. "Come on, surely you can let me of all people try to help you? I know Els has been good, but try me ... I'll just sit here and listen if that's what it takes. Just say the word - use me - I'm at your disposal - I'll do whatever you need …"
As Ianto turned in his arms, Stefan pulled him close. "You are allowed to hug me back, you know ... I promise I won't molest you."
With a small laugh Ianto did as he was told. "I'm sorry, Stef, I just don't know what to do for the best about anything lately." As long fingers began to squeeze the tension from his nape, with a soft sigh he allowed it to continue.
"Okay, today we sort this. That means no bullshittin' me, Yan, I want you to be honest with me ... " Topping up the courage levels, Stefan drew in a deep breath. "You still love Jack, don't you ... and more than anythin', all you want is to get back with him. I'm right, aren't I?"
Nodding, Ianto pulled away to face front again. Stefan grasped one shoulder, made a point of gripping it tightly. "So why are you so determined not to get in contact with the guy? This is killin' you ... I can see that. If you think this much of him, why can't you just pick up the phone and ask him to start over?"
It was time for the truth.
Ianto closed his eyes. "Because not knowing is already hard enough. If I talk to him and find out for certain that he really doesn't want me anymore ... I don't know what I'll do . Stef, this hurts enough as it is, and I'm scared I won't cope. At least this way I can pretend that he still cares."
"Oh, Jesus." Hugging tighter this time, Stefan pulled his friend back into hold. "You can't spend all of your life wonderin' ... and if he does still feel the same way ... Christ,Yan ... all this fuckin' time you're wastin'."
A silent Ianto melted into the embrace, was hugging back just as tightly before he realised what he was doing. "Shit ... sorry ... this is a little inappropriate isn't it; we'd better stop."
Stefan laughed, embarrassed. "Okay... awkward, mustn't forget I have a wonderful boyfriend I'm supposed to be meetin' in half an hour." He checked his watch. "Actually, I'd better get goin'. You gonna be okay?"
Ianto stared down, located the healing scar on his left palm then traced his right forefinger along its length. "Yeah, course I am, you'd better go." Raising his gaze he began to smile. "Can't keep someone as hot as DanDan waiting, can we now? And Stef, honestly, I'm really sorry for ruining your evening."
"You know the best thing you can do for me right now you tosser?" Stefan was grinning as he cuffed the head next to him. "Either call Jack yourself, or give Els the number so she can do it."
Ianto looked away again.
That was all it needed for his friend to know he was wasting his breath. "Look, I gotta go." He pushed himself up onto his feet. "You're not gonna get rat-arsed the minute your'e on your own, are you?"
Ianto blew a breathy laugh out through his nose. "I have a lot to think about ... " He turned to face his friend again. "And I can't do that when I'm pissed, now can I?"
-o-
-o-
"Any luck?" Seeing Stefan out to his car, Larry opened the front door for him.
They stepped out onto the pavement together. Stefan looked back with a sigh. "He's admitted that he still loves Jack, and that he still wants to be with him ..."
"But?"
"But we're no closer to gettin' that number out of him."
"Bollocks."
-o-
Back inside, seeing Ianto enter the room, Ellie dragged herself up into a sitting position. "Yan? You been crying again? Oh babe, you know you can't go on like this."
She left the couch to go greet him. "Okay, no arguments this time ... I want Jack's number and I want it right ... fucking ... now."
Ianto's lolling head was moved from side to side. "Why, Els? What good would it do ... it's way too late to make any kind of difference that'll count. Too much time has passed, and even if I do still want him, Jack's not gonna want to know me after all this time ... he's bound to have found someone else by now. Someone that's not …"
Stood there, arms folded, about to take no nonsense, Ellie wasn't in the mood for holding back. "Like you? Is that what you were gonna say, Yan? Someone that's not like you? Oh,just stop talking bollocks will you!" She unfolded her arms, then changed her mind and quickly folded them again. "The sooner you two get back together, the sooner you can get on with your life. So, are you gonna give me his bloody number or not?"
"Yan, honey, just give her the number ... pleeeease ... just do it for me, yeah?" Quiet up until now, Gaz was leaving his seat at the kitchen table.
Ianto watched him approach with a sigh. "But it's been over two months, Zeebo. I really think we should just leave things as they are. What if he gets embarrassed, pissed off, 'cause we've put him on the spot? He could end up hating me even more than he already does."
"Fine, I'll take that as a no then, shall I?"
Having already stomped her way past, Ellie couldn't resist turning back for one final parting shot. With Ianto turning to stare mutely in her direction, she snapped her hands to her hips.
"Well done Yan. Jack was the best thing to ever happen to you." Still yelling, she turned away again. "And for the record ... Jack could never hate you. Now do try to have a nice life all on your own, won't you."
Snatching out, she grabbed her bag from the hall table, then stormed out into the street.
"Oh now look what you've done, you silly dope."
As it was offered, Ianto accepted a hug from a sad-faced Gazebo. The diminutive friend stretched up to press a kiss to his left cheek. "You know I still care, don't you Yan but, sorry, I'm gonna have to go find Lals. You do understand, don't you?"
Managing a weak smile, Ianto nodded his comprehension, then watched the cute and caring one of the bunch walk sadly away.
-o-
Out in the street, still trying to right a few wrongs with Stefan, Larry looked over to spot a fiery ball of five foot nothing striding on by. "Els? Oi, Els ... where you goin'?"
Lips pinching hard, stare fixed firmly ahead, Ellie stomped away without a word.
Stefan rolled his eyes. "Els? Oi, Els ... come on, what's he done this time? Oi, don't run off ..."
She didn't bother looking back. "The man's an A grade idiot. How comes we can see the solution and he can't? He's clearly not firing on all cylinders ... so, if bollock-brain back there won't give me Jack's number, I'm just gonna have to find another way of getting it."
An unsuspecting Gaz stepped out to join his brothers in arms and all three of them stood in the middle of the road watching the jittery redhead storm off into the distance. "She's only saying those horrible things because she's frustrated." he consoled. "She's missing Jack just as much as Yan is, and for what it's worth, I really miss him too …"
His admission, delivered with a sigh, was topped off with a final wish. "Whatever she's got planned, I really hope she has some luck."
Larry slipped an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, kissed the top of his head. "Yeah, I know what you mean ..." Nodding he heaved a deep sigh."... if only Jason bloody Cooper had kept his big fuckin' mouth shut that night at the club, eh?"
"WHAH! Lals! That's it!"
Stefan slapped an unsuspecting Larry hard on the back. "Well done genius ... that's our answer! If we can persuade Jay to help us, he might have some luck in getting Jack's number out of Joe! Els! ….. Els!" Still bellowing, the blond took off like a rocket. "Taylor? Oi! Els! Stop ignorin' me you stubborn cow and wait up!"
"Somethin' I said?" Trying to reach the newly acquired sore spot between his shoulder blades, Larry couldn't help but frown as he watched a suddenly cheerful Stefan fly full pelt after their little miss fix it.
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It'd been a good idea.
A really good idea.
Even a rampaging Ellie, with her 'interrupt me and you die' head on, hadn't been able to argue with the timely piece of logic. Stefan had been congratulated, and Jay had been approached the next day. Still having a soft spot for his ex-fuck-buddy and, of course, still riddled with guilt, naturally he'd been only too glad to help.
Joe, on the other hand, hadn't been very cooperative at all. Insisting that he'd ditched his old mobile several months back and hadn't bothered to transfer any of Jack's U. S. details, he'd sent Jay away with the message that even if he did still have the required number, there was no way on earth he'd ever do anything that might assist that bastard graffiti artist Ianto Jones.
-o-
Now already started on the second morning of her quest, still determined to find success Ellie's first stop had been Newman Street. Her brilliant plan had been to turn up early when, hopefully, Steve, Jack's UK agent, would still be half asleep but, sadly, creating another twist to her tale, Steve. she'd been reliably informed, was going to be out of the country for at least another week. His secretary (approached nicely; flirted with a little - just in case), although friendly enough had been quick to confirm that even if she could get access to Jack's file, she'd never 'dreeeeeeam' of sharing such confidential information without having 'their client's' total permission to do so first.
So this was why, at nine forty-five am, one 'dog with a bone' redhead was currently clicking her Dorothy heels outside the doors of London's Cambridge Theatre.
"And, Tom, did you say his name is?"
The middle-aged box office clerk, dragged away from preparing for 'doors opening', shivered and edged the door closed just that little bit further.
Nodding with a wide noisy gape, Ellie shivered too, then immediately apologised for having yawned in the first place - she'd had a long night of thinking and planning, and it was still relatively early now.
"Nohhhh, sorry," The woman didn't seem to be in the mood for deliberation,"There's definitely nobody here with that name." though another short moment thinking and hmmm-ing did produce a slightly more positive offering. "Anna might be able to help you."
Ellie became visibly cheery. She nearly forgot how tired and cold she was.
"But it's only nine fifty, and Anna doesn't start 'til twelve today …."
As her smile faded, "Damn. Are you sure there's absolutely nobody else inside you can check with?" Ellie made sure every ounce of desperation was showing on her face. "This Tom that I'm after, he was definitely working here last year. He's a choreographer and he was working with that creep Jerry whatsisname who was directing Grease …. you know ... Grease the Musical? Danny? Sandy? Summer Nights?"
The same level of desperation saw our heroine burst into song. "You're the one that I want ….. hoo hoo hoo, honey."
She even jigged about on the spot but stopped for fear that a crowd of tourists with cameras might gather.
"Know it? Oh, come on love, you must know that one ... hoo hoo hoo honey?"
Looking down, face hidden, the woman's expression had actually melted way back with the very first of the six 'hoo's'.
Sighing as the door edged just slightly ajar, she clutched her clasped palms to her chest. "Ohhhhhh, wasn't it the young man from that musicals programme on telly that was playing Danny? Oooh he's dead gorgeous he is."
One classic Jones arc was replicated to perfection. "Yes ... Jack. Matinee idol smile - drop dead fuckable ... bingo ... now we're getting somewhere." Ellie took a chance in edging closer. "So, as we've now established that I'm not stark raving mad, is there any chance you could just pop backstage for an eeensy weeensy bit to ask if anybody knows where I can find Tom the choreographer? It won't take a minute, now will it?"
"Well, I guess it won't hurt just this once."
Madame Box Office disappeared within.
But not before locking an already chilled to the bone Ellie, without.
After ten minutes of suffering drizzling rain blowing beneath the canopy Ellie groaned with relief as the door reopened.
The same woman gestured for her to enter. Squeezing in through the begrudging gap left on offer she heard a shout and spotted a joyously happy March bounding in her direction.
He reached the entrance just as she made it all the way inside, "Hi Els, this is a nice surprise." With his mouth twisting cutely confused to one side, he stood there studying her appearance. "Why the fuck were you standing out there? It's raining."
"A very good question, even if I say so myself." Ellie walked completely into the foyer. Shuddering noisily she spared a glare for the woman climbing back behind her desk. "I didn't realise you were still working here." she admitted turning back.
"I'm fixtures and fittings." March sent her a conundrum of a smirk.
Turning back from locking the door he stepped forward with the same secretive grin on board. "I work for the theatre, not the Companies that play the place. It's my old man's idea, he's been producing West End shows for years and basically, what it all boils down to is that he's always been too busy for family life - which means, for the most part, I've always got my own way. But for the last year or so he's been mega pissed off with me."
"Why?" Ellie removed her jacket, shook it out noisily in the hope that 'Ms Hospitality Year 2k' might notice.
"'Cause I won't go to uni." was explained with a laugh, "He knows what I really wanna do - I've grown up spending nearly all of my time around actors and performers, but he's adamant I'm not going down that route. He's sent out strict instructions that nobody's to offer me anything. Apparently, making me learn the nuts and bolts like this, is his idea of teaching me a lesson. Anyway …..you're privileged ... this is one story I usually steer well clear of sharing – So, who was it you were after, again?"
Ellie blinked, refocused and started to laugh. "Oh yeah, sorry, I need to get hold of Tom … but way more important spoilt little rich kid, is you spilling the beans on who this famous dad of yours is." Her curiosity had become just enough for to forget her current dilemma. "So come on then, who is he?"
"Long story ….." March looked down and then away. Avoiding eye contact, and in turn the issue, seemed to be his prime concern right now. "Anyway … Tom? Why the hell d'you need to get hold of that dickhead?"
He looked up again, smiled and tried to distract Ellie by running his fingers through his thick and enviable shoulder length locks.
She pursed a smile, had sussed the game playing from the word go. "Okay, we'll leave the telling of your fascinating back-story for another day and, look, I know nobody really likes Tom but, seriously March, he's literally my only hope."
"Lucky you."
"You do know what's happened, don't you?" she thought to check. As it'd been a couple of months now, she'd just assumed that he would've been told.
"Jack and Yan, you mean?" March sank his teeth into his bottom lip, confirming that he did. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it when Eddie told me. It's such a shame ... they made a gorgeous couple, and they were so great together."
"Exactly, and they should still be together … which is why I desperately need to get hold of Tom; he's my last hope of getting a contact number for Jack over in the States."
The saddened eyes lit up. "Wait here a tick, I just might be able to help you there ….."
She'd always joked about finding March attractive, but the dimpled smile as it appeared sent Ellie weak at the knees. "Okay, you win, Ianto Jones ..." Still mumbling away to herself she watched the young stagehand disappear from sight. "... finally I get why you have such a thing for pretty boys."
Just minutes later, March returned with a scrap of paper bearing the address of the studio where Tom took his dance classes. "He usually takes a break for lunch between twelve and one. He even still pops back to see us occasionally." he forwarded helpfully.
Ellie studied the hand written details. "You're not gonna get into trouble for doing this, are you? I mean, you haven't been breaking into any locked cabinets or anything."
"Building manager's assistant's got the hots for me ..."
March was already chuckling away. "... she's twice my age and yet to realise that I'd rather stick my tongue down her boss' throat than hers." Sighing he sent his gaze skyward. "Els, he's fucking gorgeous, just the right side of forty and sooooo sexy." The grin reappeared. "Such a shame he's straight." Ellie swatted a shoulder that continued to shake with laughter.
"Hit him with the cute smile, he won't be able to resist you." she suggested ignoring the new and disapproving stare coming from the ticket office. March pouted his lips, temptingly sexy at her, then winked seductively. She pretended to fan herself. "Okay, can we stop this now ... I finally thought I knew what I wanted, but I'm really starting to get confused here."
"I won't say a word to Kelly." was promised with another wink."
"So ... Tom's not on tour with that other prat, then?" Ellie thought to check before shooting off round the streets on a wild goose chase.
March shook his head. His long floppy fringe did its usual in colliding with his lashes. He brushed it out of the way, giving Ellie a better view of the bright hazel eyes beneath. "Nah, he stayed behind. From what I've heard they've had a massive bust up. My guess is it was over the way Jerry treated Jack, but, anyway,Tom's at the studio most week days; the word on the vine is that the classes are all he's got to keep him going right now, but Eddie reckons Tom don't give a toss 'cause he's got a stupid-rich partner. Personally? I think the man has a secret obsession with Lycra; I'm pretty sure he goes to bed in it every night."
Their loud burst of laughter loosened many a weeks-worth of tension, and was a welcomed moment for Ellie. Thanking March she hugged him tightly. "Cheers Marchie, you've been just what the doctor ordered."
"Let me know how you get on." The stagehand accompanied her over to the exit. "And say hi to Lals and Gazebo for me - let them know I'm up for a replay of the three-play anytime they are."
"Only if I can get to watch again."
Pleased to be back on her mission, Ellie headed out onto the street with a wave. "And of course I'll let them know, you dirty little minx."
-o- -o- -o- -o-
EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV EV
-o- -o- -o- -o-
Ianto's soulie should've been lovin' life - floatin' on air at the very least. With the most positive lead so far at her fingertips, her eagerness to get a fix on Jack's home number had initially benefited from a new burst of Taylor-style enthusiasm. A warming coffee and a Quarter Pounder had provided some much needed refueling, then after a quick consultation with a helpful tourist's A to Z, the correct street and building had been located.
But since then all notable moments of progress had come to a dead stop and never, in the history of numb backsides, had a backside been more numb than Ellie Taylor's was right now. She'd been balanced on her tippy toes, with her backside perched upon a 'just too high to be ideal' concrete bollard, for longer than she cared to consider. The poor thing was seriously considering calling it a day, the whole idea was beginning to stink with the threat of it being a complete waste of time. Even Tom's usual time for nipping out to lunch had been and gone.
-o-
After a lot of soul-searching she decided to give it ten more minutes. She didn't realise it, but her final decision was fated to do her a massive favour.
In fact,, just five had time to pass.
"Hallelujah... and finally we have lift off ..." She watched Tom land cat-like on the pavement and slipped from her own perch.
Preparing to follow, with a smile she gave the hem of her jacket a confident tug. She felt neatened up, felt ready for anything; knew exactly what she was going to do.
Which is why what happened next threw her a little ...
Okay, it threw her a lot, but she was buggered if she was going to advertise the fact.
As the Taylor chin was raised a little higher in readiness, Tom continued to stride across the road in her direction. Her little heart was doing the whole fluttery butterfly thing…. but not in a good way ... he really wasn't her type at all.
"Okay ... you wanna tell me why you've been waiting out here for the last two and a half hours? You're Yan's friend, right?"
Ellie was rendered momentarily speechless. Bringing surprise number two to the plate, along with remembering her from Jack's first night party, the dancer was sounding nothing like as unhappy as she'd thought he'd be.
She decided it might be best to keep things short and sweet. "Tom, I really need your help. It's Jack and Yan ... they …"
"Yeah …" The hasty interruption really did make for a very short moment indeed; whether it would be sweet to boot, had yet to be discovered. "... I heard there'd been a parting of the ways."
Tom was looking genuinely sad. "Okay, it's sad," he confirmed appropriately, "But what happened has got nothing to do with me." A genuinely perplexed expression appeared. "Look, I'm sorry ... but I don't know where Jack is, if that's what you're thinking."
"What? Oh ... sorry, no. God, no, ... it's nothing like that." Aware that she was already sounding flustered, Ellie paused to catch her breath. "I mean, we know for definite that Jack's gone back to the States, it's just his number that we're after."
Tom shrugged, voiced his assumption with maybe just a hint of new suspicion creeping in. "Really? Surely Yan's got Jack's number."
"And that, I'm afraid, is where our problem begins." Cold hands were stuffed into jacket pockets. Big eyes peered desperately up at the dancer. "Unfortunately Yan is being very stubborn. He won't ring Jack himself, and he won't give any of us the number to get in contact with him either. It's just one big, stupid bloody mess; they're sitting on either side of the bloody Atlantic not knowing how the other's really feeling ... " A trainer was scuffed, a sigh was heaved. "... so we really need that number."
Checking out a passer by with no subtlety whatsoever, Tom found himself viewing the frowning waif side-long. "And you were confident I'd hand over Jack's details just like that, were you?"
Ellie shrugged. She was fast running out of exuberance and, anyway, she'd be lying if she said she'd been hoping for anything less from her target. "Well to be honest I thought that as you know how sensitive Jack can really be, you'd at least be able to appreciate how important it is that we get in contact with him." she explained half-heartedly, "It's his home number that we need, not his mobile ... that's been out of service for months."
A sympathetic smile appeared. "Seriously love, I really am sorry ... and believe it or not I do understand why you're doing this. But whether I have Jack's number or not is irrelevant, I'd never go handing out his private information just like that."
Lids fell. "Tom ... look ... this is the situation. There are two thoroughly miserable guys out there who desperately need a helping hand to make everything right. I'm not only running out of ideas myself, but I'm also losing the will to live so, please, can you not play games with me ... just put me out of my misery, am I simply wasting my time here? Have you actually got Jack's number, or are you just playing with me?"
The compassionate smile became one of amusement. "Actually, I've got every single one of his numbers, thanks. I copied them out of Jerry's folder when Jack first came over, just in case I needed to get hold of him once the run had finished."
"Well we, his closest friends, are now in desperate need of one of those numbers. I promise we won't tell anyone we got it from you."
"No."
"But you're Jack and Yan's last hope!"
The embarrassing whine was reined in a tad. "Tom, this could be the difference between them getting to sort their way through this mess, or never seeing each other again."
The smile above her, faded.
Someone was looking most unimpressed. "You're seriously trying to pin the blame for everything on me? Like their inability to communicate is my bloody fault or something?"
Ellie shook her head. "No, no of course I'm not. Doh, this is all going wrong!"
Tapping her right foot she looked along to the end of the road, thought for a bit, then looked back again. "Tom, I really am desperate … I don't know what else to say. Pleeeeease, can you let me have Jack's number?"
"No."
Brows shot inward to meet in the middle. "Okay look, I know you're not Yan's biggest fan but …."
"Actually, you're wrong …" Tom was smiling broadly again. "I have a lot of respect for the guy. Okay, yeah, I'll admit that initially he was the biggest pain in the arse going, but having got to know him a little better through Jack I can now understand why he acted how he did and, truthfully,on top of everything else I was pretty impressed with the way he stood up to Jerry, because, believe me, that's one guy that's not used to having anyone confront him like that. Let's just say I can now see what Jack sees in Yan ….. and I don't just mean the fact that he's as handsome as fuck."
"So you'll help us … you'll give me the number?"
A regretful sigh was heaved. "Sorry, it's still a no I'm afraid ... I don't want to get involved." Tom turned on the spot then began to head back from whence he came.
"Really?"
"Yes. Really. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
Trying to work her way through some very conflicting emotions Ellie's growing look of disappointment was for one reason only; she was genuinely starting to like the guy, but, she still had a job to do and sadly she'd now been given cause to use her below the belt back-up plan.
-o-
Feeling guilty, but knowing she mustn't show the fact, she gave her next move one last moment of serious thought before finally going for it.
"Tom?"
The call was successful in claiming his attention, but there was no turning back to acknowledge her.
"Look, I really didn't want to have to go down this route but ... okay, this is your last 'chance' to cooperate. Is that really your last word on the subject, Mr Summers? I mean, d'you really think you should be taking this much of a 'chance' on ending matters in this fashion ….. Chance?"
Tracks were retraced at speed, and this time Tom's mood was very different. "Okay, I don't know what you think you know about me young lady, but don't for one minute start to think that you can secure my assistance by ..."
"It is ... Chance Summers …. isn't it?"
Ellie peered casually down at her scarlet fingernails, brushed a thumb over them a couple of times - blew victoriously on them before looking up in silent expectation.
"Okaaaaay …. so you obviously know something you're not supposed to." A nervous, right-eye'd twitch appeared. It happened again, and again, and was successful in giving the game away; the dancer was feeling far more troubled than he was letting on. "So come on, what exactly is it you think you've got on me, how did you get hold of it in the first place, and what've I gotta do to keep it out of the public domain?"
Victory was in someone's sights. That elusive phone number was all but written down.
"Popped over to Ibiza for a few days last June. Brought something very interesting back through customs. Would you like to know what it is, Tom?"
Ellie paused, gave the man opposite her time to nod ... which he didn't.
She continued anyway. "You do? Okay then, I'll tell you." The tips of both forefingers were employed to draw a rectangular shape in the air. "It was a video, Tom. A video of you wearing, ooh let me see ... stockings, tight little panties, stilettos ... that kind of thing, and I have to say. Mr Summers, you looked pretty hot writhing round that pole. Later on, it also shows you getting your wicked way with this really, really young kid ... Perry, I think Yan said his name was. Oh, and let's not forget the best part ..."
As a restrained chuckle was finally vented, Tom's staid expression stayed the same.
"... this video?" Ellie was on a roll. "Tell me, has that old boss of yours ever really watched it back properly? Does he realise he can clearly be heard directing those filthy man on man moves that you and young Perry were pulling? He won't be very pleased with you if you fail to prevent his little masterpiece from hitting the streets, now will he?"
Big reveal complete, Ellie gave the evidence time to sink in. In a way she was quite sad that the moment was over. For months she'd been looking forward to one day having a reason to confront the dancer, if only to see the resulting look on his smug face. It'd been a good call on Yan's part, thinking to smuggle the video back in the first place. Not that he'd ever intended for it to be used under these circumstances of course - she suspected he'd even forgotten that she still had the thing boxed away beneath her bed.
It suddenly hit her. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do once today was over. Still, if the end result meant that her favourite couple would be reunited, she'd take the consequences gladly.
With the seconds still ticking, she looked away again. A couple in the distance,walking toward them was given a cursory glance, then she looked back, eager to gauge Tom's latest expression. Taking the wind out of her sails, she found that, if anything, the dancer had relaxed his stance a little, which was annoying to say the least. By this point he should've been feeling suitably horrified and damn well looking as such.
As Tom took a leisurely step in reverse, his posture softened even further. "Nice try kid." His smile was slowly turning into a sneer. "Yeah, okay, so you found a video of me and, yes, you've clearly watched it, but I happen to know for a fact that Jerry's been out to the villa since Jack and Yan got back ... and, guess what? He thought to check out that cupboard up in the loft that you lot obviously came across, and he's pretty convinced that no items have gone missing."
Ellie's tongue found the inside of her right cheek. "Interesting. He checked everything up there, did he?"
"Everything."
"You're certain?"
"Yes, miss clever pants, I'm certain, now stop trying to bluff me. He checked everything, and nothing had been taken."
Ellie nonchalantly checked the status of her pretty fingernails again. "So tell me ….. Chance … did he think to check the contents of each individual video case?" Oh this was becoming far too enjoyable. This time the nail-bound burst of air was delivered with a laugh interrupting its flow.
As he stood there watching the confident move, at last Tom's smile began to waver. "You tellin' me you switched cassettes?"
"We switched cassettes." was affirmed with a triumphant grin. "How fond of Kevin Costner and Sean Connery is he? 'Cause if he bothers to check out that bluey of you in your stilettos for real, he'll find himself watching The Untouchables instead."
One heavy head dropped forward.
Tom's sigh was deep and defeated. "Okaaaaay, come on then, let's get the dirty part out of the way. What have you done with the original, and how many copies have you made?"
"Help me get in contact with Jack and I promise you'll be reunited with everything single thing we have on you."
Recalling how agreeable her victim had been up 'til this point, Ellie was starting to feel a little sorry for him again. "Look, for what it's worth, only myself, Yan and Jack have seen your Oscar winning performance ….. but I'm sure I don't have to point out that there must be a shed-load of influential folk out there in theatre-land who'd be most interested to learn what you do as a side-line."
"A side ... Jesus! ... a side-line?!" Tom stared down, appalled. "It's not a side-line for fuck's sake. I've never been a part of Jerry's little set-up. It was just a laugh okay? Just something fun for me and Perry to do while we were out there."
"Of course it was." The grin was wide. Easily that of a champion. "I believe you ... millions wouldn't."
The accused's deep brown eyes lost their velvety lustre. "Okaaaay …. okaaaay, I'll help you. But you have to promise you'll hand over every single piece of evidence you have on me."
"Cross my heart and hope to die." Ellie dutifully crossed her heart then held three fingers up in the air. "Tom, I'm not interested in destroying anybody's career, none of us are. All we want is to get Jack and Yan back together, and to do that we need Jack's land-line over in the States ... if you let me have it I promise I won't tell him I got it from you."
The choreographer assessed the situation, rubbed thoughtfully at his chin for a very, very long moment.
"Do we have a deal?"
The fiery redhead was back on form. In holding out her right hand she was anticipating it was about to be shaken.
It wasn't.
"I'm only doing this because I want what's best for Jack." Tom announced bypassing on the chance to physically seal the deal. "But before we go ahead and do this, I need to be certain ... you're completely sure he still wants to be a part of this relationship with Yan, are you?"
Ellie thought this might be a good time to practise her best 'are you kiddin' me?' face, there was no way she was giving in now. "Tom, Jack's devastated. I saw him just before he went back to California. He was a wreck. He was devastated that things had gone so wrong ... and Yan's just as bad ... they're both heartbroken, but both too bloody stubborn to do anything to rectify the situation."
"This is the only deal I'm prepared to make." she was told sombrely. "I've only got the one class today …. actually that reminds me, I need to get back up there before a riot erupts over pre-paid fees …. so, if you can wait 'til I'm done I'll drive you over to my place. I'm certain Jack doesn't know my landline, so if he decides to ring it back he'll just get sent through to the automated ansafone, which means I should get away with this."
Ellie nodded her understanding.
"I'll be leaving here around four thirty, okay?" she was told. "I don't mind footing the bill, but I want your complete assurance that you'll be handing over all incriminating evidence."
She only just managed to ignore the impulse to hug the guy. "I have it all at my place, I'm the only one that knows where everything is, and I promise I'll hand the whole lot over as soon as we get back to mine. Thanks Tom."
"Okay, seems we have a deal. Just bear in mind that you won't get to know the number, okay? I'll be doing all the dialing so it's up to you to ask Jack to tell you what it is once we've made contact. I'm assuming you can hang around here until four thirty-ish. .."
"Yep …. not a problem."
"We'll make a move as soon as I'm ready; it's still getting dark relatively early and I don't relish the idea of driving you all the way over to bloody Hampstead at stupid o'clock at night."
The neatly coiffed action man bonce was given one firm nod. "Make sure you're here when I come out."
"I'll be ready and waiting." Ellie promised.
And, god, did she mean it.
-o- -o-
-o- -o-
JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH JH
-o- -o-
-o- -o-
Early evening ... GMT
-o-
Mid-morning …. California.
-o-
-o-
Things were moving along.
Not exactly nicely, but they were definitely moving along.
And all things considered, Jack knew he should be feeling very grateful indeed. That local gig he'd reluctantly agreed to take the lead in, was due to hold its opening night this Saturday coming. Not only would it provide him with a sufferable income for a while, it would also give him something positive to focus his thoughts on other than the state his love life.
Okay, make that his non-existent love life and, more to the point, how it might've been had he not decided to behave like the biggest jerk-off in London ... no ... make that: in history.
The irony to his tale (and there always was one), was that the very existence of this new show was a completely moot factor. No matter how distressing, he didn't want to stop thinking about 'what might have been', meaning he didn't need the show, he didn't need a reason to lose himself - and he'd never really been looking for a distraction at all.
Because he never ever, not for one single second, wanted to forget Ianto Jones. He'd become accustomed to drowning daily in this deepening pit of memories of his, he didn't want to pass any of them by ... even if they did sometimes make the pain ten times worse.
Of course, he hadn't reached the point of becoming a completely lost cause just yet. There were days when he'd force himself to just get on with things. But on others, it was true, his grief would leave him immobile, unable to function at all. To the point where he'd be unwilling to accept the existence of the outside world even.
These days were spent in his room. Not eating. Not drinking. Not talking.
Not existing.
And despite there being a very real need for his presence at rehearsals right now, so far today was easily one of those days.
"Jack honey, are you in there? Only ... you seem very quiet today …."
A pause, a deliberate opening for Jack to respond, was slipped into the carefully thought out moment of speech.
No reply seemed about ready to fill it. "…. only, I just wanted to let you know, sweetheart, that I'm going to be popping out for a while."
The original light tap from seconds earlier was gingerly repeated. "Jack? Are you gonna be okay on your own for an hour or so?"
Pushing the bedroom door inward, Gracie caught the day's first glimpse of her son. "Oh my lord …."
Tucked away, his back pushing tightly into the corner opposite his sheathed bedroom window, hearing his mom enter the room Jack lifted his head from his knees.
"Jack …." Gracie crouched down beside him. "Sweetheart you really can't go on like this." As her son stared at her, a matching set of wet parallel lines slid down over each cheek.
She pulled him into an awkward hug. The move proved to be the tipping point and with a choked sob Jack began to cry full force.
A couple of shuddering breaths were gasped inward. "I'm sorry ma, I'm really tryin', I swear I am, but … it's ….. so ….. hard …."
Jack's head lolled forward. A kiss was pressed to his left temple and he gave a couple of loud sniffs. "I miss him so much, and I ….. I …" The gasps were growing louder. "I'm sorry, ma, but I don't know how to make it better …"
There was no hesitation. "Well that's easy. You just get yourself back over to London, then you tell that young lad of yours exactly how you feel. THAT''S how you make this better, son."
Twisting on the balls of her feet then falling onto her side, Gracie sat as close as she possibly could. "Please Jack, I'm begging you sweetheart, you need to do something positive about this mess; you're really starting to worry me again."
As his head snapped up to find her, the expression on Jack's face was filled with nothing but regret. "Ma, I swear I'll never do anythin' stupid like that again." A snotty nose was sniffed then cuffed.
"I know …. I know …." Gracie maneuvered herself around a little more allowing her to pull a paper handkerchief free. "Here ….." With a scolding smile she handed it over. "…. take this. And by the way, you're old enough to know better! Don't use the back of your hand, you dirty little bugger."
Accepting the deserved, if only playful, clip round the ear, Jack used the tissue to blow his nose then started to laugh.
His mom used the tips of her fingers to soothe the point she'd just whacked. "That's better. Now, pull yourself together because we're both going downstairs and i'm going to make us both a nice cup of …"
"Ma, honestly, I'm fine. Really, you said it yourself - you need to go out and I'm sorry if I've made you late." Offering his hand in assistance, rising Jack forced the point by climbing to his feet.
Gracie seemed hesitant at first, her manner was uncertain as she allowed herself to be pulled upright. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? You know damn well I don't like leaving you here alone when you're like this. Hey, I know, how about you come downstairs anyway? You'll be better off in the land of the living. You could even save me a job and make yourself a drink ….. and then maybe you could think about giving young Ianto a ring. He …."
"Maaaaaaaa …"
"Okaaaaay, okaaaay, Mr Cowardy Custard, I'm shutting up - I don't want to start a row, but I'm going to have to insist that you come downstairs with me anyway; it's high time you showed that pasty face the light of day, oh and by the way, tonight you're going to be eating with the rest of us. Your brother's coming straight home for a change and we're having a full roast to celebrate you getting this new part of yours."
Looking almost embarrassed, Jack took a step back. "Honestly, I don't want any fuss. I thought I already told you and dad - this part is nothin' special, it's just a local production, that's all. Okay, yeah, Nick's good; knows how write a pretty tune an' all that, but he's definitely no Stephen Sondheim."
Gracie waved the explanation aside. Leading the way she took them both out onto to the main staircase. "It's getting you out of the house and up on stage singing again, that's all that really matters. You could be singing Pop Goes the bloody Weasel for all I care."
-o-
Down in the hallway Jack hugged his mom tightly. She laughed out a squeak as he rocked her to and fro.
"I'll be here down here ready an' waitin' when you get home." he promised, releasing her before opening the door with a smile.
"Oh, before I forget," she remembered, collecting up her clutch-bag and gloves, "I'm expecting your father to call with the name of that aircraft program he wants me to record for him … vintage something or other. If he does ring, make sure you write everything down word for word ... the state you're in, and what with me and my old brain, we're bound to get it wrong between us if you don't."
Pointing to the outside world, Jack responded with a tut. "Will you stop worrying? If he calls I'll make sure I get all the details you need, okay? Now go."
Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, with a playful shove Jack sent his mom on her way.
-o- -o-
-o- -o-
IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ IJ
-o- -o-
-o- -o-
Late evening …. Choreographer Heights …. Greater London
-o- -o-
The traffic had been bad, it was seven pm exactly. Ellie climbed from Tom's car to find herself pleasantly surprised by the grandeur of the home sat before her. She'd already heard plenty about it from Yan - despite getting paralytic on the night of his own visit, then briefly breaking up with Jack the very next day, he'd been eager to divulge all gossip regarding the house and its owner, and when he'd said you had to see the property to know exactly how very much its styling didn't suit Tom, he hadn't been far wrong.
"Shall we?" The man himself gestured for her to follow him over the impressive threshold.
Once inside, naturally he seemed eager to get the whole affair underway. Sitting straight down at his dining table he was deliberately ignoring all random comments regarding his ideas on interior design.
Flicking through the small notebook in front of him he quickly found the number he was looking for. "You sure you want to do this?" He looked up to catch Ellie's eye ... which was otherwise engaged. "You might actually be making the situation worse." he pointed out. Hearing the concerned tone and finally responding, a magenta topped head reappeared from the inside of a gold-tone, fringed shade.
Ellie didn't need to think twice - she turned away from the floor lamp nodding furiously.
Tom punched down on the digits then held the handset out for her to take.
"I hope you're doing the right thing ….." he whispered as she waited for the call to connect.
"It can't get any worse."
"Famous last words?"
"Shush." Someone didn't want to admit that her legs had gone suddenly shaky.
Sitting down alongside Tom, Ellie held a finger to her lips. Making her jump, the call was answered surprisingly quickly.
A lump formed at the base of her throat, the sudden stinging feeling at the inner corner of each eye quickly became her first teardrops of the day.
God, how she'd missed that voice.
She'd know it absolutely anywhere.
It was Jack, no doubt about it ….
.
.
….. and for the first time in all of her twenty six years …. ... Ellie Taylor didn't have a clue what to say.
-o- -o-
-o- -o-
tbc.