A/N: Hey guys, I've decided to continue with my story as I just want to finish it now. I started this a year ago as something to do over the summer, and I am honestly overwhelmed by the amount of support I've received about it. I'm aiming to finish the whole story by September, and am aiming to upload four chapters every month (so weekly, apart from i know that i won't have internet access at some points during this period, so I'll be uploading early to keep on schedule.) So, yeah, I'll be chuffed if I can say I've managed to write a story in a year!
Thanks you to all who have reviewed and supported me. I wouldn't write if it weren't for you- so let's finally finish this! Woohoo!
I woke late on Monday, which made for a pleasant change from the past few days. Well, I say late, yet late meant that I was up by nine, and had taken Monty on one of his daily walks soon after. A hyperactive puppy meant that it was nigh on impossible to spend the morning in bed, something the breeder had neglected to tell me when purchasing him, although it was hardly surprising- he was a labrador.
Monday also brought news from Sam in the form of a text. He said he'd catch up with me properly when he got back, as he was now en-route to Edinburgh to find Elinor, and there was too much to explain over text. He did say, however, that he and Catherine were most definitely over, and that he was hoping Elinor would give them another shot, adding that I should do the same with Will. He was completely unapologetic about his actions that led to Will finding me again, and asked when our wedding was going to be. Replying, I assured him that there never was going to be a wedding between Will and I, and wished him the best in his quest to find Elinor. He was a great guy, and I was sure she'd fall head over heels in love with him as soon as she got to know him, and I told him so, asking me to keep him updated with his progress. He promised he would.
The weather had returned to its usual, dreary state- a far cry from the hot Parisian sun I'd been experiencing a few days earlier. Completing our usual circuit, we headed back to the flat, only stopping to pop into the little Tesco on the high street to buy some fruit. Strawberries were beginning to come into season, and they, smothered in Nutella were my guilty pleasure.
Arriving back at the flat, I fed Monty, and made myself some toast. Today, I'd decided, was to be a day full of errands. I always had hundreds of things that needed doing, but only when school stopped did I finally get round to doing them. First I needed to go food shopping, then I had to collect some more craft supplies for school and go to the post office to return an ASOS order that didn't fit, before heading off to get my hair cut in the afternoon. It was a busy morning, but I was back home by 12.30 to grab Monty and put my shopping away before my haircut.
I hated the hairdressers. Monty, on the other hand, absolutely loved it. He was pampered- ridiculously so. My hairdresser had an obsession with Labradors, and after first hearing about my new pet from then on insisted he come with me to all of my appointments, despite the fact that I was pretty sure dogs weren't allowed in salons. Thankfully, Monty always behaved himself of such trips; wagging his tail, and shooting the hairdressers doleful looks from his spot by my feet. Not once did the hound from hell that woke me up at silly o'clock every morning make an appearance. It figured. I left the shop an hour later, complete with tamed, poker straight hair a couple of inches shorter than it had been, and a very sleepy puppy. All in all, it hadn't been too painful a procedure, only mildly unpleasant, which was a relief. My idea of an afternoon well spent did not comprise of listening to my hairdresser's inane babbling about her ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend, whilst having my hair yanked in every direction. Still, it was over now, and I was glad to be on my way home at last. I was looking forward to a cosy, boy-free night in with a glass of wine, and a cheesy sitcom on the telly.
Walking back from the hairdressers didn't take us long, as it was only a twenty minute walk from the flat, giving Monty plenty of time to do his business before his tea. Still, he always insisted on doing it in the most inconvenient of places; I swear he knew what he was doing, and just wanted to watch me squirm when having to pick up his droppings from someone's front lawn. He was the devil incarnate at such times, I'm sure.
Arriving home half an hour later, I was fishing out my keys to let us in when I heard someone shouting from behind me.
"Excuse me, Miss" I turned, and saw a red-faced delivery boy jogging towards me with a brown cardboard box tucked under his arm.
"Do you live here, Miss?" He asked, motioning to the door as he caught up with me. I nodded.
"A Miss Alexis Anderson, is that right?" He questioned, glancing down at the label on the parcel.
"Yes, that's me." I replied.
"Right. If you could sign here then please, Miss. Then the parcel's all yours." He pulled out a touch-screen delivery recording device, and indicated to the spot where I was to sign.
"I'm sorry, but I think you must have the wrong address- I haven't ordered anything."
"Nah, love, I think it's definitely for you. Look: this is you, isn't it?" He pointed to the label to prove his point.
"Yes…" I replied, but I was perplexed.
"Right, if you could just sign here for me, Miss." He thrust his hand-held machine at me, and I signed accordingly- he didn't seem like one to take no for an answer, somewhat like a certain American I knew...
"Thanks." He said once I'd finished, passing me over the parcel and taking back his machine. "Have a nice day, Miss."
"Thanks. You too" I echoed absently, watching him walk back down the corridor. I looked down at the package he'd handed to me, scanning over the label once more. He was right, it was definitely addressed to me, but who had sent it? Alice was the only person to send me things as a surprise, but such parcels were rare, and she nearly always told me advance. Besides, it couldn't be her- there was no French stamp on the packaging. Even more confused, I opened up the flat and made my way to the kitchen- intent on opening it as soon as possible, to solve the mystery. There were no discernible markings on the packaging, so I really had no idea what was inside. Monty scurried after me, as if sensing my intrigue. Dropping the parcel on the table, I grabbed a pair of scissors, and began to hack my way into the box. As soon as I broke the seal I was met by lingerie. Lots and lots of very expensive, very beautiful, Victoria's Secret lingerie. Tucked in amongst the bras and pants was a typewritten note:
'In exchange for the one I took yesterday x'
Well that cleared the mystery right up. There was only one person, one very infuriating person, who could have sent me this, and I knew exactly who. If this was his way of trying to win me round, then it most definitely was not working, and it never would. Grabbing my phone from my handbag I angrily punched in his number. He wasn't getting away with this. He answered after a few rings.
"Hello?" came the dazed voice from the other end.
"Just what were you thinking?" I spat out through gritted teeth, offering no other explanation.
"What?" He yawned. Bloody hell, he was slow to catch on.
"The parcel, Will!"
"Babe, it's 9am here- I only got back home a couple of hours ago, you're gonna have to explain." Oops. I'd completely forgotten about the time delay, and the fact that he'd spent most of yesterday and the early hours of today getting back home.
"Why did you send me a parcel full of lingerie?"
"Oh, that parcel! Did you like it?"
"No." There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line.
"Not even a little bit?" I sighed, he wasn't getting the message. It wasn't that I didn't like his gift; on the contrary- the underwear was stuff that I'd actually be able to wear, unlike the knickers made of dental floss that Rach had purchased for me yesterday. No, it wasn't that they were bad, it was that I felt uncomfortable with him buying me gifts when we were nothing more than casual acquaintances. I didn't want to give him false hope. We weren't going to be anything more than friends.
"You sure about that? I know all about your penchant for lingerie. Would you mind modelling them for me?"
"You are incorrigible!" I gasped at his audacity, ignoring the warm fluttery feeling in my stomach when I heard him laugh down the line in response.
"Guilty as charged m'am."
"I'm giving them back to you as soon as I see you." I warned.
"But I won't accept them- they're not really my thing, or my size."
"I'll post them then."
"You don't know where I live, babe." He countered. I growled in frustration, and he laughed harder.
"I will find out where you live."
"You're gone stalk me, are you, Alexis?"
"No, I'm going to ring the Net."
"They won't give out personal information, it's against the rules."
"Then how did you get my address?" I countered.
"I think you know the answer to that." Of course I did. I'd forgotten his family were in charge of the whole event, and that he could use that to his advantage.
"Okay, fine, you got me. Well… Well, I'll send them to the Net's headquarters. You'll just have to collect it from there." I huffed.
"Alexis, don't you think sending lingerie to the savant Net is kind of weird? Besides, my Mum and Dad have to open all the parcels sent to the Net, to check they're not dangerous- we've had some nasty stuff sent before, and it's only Dad's gift that's stopped people getting hurt. Look, Lex, I know you have a thing for my mother- you made that very clear at the convention, but don't you think sending her second-hand lingerie is a bit strange, not to mention a bit forward. I don't think my Dad would take too kindly to it either. And, if I sent you the lingerie, and you send it to my Mother, it's like I'm sending my own Mum lingerie in a round-about way, which makes it really odd. So, maybe you should just keep them. I think that's the best for everyone" I groaned. He'd got me there- I'd all but forgotten how I'd previously embarrassed myself by pretending to fancy her.
"Okay, fine, Will. You win. I won't send them to you, but I will give them back to you the next time I see you, okay?"
"So, when are you next coming to see me, then? It's okay, Alexis, you can come and see me anytime you want- you don't have to use underwear as an excuse.. although you could wear it to come and see me." He added as an afterthought.
"You are infuriating, Will!" I exclaimed. He laughed down the line, knowing he'd managed to get one over on me again. How did he always manage to do that?
"That's why you love me!" He added cheekily, and I let out a strangled snort in response. Love was definitely an emotion I felt for Will Benedict. "Right, now that we've sorted this out I'm going to go back to bed."
"Okay. Sorry for waking you up."
"You can ring me whenever, Lex. Seriously- whenever. Talk to you later babe."
"Sweet dreams."
"They will be if you're in them- especially if you're wearing my gifts." He laughed to himself, and I couldn't think up a response. He was a dirty-minded little sod, that was for sure! "Speak soon, babe." And with that he hung up the phone, leaving me, once again, under his spell. Just how did he do it? How did he manage to effortlessly manipulate every single conversation we had?
Picking up a pair of the pants I fingered the silky lace trim. They were really beautiful, and I didn't really want to give them back, but it was a matter of principle. I didn't like accepting such lavish gifts, especially when we weren't, nor would we ever be, anything more than friends. Sighing, I dropped the pants back into the box, and took the box to my room, where I stuffed it at the very back of my wardrobe. I did not need my nosy mother discovering it, and its contents before I'd had chance to give them back.
Sighing, I headed to the door to collect my post, before going to the kitchen to make myself some tea, and feed Monty his. I wasn't all that hungry, and I couldn't be bothered to cook, so beans on toast would have to suffice. Grabbing the post from the doormat I wandered back to the kitchen to get Monty his dinner- a can of beef and gravy dog food. Well, it certainly sounded more appealing than my meal of beans on toast!
"Monty!" I shouted, once I'd put out his dinner, and re-filled his water bowl. Sure enough, a ball of golden fur came whizzing through the kitchen door soon after. Laughing, I sat down to sort through my post. Undoubtedly, it would all be bills- it always was. Sure enough, I had a bill from Severn Trent and British Gas. My pay-check did not stretch quite as far as I would have liked it to. Picking up the last one, I turned to see Monty growling at me. It was strange, he was never usually aggressive.
"What's up, boy" I asked, concerned. He continued to growl.
"What is it?" I repeated- his behaviour was so out of character, and even stranger, considering he was completely fine a few seconds ago. Dropping the last letter onto the table I reached down to pick him up, hoping it would sooth him. Stroking him softly I murmured in his ear in an attempt to calm him, but he was having none of it- squirming in my lap in a desperate bid to get away. Suddenly, he managed to snatch my unopened letter in his jaw, leap from the table, run off with it!
"Monty- that's mine!" I yelled, chasing after the thieving puppy. I didn't understand why he was so concerned by the letter. Cornering him by the sofa I wrestled it out of his jaw, but he didn't give up easily. Unfortunately, it was now covered in dog slobber, and toothmarks. Standing, I opened it, ignoring Monty who was now growling with his hackles raised at my feet. Inside the envelope were photographs. Photographs of me at the convention; me sat during the video with Sam, me walking to the 'matching room', and me sat at my table during matching. I wasn't looking at the camera during any of the photos, and I hadn't remembered having my photograph taken. This was creepy. Shuffling through the photographs once more, I saw that someone had written on the back.
'You're mine. We will be together, my love.'
The photographs dropped from my hand. This was unnerving. Monty pounced on the falling polaroids, promptly shredding them before my eyes, and I was glad. Why had Will sent those? I mean the underwear was fine in comparison- nothing more than a tongue-in-cheek gesture, but the photographs? They were creepy, really, really creepy. How had he known I was his soulfinder before we'd even been properly introduced? Picking up the remains from Monty, I slotted them back into the envelope and went to tuck them in my letter stack on the kitchen window sill. I would confront Will about them later- I didn't want to ring him, and interrupt his sleep again. Shaking it off, I tried to make my tea and forget about it. Monty had since returned to his usual, smiley self, and was now happily yipping around the flat, as if his angry strop at the letter had never happened. But I couldn't stop thinking about the caption- it haunted my dreams that night. Just why would Will do such a thing?
