Martha Meets Peter and Sophia
A/N:God, I'm bad with titles. Anyway, this is probably going to be the last part of this tale that will be posted for a long while. First off, because I need to write more and fill in the blanks before the next big arc, and secondly because it's been WAY too quiet lately. No one's updating or reviewing and I'm tired of writing for no one. The stats go up and up, but the reviews stay down. I have to know, is anyone actually reading, or are you all just skimming through it and clicking on and off? I refuse to believe anyone can read every single chapter and have not a word to say. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this while it lasted. I'll come back when I have more…maybe.
Timeline: Early April 2012
Martha sat, waiting while the speaker for the jury gave the result of a five-day, high profile trial she had been working on. It was a murder charge involving one of the higher up judges in the greater Manchester area. The defendant being a nineteen-year-old boy with a long track record and high suspicions about him. Simply working out the opening had taken a day and half for her.
"On count one of the indictment, have the jury reached a verdict upon which all of you are agreed?" The clerk asked.
"Yes," The speaker replied.
"Do you find the defendant, Patrick Ridgewell guilty or not guilty of murder?"
"Guilty."
Martha inwardly sighed, sitting back as she glanced at Caroline, who tried her best not to smile.
'Of course she wants to smile…She was the one who told me it was a losing battle to begin with…' She thought as she stood on the judge's order and then left, wanting to head back to chambers as soon as possible to get started on her newest case. Billy hadn't told her much about it, just that it was a kidnapping and would go on for four days starting the following day.
As soon as she stepped into chambers, she marked the finished case as guilty, put it in the proper pigeon hole for the solicitor and was immediately handed the next case.
"It's been waiting all day," Billy said as he handed it to her.
"I know. I couldn't get down here this morning to look at it. Thank you Billy," Martha replied, quickly looking it over before heading off to her room, her mobile going off as soon as she set the brief down.
"Hello?" She asked upon answering.
"Martha, it's John. Are you still coming over tonight?" John said over the line.
"Of course. Seven, right?"
"Seven."
"I promise I'll be there. I'm sorry about lunch last week. My trial ran over."
"I know. You don't have to keep apologizing."
"I stood you up, John."
"Yes, but you didn't do it on purpose. Stuff happens, Martha."
"Alright, I'll drop it. I'll see you tonight, okay?"
"Alright, bye."
"Bye," Martha said before she hung up. She then let out a small sigh and then turned to her brief, not looking up when Clive entered the room.
"Martha?" He asked.
"What?"
He said dropped a note on her desk. "From Niamh. She was on her way out and told me to give this to you."
'What are we? School children?' Martha thought, looking at the note.
"Oh, and the kidnapping…" Clive started.
"Hm?"
"I'm co-defending."
"Alright. Start looking through it then," She said as she opened the note, which was just Niamh wishing her good luck on her date with a small note to give her a ring a bit later. She then quickly ripped it up before turning back to her work. She and Clive ended up spending three hours reading through pages and working out the opening defense before she decided that she had enough and it was time to leave.
"Wait…What are you doing?" Clive asked as she gathered her things.
"Going home. I can finish this there," She said.
"Why are you in such a rush?"
"Felicia and Niamh are dragging me out tonight again. That's what the note was about," Martha lied. "Give me a ring if you find anything." At that, she headed out before any questions could be asked. Once she stepped into her flat, she set the brief on a table and quickly ran off to her bedroom to throw together an outfit for her date that night. The moment she stepped into the bedroom, she headed to her wardrobe and began sieving through it, soon resorting to just throwing things around the way that Niamh did when they went through the wardrobe days ago.
'I can't believe we got rid of nearly a third of my clothes! What was she thinking? What was I thinking? Letting her do that…What's this?' She thought as she ran her hand over something and pulled out a dark, hunter-green skirt. 'I remember this…From that shopping trip I blew sixty pounds on…Do I even have a blouse that matches?' She quickly gathered the clothes around her and shoved them back in the drawer, opening the one above it shortly afterwards. After a small search, she pulled out a navy-blue wrap blouse and moved on to the last drawer, pulling from it a lacy, white camisole. 'Perfect! Now all I have to do is find some shoes to match…God, I'm turning into Niamh!' Martha thought as she threw the outfit aside and headed off to do a bit more work on her brief before actually getting ready for the night. At five, she headed into the bathroom for a quick bath, getting out a half hour later and finishing off with a few sprtizes of an after-shower, strawberry body mist. She decided to simply brush out her hair, thinking that it was fine and spent only a small amount of time on her makeup, as it was a casual occasion and didn't call for much. She only used a bit of mascara, a layer of navy-blue eye shadow to match the top and accentuate her eyes and decided on a light-pink lipstick rather than the red she often favoured. After a double-check, she quickly dressed and spent ten minutes searching for proper accessories. Eventually, Martha finally settled on a small, simple, braided silver chain and a pair of rhinestone stud earrings that passed as diamonds.
'I think I'm getting too good at this…' Martha thought as she looked herself over in the mirror. She then glanced at the clock, and, realizing she had plenty of time, she sat down to look over a few more details of her brief before heading off. She arrived with time to spare, surprising John when he opened the door.
"Martha…You're early!" He said, flustered due to his not being done with dinner.
"Nice greeting," She teased.
"I'm sorry, I'm just…" He stopped as a timer went off in the background. "Excuse me." He ran off and she let herself in, knowing she was more than welcome.
"It's not a problem, what are you making?"
"Chicken cordon bleu, which is what this timer was for…" John said, muttering the last part as he checked the dish and pulled it from the oven. Then, he turned back to Martha and set his hands on her shoulders. "Now that that's done. You look beautiful," He complimented, ending with a light kiss.
"That's better," Martha teased with a smile.
"I'm really sorry about this, I didn't expect you to be early, and on top of that I got a late start and…"
"It's fine. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No. Everything's done now. I was just hoping to have the plates on the table before you arrived."
Martha simply shrugged and headed back into the lounge. "Do you mind if I put some music on?"
"Not at all," He replied as he quickly got plates out and started to serve the food.
After a quick look through his CD collection, Martha decided on a slow, easy jazz mix and headed back into the kitchen.
"I didn't know you liked this kind of music," He said, remembering what he had seen of her music collection back at her flat.
"I like all kinds of music," Martha replied. "Being honest I've never been too good with people and music has always been my way of making connections. I know it sounds pathetic, but…"
"Not at all," John said as he set the plates on the table, watching as Martha made her way to it and sat. "We all have our quirks, Martha. History has always been my way of connecting with people." He finished, setting two glasses of wine down as he spoke.
"Nice to know I am not alone in weird connections, then," She said with a smile as they finally started to eat, taking occasional breaks in their meal for small talk about whatever came to mind. Martha's cases, John's classes and other odd little happenings in their lives. Finally, near the end, John sighed and decided to finally bring up the reason he asked her over in the first place.
"I'm going to be honest," He started. "I didn't just call you over for dinner."
"What did you call me over for then?"
"Well, we've been together for awhile and…"
"Are you breaking up with me?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow.
"What? No. Can I start over?"
Martha nodded.
"I'll get to the point then. I think it's time that you met Peter and Sophia."
"You want me to meet your kids?"
"Yes."
Martha narrowed her eyes and gave him a swift kick under the table.
"Ow! What was that for?!" John asked.
"Don't you dare scare me like that again! I honestly thought you were dumping me!"
'If this is what you do when you thinkI'm going to break up with you, I'm scared to find out what will happen if I actually do…' John thought.
"Why do you want me to meet them now?"
"Because we've been together for a few weeks and it's better for you to meet them sooner than later. I've avoided it until now because I like to wait until I'm sure things are becoming serious."
"Why is that?" Martha asked.
"I know it sounds selfish, but I don't want to give up after one or two dates simply because their first impression isn't great. I want to be able to give a woman a chance first. Besides, they haven't had the best experience with Emily's boyfriend and I also want to make sure I'm comfortable with my girlfriend meeting them. The extra wait gives me a bit of time to know the woman better than two or three dates would."
"It's not selfish and it makes sense. I went through the same thing with my mum when I was younger and found that we both preferred it when she waited. I liked to know that she was serious and that all the men weren't just quick flings, because she's had a few of those."
"Do you think you're ready to meet the kids?"
Martha nodded. "I'd love to meet them as long as you're comfortable with it."
"If I wasn't I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place," John pointed out.
"When do you want to do it?"
"I only have them on the weekends and there's no holidays coming up…hold on." At that, John got up and headed off into the lounge, immediately coming back with a small, black planner. "Are you free for dinner next Friday?"
"I should be."
"Alright, we'll do it then," He said as he penciled it in. "Are you finished?"
"Yes," She said, knowing he was talking about her plate. "Do you want me to help with the dishes?"
"No. I can do it. You just sit down. I have a surprise for you."
Martha did as she was told and stayed in her spot while John washed the dishes and then started the dishwasher.
"Now that that's done…" He muttered as he made his way to the fridge. "Close your eyes."
Martha did so and, as soon as he said it was okay, opened her eyes to find a silver platter of chocolate covered strawberries in front of her. "John! You didn't!" She said.
"I did, for an hour and a half. The chocolate wouldn't cooperate."
In an instant, she was out of her chair and throwing her arms around him.
"I guess I found the way to your heart," He joked. "I was thinking we could eat these and watch a film."
"What kind of film?"
"Anything you want."
"No, I picked last time. It's your turn."
"Give me a moment then," He said as he headed into the lounge with Martha following close behind with the tray. After a quick look, he decided on the only romance film he had laying around, knowing Martha enjoyed them. It had been a gag gift from his brother from last Christmas and remained unopened.
"I've never opened this, so I can't tell you whether it's decent or not," He said.
Martha simply shrugged and settled on the sofa, grabbing a strawberry once she was comfortable. "Dark chocolate?" She asked.
"You said it was your favourite," John replied as he joined her.
Martha smiled. She would never say it aloud, but he knew that she loved when he remembered the small details she told him about herself. She moved closer to him, and they spent some time laughing and eating before settling down to watch the film.
He leaned against the edge of the sofa near the arm and she leaned on him, gently laying her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her. Once they were settled, he gave her a light kiss on the head and she sighed contently, soon getting wrapped up in the film's story while he fought to stay awake at times.
'I will never understand what women see in these films…' He thought. 'They all have the same plot. Man meets woman, they fall in love, they fight, makeup and then get married. They could at least add some mystery. That, I could take. But she doesn't like murder stories.' He was suddenly awake as it ended, glad that he didn't have to sit through it anymore. He then waited until Martha sat up to get up, stop the film and take the DVD from the player.
"It's not the best one I've seen, but it was decent," Martha concluded.
"Martha, it had the same plot as every other romance out there. Single, independent woman not looking for love just happens to run into it."
"Sounds like us," She pointed out.
"Except I didn't have to stalk you to make you like me."
"All it took was a little phone call," She said as he made his way back to the sofa.
"And some luck on my end. I haven't had the best dating experiences since the divorce," John admitted.
"But that doesn't matter now, right?" Martha insisted.
"Not when I have you," John replied, ending with a soft kiss that quickly grew deeper as Martha moved closer.
She eagerly returned the kiss with several more and John wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her right where he wanted her.
'What are we doing?' Martha thought.
'It's like we're a couple of teenagers! And…It's hot,' John thought as Martha softly moaned against his lips. Eventually, he forced himself to stop and quickly pulled away, afraid that it might go too far if they kept going.
"I should probably leave…I have a big trial tomorrow," Martha said.
"Martha," John grabbed her wrist as she got up. "I'm sorry, I just…I don't want…"
"I know. Don't worry about it," She said with a smile. "But it's late. I really do have to go. I want to get some work in before bed. I'll see you when I can." She then moved to grab her jacket, not at all surprised when he hung back and then opened the door for her. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely," She complimented, leaving him with a light kiss.
"I'll call you soon," John promised, watching as she left and headed down the stairs at the end of the hall.
Once at home, Martha immediately got back to work on the brief, overlooking the details given and working out the opening defense.
'There's evidence of the child's fingerprints in the vehicle and his in the house…It's all slam-dunk forensics and the prosecution will know that…We just have to find the reason for this…But there's no mention of a family relation between the child and the captor cutting out the reason of a simple ride,' She thought, sighing as she flipped a page and then glanced at the clock. 'It's past twelve…I should probably get changed.' At that, she got up, headed into the bedroom and changed into a simple, blue, satin pyjama set before returning to work. She ended up working up until two AM before finally deciding to sleep, knowing she'd have to be up in four hours. However, just an hour later she was woken up by her mobile, which she answered after glaring at the ID.
"What Clive?!" She snapped.
"I think I may have found a loophole that…are you okay?" Clive asked on the other line.
"Of course not! You woke me up! It's three in the bloody morning for God's sakes!" Martha snapped.
"Oh, well…I think I may have…"
"Goodnight, Clive," She snapped, cutting the call off a third of the way through his explanation. She then put the ringer on silent, turned over and went back to sleep.
When she woke three hours later, Martha found two missed calls from Clive and a sweet text from John wishing her a good day. She smiled at John's message and sighed at the calls, deciding to ignore Clive for the time being. Instead, she got up to take her shower and called him back when she was finished and fully dressed.
"Martha?" He asked when he answered.
"What did you want last night?" She asked.
"I looked into some of the unused and it turns out the victim is the client's niece."
"And with family relation we can make a better argument…I hope."
"When's the con, again?"
"At ten. Trial starts at eleven thirty."
"Alright," Clive made a mental note and then hung up.
Martha let out an aggravated sigh, threw together something for breakfast and immediately went back to work, wanting to be fully prepared before she arrived for the pre-trial con. She was in chambers at eight, looking over notes with Clive for an hour or so before they headed off to court. Unfortunately, the information the client gave them wasn't much help, but, regardless both Martha and Clive tried their best to present a decent defense in hopes of getting their clients off.
"I'm not sure about that," Martha said as they left the courthouse after the post-trial con.
"Not sure about what?" Clive asked.
"The defense. The prosecution tore it down. We need to find more hidden details," She said as they approached her car. "You're not coming," She added when Clive reached for the door.
"But, Martha, what…?"
"I'm meeting Niamh for lunch," She explained as she climbed in.
"How am I supposed to get back?"
"We've been over this, Clive. Take the underground."
"The tube?" He asked with a disgusted look.
Martha said nothing and simply drove off. She arrived at Niamh's flat a few minutes late, but she knew it wouldn't be a big deal.
"It's open!" Niamh called when Martha knocked.
Martha opened the door to find Niamh putting the finishing touches on a pork dish, a purple apron covering her court clothes. "How'd your trial go?" She asked.
"Alright. My codefendant is basically useless though," Niamh said as she threw the apron off.
"I see more of Nick's stuff has made its way here," Martha pointed out, eyeing the box of clothing in the corner.
Nick and Niamh had been working on moving in together for nearly a month, but were doing it slowly to make sure they had time to put it all together and that they didn't forget anything.
Niamh nodded. "He dropped it off before we went to chambers this morning. It's the last box of clothing we have to go through. All that's left is the stuff he knows he's keeping. That'll be the last thing brought over. He's working on selling the furniture he doesn't need."
Martha simply nodded as she sat down at the table. "Thank you for inviting me over," She said.
"No problem. I felt like cooking for someone and Nick has two back-to-back trials."
"So he's getting better work?"
"It fluxuates really. Some trials are good, like the murders, but others are small and boring like traffic cases," Niamh explained as they finally began to eat.
"What is this?" Martha asked halfway through the meal.
"A Thai-inspired pork dish. It's something new I'm trying out. What do you think?"
"I like it. It's different than what I'm used to, but it's really good."
"Are you sure? I think it could use a bit of tweaking here and there…"
"Try it then. You're a chef, aren't you?"
"Not by profession, but, yes," Niamh said. "How's it going with John?" She asked, wanting a change in subject.
"It's going great, actually."
"Actually?"
"It's been a long time since I've been in a relationship, especially one not rife with fake drama and jealousy."
"So, he's grounded?"
"I like to think so. He wants me to meet his kids."
"Wait…what?"
Martha nodded. "We're all having dinner together on Friday. Next Friday," She added, not wanting Niamh to think she had only been given two days' notice, since it was a Thursday.
"Why'd he wait so long? It's been over a month, hasn't it?"
"He likes to wait to make sure he's comfortable with his girlfriends being around his kids, plus it helps him form his own opinion instead of dumping a woman simply because Peter and Sophia's first impressions aren't great."
"Isn't that a bit selfish?"
"Not really. I makes sense to me. I'd hate to be dumped after two or three dates just because the kids say I'm not suitable. Besides, it's more of a case-by-case thing."
"True," Niamh agreed as she picked up their plates. "Do you want something for dessert? I made cookies last night."
"What kind of cookies?"
"Double chocolate."
"Alright, I'll try one."
Niamh smiled and retrieved one from the jar on the counter before moving onto the dishes.
"Do you want some help?" Martha asked.
"No, I've got it."
"I guess I'll head out then. Thank you for lunch."
"I told you, it's no problem," Niamh said with a smile as Martha left. She ended up going to Clive's flat rather than home to go over what they had said that day and create a better defense.
"So, one is the victim's uncle, but what about the other?"
"The boy is a friend of his brought along for the ride. It looks like."
"So you've got the easy client," Martha sighed.
"They're in the same level of trouble, Martha," Clive said.
"No they're not. You can argue naivety and him just being an accessory. I'm the one who got screwed over," She snapped as she gathered her things.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I'm not letting you cut my throat, again." At that, Martha left. They had done a case similar to this one before, with Clive's client being lower on the list and easier to get off. Not only had he gotten a lower sentence, but his defense had made the sentence of Martha's client longer and harsher.
She returned home a little after seven and, as soon as she was in the door, she ran off to get changed and threw together a small dinner before getting back to work, only to be interrupted less than an hour after she started by a knock. Confused, she answered the door and found Billy.
"Billy?" She asked.
"Can I come in? I didn't get a chance to talk with you today." Billy said.
"Come in," Martha sighed motioning him in as she walked away. She headed into the kitchen, ready to grab two drinks, and suddenly turned at the sound of a 'thump' behind her. "What is that?!" She said, eyeing the huge brief on the table.
"Just came in today. A huge drug charge for heroine importation. It's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"When's it start?"
"Monday."
"My kidnapping trial runs until Tuesday," She reminded him.
"Come on. If anyone can handle it, you can."
"What time?"
"Two. Which is fine because the kidnapping is at ten."
"But no one knows how long it'll go on for."
"This one is the third on in court five. Isn't the other the first?"
"Yes."
"The solicitor originally wanted you to do a murder, but I had to tell him no."
"Why?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.
"Conflict of interest with the judge," Billy explained. "Niamh's father is doing the murder."
Martha nodded, knowing his concern. "Do I have a choice?"
"Yes, but it would probably be better for you to take this on."
"Can I think about it and give you my answer tomorrow?" She asked, turning back to the fridge.
"First thing."
Martha nodded in agreement and handed him a beer. "It's not that I don't want to do it. I do, it's just…"
"I know, I know. You're already booked through next month."
"And I haven't even received half those briefs yet."
"You will in time," Billy assured her, then he stopped and tilted his head. "What does your shirt say?" He asked, eyeing the design on her light-blue nightshirt.
"Hm?" Martha said. She looked down at the small, sleeping teddy bear emblem with the cute, blue letters underneath. "Bearly Awake," She read.
Billy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more about it. They talked about court and chambers matters until he finished his drink and left Martha with her two briefs. After looking the new one over for a bit, she decided to take it on and then shifted focus to her current trial, knowing it was going to be a long night.
She ended up not going to bed until three AM, and was back up again at six to prepare for her trial at eleven. However, this time she was going in alone, wanting nothing to do with Clive and his opportunity to cut her throat. By the end of that day's session, things were still looking bad for her client, but she was determined to press on. Unfortunately, when it was all over the following Tuesday both clients ended up with a guilty verdict, though she did manage to get the sentence lowered a bit. She then put all her effort into the drug case she had been given, which ended on Friday with a not guilty verdict, due to a lack of forensic evidence and Martha's well thought out defense.
As soon as she stepped out of the courtroom after the conclusion of the trial, her mobile went off and, after glancing at the ID, she answered, "John?"
"I don't have much time," John said. "I just wanted to confirm our date tonight."
"It's still on. What time am I supposed to be there, again?"
"Six. Emily's dropping the kids off after Peter's piano lesson. I should have dinner ready by then too."
"Don't make dinner," Martha said.
"What?"
"You heard me. I think that should wait until Peter and Sophia arrive. We could all make dinner together."
"What?" John repeated.
"I remember doing that with my mother and a boyfriend when I was twelve. He was a chef and wanted to cook with me to get to know me better. It worked well and I was more at ease with him after that. It takes away some of the tension."
John thought for a minute and said, "That actually sounds like a good idea. But, I was going to make spaghetti and…"
"Then they can help make meatballs and add vegetables to the sauce, things like that."
"Are you sure you're not a mum?"
"I'm sure. I've just been there, done that."
"I'll see you later then. I'd talk more but my lunch is up and…"
"It's fine. Bye," At that, Martha hung up and walked off. Upon arriving back to chambers she marked the brief and set it up to be sent back to the solicitor. She then got to work on her latest, which Billy had given her the previous day.
'It looks like another scorned woman case…' Martha thought as she flipped through it. 'Though in this case, it appears like she was the victim. Her husband has three pages of form…It ranges from petty theft to domestic abuse charges…Plus there's the matter of their two daughters.' She ran a hand through her hair as she looked more into it and carefully took notes, loosing track of time for awhile until Clive came in.
"Do you ever go home?" He asked.
"Yes. It's not that late it's only…Five fifteen…" She said, trailing off when she looked at the clock. She then stood and quickly gathered her things "I have to go."
"Why? You have a date or something?"
"Yes, with Niamh and Felicia," Martha lied when she finally left. 'I wanted to go home and change…But I guess this will have to do. At least I look professional. Maybe that'll help me gain points with the kids. I should touch up my makeup though…' She thought, quickly ducking into the bathroom as soon as she thought of it. She ended up reapplying her lipstick and gloss, touching up her mascara and adding a bit of coral-coloured blush before taking a brush to her hair and then heading off. She arrived at John's flat with time to spare and was grateful to be early, as it gave her a bit of time to prepare for the meeting.
"You're early, as usual," John said when he opened the door, wearing a casual outfit that consisted of jeans and a dark-green t-shirt.
"I'm sorry I don't look better. I got caught up with my work at chambers and left from there."
"It's fine. You look nice," He said, ending with a light kiss on her cheek. "Can I take your coat?"
Martha nodded, removed and handed over the jacket she was wearing over her tailored, navy-blue, skirt suit, which she had matched with a simple, white blouse and her usual, black stockings. She then headed into the kitchen and nodded at the setup. "It's already set up," She said.
"I had to make sure I had everything, so I started as soon as I came home. Would you like something to drink? I bought wine for us," He said.
"Sure," She replied with a smile.
John smiled back and quickly got out two wine glasses before pulling the bottle from a cabinet above him.
"Thank you," Martha said as he handed her a glass.
"So…how was your day?" He asked.
"Good. I ended up winning the drug trial and I have a murder that starts on Monday. You?"
"I'm not doing anything special."
"Come on, there must be something going on."
John thought for a minute and said, "Nope. Nothing. Unless you count the dances I get to chaperone next month."
"I don't. What about the kids? Are they doing anything interesting?"
"You can ask them that when they get here."
"Alright," Martha nodded and then downed the rest of her wine. "What's this?" She asked, reaching for a binder lying on the counter.
"Just some tests that need grading," John replied as she flipped through them.
"Well, he failed," Martha said as she turned a page. "And so did she. Did nobody study?"
He pulled it away from her. "They did study. Most of the students in my fourth period got decent grades, those two are just notorious for not studying and gliding along. Besides, it's not your business."
"You act like I'm a child. I don't even know these kids," She pointed out as she poured another glass of wine.
"I'm not arguing this."
"Fine," She sighed, running her finger along the edge of the wine glass.
"I will tell you, though, that both of those kids need to step up. They have a big project due at the end of the month."
"What kind of project?"
"A PowerPoint report. I told them to take a significant event in history and present a report. They've had it since the middle of last month."
"And with that much time you expect top quality work."
"Exactly. Though I know these two will wait until the last minute…or pay someone to do it. That's been popular lately."
Martha simply nodded as a knock came at the door.
"That's them. Hide in the hallway."
"What?"
"I want to formally introduce you. If they see you right away it can get awkward. I want to talk to them about it first."
"Alright," Martha said as she got up, knowing better than to argue. She stood in the middle of the hall and leaned against a wall, hearing footsteps and voices as John let the kids in.
"Where's your mum?" He asked.
"Going on a date," Peter replied as Sophia threw her arms around her father.
"I know you're here, Sophia," John said, setting a gentle hand on her head before kneeling down to their level. "Settle down for a minute," He ordered after they had removed their coats and shoes. "There's someone I want you to meet."
Both kids stopped bouncing around immediately and looked at him.
"She's very important to me, and I expect you to be respectful," He said, a hint of warning in his voice. "Come on," He called to Martha.
Taking it as her cue, Martha stepped into the lounge, smiling at the kids as she approached them. Peter, she saw, was of average height and had inherited his father's brown hair, his was just messier and longer than John's, it was matched with brown eyes, which she assumed he got from his mother. He still wore his school uniform, which consisted of black trousers, a white dress shirt, and a blue sweater with the school's emblem on the breast. Sophia, on the other hand, was a bit small for her age and, had a slight, olive tint to her skin and black hair pulled into pigtails. She had John's green eyes and was wearing a simple, casual outfit that consisted of jeans and a long, pink shirt with short, ruffled sleeves and a silver necklace with a pink gem hanging off of it.
"Peter, Sophia…This is my girlfriend, Ms. Costello," John said, stepping back as Martha knelt down to the kids' level.
There was a small, awkward silence as everyone looked each other over. Then, deeming her alright, Peter held out his hand and said, "Nice to meet you Ms. Costello. I'm Peter."
"Hello, Peter," Martha replied, shaking his hand as she spoke. "I can see that you're a nice, well-mannered gentleman."
"What do you do?" He asked, looking at her suit.
"I'm a barrister."
He simply nodded and Martha turned to Sophia, who tilted her head.
"Your necklace says 'Martha,'" She said.
Martha fiddled with the jewellery for a minute, having forgotten that she had chosen to wear her name necklace that day.
"Martha Costello…" Sophia said in a way that sounded as if she was testing the name. "You don't look like a barrister."
"Well, I am."
"Where's your wig?"
"We only wear those in court, Sweetheart."
"Why?"
"Well…Because we would all look quite silly if we wore them all the time," Martha said, unsure of the rule herself and how to explain it to a six-year-old.
"You talk funny."
"Sophia," John warned. "That's rude."
"Sorry," Sophia said to Martha.
"It's alright. I'll let it go this time. I'm originally from Bolton, which is why I talk the way I do. My accent used to be stronger, but it's kind of…dwindled down since I moved to London years ago."
"Where's Bolton?"
"Up north in the Greater Manchester area."
Sophia simply nodded and then looked up at her father as Martha stood back up.
John put an arm around her waist and turned towards the kids, "Why don't you two go get settled and meet us in the kitchen?"
"Alright," Peter shrugged.
"Okay!" Sophia said with a smile as she ran off.
"So?" Martha asked.
"So, what?" John replied.
"Do you think they like me?"
"Well, they don't hate you."
She frowned.
"I'm kidding. Give them some time to get to know you before asking me that. I do know that they don't dislike you. It would have been far more awkward if they did, and Sophia wouldn't have asked so many questions. She didn't even speak to the last woman I introduced them to."
"And when was this?"
"Three or four months ago. We were only together for a few months before we decided it wasn't going to work out. She was a bit too wild for me, I found out."
"Wild?" Martha asked with a raised eyebrow.
"She liked to go out and party. She had been cordial and professional with me for awhile before introducing me to her preferred lifestyle. Now, she wasn't at all like Emily, mind you. She just liked the club scene and I didn't. We clashed and it ended up falling through. I didn't mind, though. It was nice to have some quiet time again."
Martha let out a small laugh as they headed into the kitchen. "You would have hated me when I was younger than. Before I started at the Barr and settled down I was a bit of a wild child. I loved going out in university and my early years as a pupil. I spent quite a bit of those days in and out of nightclubs in Manchester."
"Are you serious?"
Martha nodded.
"I can't see you doing that."
"Being honest, I can't see myself doing it again either. But that was a little over ten years ago. You don't have to worry about that now…Unless Niamh and Felicia get their hands on me again," She said, ending just as the kids came running back out.
"What's for dinner?" Peter asked.
"Spaghetti," John replied.
"I don't see any," His son retorted.
"We're going to make it."
Peter and Sophia looked at each other and gave John a confused look.
"I thought it would be a good idea if we all made dinner together," Martha explained. "The pasta and sauce are easy, but we need some help with the details."
"I get to cook?" Sophia asked, the excitement clear in her eyes.
"You get to cook," John said to her. "Both of you get to cook, so wash your hands."
The kids did as they were told and headed to the sink while Martha finally took off her blazer and pushed up the sleeves on her white blouse, which was still partially covered by a black waistcoat. "You don't happen to have an apron lying around, do you?" She asked, knowing spaghetti sauce would ruin her clothes.
"I do, actually. Hold on," He began rummaging through drawers.
"Daddy! Help!" Sophia said, frowning as she struggled to properly reach the sink.
"I'll get the stool."
"You don't have to," Martha said. "I got it." At that she headed over and simply lifted Sophia up to the proper level.
"Thank you, Ms. Costello," She said once Martha set her down and handed her a towel.
"You're welcome."
"Found it," John said, presenting Martha with a simple, blue apron. "And yes, I do have to find the stool if she's going to help us cook." At that, he headed off, soon coming back with a small, pink and purple stepstool.
"You're small," Peter teased his sister.
"I am not!" Sophia retorted.
"You still need a step stool."
"Be quiet!"
"Peter, that's enough," John scolded.
"But she IS small," Peter argued.
"That doesn't mean you have to pick on her," John said as he moved some stuff over to the main counter. "You and I are going to make the meatballs."
"What do I get to do?" Sophia asked.
"You will help with the sauce and bread," He explained as Martha gathered and brought the vegetables over, along with a cutting board.
"We're throwing a few extra vegetables in," Martha explained to her. "Tomatoes, red and green peppers, onions and just a touch of garlic."
"I don't see any tomatoes," Sophia said.
"We're using crushed tomatoes. They come in a can."
Sophia didn't reply and instead picked up one of the two knives Martha had sat down.
"Sophia, no," John said. "Let Martha help you."
"But…"
"Sophia," He warned.
She frowned and set the knife down.
"It's a good thing he stopped you. That's the wrong kind of knife. You need a French knife for this," Martha said, picking up the one to her right and a green pepper with the other hand. "To keep the pepper steady you just have to rest your hand on it a bit. Then you hold it with your fingers curled so you don't cut them and if you're doing it right, you just cut in one swift motion," She explained as she demonstrated her technique. "Would you like to try?"
"Can I?" Sophia looked at John.
"Be careful," He said.
Martha moved behind her and grabbed each of her hands. "Pick up the vegetable before the knife," She ordered.
Sophia did as she was told and it took a few tries before she got it steady.
"Remember what I did with my fingers? Can you do that?"
Sophia did so and Martha smiled.
"Now be very careful when you pick up the knife. Pick it up only by the handle, never the blade," She said, smiling when Sophia carefully obeyed her.
"Now set it like this," Martha moved Sophia's hand with hers. "And carefully move it down and just a tiny bit across the board."
Sophia did as she was told with Martha's help and smiled when she succeeded. "I did it!" She said once she set the knife down.
"It's bit crooked, but good for a first try," Martha said. "Now can you peel this for me?" She asked, handing over an onion.
Sophia nodded and took it as Martha shook her head at John and Peter.
"You're making them too small," She said, quickly moving John aside. "Let me show you how you're supposed to make meatballs." She then picked up two of the ones John and Peter had made and combined them.
"Hey!" Peter said. He had been proud of what he made and didn't find it fair that she could just step in and ruin it.
"Just watch," Martha said as she carefully shaped the material in her hand and then set it down on the wax paper in front of her. "That is a decent sized meatball."
"No fair! Your hands are bigger than mine!"
"It doesn't matter. It's just like making a snowball. But unlike snowballs, meatballs actually stick together," She said as she stepped away to wash her hands before chopping the rest of the vegetables with a little bit of Sophia's help.
"Now what?" She asked when Martha had opened the two cans of tomatoes they were using for the sauce.
"We do this," Martha said as she poured them into a food processor. "Now, I'm going to hold the top down and I want you to press the second button, right there."
"This one?"
"Yes. But only when I say so."
Sophia nodded and waited while Martha double checked the small appliance and then locked the top on.
"Now," She ordered.
Sophia nodded and pressed the button, letting go when she was ordered to stop.
"Thank you, Sophia. You're a good helper," Martha praised as she took the bowl from the processor and poured the tomatoes into the mixture that was to be the spaghetti sauce. She then let it heat up and helped guide the kids through cleaning their mess while John finished broiling the last of the meatballs. Once it was done he added them to the sauce, started the pasta and joined everyone else in the cleaning. However, it wasn't completely finished until Martha and Sophia finished the garlic bread sticks and put them in the oven.
"Now we wait for the timer to go off and tell us everything is ready," Martha explained to Sophia, who was curious as to what came next. "Until then, you can help set the table."
"Okay!"
Martha smiled and handed her some silverware on top of paper serviettes.
Sophia ran off to the dining table and carefully began to lay the silverware out while Peter got out plates and then helped John drain the pasta. As soon as they did that and washed the dish, Martha's timer went off and she carefully removed the pan from the oven and set it on the counter.
Knowing their routine, Peter and Sophia headed to the table while John portioned out and served the plates while Martha got the drinks and, together, they set the table. Once they were both seated John gave a signal for the kids to start eating.
Sophia tried, but ending up getting frustrated when she couldn't twirl the noodles correctly.
"Sophia, do you want me to cut it up for you?" John asked.
"No. I'm not a baby, I can do it."
"Try using a spoon," Martha suggested.
Sophia stopped and gave her a strange look.
"Let me show you," Martha said as she got up and retrieved a spoon from the silverware drawer. "You take a section of the pasta and use the spoon to keep it steady so it won't move around so much," She explained, using her own dish to demonstrate. "Then you take the fork like this…You see how I'm holding it?"
Sophia nodded, studying the proper way she kept it between her thumb and forefinger.
"Then you take the fork, and keeping the ends against the spoon, you just twirl. The spoon keeps it steady so you can twirl it. Then you pick the fork up and use the spoon to pile the pasta hanging down on top. Understand?"
"I think so."
"You try, then." Martha handed over the spoon and watched Sophia mimic her instructions while she ate the forkful of pasta she had created. It took her a few tries, but eventually Sophia got the hang of it and smiled.
Martha smiled back and turned to Peter, "I feel as if I've been ignoring you," She said.
"I'm fine with it," Peter replied.
"Well I'm not. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"
"What?"
"What are your hobbies? I know you play the piano, but…"
"I like video games," Peter interrupted. "But Dad won't buy me an Xbox."
"There is nothing wrong with your Wii," John said.
"But I want to play Call of Duty. All the other boys in my class have it."
"Peter, we've had this conversation before. You're too young for those games."
"But Dad…They don't make anything good for Wii…Just baby games for Sophia."
"I am not a baby!" Sophia snapped.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Martha reminded her. "It's not ladylike."
Sophia sat back and closed her mouth, knowing that Martha was right.
"No, you're not," John reassured her.
"She is too," Peter muttered.
"Peter, be nice. And I will hear no more of this video game issue. You are not getting your way and that's final."
"Fine…"
"Anyway…why don't you tell me about your piano playing?" Martha said, trying to relieve the tension in the room.
"It's okay. But I'm really no good."
"Don't say that."
"It's true…Melanie is always going to be better."
"Melanie?" Martha raised an eyebrow and gave John a curious look.
"A girl in Peter's piano class. She's…Well…She's top of the class."
"Every week."
"She's also two years older than you Peter. She's had a bit more practice."
"It's still not fair. And Mrs. Ashton still won't let me play a solo. She always chooses George."
"Shut up," Martha said, making both Peter and John stop and look at her in shock.
'Who the hell says that to a child?!' John thought.
"You'll never get anywhere unless you stop whining and comparing yourself to other people. You're not them and never will be so stop trying to be. Besides, comparisons just bring you down," Martha said, breaking a breadstick in half once she stopped.
"Martha…what…?" John said, unsure of what to think.
"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. My mother used to tell me the same thing when I was younger and it did wonders for my confidence."
'Well, I guess I know where your bluntness comes from…' John thought as Sophia spoke up.
"I do ballet," She said.
"I know," Martha said. "Your father says you're really good."
Sophia smiled.
"What else do you like?"
"Princesses. I want to be one, but not a spoiled princess, a kind princess like Princess Kate."
"Is that really realistic?"
"Martha," John warned.
"What?"
"Hall, now," He ordered, waiting while she followed him into the small hallway of the flat. "You can't tell a little girl that being a princess is unrealistic."
"Why not? I've been saying it since I was her age."
"You were also raised differently. Sophia's six. If she wants to be a princess, let her."
"Why can't she want to be a career woman instead?"
"Martha, she's six. She'll get over it."
"Fine," Martha sighed, not wanting to start a pointless argument.
John took that for an answer and they headed back to the table.
Martha continued making small talk with the children throughout the meal, being careful of what she said now. After dinner, Martha and John were left with the mess while Peter and Sophia ran off to their own individual activities.
"They're good kids," Martha said as she helped load the dishwasher while John first rinsed the dishes by hand.
"When they want to be. Peter refuses to let up on the Xbox matter, though."
"He's a kid. They do that. I lost track of how many times I bugged my mother for things I thought I wanted because they were popular. She always gave me the same answer."
"What?"
"That we couldn't afford it, and I took that as an answer because I knew better than to push," She explained. "Is that all?" She asked of the dishes.
John looked around. "Yes."
Martha double-checked and then closed and started the dishwasher.
"Why don't I get the kids together? We can all watch a film."
"Alright," Martha agreed.
"Peter! Sophia!" John called. "Can you come here?"
There was some bumping around before both children finally came into the lounge.
"We're going to watch a film," John told them. "Together," He added.
"I want…" Sophia started.
"No!" Peter said. "No princess films."
"But I…"
"No! It's not fair that you always get to pick. I want to watch…"
"NO!" Sophia shot back.
"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"
"Both of you stop," John ordered. "We'll do what we usually do and flip a coin."
"Your coins cheat!" Peter retorted. "Sophia always wins."
"I do not!"
"Fine, we'll let Martha do it then."
Martha simply took the hint when John handed her a coin and asked, "Heads or tails?"
"Tails!" Sophia said.
As soon as she spoke, Martha flipped the coin and turned it over on her arm. "Tails. You pick."
"Told you…" Peter muttered.
Sophia ignored him, headed over to the entertainment centre and pulled the drawer with the kids' movies in it open. "Mermaid," She said, handing it to Martha.
"Alright," Martha shrugged and moved to set up the film while Peter sunk down into the armchair with an aggravated expression and John settled on the sofa.
Sophia watched Martha and then settled on the floor once she hit 'play.'
As soon as she sat, Martha climbed up on the sofa with John and lay against him. Once she was settled, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her hair.
Sophia glanced over at them a few minutes later and frowned. 'She's in my spot,' She concluded as she stood up and headed over. "Why does Ms. Costello get to cuddle with you?" She asked.
"Because she's my girlfriend," John replied.
"No. She's in my spot."
"Sophia, I know you like to sit with me, but right now it's Martha's turn. You can have yours later when I tuck you in."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Sophia nodded and went back to her spot on the floor as Martha smiled up at John, thinking that his interaction with his daughter was adorable. They spent the rest of the film in silence, except for a few instances where Sophia tried to sing but was shot down by Peter. John had to get up and separate them the first time, but they stopped with verbal warnings after that.
After the film was over, Martha glanced at the clock and decided that it was getting late and she should leave.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" John asked as Martha pulled on her blazer.
"I'm sure. I have a trial on Monday I've got to prepare for."
"Alright," He said, holding out her coat for her.
"Thank you," Martha said. "It was nice to meet you, Peter and Sophia."
"Bye Ms. Costello," Sophia said, ending with a quick hug.
Martha smiled, set a hand on her head and looked towards Peter, who had nothing to say.
"I'll see you soon," She said to John.
"I hope so," He said, ending with a light kiss.
"Eww…" Peter and Sophia said together.
"Oh, hush," John said with a laugh as Martha headed out with a small laugh of her own.
'They're good kids…' She thought as she headed downstairs. 'And it went well…Better than I thought it would, actually. I think we're going to get along just fine…'