MODS & ROCKERS - CHAPTER 20

Bella

Mum is still up when Riley drops me home so we chat for a while about what happened at The Roxy. I tell her I've finished with Jake because I suspected he was two-timing me with someone else, but he'd given me the perfect excuse to have a clean break and not feel guilty. I didn't say anything about the car key incident as I guessed she'd be furious. Knowing her, she'd probably clip him around the ear if she ever saw him again, which would be unbelievably embarrassing for me.

She knew I'd been thinking of ending it anyway because of our talk last weekend so she knows I'm not upset at all and I assured her I'd carry on looking for my prince. I wasn't ready to tell her that I was pretty certain I'd already found my prince and he was working in a certain law firm in Fleet Street, but he was so out of my league I knew he would never invite me to jump onto his gilded lily pad; well at least not permanently.

Dad comes in from the pub then and I tell him about Jake as well. He admitted he liked Jake but he was pleased I wasn't seeing him anymore because he didn't like me being on his scooter, especially at night. I wonder then what would happen if I started dating Edward, as there's no way he could ever visit the house on his motorbike dressed in his leathers. Dad would take one look at him then lock me in my bedroom forever, like Rapunzel in her turret. I'd have to let my hair grow even longer and then Edward could rescue me and whisk me away on his white horse to his castle where we would be married and live happily ever after. Hmmm, maybe he should turn up in his leathers after all?

I'm in the bathroom cleaning my make-up off when there's a loud bang on the front door. My initial reaction is it could be a remorseful Jacob begging for forgiveness but it's probably just Mike forgetting his key again so I start to brush my teeth. It's already gone midnight by now so dad answers the door and calls up to me that it's Alice. I run downstairs in my tatty old dressing gown wondering what on earth she wants at this time of night and I'm embarrassed to see Jaz standing in the hall as well. When Alice looks up at me I know instantly something's wrong as her eyes are red and swollen and her normally pale face is even paler than usual.

"What's happened?" I ask and I can already feel my knees starting to buckle as it's obvious it's going to be something awful.

Jaz replies for her as Alice immediately starts sobbing into his chest.

"Jake's had an accident on his scooter, Bella. It looks like he was hit from behind as the back wheel and half the scooter was wedged under a car. He's been taken to hospital with a head injury and it looks really bad."

"Oh my God," I shriek as Alice comes over and flings her arms around me. "It's all my fault because he left early," I sob.

"It's not your fault," she says through her own tears. "No-one's going to think that."

"Yes they are," I wail. "He probably wasn't concentrating on the road because of what I said to him. What's his mother going to say to me on Monday? I shouldn't have been so horrible."

"You weren't horrible, Bella," Alice chokes as she gets hold of my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. "Don't forget he was the one who lied to you about last weekend, and he was the one two-timing with Jessica."

I knew she was right, but I still felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"I know that, but I shouldn't…" and then I realise my dad's standing there, so I don't mention I accused him of having a tiny dick in front of his mates and Jessica.

I can't stop crying because I'm imagining him lying in hospital somewhere, possibly at death's door. His poor parents are probably weeping by the bedside of their only child by now or in a waiting room being given bad news. I could feel myself shaking, probably due to shock, but also from the realisation that my earlier premonition that something awful was going to happen tonight had come true.

Mum disappeared into the kitchen then and I could hear her putting the kettle on, because a cup of tea would of course make everything right again, so we all shuffle into our tiny living room and I huddle with Alice on the sofa while dad starts ranting from his chair.

"Bloody scooters," he huffs. "Death traps, that's what they are. I don't want you going on one of those things ever again, Bella. Do you hear me?"

I nod my head and start sobbing again. At this point Mike comes through the front door after his night out and asks what the hell's going on. Jaz introduces himself as Alice's boyfriend then pushes him into the kitchen and tells him what's happened.

After we've all had a cup of tea and I've calmed down, Alice and Jaz leave and I go up to my bedroom and start crying again. I feel totally cut off from being able to find out what's happened and whether Jake is alright. If we'd had a telephone I could have called the hospital, but instead I now have to wait until morning until I go to Alice's to get some news.

I eventually climb into bed and try to switch off as I'm emotionally exhausted, but it's impossible to get the image of Jake turning away from me in The Roxy after I'd verbally torn him to shreds. The look on his face was one of utter dejection, and I couldn't bear the thought of him being unhappy when he had the accident, especially if he died, which makes me start sobbing again, but I eventually fall asleep still crying into my pillow.

Saturday 11th April 1964

Edward

When I wake on Saturday morning my first thought is to try and find out what's happened to Jake, not the fact that there's a knife-wielding maniac called James after me, which means my priorities are a bit skewed. However, I don't want Jasper to be suspicious as to why I'm plugging him for information.

I presume he's seeing Alice sometime today, so annoyingly I may have to wait until tomorrow before I find out whether Jake's dead or alive. I feel slightly guilty thinking of Jake in the past tense, but whether he's still in the land of the living or not, he's now Bella's ex-boyfriend, which pleases me no end. Hopefully I'll talk to Bella again soon and I'll pluck up the courage to ask her out on a date, and then I'll be able to announce to Jasper, "guess what!"

Jasper follows me downstairs and I insist on making him breakfast this morning as he's been cooking for me all week. Scrambled eggs are my speciality so I knock up a plateful for him with toast and coffee.

"Are you going to call Alice," I ask.

"Yeah," he responds nonchalantly. "She may have heard what's happened to Jake. I'll go over there this afternoon if she's not consoling Bella. I'm not interfering if the girls want to be on their own."

"Good idea," I say, and I'm relieved I may find out sooner rather than later whether he's survived.

I offer to wash up even though I've cooked so that Jasper can go upstairs and use the phone to call Alice because the suspense is killing me. When I hear him saying "Hello," I stop what I'm doing and creep to the bottom of the stairs so I can eavesdrop on the conversation. Unfortunately all I can hear is Jasper saying, "Yes, No, Really? Shit, Jesus! Okay, See you later, Love you (!), Bye," and then I dash back to the kitchen when I hear him put the phone down.

I'm desperate to know what's happened but Jasper annoyingly has a shower first then strolls downstairs in his dressing gown. I pour him some more coffee from the jug and nonchalantly ask him what the latest is.

"He's alive, unconscious, with a fractured skull, a dislocated but not broken collar bone and a broken wrist. The driver of the car has been arrested for drunk-driving. Apparently he was legless when the police turned up and couldn't walk in a straight line so he was booked on the spot. Alice's dad phoned Jake's parents this morning and they're shocked but okay; just grateful he's alive and not in any danger."

"That's a relief," I say. "Are you going over to Alice's later?"

"Yeah, I'll go in the afternoon. Bella's on her way over and Alice is taking her to the West End to buy a new coat or something like that. It'll help her take her mind off what's happened. Are you going to see your dad?"

"Probably," I reply. "I saw him yesterday but I could pop in for a while. I'll make my mind up later on."

Jasper goes back upstairs leaving me to mull over what he said. Jake had survived, which is good news for Bella as I wouldn't want her to have a guilty conscience if he'd died, however she may feel awful about what happened and go back to him, which would be a disaster for me.

I know I should really own up to Jasper that I know Bella, but for some reason I want to keep her to myself at the moment. Up until last night she had a boyfriend, so it would have been pointless me talking to him about her. Also, I told him there was no-one in my life at the moment, so I would feel silly back-tracking and telling him about our lunchtime liaisons. I know there'll be a right time to tell him and I'll just plead ignorance that the Bella he was talking about was a girl called Isabella who worked at the Express. I'll definitely drop Jasper's name into my next conversation with her and maybe that will be the trigger for me to say something.

I decide to see dad in hospital so call mum at The Savoy to tell her I'll go in at four o'clock when visiting time starts. If he's awake and able to talk without getting stressed, I may ask his advice about what to do about Giles Fotherington's threat to alter the laws which could adversely affect the dock workers' rights. Time is running short as the parliamentary session ends in June, and it's already the middle of April. With all the other work I have to do I don't really need this added complication.

Bella

When I get up, I steal myself to look in the mirror as I know the face staring back at me is going to be a sight, and I'm not wrong in my assumptions. My reflection shows a pale faced, swollen-eyed, exhausted excuse for a girl, but it's all I deserve. Whatever Alice said to placate me last night, I still feel guilty about what happened to Jake, and I still don't know whether he's dead or alive. I've already decided to speak to dad today about getting a telephone installed and I'm going to offer to contribute towards the cost, because not being able to communicate with the outside world without having to go out to a telephone box, that nine times out of ten somebody has either thrown up or pissed in, is completely ridiculous in this day and age.

I clean myself up the best I can so I don't frighten the family then go downstairs to make myself breakfast. I soon realise that the house is unusually deserted for a Saturday morning which means Mum has probably gone out to the shops early and maybe she's dragged dad with her for the first time in years. I presume Mike is already at the park playing football, but wherever they all are I'm grateful for the peace and quiet. Maybe they're giving me a wide-berth because of what's happened? If that's so I appreciate being left alone to wallow in my guilt.

I set off for Alice's at about nine-thirty and get to her house half an hour later. As soon as I knock on the door her dad answers it and tells me that Jake has a fractured skull and other broken bones but his life isn't in any danger. I run up the stairs to Alice's room feeling mightily relieved but still traumatised.

When I see the state of Alice, it's obvious she hasn't had much sleep either as she's not her usual immaculate self. We both have another little cry then she insists we 'tart ourselves up' and hit the West End for some retail therapy. I know there's no point in arguing as Alice is on a mission to make me smile again, so we 'tart ourselves up' as she suggested and head out. Alice's dad offers to drive us all the way to the Marble Arch end of Oxford Street rather than get the bus, which is really nice of him, so he drops us off near Selfridges and then the fun begins; well fun for Alice I should say.

I'm dragged from shop to shop but all the summer-weight coats are what I can only describe as 'Mumsy'. In other words I can visualise women of my mother's age wearing them and I want something a bit different to what's on offer. Alice suggests getting the tube to the Kings Road in Chelsea, but the boutiques there are definitely too up-market and expensive for me, even with all this money in my purse. After starting from the Selfridges end of Oxford Street and criss-crossing the road until we get to the other end by Oxford Circus, we finally end up in Carnaby Street which is starting to get a reputation for being the 'in' place to shop, but the prices are still sky-high and I come away empty handed and fed-up.

I'm exhausted by now and suffering doubly because of lack of sleep. I've also worn totally the wrong shoes for shopping, consequently my feet are killing me and I'm actually hobbling. Alice pushes me into a coffee shop and orders two coffees and four raspberry donuts without even asking me what I want. I'm too tired to argue and kick my shoes off under the table which feels blissful for the first few seconds and then my feet start to throb even more.

"I give up," I say miserably as I'm stuffing my face with sticky sugary heaven which is just what I need.

"What about Petticoat Lane tomorrow morning?" Alice suggests with her mouth full.

"I can't face it," I reply as I attack the second donut. "I'm not a big fan of markets. You end up walking miles, looking through rails of trash in the hope of finding a gem that just might be lurking there, but nine times out of ten isn't."

"Okay," Alice replies sympathetically. "If we can't get anything today, we can go to Kensington next weekend and have a look there."

I nod my head in agreement while sipping my coffee, which is definitely on a par with the one I had with Edward and it revives me somewhat. After eating both donuts, the sugar gradually enters my blood stream and gives me a boost so I feel able to look in a few more stores. Alice glances at her watch and reminds me she has to be home by four as Jaz is coming over.

"You really like him, don't you?" I say.

Alice nods her head and looks misty-eyed when she replies.

"I think I love him, Bella. I can't imagine life without him now, and that's come as a bit of a shock as I never thought this would happen to me until I was about twenty-five. I think he loves me too."

"Have you told him?" I say trying to sound calm as this is mind-blowing stuff.

"Yes, I told him last night. He says he loves me too, and he said it again on the phone this morning. I want to believe him, but he's just too good to be true."

"Do you trust him?"

"Absolutely," she says wistfully while gazing up at the ceiling as though Jasper is hanging off the lampshade listening to her every word. "Even though I don't know much about him to be honest. He doesn't speak about his family or what he does for a living, apart from I know he works with his dad and Eric and Paul and their dad. I know his dad's a builder, but that's all. He told me he'd lived abroad for a while but I don't know why, where, or for how long. All I know is that he's kind, he makes me laugh, he's generous, he's considerate and he's a great kisser, and he hasn't put any pressure on me for anything more than kissing and cuddling."

"He's one in a million," I say enviously. "Definitely a keeper."

Alice nods her head and mumbles, "I'm very lucky." Then she perks up. "Right, Miss Swan, I want to know who your secret guy is."

"What secret guy?" I reply in astonishment.

"Don't try and deny it. When we were discussing dumping Jake, you said you liked someone better, so who is it? Is it someone I know, or do you have a secret lover who creeps into your room in the middle of the night and makes mad, passionate love to you, then disappears before the sun appears?"

I know I've gone bright red so there's absolutely no point hiding it from Alice. She really should work for MI6 she's so good at wheedling information out of people.

"It's a guy who works in a building opposite the Express. We got talking after a really horrible man tipped my drink all over me in Lyons. He rescued me from being verbally abused and since then I've met him once at lunchtime and we went for a walk.

"Soooooooo….. details please."

"He's a lawyer, he's probably in his mid-twenties, he's very good looking and polite, and…he's totally out of my league."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's a professional and he's public school and university educated. I'm sure he wouldn't consider a girl like me as a long-term proposition and he's already said he's not asking for a date; he just likes having company at lunchtime."

"Do you like him?"

"Yes, I really like him, but I'm trying not to think of him romantically as I know I'll be disappointed in the long run. In fact I wish I'd never met him now as he's become the bar all other guys are never going top. Basically I'm stuffed."

Alice laughs at that comment and shakes her head.

"Bella, the world is changing. The class-system is being whittled away slowly and I'm sure if he's a decent guy, and he likes you, where you were born or who your parents are shouldn't matter to him. Anyway, I've got a feeling Jaz went to a private school. Once he said something like, "when my parents left me at school," which must mean he was a boarder. His voice is very cultured too, which I initially put down to not being 'East End', but there's more to it than that. He comes out with stuff I know nothing about, like books he's read and places he's been to. He's a walking encyclopaedia. I know I'll find out about his background eventually but I'm not pushing it. He'll tell me in his own time."

I nod my head in agreement but I'm determined not to get my hopes up where Edward is concerned, despite what Alice says. I know the world is changing, but Edward's world and mine are so far apart it would be the middle of the next century before it wouldn't matter in his world.

I finish up my coffee and lick all the remaining grains of sugar from around my mouth. "Come on then, let's do two more shops and then that's it," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Right," Alice agrees and we scuttle across the road to the Peter Robinson store where I find exactly what I was looking for, plus a blouse and skirt which will be ideal for work. In fact there was a whole section on one floor devoted to girls of my age and the choice was amazing. I could have bought loads of stuff if I'd had more money. Alice bought two dresses and a jacket and I had to stop her buying a really short skirt because I know her mum and dad would never let her go out in it. Her parents are cool, but not that cool.

When we go to pay, we congratulate the shop assistants on the choice available, telling them we'd been everywhere else in Oxford Street with no luck. The girls behind the tills are in their early twenties and dressed really fashionably rather than in the usual boring nylon uniforms shop staff normally wear. They were really forthcoming with information about the clothes and told us that the Peter Robinson store in Sheffield was planning to devote the whole of one of their floors to our age group on a trial basis. It was scheduled to open in October and the section would be called Top Shop. If it proved financially successful, the girls had heard that the whole of the Oxford Street store's basement would be turned into a Top Shop next year and other stores would follow suit not long after.

With this exciting information in mind, I knew I had a basic idea for my column in the Advertiser next week. After what was an almost fruitless search for reasonably priced, modern clothes designed for girls of my age, only one major store had the foresight to cater for the economic group with the most disposable spending money, in other words young people with no commitments, like kids and mortgages. In this day and age this was bonkers, so next week's article in the Advertiser would be a killer.

Alice and I get different buses home and I have a chance to mull over what Alice said to me in the coffee shop about her relationship with Jaz. It was obvious they were head over heels for each other, and it was also obvious that Alice was already thinking about the 'forever' word. I only hoped Jaz didn't come from an upper class family like Edward, and Alice wasn't just a bit of temporary fun and she would be discarded when the time came for Jaz, or whatever his real name was, to find a suitable wife. He was keeping his background a mystery for a reason, and I only hope his motive was an honest one or Alice would end up heartbroken, which is what I'm suspecting will happen to me.

I agree with what Edward said, that the world is changing rapidly, but I still cannot believe someone like Edward would look at me as anything more than a friend, even though when he actually looks at me, I can see something in his eyes which if he was a normal bloke, (that is not someone like Edward), then I would think he fancied me.

Then I think about Jaz again. Maybe he's purposely trying to hide who he is, unlike Edward who has already admitted he's Eton educated so he's obviously from a wealthy family. Maybe Jaz has got really rich parents and he's decided to keep his circumstances a secret so he knows a girl will love him for who he is and not what he's worth. That seems like a plausible explanation to me, but it's interesting Alice hasn't wheedled this information from him yet, unless she's guessed this too and is keeping it to herself.

I get off at my stop and slowly hobble towards my house, wishing that girls weren't expected to wear proper shoes while they were out shopping. I dream of the day when it would be acceptable for girls to wear plimsolls or tennis shoes, or something similar, but until that glorious day, the female of the species had to carry on suffering with sore heels and toes just to be 'fashionable.'

The world's gone mad!

Edward

Dad is a lot brighter this afternoon and two of the machines he was hooked up to yesterday have been removed, but he's still attached to a heart monitor which beeps away like an annoyingly loud bird plus another machine which I guess has something to do with his blood pressure. He's on a catheter for convenience and a drip for sustenance, but the nurse told me he'd managed to eat some lunch and if he progresses on the same trajectory he could be moved out of Intensive Care and onto the cardiac ward as early as tomorrow. After this piece of good news I feel as though I can chance getting some advice from him about Giles Fotherington and his plans.

After answering the usual "how do you feel" questions then hearing about how the nurses must have been trained by the Gestapo, dad unexpectedly launches into a lecture about my motorbikes. He's obviously been lying in bed considering his and my future, and having a brush with death has made him mull over the succession. My motorbike obsession is obviously a source of stress for him and he needs to say his piece.

"I know you hate everything about the aristocracy, Edward, but you're not to put your life at risk until you get your own son and heir. If anything happens to you, that insufferable fascist cousin of yours will get his hands on the title, and consequently our family name will be held in contempt for generations, like the Moseley's, and I'm not having that. When there's a little Edward bouncing on your knee, then you can do what you want with your life. Until that time, no taking risks on that bloody motorbike of yours, do you hear me?"

"Yes dad," I reply. "I hear what you say and I've already curtailed my enthusiasm for speed you'll be pleased to know. I've done a lot of growing up in the last week so don't worry yourself about that."

"Good, that makes me feel a lot better. Now, we've got to talk about our incompetent Prime Minister, Alec Douglas-Home, and the band of charlatans running the country at the moment. Plans are definitely being made to sneak through changes to the employment laws before the end of parliament. The Tories have the majority in the Commons and the Lords, so the changes will go through on the nod if no-one gets wind of it beforehand. Somehow we've got to get the news out there so it gets adverse publicity before it happens, which will put the Tories in a bad light for the election if they have to admit it's true. If they deny it of course, this will scupper the bill before it reaches the floor of the House. But it can't come through me as I'm supposed to be neutral as far as party-politics is concerned."

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask. "I don't have any contacts in Parliament. If I was to start spreading gossip, it would come back to you through me."

"I don't know, son. Surely you must know someone who can help?"

I initially shake my head but then I think about the friend of mine who's a member of the Fabian Society, who may know some Labour Members of Parliament. If I contact him, he may be able to formulate a plan to stop these laws being passed."

"Leave it with me, dad. I've got an idea I'll think through and a person I'll arrange to see. I'll keep you informed what I'm up to, but I'll make sure our names are kept out of it. Don't worry yourself at the moment; I'll do the worrying for you."

Dad sighs when I say this and I can see he's getting sleepy. His eyes close and his breathing is steady so I presume he's dropped off. After about ten minutes where he doesn't say anything, I get up and start thinking about leaving but his eyes open and he sighs again.

"Sit down again, Edward. There's something else I need to talk to you about."

I sit down as directed and wait for him to speak.

"Although I hate to admit it, your grandpa was right. You should always marry for love and for no other reason. Whoever you pick for a wife is fine by me, but hurry please. I want to be a grandpa too and if I'm not going to be on this planet for much longer, I want to see you married with a family. I don't care who her father is or where she comes from, I just want you to be happy, and that goes for Rosalie as well."

I debate in my head whether to tell him I already have someone in mind but decide against it. I just say, "Thanks dad, but I don't know how mum would take it if I brought home someone like Eliza Doolittle."

He chuckles to himself at the thought then pats my hand in a comforting way.

"She'll be fine, Edward. Just choose carefully and make sure the girl loves you and you love her. Your mother may be one of the most annoying women on the planet, but I love her dearly and have no regrets on my choice of partner."

"I will dad. Thanks for the advice."

And then he fell asleep. I sat with him for a while longer and contemplated what he said. It was a revelation for me to know he would accept a girl like Bella as a daughter-in-law. Whether he felt the same when he wasn't at death's door that was another matter.

Sunday 12th April 1964

Bella

I work almost all day on my article for the Advertiser while my ideas are fresh in my mind. Doing this also helps to distract me from my guilt-trip over what's happened to Jake. I vent my wrath at high street chains and the famous department stores who seem to have totally disregarded a whole section of the community, leaving young people with no option but to buy 'trendy' clothes in expensive boutiques which for most is unaffordable. I claim there's a huge market out there for stores to design cheap fashions for teenagers and young adults, and whoever jumps on the bandwagon first will make a fortune. I show my first draft to Mike who thinks it's a great idea and said he would warn the girl who picked the graphics to find some suitable pictures to go on the page.

During the afternoon I wander up to the phone box and call Alice, who tells me Jake has needed to have an operation to relieve the swelling on his brain. His father told her that Jake's scooter days were over as they weren't allowing him to get another one when he recovers. I thought this was a bit drastic at first, but then I imagined if it were my son who had been in an accident I would probably react just the same as them.

The rest of Sunday I spend sorting my wardrobe out and getting my clothes ready for my first day as a secretary. I feel nervous about being in a new working environment, even though I'm confident I can handle the job. What's worrying me most though is the attitude of the other secretaries and whether they're aware I'm a Secondary Modern girl from the typing pool, and if so, whether they'll hold it against me. Whatever, it's something I've got to deal with and I'm going to make darned sure my 'limited education' isn't going to hold me back any longer.

I go to bed early not thinking about work, but looking forward to future lunchtimes and meeting Edward again. Maybe one day I'll be able to tell my snooty Grammar School colleagues that my boyfriend is a lawyer. Now that would be a day to look forward to.

Edward

As dad is continuing to improve I set off on Sunday morning for Emmett's place with a clear conscience, but also with the promise to curtail my speed in the back of my mind. I'd given Rosie Carol's telephone number just in case anything happens, but the hospital are moving dad out of ICU today so the doctors must feel confident he isn't going to have a relapse.

I get to Emmett's just after eleven and he's in the garage as usual tinkering with Bonnie, but when I go in I notice he has a weird expression on his face when I say hello.

"What's up," I say and I'm wondering whether I've upset him or something.

"Just something Carol spotted in the Daily Fascist," Emmett responds with a sort of grin.

He stands up and wanders over to a pile of old newspapers and picks up a copy of the Daily Mail, then opens it to one of the inside pages and hands it to me. I quickly run my eyes across the headlines and spot what Emmett has obviously noticed, and immediately realise my secret life isn't a secret anymore.

MASTER OF THE ROLLS TAKEN ILL IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS

There were about twenty lines of story about dad having a heart attack and being whisked off to St Thomas' Hospital where his life was hanging in the balance. But what had obviously piqued Emmett's interest was a candid photograph of 'Lady Masen-Cullen, Edward Cullen and Rosalie Cullen,' leaving the hospital the following morning after dad's operation.

"Bugger!" I exclaim and look up from the paper and see Emmett looking amused.

"So what do I call you now, Eddie Masen? Is it Sir, or Lord, or what?"

I shrug my shoulders and I'm trying to formulate an excuse when Emmett continues.

"You should know me well enough by now to guess that I couldn't give a shit about who your parents are. I'm American, and we don't have an aristocracy in our country; we got rid of all that crap in 1776 when we chucked you lot out. So being a Prince, Duke, Earl, or whatever your ridiculous title is, doesn't hold any water with me. As far as I'm concerned you're just my mate Eddie, end of story."

"Thanks," I reply and walk over to him and give him a manly hug and a slap on the back. He deserves an explanation so I make myself comfortable on his battered old sofa while he carries on tinkering with Bonnie.

"Okay, full story," I start. "As well as being the Master of the Rolls, my father is Viscount Moray, which is an hereditary title that will pass to me when he dies. My full name and title as his son is The Honourable Edward Anthony Masen-Cullen but I've never used the title since I left school. Viscounts are Peers, which means I'll be entitled to sit in the House of Lords when dad dies. My parents sent me to Eton and I chose to go to Cambridge to study law. I'm still close to my parents, but my father has cut me off financially because I wouldn't work for one of the elite law firms, but have chosen to work with Legal Aid cases and the Trades Unions, mainly on employment law. I'm now a very poorly paid junior lawyer in the City of London where I'm just Mr Edward Cullen. Fortunately my grandpa left me some money which has enabled me to buy a small house in Kensington and be financially independent. Up until last week I lived alone, but my cousin Jasper has just moved in with me. End of story."

"Is that it?" Emmett asks.

"I think so….. What else do you want to know?"

Emmett thought about this for a while and for a moment I was worried our friendship was in the balance because I hadn't been entirely forthcoming about my life. I hadn't told him any lies, just skirted around the truth when he'd asked me questions about my family.

"I suppose I can understand why you wanted to keep your background a secret, even though I doubt whether any of the other guys at the Ace could give a shit to be honest. I suppose there's always a chance the newspapers could make a story out of you being a Rocker which could be seen as 'anti-establishment' and not really compatible with your chosen profession. What I really want to know is does your family know you're a Rocker?"

I laugh before answering because of all the things he could ask, this was the least intrusive of all.

"They know I ride motorbikes, but I doubt they're aware I go around with a pack of Rockers. My cousin Jasper knows, and I've just found out he's Mod."

"What about your sister. Does she know?"

"No, but I've talked to her about you. I told her that I had an American friend who rides bikes and is a bit of a pacifist. She's into 'Banning the Bomb' and all that stuff like you."

Emmett's eyebrows shoot up. "Really?"

"Yes, really. But don't ask for an introduction, as your dick and my sister are never going to get within a hundred yards of one another."

Emmett threw his rag at me and breaks into howls of laughter. "Bastard!" he chokes out as he's wiping his eyes. "When I saw her picture in the paper I was hoping for an introduction, as I sure as hell would like to be your brother-in-law one day, but I guess that's not on the cards now."

"Absolutely not," I reply and start laughing as well. Then I thought about another possible consequence from my photograph being in the paper which brought me back to the real world with a jolt.

"James called me 'posh boy' in the Ace on Friday, Emmett, and that newspaper was Wednesday's edition. Do you think he knows who I am?"

"He could do," Emmett muses, "but he doesn't look the type to buy the Daily Fascist or even read a newspaper. If he does, there's nothing you can do about it; the cat's out of the bag now. Just watch your back, like Sam said."

Carol comes into the garage then with a tray of tea and biscuits. She walks towards me then bobs a curtesy.

"Your tea is served, my Lord, Would you like to take it in the drawing room or the conservatory?" she asks and then grins at me.

"Jesus, you're not going to let me live this down, are you," I proclaim.

"Definitely not, Sir Edward," Emmett replies and bows low.

"Now you know why I kept my aristocratic mouth shut," I laugh, but secretly I'm relieved I'd been 'outed', as Emmett and Carol have been the best friends anyone could have, and to be honest I couldn't think of anyone better to have as a brother-in-law than Emmett.

I just wish I'd never seen his dick!

Oh dear! Well if Emmett and Rosie do meet up (you know they're going to, don't you), Edward will have a dilemma on his hands. Does he warn Rosie or does he just tell Emmett to back-off? It will be a fun situation I assure you.

Jake has survived his ordeal, but Bella is still feeling guilty even though she has no reason to be. She will be meeting Edward in the next chapter for another lunchtime walk, so that might focus her mind on whether she should concentrate on her growing relationship with Edward, or ease her conscience by being nice to Jake again. I can hear you all shouting "Nooooo!"

FYI

Top Shop was one of the first store-based lines that catered solely for young women; mass-producing cheap, modern clothes for girls from early teens to mid-twenties. Stores like Selfridges soon caught on, but didn't open their 'Miss Selfridge' range until 1966. Following the opening of Top Shop and Miss Selfridge, most of the other stores followed suit and smaller high-street shops like Lewis Separates became 'Chelsea Girl' and that chain eventually morphed into River Island. I worked in Chelsea Girl in 1969 to 1970 as a Saturday girl and had to wear Hot Pants as a uniform. I would be arrested for outraging public decency if I wore them now!

Carnaby Street is now a pretty tacky tourist attraction, but back in the 60's it was a cool place to shop. It's actually a very tiny street compared to Oxford Street, which is still considered to be the premiere shopping street in London. Back in the day, if you hung about in Carnaby Street long enough, you'd probably spot someone famous diving in and out of the shops. There's lots of photos on the internet of Carnaby Street in its heyday and some of the fashions in the 60's were hilarious - Austin Powers got it absolutely right.

Sir Oswald Moseley was a Baronet and an MP during the 30's and 40's. He came from an aristocratic family and before the 2nd World War he formed his own political party called the British Union of Fascists. Adolf Hitler actually attended his second wedding in Germany to one of the Mitford sisters. His followers were known as 'Blackshirts', which is what they wore as a uniform, and today this term is still used to describe someone who is ultra-right-wing. Moseley was interned during the war as he was a Nazi sympathiser, but eventually left England to live in France. During the 30's he led marches through areas of London with a high proportion of Jewish citizens which led to some pretty nasty fights, the most famous being the 'Battle of Cable Street'. You can understand why Carlisle doesn't want his title to be passed to someone like Quentin Cullen who would certain drag their name into disrepute.

The Daily Fascist is a nickname for the Daily Mail, which is a right-wing British newspaper that caters mainly for Tory women (apologies if any of you guys read it - my mum (now departed) and quite a few of my friends read it avidly BTW). Back then it was anti-Labour, anti-immigration, anti-Unions, anti-anything that wasn't around when Queen Victoria was on the throne. It has improved over the years, but the nickname has stuck - well it has where I live anyway (Tory-Surrey).

Thanks for all your reviews, and memories, and comments. I really do look forward to reading them.

Joan xx