Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Since The Real Teacher is incredibly busy at the moment, this chapter comes to you unbeta'ed. Please excuse any mistakes that slipped my notice.
Happy Labor Day to all Americans and happy Monday (if there's such a thing) to everyone else.
As always, pictures of all sights, people, clothes and vehicles mentioned in this chapter can be found on my blog. You can find the link on my profile page.
Chapter 18 – The Big Smoke
Where the prodigal son finally returned.
Chances.
In life, it was all about chances.
I smirked, both from the cold of the water splashing into my face and the weight of the pressure riding on the day ahead of me. This was definitely a make or break type of day.
I could make or break my career.
I could make or break my chance at making things right with my mum and dad.
I could make or break my chance – and I had a pretty solid feel that this would be my final chance – at showing Bella I was more than just the worthless pillock who kept on hurting her.
I looked up, my face still as pale as it always had been though there was no denying the bluish I-haven't-slept-all-that-well-lately marks under my eyes and the greenish I'm-so-bloody-nervous-I-could-throw-up tint to my skin.
Yep. In hindsight it may not have been the brightest of ideas to plan all of these huge, life-defining meetings on the same day.
It had seemed a good idea at the time – get all the hugely important meetings out of the way and then go back to the hotel where my girl would be waiting for me – but right now I was beginning to wonder whether or not I'd been out of my mind when I'd set it all up.
"You can do this, Cullen!" I growled at my reflection. "You know you can!"
My eyes narrowed, trying to fake resolve as I snatched the towel off the railing and started drying my face. "Now quit being a spineless little bed-wetter and grow a pair!"
With that I pushed away from the washbasin, throwing the towel on the counter as I walked into the cozy little hotel room that would be my – our – home for the next couple of days.
A small smile – the first of the day – broke through as I looked around, knowing the next time I'd enter this room Bella would be here.
Who would have thought that would ever happen?
Not me.
Especially not back in December when she wouldn't even talk to me.
When Bella called me on Boxing Day I thought it was the end. After she'd found out about my past in the way no girl wants to find out about her boyfriend's past – a past that probably involved just about everything her police chief daddy had always warned her about – there was no way she'd ever give me the time of day again.
I'd been mistaken.
Of course Bella had been pretty pissed off – and probably still was – about the way things had gone. She must have felt so humiliated that day; learning all of that stuff from a conceited little slapper like Chelsea Barnes.
Oh yeah, I remembered that girl.
Or at least the parts of our interaction when I'd not been completely spaced out on coke or drink. She was part of the Berlin crowd back in the day when I was still all drugged up and not giving a fuck about who I fucked, always hovering around the guys like some twisted little Boho groupie.
Collectors, we called them. To her, every guy she shagged was just another little notch on her bedpost as she tried to work her way through the entire group. And all of that just for the sake of being able to say she'd fucked him if one of us happened to become famous.
It had been the worst kind of girl to spring on Bella.
And still my girl had somehow managed to find it in her heart to forgive me.
As if I didn't love her enough already.
Yeah, I loved her.
I was completely and utterly besotted with her. I could finally admit it to myself and not completely spazz out about it.
Well, not too much.
The truth was, though, that as much as I loved her, the idea of what that could do to me still scared me to death. In the most masculine kind of way of course.
I'd been down that road before with Vicky and though I knew that Vicky and Bella were completely different women – in fact, it felt like blasphemy to even put their names together in a sentence – the power Bella held over my heart was no less than the one Vicky had wielded back in the day.
A power that could destroy me, even more so than Vicky had done, because with Bella…..everything was so much more intense, so much more full on.
But that wasn't all.
From the first time I'd started to notice girls my dad had instilled me with a strong notion that with being in love also came a big responsibility to act and plan to secure the happiness and wellbeing of the person you were in love with. Being in love meant being part of something bigger than yourself and with the way things were between us…
Let's just say that if my past actions were anything to go by, I really sucked at being in love.
I smirked, stepping into the most fancy pair of trousers I owned as I thougth about the way things had gone between us up to this point. I was lucky enough – a luck I still wasn't sure I deserved – to have her take me back this time but I knew I wasn't going to get a fourth shot of convincing her I was the right man for her.
The trouble was, though, I still wasn't completely convinced I was.
Right for her, that was.
I knew she was right for me – hell, I knew she was the only girl on the face of the earth I could ever fancy myself growing old with – but with every step of the way, every cock-up of mine she forgave and every time she made me smile or just opened my eyes to something I'd never noticed before, I knew that she was so much better than I was .
She was an angel and for some incomprehensible reason she'd decided to demean herself by consorting with the likes of me.
For now.
Because deep down I knew there was only so much crazy a girl like Bella could take before she ran off in search of some strong, stable New York investment banker or some other random dude who could give her all the stuff I could never provide.
"Stop thinking like that, you pussy!" I scowled, almost chocking myself as I pulled my tie too damn tight. "You're not going to ruin a bloody good thing – the only good thing in your life right now – by over thinking shit."
No. I yanked on my tie, trying to get it to fall down my chest in a straight line as I pulled on the not too shabby looking jacket I'd found in a thrift shop in a back alley somewhere close to my apartment.
I was going to make this work.
I was going to be the man she wanted me to be.
I was going to work my ass off to be worthy of her – in every damn way of the word.
Even if it killed me.
"I'm going to do this," I muttered, grabbing my messenger bag with my portfolio and my camera (just in case Mrs. Livingston wanted to see me in action) and rushing out of my room without another thought. It was a good thing too because thinking would only lead to over thinking and maybe even questioning why I was talking to myself like a complete nut case.
Walking out on the road I couldn't but be a little weirded out at being back in London again; the place I'd once intended to spend my whole life but fled away from over five years ago.
Nothing had changed.
At least, not as far as I could see.
It was strange how a portion of time as substantial as five years had done nothing to change the faces of the people milling about the streets or the stately (and slightly ridiculous) black cabs weaving through the ever congested streets. There may have been a few more people bonkers enough to brave all of that traffic on their bikes (rather them than me) but as far as changes went, that was pretty much it.
Looking up at the sky – overcast but not looking as if it was going to rain anytime soon – I decided to forgo re-familiarizing myself with the London tube and cross the park on foot – the sheer notion of being strapped in a little moving steel cylinder God knew how many feet underground almost making me break out in hives.
I'd never liked undergrounds – or airplanes for that matter. It wasn't in my nature to allow myself to be trapped and completely at the mercy of someone or something else.
Besides, it hadn't exactly helped that I'd been on my way to Kings Cross station – on my way to take the very same Circle Line that got hit – that day, July 7th 2005, when terrorist attacks hit London in its very heart.
I shook my head, remembering the mixture of shock, horror, relief and guilt I'd felt that day. If I hadn't gone back because I'd left my notebook at the library I would have been on that train.
Where walking the streets had felt like a strange experience, being back in Hyde Park felt almost surreal. After all, growing up in Barnes before moving into student digs in Camden, I hadn't spent all that much time in Bayswater – not enough for the place to feel familiar at least.
Hyde Park, on the other hand…..Up until the moment where things went tits up in my life, I'd spent nearly every sunny Sunday hanging out in that park with my mum and dad and my baby sister. When we were little, mum would make an effort to drag us kicking and screaming to some museum in the morning to look at pretty pictures neither Bea nor I had any interest in seeing, before spending the afternoon in the park picnicking, playing games, listening to whatever nutcase had claimed the soap box at Speakers Corner and just hanging out and enjoying the sun.
Looking around me as I entered the park, my eyes immediately caught places associated with those memories: the tree I'd been sitting against reading Kerouac on one of our last outings, the pond my twelve year old self had almost dropped my two year old sister in when I tried to help her feed the ducks, the wide sand path – or 'rotten row' as it was called – cutting through the park where Bea has stood waiting for the horses and carriages I'd fooled her into thinking would pass…
I smiled, remembering how good my life had been back then, before it all got tainted by her.
Vicky.
She never wanted to come to these afternoons and since I was so caught up in her that I didn't want to spend any time apart from her except form when I absolutely had to, I did the dumbest thing in my life and stopped coming, choosing instead to spend my Sundays holed up in my digs smoking weed with her and her lowlife friends when I could have been out here, in nature, keeping in touch with the people who loved me for who I was instead of what I was (or what they thought I would be).
I hated her and her friends – looking back on it, five years later, I could say that with absolute clarity – but most of all I hated myself for allowing myself to become a person I didn't even recognize.
For allowing them to lead me on a path I'd spent years trying to get off.
For allowing myself to become estranged from everyone who ever matter to me.
For breaking me.
I'd shown a true weakness of character back then; a fatal flaw that allowed me to turn my back on everything I ever through was true and just and doing the exact opposite just because I was weak and in love and blind….and because I could.
And here I was, five years later, still wondering whether or not it had just been a fluke or whether that weakness was ingrained into my soul and destined to ruin everything good that came into my life.
But I couldn't think about that, not at that moment and not if I wanted to have any shot at success with this Jane Livingston character.
And from what I heard she was quite a character.
Over the past couple of weeks, Bella had tried her damndest to school me in all things Jane; pointing out what her boss liked and hated in a prospective employee and how she would expect me to act.
Still, as my feet halted in front of the Berkeley Hotel and I looked up at the enormous, limestone colossus of opulence, I didn't feel all that prepared to be honest.
In fact, I imagined I must have felt just about the same that first day my mum dropped my off for my first day at Nursery School. The snooty look the doorman gave me as I walked past him didn't help and neither did the fact that I had to announce my visit like I was going in to see the bloody queen.
"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist at the front desk ask me, trying her best to retain that haughty look that everyone walking around the place sported even though I caught her more than once checking me out when she thought I wasn't looking.
"Edward Cullen?" I looked back at her to see if the name rang any bells. "I have an appointment with a Mrs. Jane Livingstone."
"Ah, yes," she nodded, flashing me what was probably supposed to be a stealthy, flirty smile. "They are waiting for you upstairs. If you'd like to take the elevator up to the fifth floor, I'll let them know you're coming."
"Thanks." My smile was too tense to carry any weight as I turned back towards the elevators, trying very hard not to think about how my future was riding on the next couple of hours.
When I exited the elevator, the first thing I noticed was a woman frantically pacing up and down in front of Jane's room, her eyes lighting up the minute she saw me emerge. "Edward Cullen?"
I nodded, adjusting the strap of my bag to make me look like a professional instead of like some snotty schoolboy on a sixth grade school trip.
"You're to go straight in," she announced. "Jane's still on the phone but she'll be with you as soon as she's done."
For all intents and purposes the poor woman looked and acted like a robot – a scared one, though. Not a hair or button was out of place or a word spoken that could be interpreted as an insult or even a thinly veiled sneer. She looked like she'd been cooked up somewhere in a lab in Stepford as the businessman's perfect accessory to his Stepford Wife. From what Bella told me I knew she was Jane's secondary assistant, temporarily promoted because Rose had other stuff to do that prevented her from tagging along on this trip. This must have been one of her first big assignments.
It would explain the nerves.
"Wouldn't it be better if I just waited out here?" I asked.
The woman looked as if I'd just dropped my pants and took a dump right there on the landing. "No, I remember she told me…" she spoke in an increasingly panicked voice.
"It's okay," I halted her, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'll go in."
The poor woman breathed a sigh of relief; the first genuine emotion (maybe aside from fear) I'd seen her betray, as I walked up to the door and pushed it open to find a luxury suite, empty apart from the sounds of a lively, one-way conversation going on in the en-suite bedroom.
The fierce nod of the robot-assistant made me walk in, even though it felt kind of odd to encroach on someone's privacy like that, the increasing ferocity of the call making me regret my decision to comply with Jane's wishes almost immediately.
"I don't care if those chairs don't come in black," her sharp voice preceded her before she marched into the room. "You tell them to get me those damn folding chairs in black or they are going to lose one of the biggest clients they have."
It was clear from the way she was moving that Jane wasn't aware I was in the room and with the way she was acting – all pent up rage and hostility – I wasn't all that keen on making my presence known. So I stuck to my safe corner, using my obscurity to study the woman I hoped was going to be my new boss like a screwed up version of David Attenborough.
Bella had been right. Though Jane Livingston was so small you could almost step right over her and never notice, there was something about that woman that made her scary as shit. It might have been the larger-than-life personality that made her appear like she was twice the size she actually was, or the way she looked; an appearance that looked like it had been cooked up in some sort of military lab. Whatever it was, though, it was nothing if not effective.
She was a predator, there was no escaping it, the kind of woman who ate reporters for breakfast and editors for lunch. And as I stood there, cautiously waiting for her to notice me, I couldn't help but wonder if I would be her perfect, bite sized idea of elevenses.
She paused at the window, her shoulders set firm as she listened to whatever poor soul was on the other end of the line. "Is that so?" she finally barked. "Then you run your pretty little ass upstairs and ask my stepfather how many times that deadbeat brother of mine has organized a ball before. I'll tell you: none!"
With that she snapped her phone shut and threw it onto the sofa, shaking her head as she muttered, "Why on earth does nobody do as they are told anymore? Is it really so hard to follow directions?"
I scrapped my throat, not really wanting her to notice me but knowing that standing here without doing something to get her to notice me would make me out to be a complete pussy. "Mrs. Livingston?"
Her head shot up, her eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on me before her lips pulled into a small, tight smile that was just about as opposite from comforting as you could get. "Ah, you're here."
I nodded. "They told me to come in and…"
"Finally someone who understands the importance of punctuality," she muttered, cutting straight through my apology.
I snickered. I'm sure Bella would have a thing or two to say about that.
"Look," she went on, her smile gone as she looked at her watch, "as charming as you undoubtedly are, I have no time to waste on pleasantries. There's a three o clock flight out of Heathrow this afternoon and I intend to be on it so let's make this snappy."
"O-okay." I swallowed, taking the seat her bony fingers pointed at. Bella hadn't been kidding about her, that much was for sure.
She folded her body into a lounge chair that seemed too large for her small, almost ferrety body. "I take it you've got your portfolio with you?"
I nodded, taking the black binder that housed the best of my work out of my messenger bag. "It's organized chronologically, to give you a good idea of my development through the years."
"Hmm." She pursed her lips, looking at the binder as if it was a fresh pile of vomit for a few moments before she hesitantly and almost reluctantly started to rifle though it. "Yes, no surprises here…"
I frowned, wondering why she'd gone through all the trouble to set up this meeting when it looked like she was about as interested in me and my work as she would have been in having a colonoscopy. "Is there something wrong?"
"No," she replied, her voice clipped and measured. "Your pictures are just as good as I expected them to be, which is why I wonder why I even bothered to look at them in the first place."
Okay, this was definitely not going as I thought it would. "Do you want me to show you something else?" I tried, nervously licking my lips.
"No…no." She shook her head, a hint of one of the creepiest smiles I'd ever witnessed playing on her lips. "I think I've seen enough."
"Oh," I breathed, having no bloody idea how to act. "Okay."
She sat back, her face showing a fascinated curiosity that reminded me somehow of this documentary on praying mantises I'd seen on Discovery Channel a couple of days ago. I'd be damned of that female hadn't looked at her mate like that just before she snagged off his head.
My nerves, combined with the stifling atmosphere and the mother of all uncomfortable silences that had fallen over the room, made me seriously rethink being there. That was, until she poke. "I want to offer you a two-year position at Epicenter."
My head snapped up towards her so fast I was afraid I'd pulled a muscle. Not that I cared at that moment. "What?"
"You will offer your work exclusively to us and give us the right to edit your material as we see fit," she went on. "I've taken the liberty of having my lawyers draw up a contract."
Her bony hands slid a heavy manila envelope across the table. "Have a look. It's all in there."
I did as I was told, half afraid that if I wouldn't she was going to reach across the table and slap me. It wouldn't have surprised me if she did.
"You will get your assignments from Kai Grindlewald, the creative director of the magazine," she pressed on, "and though at times you will be required to do some portrait photography, your work will mostly consist of capturing news from all around the world that will appeal to our American audience and presenting it in a photo report that is in keeping with the style and standard of the magazine."
I nodded. This seemed almost too good to be true. "Do I get a say in the topic matter?"
She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. "You can make suggestions but ultimately the decision will be made in New York."
"Fair enough." I went back to perusing the folder, seeing all sorts of words and clauses and numbers that completely freaked me out. Bloody hell! How was I ever going to make sense of this? I could be signing over my firstborn to the Wicked Witch of the West and not know it with all this legal mumbo jumbo!
"I demand exclusivity," she snapped, making me look up from the document. "It's all in the papers but I wanted you to be in no doubt of what that means. The rest….I supposed it could all be debated if you see a necessity to do so."
I nodded, already having seen the clause in the contract. "I know….."
"You look like a bright kind of man, so I'm sure you've done the digging and found out by now what my patronage can do for you." She sat back, looking rather pleased with herself as she waited for me to nod my assent. "Honor this contract and you will become a household name."
Her mouth pulled into a hard line, making me somehow suspect that she expected more enthusiasm from me or something. Wait? Was I supposed to genuflect or drop down and kiss her feet in a full on worship? There wasn't anything in the contract about that, was there?
"I…er….I really appreciate….." I started to stammer.
My fumbling made her lips pull into a mocking smirk as she held up her hand, putting an end to my blatant display of inadequacy. "Don't take me for a fool, though. I was already running my first headline article when you were still in diapers. I've been around the block more times than I care to remember and I know every trick in the book."
Her eyes seared into me, making me unconsciously shrink in my chair and fumble with the collar of my shirt, trying to get enough air into my lungs while she droned on. "If you so much as think about breaking this contract, I will know. And if you do, I will personally make sure you will never sell another picture again."
I swallowed hard, feeling my Adam's apple bob up and down in my throat as I tried my damndest not to show my fear. "Right."
I nervously licked my lips, my fingers mechanically turning the pages of the contract even though my mind was far too busy to take any of it in. God I needed a smoke! Being in the same room as this woman was making me feel all kind of suffocated. It was like her mere presence sucked all light and happiness out of the room.
No wonder Bella had been so glad – well, after her initial freak out – to trade her desk for an airplane. Fancy being stuck in an office with that one all day! I'd go completely bonkers and stab her with a letter opener well before lunch.
But then again, I didn't have Bella's sweet, kind nature.
The thought of my girl, and more specifically, the thought of being with her in a couple more hours made wonder what this offer would mean for her.
I knew she'd be happy for me and I had a feeling that as much as I liked to think that I'd earned this opportunity all on my own, she had probably had as much a hand in it as I had, but on the flipside I knew that taking this offer would mean that I could jeopardize what little time we could spend together.
Besides, I didn't like the idea of Bella traipsing around Europe with some other photographer one bit. I frowned as I rifled through the impressive stack of papers, trying to see if there was anything in the pages that could shed some light on the matter.
"Yes?" Jane's voice sneered impatiently.
"I….erm…..I was wondering about my work with Miss Swan?" I stammered. "Could I still….."
"That goes without saying." Jane's cool blue eyes gazed at me like they were questioning my mental faculties. "It's not my intention to waste good money on hiring someone else to take over the job when we've got someone who is more than able do it already on our payroll. You will arrange your new work around Isabella's trips."
"Good." I somehow doubted that her words were meant to be construed as anything but a direct order but I felt the need to express my approval none the less.
As I went back to studying the contract, I started to notice Jane shift in her seat; impatience rolling off her in big, hostile waves the longer I took. "I take it you find everything in order?" she sneered, when apparently she couldn't bear the silence any longer.
"I don't…." I scratched the back of my head, trying to figure out how to ask for more time without pissing her off. "I think I'll need some time to take a good look at all of this and think things over…."
"You need more time." Her mouth was pressed into a hard line, her eyes glaring back at me.
I tried to swallow the discomfort I felt, my throat dry and painful. "It's a big decision?" I hated sounding like a pussy in front of a woman like that but I couldn't deny the effect she had on me. Blimey! That woman made my bollocks want to crawl back inside my body for safety!
She pursed her lips even further, seemingly dissatisfied with my answer. Did she really expect me to jump up and turn a cartwheel at the prospect of handing her my bollocks on a silver platter? "I expect to hear your answer by the end of the week."
I nodded, wanting to at least let her know I was eager yet a little scared. "You'll have it."
"Very well," she let out a deep, dramatically malcontented sigh as she rose from her chair. "That will be all."
And just like that she marched out of the room into the adjoining bedroom without as much as a glance backwards.
From my conversations with Bella, I knew that this meant my presence in the room was no longer required and since I didn't want to piss my new boss off before I'd even signed the bloody contract (because let's face it, it was going to happen no matter how much I'd convinced myself I still needed to have a good, long think about her offer) I hastily shoved my stuff back into my messenger bag and took my leave, noting with no small amount of relief that the robotic Stepford assistant was no long patrolling the corridor.
One down, one to go.
Stepping into the elevator a huge chunk of the weight that had been on my shoulders slowly started to drop and with it, I could feel my lips pulling into a victorious grin. I'd done it.
In just over half an hour, I had somehow managed to convince Jane Livingston, one of the great names in the world of publishing, that I was a photographer worth taking a chance on and walked out of there with a contract in my pocket and a chance to finally make my name and earn a decent living in the process.
Thirty minutes…..that was all it took.
Thirty minutes had been the culmination of five years of scraping a living and going from one rejection to the next, trying to get to this point.
I still couldn't believe the enormity of the offer she'd made me and the affects it would have on both my life and my career. This was big…..it was what I'd been waiting for all those years.
It was the big break I'd given up hoping for some time ago.
And it was here.
Right in front of me, waiting for me to grab it.
Wow.
Taking this job would mean my life as I knew it was going to change beyond recognition. It would no longer be stationary and limited to the place I was living in but I'd get the change to travel the globe – or at least the continent – in search of stories I could capture in the reflection of my lens.
No more wedding photography. I chuckled, biting my lip to stop myself from doing a happy dance right there in the lobby of a posh hotel. No more certifiably psychotic mother's of the bride yelling at me. No more brides trying to flirt with me when they'd just pledged their everlasting love to another man. No more grooms and fathers of the bride looking at me like they're inwardly debating what would be the most painful way for me to die….No more of any of that.
By the time I was walking out of the Berkeley Hotel, my mind was already full of ideas for my first shoot my body humming with impatience to share my news with Bella as I made my way over to Hyde Park Corner to catch the 22 bus to Putney Common.
Home.
Well it had been, almost a lifetime ago.
"And?" Bella 's soft, warm voice breathed as she picked up almost on the first ring. She must have been waiting for my call. "How did it go? What did she say?"
I chuckled. "Calm down, love! One question at the time. Where are you, by the way? I thought your plane would have left by now."
"I'm waiting at the gate," she was quick to reply. "I think it's going to be another half hour or so before they'll start boarding."
Thank God! At least that meant she would be by my side – even if it was just on the phone – as I made my way over to Barnes. "Will you be able to talk for that long?"
"Of course I will." The tone of her voice told me she knew just what I was asking. "Not quit stalling and give me some answers!"
"Wow! Impatient much?" I grinned.
"Yes," she snapped. "Now shoot!"
Well, here goes nothing. "She offered me a job," I started. It was all I could get in, word wise, before Bella's squeals made me have to move the phone a bit further away from my ear to avoid hearing damage.
"I knew it! That's so great, Edward! Did you take it?"
"Deep breaths, love," I chuckled, my own enthusiasm growing as I listened to hers. "I told her I'd think about it."
"You're so brave!" Bella chuckled. "I bet she didn't like that, huh?"
"Not one bit." I cringed, remembering the look on Jane's face, "but she gave me the rest of the week to deliberate."
"Hmph," Bella huffed.
"What?"
"I've worked for her for three days and I don't even get twenty-four hours whereas you get a whole damn week?" she cried. "That's so not fair!"
I snorted. "I beg to differ! I'm pretty bloody sure that if she'd just threatened to obliterate you if you didn't do what she told you when she told you, you'd have had the courtesy of a week to catch your breath and contemplate the offer as well."
"Wow!" Bella chuckled. "She really went in guns blazing, didn't she."
"Yeah," I smirked. "That woman is as scary as the devil!"
"I told you so," she sang.
"At least I got out unharmed."
"And with a nice, juicy contract to boot," she added. "God I wish I was there right now!"
"You will be in…" I shifted, pushing the sleeve of my coat back to reveal my watch. "….eight hours?"
"God, that sounds like an eternity," she groaned.
I smiled, leaning my head against the cool glass of the buss window. I knew just how she felt. "Just think of me and time will fly by," I cooed.
"Smug bastard!" she chuckled. "So where are you right now?"
"I'm in a bus somewhere between central London and Wandsworth," I answered. I'd traveled that same route so many times over the years that I could almost list all the stops underway by heart. "And more precisely: we've just driven past All Saints and are now encroaching the Putney Bridge."
"Wait a minute." I could almost see Bella's forehead scrunch with thought. "I thought you said your parents lived somewhere else?"
"In Barnes, yes," I chuckled, proud that my girl had remembered such a small detail. "But if I want to get there without having to change about a million times, this is pretty much the only way."
"Okay." She was quiet for a moment or two, digesting the information. "So this Wandsworth….is it close to where your parents live?"
"About a fifteen minute walk," I explained as the bridge crossed Putney Bridge and moved into Wandsworth. Closer to home.
The nerves that thought brought on made me blurt out random thoughts in order to not have to think about it. "So I think I've found the perfect spot for our date tomorrow night."
Shit! I gave myself a mental slap for saying that. Knowing Bella she was going to nag me until I ruined the surprise. "Did you?" she purred, like a lioness on the prowl. Just like I expected. "And where, might I ask, are you taking me?"
"You may ask but I'm never going to tell," I countered. "You already got as much out of me as you're ever going to get before you'll see the place with your own two eyes."
"Not fair!" she pouted. "The only thing you told me was that we weren't going to go skydiving!"
"And I hate even having told you that much!" I chuckled. "Honestly, though? I'm fairly certain you're going to love it."
"Of course I will," her sweet voice answered. "I'll be with you."
I smiled, wondering, as I'd done so many times, how on earth I'd managed to deserve her. At least tomorrow I'd get the chance to show her just how much she meant to me – in every way.
I knew it was going to take more than a fancy meal at a posh restaurant to make her see just how special she was to me, but at least taking her out for a 'full-on' date might be a start. As to what was going to happen after our date…..
Well, that was up to her.
I had the feeling she was as ready as I was to take our relationship to the next level, though I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge that she'd been ready for quite some time. I, on the other hand…..
It wasn't like I was some kind of romantic sap who wanted to save myself for marriage or anything, it was just that I wanted my first time with Bella to be meaningful; something we'd both made a conscious decision about instead of something that happened in an afterthought.
Besides….after the way Vicky basically had used sex as a weapon to sink her claws into me and I'd pretty much copied her behavior after she'd dumped me just so that I was able to feel something, I 'd wanted more than anything to be sure that I was going into this with a clear mind instead of relapsing into old habits.
Bella was too precious to me to risk that.
"Oh shoot!" I heard Bella mutter on the other end of the line. "They are starting to board the plane now. Will you be alright or do you want me to wait?"
"I'll be fine," I reassured her, though the thought of going to rest of the way without Bella's voice to distract me already make me break out in a cold sweat. "You go and get your pretty little ass on that flight, love."
"Always such a charmer!" she huffed.
"What can I say?" I chuckled. "It's in my nature."
We said our goodbyes and ended the call just as the bus rolled to a halt at the Commondale bus stop – my stop – my nerves increasing exponentially with every second that passed and every step that brought me closer to my childhood home.
This had been a mistake. I shouldn't have come here. Not today. Not after what had happened. I growled under my breath, probably making the old ladies I was passing think I was some lowlife junkie bag snatcher judging from the way they grabbed hold of their purses like they were carrying the bloody crown jewels.
I couldn't find it in myself to care. Not then. We should have met at some neutral sort of place with lots of exits and people to stop this from turning ugly, my inner voice went on.
Bloody know it all!
It was too late to change things anyway, my feet remembering their way even if my mind was running off every which way it could, which meant that fifteen minutes later and about half a packet of Marlboro's found me flinging the butt of my last cigarette into the gutter in front of the house I'd grown up in.
I looked up, the red brick and cream wood of the façade still looking just as it did the last time I'd been there. A few of the shrubs may have grown and there were some plants I couldn't remember being there but apart from that it was all still the same.
Nothing had changed.
Everything had changed.
Or maybe it was just me.
Mum was at the door before I'd even rung the bell, the door swinging open leaving me no last chance to change my mind. Which was probably why she'd been waiting in ambush. She knew me.
"Edward!" Her face lit up in a warm smile. "You're here."
"In the flesh," I muttered, running my foot along the geometrical pattern of the front walk.
Her arms opened as if to hug me before she thought better of it, her hands dropping down almost defeated as she continued to drink me in. "Won't you come in?" The hesitance in her voice told me she didn't take anything for granted.
Good. I nodded, following her into the hallway. "It's bloody cold out."
Mum chuckled, holding her hand out for my coat. "It's January, what did you expect?"
"I dunno," I shrugged. Well, this was bloody awkward.
Walking after her into the kitchen I started to notice some subtle changes, mum's eyes following mine as they took in the sum of five years. "I couldn't stand being around all that green anymore," she explained in a muted, slightly unsteady voice, "so I had Carlisle paint it blue."
Looking at her – really looking at her – for the first time since I'd set foot in the house, I started to notice the changes in her as well. There was more grey in her hair and lines in her face that hadn't been there before. Worry lines.
"We haven't changed much else," mum went on, taking me into the kitchen. "Even your room…it's still as it was the last time you were in it."
"Thanks, I guess," I muttered, relieved when mum immediately set herself the task of making tea. It was kind of a relief to know that hadn't turned it into an extra study or a sauna or some other random use for a spare room.
It meant that even though my behavior hadn't given them any incentive to do otherwise, they hadn't written me off completely.
"I could make you some coffee if you want," she offered, her hand hovering over the kettle. 'I know you've been living in Italy for the past few years and…."
"Tea will be fine, mum," I chuckled, awkwardly standing next to the kitchen table; unsure whether to just sit down or wait to be invited.
"Please, make yourself at home," mum urged me, settling my dispute before I could make a fool out of myself and ask her permission. "I know it's been a while and I know it will be a while more before you could really feel at home here again but I never… This is and will always be your home. I don't want you to feel awkward here."
Too late, mum. "Thanks." The chair scraping back against the polished floorboards seemed too loud a noise for the quiet kitchen and as I sat down I wished mum would turn on the radio like she did when I was young.
This room used to be filled with music and life back then whereas right now it just seemed to be laden with awkwardness, good intentions and hope; a mixture even more stifling than the cocktail of fear and oppression in Jane's hotel room.
"Is dad going to be here?" I tried as mum bustled on in the kitchen. Over the years dad had always been good at breaking the tension and acting as a go-between between me and mum.
"He got called into work," mom sighed as she carried the tea tray to the table. "One of his elderly patients took a turn for the worse last night and he wants to be there for her and his family when she crosses….."
Yeah, that sounded like the dad I knew; always trying to be there for the ones who needed him most. "Does he still work at all hours?"
"Things have calmed down a little ever since he brought a partner into the practice two years ago," mum answered, pouring tea through a tea strainer, "but you know how he is. When a patient he's been looking after for twenty odd years needs him, he's not going to bother with visiting hours."
"Still, it must be hard to always have to share him."
She shrugged. "I've grown used to it over the years and besides...it's been a lot easier since Beatrice has grown to an age where you can leave her alone in the house without having to worry about her setting the place on fire."
"I guess that's true," I chuckled.
"So what about you?" mum asked. "Do you have anyone special in your life right now?"
I smiled, thinking about Bella, suspended somewhere over the Atlantic as she flew towards me. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Is it Tanya?" mum's excitement grew now that we'd found something to talk about. "You know how much I love her…'
"No mum, it's not Tanya." I fought the urge to roll my eyes. My parents had always made sure I knew how much they were in favor of me and Tanya getting together. "You know it was never like that between the two of us."
"It's such a shame the two of you never tried to make it work," mum pouted. "She's such a nice girl and from good family to boot….."
"Mum!" I groaned. "Please drop it?"
"Very well," mum sighed dramatically. "How has she been of late?"
"Who? Tanya?"
"Yes, of course."
I cringed, remembering how my latest conversation with Tanya hadn't exactly gone off without a hitch. "She's doing good."
"Does she still live in Berlin?"
I nodded. "But she won't be there for much longer. She got this job in Amsterdam at the Rietveld Academy, her old school, so she, Heidi and Peter will be moving there before the new academic year starts."
"Her parents will be so proud of her," mum gushed, "and happy too, that she will be moving closer to home again."
"I think that's what was behind the move," I nodded. "Tanya said something about her dad not doing too well and how she wanted to be around more to help her mum." I left out how she tried to push me into moving to Amsterdam with them and had been quite put out – to put it mildly – when I refused.
"I will never be able to thank her enough for what she did for you…." Mum's voice sounded heavy with pain, her eyes fixed on the table top as she went on, "for who she was to you when I wasn't….."
I knew perfectly well what my mother was going to say without having her speak the words out loud. When they weren't around.
"I…..we…." she closed her eyes, searching for words. When she opened them again, I could see she'd come to some sort of revolve. "We did you a great wrong that day, Edward."
I sighed, scratching the back of my head. As much as I may have wanted to hear my mother say those words at one time, right now…..There was no point in hearing what was already so plain to see. "Mum, I don't…."
"No, Edward, please let me speak," she pleaded with me. "If not because you want to hear the words then please….I need to say them out loud."
Thinking about it I could see where she was coming from. This meeting wasn't just a huge thing for me, it was for her too.
"Your father and I made a choice that day. We hoped cutting you off would make you see how great our worries were about the path you'd taken…." She sighed, a tear dripping onto the table as she hug her head. "We were wrong."
"It wasn't all your fault," I shrugged, feeling really miserable for making my mum cry even though deep down I still felt that she'd, in a way, brought this onto herself. "I was too stubborn to see sense even if it would have sat up and slapped me in the face."
I shook my head, thinking back on the miserable son of a bitch I'd been back then. "I think there's nothing you could have done to change the outcome."
"But don't you see?" Mom's eyes snapped up, her look fierce and full of that same self-reproach that had been my trusty friend for the past five years. "As your parents we should have stood by you regardless of our opinion."
"And do what exactly?" I frowned. Mum's determination to make a martyr out of me was starting to get to me a bit. "Hand over cash you and dad had worked hard for, knowing bloody well that I was going to blow it on booze and even worse stuff the minute I thought you weren't looking? Because that's just what I did, mother."
She cringed and for a moment I thought I'd gone too far. "Yes, if that would have been what it took to allow us to be there for you – comfort you – when things went wrong."
"Don't fool yourself." I smiled bitterly. "By the time you kicked me out, I was already beyond saving."
"But not so far that you didn't blame us for the way we acted for the past five years!" mom spoke, her voice stronger and slightly raised.
Before I could answer, the sound of the front door opening and closing made me pause, mum's worried look confirming what I'd suspected.
Bea was home.
"Mummy, did you see my….." Bea's voice trailed off as she rounded the corner, coming face to face with me and mum sitting around the kitchen table.
She was all around me the next moment, before I even had the time to take in the changes five years of absence had brought to her. "Eddie!"
"I thought I told you not to call me that a long time ago!" I grumbled as I closed my arms around her, breathing in the smell of my childhood.
Bea chuckled, squeezing me just a little bit tighter. "And I thought I told you long ago that I didn't give a toss?"
I snorted. "Bitch!"
I yelped as she kicked me, her shoes leaving quite a sting as they connected with my shin. "Wanker!" she growled, scowling back at me as she finally took a breather from the hugging.
"Children!" mom scolded. "I thought I raised both of you better than that!"
"Sorry, mum," we sang in unison, both grinning as we looked at each other.
God she'd grown. The little girl was no longer a little girl but a woman with all the proper attributes and all that.
"Now, Bea, you'd better pop up and get your things. You know ballet practice starts in half an hour and it will take you at least fifteen minutes to get there!" mum pressed sternly.
Bea pouted. "But mummy…"
Mum held up her hand, her face all business as she spoke again. "Don't you 'but mummy' me, missy. You know that only works on your father. We pay good money on your ballet lessons and you've already missed last week's class because you wanted to go on that mini-break with Nicola and Louise."
"But….." Bea started, only to be interrupted again before she even had a chance to speak.
"Edward will still be here when you get back." Mum turned to me, her face equal parts hopeful and pleading. "Won't you, Edward?"
I nodded, patting her hand to put her mind at ease. "Of course I will. Come on, Bea, do you really think I'd bugger off before getting to taste mum's cooking?"
Bea just rolled her eyes at me, muttering something under her breath I was sure mum was going to scold her for if she heard what it was, before stomping up the stairs.
"You did tell her I was coming home?" I whispered, knowing Bea was out of earshot but not wanting to take the risk of her overhearing something that might hurt her anyway.
Mum smiled sadly, her hand folding around mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "We….I wasn't sure….I didn't want to get her hopes up in case…."
"In case I didn't show up," I finished for her, feeling like the lousiest son in the world when I realized her worries were all too justified. "I'm sorry, mum. "
"Don't be." Mum brushed her tears away and somehow managed to forced a smile onto her face. "We brought this onto ourselves when we turned you away that night. If only I could turn back time…"
I shook my head, stopping her before she'd work herself up even more. "We'd all do things differently if we got a second shot," I shrugged. "It's in the past now. I'm over it."
I didn't realize just how true those words were until I spoke them out loud. What was done was done. It was in the past and no matter how much we'd all want to, there was no changing it.
I was over it.
"Good." Her smile widened into something genuine. "now how about you help me get dinner on the table while we talk?"
I grinned back, rising when she did. "Sounds like a plan."
We were both silent as Bea thundered up and down the stairs to get her ballet stuff, her lips pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheeks as she whirled past us on her way out. "Please be here when I get back?"
I rolled my eyes, swatting her rear as she moved on to kiss mum goodbye. "Of course I will! What do you take me for?"
After she was gone, it seemed like the ice had been broken; the atmosphere in the room turning from darkness to light as mum put a huge bowl of peas in front of me. "You'd better get to work, then."
I looked from the huge bowl of green to her. "Does this mean….."
She shrugged. "I figured those Italians probably wouldn't be as big on mushy peas as we are over here."
I grinned, knowing this probably meant she'd made the rest of my favorites – herb-crusted lamb and roasted potatoes – as well. "You guessed right."
"Is that why you look as skinny as a bone?"
I scowled, trying to stare her down. "I'm not much of a cook and as for eating out…..I guess dad cued you in on my financial situation?"
She had the good grace to blush. "I didn't….."
"I'm not an idiot, mom," I snickered. "I know a spy when I see one. Besides, if you want to be all stealthy about it,. You could have send someone who's a better actor than dad is."
"We just worry about you, that's all," she muttered, getting back to peeling potatoes.
"I know," I sighed, "but you don't have to. Not anymore." The thought that after years of scraping by, Jane's offer allowed me a future of being able to pay my way in the world made me fill with pride as I proceeded to tell my mum all about my meeting with my new boss.
'That's amazing, Edward!" she gushed, her eyes filling with a pride I never thought I'd see. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, mum." My throat closed up as I let her words sink in. After the whole art school debacle I'd never expected to find parental approval again but having it….it meant the world to me.
"So Edward…." Mum's voice sounded after we'd both been silent for some time.
I looked back up from the peas I'd been shedding I'd been dissecting to find mum looking back at me with a mischievous kind of curiosity. "What?"
"I'm just wondering," she answered innocently. 'If Tanya's not the girl for you, then who is?"
"Her name is Bella." I couldn't contain my smile as I spoke her name. "I met her on a job in Rome and she's…she's perfect, mum."
I sighed, my hand playing with the edge of the table cloth. "I love her."
Yep. I really did end it here, right before Edward and Bella will be reunited again but because I don't want to keep you waiting any longer there will be another chapter on Wednesday which will cover their reunion and a few other things. You can find a teaser for it on the Fictionators' Teaser Monday. Excited?
Follow me on twitter for updates on my writing and everything else. I'm missbaby25 over there.