James sighed. He had just gotten off the plane and was now trying to
find someone named Adam. He had barley gotten any sleep on the plane, but
not for lack of trying. The entire 15 hours that he was on the plane was
filled with dread. Two weeks ago he knew that he really didn't want to
come back to London. Now he knew that this was probably a really big
mistake.
"So, do you know where we are supposed to meet this Adam, James?" the woman walking with him asked.
"No. But he will probably have a cute little sign telling us who exactly he is looking for," James answered. As they walked out of the terminal, they were greeted with many men and woman holding signs on who they were looking for. "See, I told you. There he is." He started walking over to a young looking man holding a sign that said 'Mr. Evans and Miss Carther.'
"Are you Adam?" James asked.
The man nodded. "Mr. Evans?" This time James nodded. "Do you have everything?" Another nod from James was his response. "Then follow me please."
They followed Adam out of the airport and to a medium sized car. James guessed it was the company car, for it just had that vibe to it. Soon they were on the road and speeding towards the office in the heart of London.
*^*^*^*
"Ah, Mr. Evans. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are finally here. Our clients were getting quite anxious," a man in slacks and a semi- unbuttoned dress shirt said. He then turned to the woman. "Maybelle Carther. It has been too long. I am glad that you have decided to return to us here in London."
"I got a little tired of driving on the right side of the road," was her reply before she gave the man a hug.
"Always the jokester," he said with a smile before turning to James. "Listen, everything you need to know about the account is set up in your office for the time you will be here. And another account just came in. Not as big as the Black account, but still a prominent member of society. He wants you to be in charge. He saw your work and loved it. He did say that he could wait a while, so you can either wait until you are finished with the Black's, or work on it at the same time. The only problem is that it's in Surry and it's two houses. He wants his parents house done as well. He says it hasn't changed a bit in at least 25 years. A bit scary if you ask me."
"Wait a minute. I just signed on for the Black account, and only because I was threatened to be fired if I didn't. I just want to finish and leave," James said.
"Well, I could ask you really nicely, or I could threaten you as well. It's not that big of a deal. Only a couple of four bedrooms. Not as big as the Black house. Why do you want to leave so quickly anyways? I thought you were English?"
"Oh, I am. I just have too many bad memories that I would rather not remember and people I would rather not see," James answered quietly. He quickly weighted his options. He really did want these accounts, but he really didn't want to stay in England anymore than he had to. "Fine, I'll take the account, but no more!"
"Great, I knew you would. Listen, why don't you go and get started. Your hotel is right across the street, so when you finish here we can go and check you in," his 'new' boss said placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maybelle and I have some catching up to do and some paper work to fill out."
James grabbed his bags and headed towards his temporary office. He placed his bags by the door and sat at the desk. He looked at the two binders sitting in front of him. One of them was a huge five-inch binder about half full while the other was a two-inch binder, barley full. He pushed the bigger one away and pulled the smaller one towards him. When he opened it up, he was shocked by the name that greeted him. It was a name he rather would have forgotten, but it seems that the past was going to haunt him on this trip.
"How the hell did he get to be a lawyer?" James asked himself. And then he remembered the last summer that he saw him, the last summer that he actually had. That summer he had lost almost 300 pounds and was not longer pudgy. That summer he had told James that he was trying to turn his life around. He had told him that he wanted to be a lawyer, and by the looks of it, he had succeeded.
James stopped reminiscing and looked at what his cousin wanted done to his house. Nothing fancy, nothing he couldn't handle. Simple elegance was what Dudley had said. Then he came to what Dudley wanted for his parent's house. He nearly laughed out loud as he read what his cousin had said. 'They are still living in the past. They hate change. They hate things to be different, out of the ordinary. There is one room in that house that I want to be so unusual, so weird, so not them, that it will make them think. I want them to have that room to pay them back for what they did to the occupant of that room. The rest of the house I just want to update, bring into the times.'
After he read this, he sat back and thought. Things sure had changed. If his cousin had changed this much, he really didn't want to see how much everyone else had changed. He stood up and crossed to the wall that held a whiteboard on it and started to make notes and drawings. He would occasionally refer back to the notebook and would occasionally go to regular paper and pencil. An hour later a knock on the door startled him so much that his line now had a squiggle. "Come in," he said as he tried to fix his line.
The door squeaked open and a voice said, "Mr. Evans?"
"Yes, come on in. Have a seat," James answered with out looking up from his drawing.
"My name is Dudley Dursley," the man said coming into the room. This made James look up. What he saw shocked him. Dudley was so different from what he remembered growing up. Dudley looked, well, fit. "I was told that you are the designer for my house and my parents."
James cleared his throat. "Yes I am. I was just making some notes and drawings. If you want to look at what I have thought of so far, you can direct me in the right direction." James gestured towards the whiteboard, now covered with notes and pictures and taped up color splotches. He also gave Dudley the notebook of pictures that he had been working on. When Dudley came to the pictures of the room in his parent's house that he requested as weird, he gave a quiet chuckle.
"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Dursley?" James asked, a little worried.
"No, nothing. It is just that what you have designed for my parents here is perfect. I can't really tell you how perfect it is. It looks like you have a whole magical wonderland planned."
"Yes I do. I thought it is unusual enough, hence the design."
"You don't know how perfect this is," James heard Dudley whisper to himself.
There was an uneasy silence as Dudley looked at the other drawings. By the time he had finished, there was a smile on his face. "They were right when saying you were good, maybe the best. Somehow you knew just what I wanted for every room. And even when I didn't know what I wanted."
"I just went off what you had said, Mr. Dursley," James paused. "So, can you live with them, or should I go back to the drawing board?"
"They're perfect. There are just a couple of minor things that need to be changed, but we can talk about that later. I just really came by today to see when you could get started. I didn't even expect you to have some drawings already."
"I'm afraid that I probably won't be able to start for a couple months. I could probably do a couple rooms here and there, but not the entire house. How about we set up a meeting for about a couple weeks from now and see where everything stands?"
"That would be perfect. I actually have a lot of work on my plate for the next couple of weeks, so when I get back to the office, I will have my secretary call you and make an appointment."
"That sounds great. By then I should have the sketches finalized and everything ready for your approval."
"Sounds good. Until then, Mr. Evans," Dudley said with a nod as he walked out the door.
James let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't really expected Dudley to recognize him, but he was still worried. He looked into the mirror on the back of his door and tried to fix his now light brown hair. But there is not much you can do when your hair is only an inch long. He fingered where his trademark scar used to be and thought back to days when he still had it. He shook his head, trying to clear them of thoughts that he had been trying to forget for the past six years. He went back to his desk and now put away everything that he had been working on for his cousin and pulled the larger binder closer to him. This was going to be tough. It was a 26- bedroom house, complete with ballroom, poolroom, and just about everything else. To design this house, he had spent a couple days with a friend of his in Seattle, living in his mansion. And he still didn't have a good idea on which way to go. He didn't know if the owners wanted it warm and lived in, or impressive and rich. He just had the details of the house, not the conservations that helped him to gage what the owners wanted. So he had designed for both occurrences and was now going to see which one of them he would be showing the owners. But when he opened the notebook, his blood ran cold and his eyes opened wide.
'Owners: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin'
"So, do you know where we are supposed to meet this Adam, James?" the woman walking with him asked.
"No. But he will probably have a cute little sign telling us who exactly he is looking for," James answered. As they walked out of the terminal, they were greeted with many men and woman holding signs on who they were looking for. "See, I told you. There he is." He started walking over to a young looking man holding a sign that said 'Mr. Evans and Miss Carther.'
"Are you Adam?" James asked.
The man nodded. "Mr. Evans?" This time James nodded. "Do you have everything?" Another nod from James was his response. "Then follow me please."
They followed Adam out of the airport and to a medium sized car. James guessed it was the company car, for it just had that vibe to it. Soon they were on the road and speeding towards the office in the heart of London.
*^*^*^*
"Ah, Mr. Evans. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are finally here. Our clients were getting quite anxious," a man in slacks and a semi- unbuttoned dress shirt said. He then turned to the woman. "Maybelle Carther. It has been too long. I am glad that you have decided to return to us here in London."
"I got a little tired of driving on the right side of the road," was her reply before she gave the man a hug.
"Always the jokester," he said with a smile before turning to James. "Listen, everything you need to know about the account is set up in your office for the time you will be here. And another account just came in. Not as big as the Black account, but still a prominent member of society. He wants you to be in charge. He saw your work and loved it. He did say that he could wait a while, so you can either wait until you are finished with the Black's, or work on it at the same time. The only problem is that it's in Surry and it's two houses. He wants his parents house done as well. He says it hasn't changed a bit in at least 25 years. A bit scary if you ask me."
"Wait a minute. I just signed on for the Black account, and only because I was threatened to be fired if I didn't. I just want to finish and leave," James said.
"Well, I could ask you really nicely, or I could threaten you as well. It's not that big of a deal. Only a couple of four bedrooms. Not as big as the Black house. Why do you want to leave so quickly anyways? I thought you were English?"
"Oh, I am. I just have too many bad memories that I would rather not remember and people I would rather not see," James answered quietly. He quickly weighted his options. He really did want these accounts, but he really didn't want to stay in England anymore than he had to. "Fine, I'll take the account, but no more!"
"Great, I knew you would. Listen, why don't you go and get started. Your hotel is right across the street, so when you finish here we can go and check you in," his 'new' boss said placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maybelle and I have some catching up to do and some paper work to fill out."
James grabbed his bags and headed towards his temporary office. He placed his bags by the door and sat at the desk. He looked at the two binders sitting in front of him. One of them was a huge five-inch binder about half full while the other was a two-inch binder, barley full. He pushed the bigger one away and pulled the smaller one towards him. When he opened it up, he was shocked by the name that greeted him. It was a name he rather would have forgotten, but it seems that the past was going to haunt him on this trip.
"How the hell did he get to be a lawyer?" James asked himself. And then he remembered the last summer that he saw him, the last summer that he actually had. That summer he had lost almost 300 pounds and was not longer pudgy. That summer he had told James that he was trying to turn his life around. He had told him that he wanted to be a lawyer, and by the looks of it, he had succeeded.
James stopped reminiscing and looked at what his cousin wanted done to his house. Nothing fancy, nothing he couldn't handle. Simple elegance was what Dudley had said. Then he came to what Dudley wanted for his parent's house. He nearly laughed out loud as he read what his cousin had said. 'They are still living in the past. They hate change. They hate things to be different, out of the ordinary. There is one room in that house that I want to be so unusual, so weird, so not them, that it will make them think. I want them to have that room to pay them back for what they did to the occupant of that room. The rest of the house I just want to update, bring into the times.'
After he read this, he sat back and thought. Things sure had changed. If his cousin had changed this much, he really didn't want to see how much everyone else had changed. He stood up and crossed to the wall that held a whiteboard on it and started to make notes and drawings. He would occasionally refer back to the notebook and would occasionally go to regular paper and pencil. An hour later a knock on the door startled him so much that his line now had a squiggle. "Come in," he said as he tried to fix his line.
The door squeaked open and a voice said, "Mr. Evans?"
"Yes, come on in. Have a seat," James answered with out looking up from his drawing.
"My name is Dudley Dursley," the man said coming into the room. This made James look up. What he saw shocked him. Dudley was so different from what he remembered growing up. Dudley looked, well, fit. "I was told that you are the designer for my house and my parents."
James cleared his throat. "Yes I am. I was just making some notes and drawings. If you want to look at what I have thought of so far, you can direct me in the right direction." James gestured towards the whiteboard, now covered with notes and pictures and taped up color splotches. He also gave Dudley the notebook of pictures that he had been working on. When Dudley came to the pictures of the room in his parent's house that he requested as weird, he gave a quiet chuckle.
"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Dursley?" James asked, a little worried.
"No, nothing. It is just that what you have designed for my parents here is perfect. I can't really tell you how perfect it is. It looks like you have a whole magical wonderland planned."
"Yes I do. I thought it is unusual enough, hence the design."
"You don't know how perfect this is," James heard Dudley whisper to himself.
There was an uneasy silence as Dudley looked at the other drawings. By the time he had finished, there was a smile on his face. "They were right when saying you were good, maybe the best. Somehow you knew just what I wanted for every room. And even when I didn't know what I wanted."
"I just went off what you had said, Mr. Dursley," James paused. "So, can you live with them, or should I go back to the drawing board?"
"They're perfect. There are just a couple of minor things that need to be changed, but we can talk about that later. I just really came by today to see when you could get started. I didn't even expect you to have some drawings already."
"I'm afraid that I probably won't be able to start for a couple months. I could probably do a couple rooms here and there, but not the entire house. How about we set up a meeting for about a couple weeks from now and see where everything stands?"
"That would be perfect. I actually have a lot of work on my plate for the next couple of weeks, so when I get back to the office, I will have my secretary call you and make an appointment."
"That sounds great. By then I should have the sketches finalized and everything ready for your approval."
"Sounds good. Until then, Mr. Evans," Dudley said with a nod as he walked out the door.
James let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't really expected Dudley to recognize him, but he was still worried. He looked into the mirror on the back of his door and tried to fix his now light brown hair. But there is not much you can do when your hair is only an inch long. He fingered where his trademark scar used to be and thought back to days when he still had it. He shook his head, trying to clear them of thoughts that he had been trying to forget for the past six years. He went back to his desk and now put away everything that he had been working on for his cousin and pulled the larger binder closer to him. This was going to be tough. It was a 26- bedroom house, complete with ballroom, poolroom, and just about everything else. To design this house, he had spent a couple days with a friend of his in Seattle, living in his mansion. And he still didn't have a good idea on which way to go. He didn't know if the owners wanted it warm and lived in, or impressive and rich. He just had the details of the house, not the conservations that helped him to gage what the owners wanted. So he had designed for both occurrences and was now going to see which one of them he would be showing the owners. But when he opened the notebook, his blood ran cold and his eyes opened wide.
'Owners: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin'
