Spiritus aduro
Part XI
"'Dear Mr Kettleworth,' You don't think that sounds too formal, do you?" Ria looked worriedly at Charlie. The fact that he was half-naked didn't really bother her.
"Ri, call him whatever you want to call him. Call him Bogeyman for all I care," Charlie told her, rummaging through his bag, probably looking for socks.
"I really get the feeling you aren't taking this seriously," Ria replied, feeling wounded. She'd expected Charlie to understand. She had let him see far more of her soul than anyone – let him witness her at her most vulnerable without the layers of carefully crafted shielding that she had generated over the years.
"Ria, sweetheart," Charlie began, and Ria was startled to realise that the endearment was not intended to raise a laugh. "I care deeply about you. I would walk through fire for you, and lie down as a human bridge for you, you mean that much to me. Andrew Kettleworth, on the other hand, is nothing. I really couldn't care less about him. If he wants to get to know you, that's all well and good for him, but you need to do what you want to do. And if you don't want to refer to him as Dad, or Sir, or Andy, then call him Mr Kettleworth. It is his name, after all." He held her gaze, his hazel eyes keeping her attention. His eyes were amazing, she had decided long ago. Most of the time they were mirthful, with a mischievous glint. But every now and then they became solemn, understanding. Somehow they reassured her – Charlie understood. While she loved the mirthful and mischievous Charlie, she felt much safer when his eyes indicated he was in a more sensitive mood – they seemed to caress her and shut out all of the things that could hurt her. They did that now.
"'Dear Mr Kettleworth, I was somewhat surprised to read your letter detailing the incidents surrounding my birth.' Charlie, this sounds like a job application, not a letter telling him that I'm not ready to have two different families just yet!"
Charlie sighed and came to sit next to her.
"Try something simple," he suggested. "Say thanks for the letter he sent you, and explain that you were supposed to be back in Romania two days ago, so you won't be able to visit him before leaving, but if he wants to write he's welcome to, and then sign it. Short and to the point."
Ria smiled up at him, and found a new piece of writing paper.
"'Dear Mr Kettleworth, Thank you very much for the letter you sent me yesterday – I am grateful that you cleared up any misunderstandings that there may have been. I regret to say that I am unable to visit you in the near future, as it is imperative that I return to work today. However, if you wish to contact me, you are welcome to owl. Yours sincerely, Ariadne Rutherford.' How's that? Still a bit business like?"
"It's fine," Charlie told her.
"Are you ready to go back to work?" Ria asked.
"Are you?" Charlie countered.
"Not really," Ria admitted. "I could do with a few days to get my head around everything, but I don't have that luxury. Besides, maybe I'll be better off if I'm busy."
Charlie nodded.
"Well then, Miss Rutherford, might I suggest that we take that confounded letter to the Owl Office, and then go home?"
"You may, Mr Weasley, and might I add that I find the motion most agreeable."
* * * *
Returning to Romania was probably the best part of Ria's holiday – if you could call it a holiday at all. It had hardly been restful – in fact, it had been quite the opposite. Ria wouldn't wish a similar encounter on her worst enemy. Still, at least she knew now. Knowledge, she reflected, was strangely liberating, and yet at the same time it created a prison of its own. Now that she knew the reason that she had been abandoned, she couldn't create endless fairytales in which an evil wizard had stolen her and had somehow been forced to leave her on the Rutherford's doorstep. Of course, deep down she'd accepted the improbability of that particular scenario, but the point remained. She could no longer formulate elaborate stories that crafted her parents as noble. The truth stung like a knife – she was illegitimate. Worse than that really. But at least she knew. Just as her situation had caused her to spend hours philosophising noble stories for her past, so too had she spent hours in bitter mental agony wondering what she had done that meant her parents didn't want her. Liberating and confining. Contradictory terms, really, but true all the same.
"Hello, earth to Ria!" She was suddenly aware of a hand waving in front of her eyes. She blinked, forcing herself to focus.
"Sorry, Merri, I was miles away," she apologised.
"We noticed," the Scot replied, dryly. "I was asking if you enjoyed your holiday. It's been very quiet around here without you and Charlie.
"It was enlightening," Ria hedged. "But it's nice to be back. You don't realise how beautiful a place is when you see it every day."
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh?" Merri grinned. "I know what you mean though, hen, so don't mind me. I think Jon's a bad influence."
"I heard that!" Jon protested. The three of them were enjoying a steaming pot of tea and toasted crumpets in front of a cosy log fire.
"So," Ria began, dragging the word out mischievously. "What's going on between you two then?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Nothing like that, Ariadne Rutherford, and I'll thank you to keep your mind out of the gutter!" Merri said, quickly, and Ria was pleased to note the rising flush that coloured her cheeks. Nothing like a good bit of fun to make you forget your problems.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a picture of innocence, me," she replied, demurely.
"And pigs might fly," Merri retorted. "I haven't forgotten about your boyfriend, you know."
"Who, Bill?" Ria looked at Merri questioningly.
"How many significant others do you have?" Jon asked, incredulously.
"Well…." Ria's eyes twinkled with merriment. "One in every major city, last time I counted…except New York. I'm working my way around New York looking for the best deal." Jon and Merri looked at her, stunned, before breaking into peals of laughter.
"You make me die," Merri gasped, wiping her eyes. "Why aren't you in comedy, that's what I want to know!"
"Well, you know, I did consider it, but there just isn't enough excitement in comedy," Ria winked. "No one takes you seriously."
"No, you don't say!" Jon said, dryly, before turning to Merri. "Merri, darling, fascinating though this conversation is, I'm going to have to love you and leave you." Merri pouted.
"Must you?"
"Kelley and I need to go through some paperwork-" Merri wrinkled her nose. "I know you think it's pointless, but this is a research institute. We do have to have some evidence of the good work that we do. Besides, Kell and I need to go through the claims forms and owl them to the Ministry or none of you will get paid."
"Oh, I know you have to," Merri agreed. "It's just annoying. Bring Kelley back with you for dinner. She'll need it after going through anything with you!" Kelley Larkin was the British deputy manager at the reserve, and as such, Jon's deputy.
"Will do. See you later." Jon dropped a quick kiss on Merri's head and strode out of the room. Ria waited until the thunk of the door indicated that he had left and then turned to her friend.
"Come on then – spill everything! I want news!"
"Such as…?" Ria rolled her eyes. Merri was being typically vague.
"Has he proposed?"
"RIA!" Merri exclaimed, shocked. "I've only been seeing him for four months. That's hardly long enough for the two of us to form a life-long bond." Ria smiled, knowingly. It was only going to be a matter of time before Merri and Jon made a permanent commitment to each other. She could tell from the odd glances between them that what they had was far more than infatuation – she'd never seen Jon so alive – it was as though Merri had awoken the long forgotten boy in him and restored his faith in human life. The wonder with which Merri and Jon regarded each other made Ria feel envious, if she was honest. She didn't expect that anyone would ever look at her like that, and she didn't want them to. She'd opened up once, but never again. It hurt too much when it all went wrong.
"My parents only courted for six months, you know," she said, slowly. "There's no law that says you have to wait at least a year before making some sort of commitment to each other." Merri stood up abruptly.
"I'm going for a walk," she said, making for the door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob. "I'll be back in time for dinner, and Charlie should be in soon. He was only going to check on Helga – the Horntail, you know. And I don't want to marry Jon, Ria."
"You don't now," Ria said, softly, as Merri's footsteps echoed down the hallway. "But you will."
* * * *
Life in Romania passed as it always had done, and probably always would do. Autumn faded into winter like a flurry of snow. Snow was like sand through an hourglass, every inch that fell indicated the passing of time. Time was precious, but time was easily forgotten, and thus one day Ria entered the flat to find Charlie and Jon raising a Christmas tree in the corner of the sitting room under Merri's direction.
"A bit early for Christmas trees, isn't it?" she asked idly, holding her hands over the fire to warm them. Winters in Romania were hard, particularly in the mountains and forests, where the north wind blew so that no one could avoid feeling its bitter chill, bringing the iciness of the cold season.
"It's the 16th of December, Ri. Only nine days till Christmas," Merri pointed out.
"Is that all?" Ria was shocked. She'd been incredibly busy with work – dragons did not like the cold any more than humans did, but it wasn't as though they could wrap up in thick woolly cloaks. Of course, their thick hides offered protection against the worse of the elements, but they were cold-blooded creatures, and consequently hibernated. It would have been easy to assume that the job of the researchers was greatly reduced when the dragons were deep in sleep, but the reality was quite the opposite. Hibernation was a dangerous state, and many wild dragons did not survive the long winter. It was the job of researchers like Ria to ensure that the dragons in their care did not suffer any adverse effects from their winter solstice.
"Honestly, Ri, we've been talking about Christmas for the past three weeks! Where have you been?" Charlie chastised her. Now that he mentioned it, she vaguely recalled breakfast conversations focusing around what Charlie would get for his brothers and sister, and just how difficult it would be to get to Bucharest to do shopping in such extreme weather conditions. Ria hadn't really paid them much attention – she'd been thinking. She'd done a lot of thinking ever since her trip to Birmingham, but she still didn't have any answers. She wondered if she ever would.
"I've been busy," she told him, quietly. Charlie seemed to notice that she was not her normal bubbly self, and she saw a glint of concern in his eyes. But she wasn't in the mood for the Spanish Inquisition, so she hastily moved on, pulling herself out of the doldrums. "When are you going to Bucharest?"
"Tomorrow, probably," Jon said, authoritatively. "Do you want to come?"
"You should," Merri added. "Jon says they sell absolutely darling rag dolls at the Via Veneficus – Claire and Livvy would love them!"
"Is that okay, Jon?"
"I asked you, didn't I?" Jon grinned, and Ria smiled back. Sometimes it was awkward when your boss was also your friend's boyfriend, but it did have its perks. "Now, are you going to help decorate this Christmas tree or not?" Ria grinned and grabbed a bauble, which flickered in all the colours of the rainbow, illuminating the room.
"Too right I am!" She had always loved decorating the tree, watching in satisfaction as the great fir in the hall of Penarddun went from being an evergreen to a truly magical vision. Christmas had always been her favourite time of year, which made it all the more peculiar that she had forgotten about it.
"I remember when we all decorated the tree at the Burrow," Charlie said. "Ron and Ginny used to fight all the time about whether we put a star or an angel on the top – I'll never forget the year Fred and George enchanted the angel to look like the picture of Hestia Danube in Witch Weekly – there were practically no clothes on her… Ginny was distraught, and Mum gave them the telling off of a lifetime." Ria chuckled. From what she knew of Charlie's brothers, that sort of behaviour really didn't surprise her. Merri laughed.
"Cerys, Dillon and I used to draw straws to see who got to light the candles on our tree," she said, smiling happily. "We did it the Muggle way, of course – Daddy always said that Christmas was the one time of year that we were the same as any of the other people on our street."
"That's the thing, though, isn't it," Jon said, thoughtfully. "Christmas is a time for the family." A time for family. The words echoed in Ria's brain. A time for family. Jon was right, of course. Christmas was a time for family…and she had two families. A time for family…
* * * *
"I wish Merri would hurry up!" Charlie complained, as they stood outside Jon's house, waiting to go to Via Veneficus. "I think my nose is getting frostbite."
Ria smiled at him. It was icy cold, and the dark clouds suggested an imminent blizzard. She was thankful for what felt like three hundred knitted jumpers underneath her thick, woollen, navy blue cloak, and the Ravenclaw scarf she had pillaged from Lucy when her elder sister finished school – it matched better with the bronze tone of her beret and gloves.
"Do noses get frostbite?" Ria asked, curiously. "And I did tell you to wrap up well…didn't your mum send you a balaclava? You could have worn that – then there would be no chance of a frostbitten nose."
"Don't be ridiculous," Charlie complained. "I hate balaclavas. They make you look like a crazed bank robber, and I'd probably end up spending a night in the nearest prison. Not my idea of fun, thank you very much." Ria grinned.
"I dunno, I thought it suited you – and it was such a lovely colour!"
"It was purple and green striped, Ri!"
"Well, your mum's heart's in the right place," Ria amended. "Anyway, there are Merri and Jon, so stop complaining."
"Yes, Ma'am," Charlie replied, mock-saluting. Ria simply pulled a face at him.
They Apparated to the Via Veneficus in record time, and Ria was relieved to see that someone had made an effort to clean the streets of the centre of Romanian wizarding shopping. It was nothing like Diagon Alley – there was an emphasis on the more natural arts rather than on commercialised enterprises, and Ria respected that. To be honest, she didn't really approve of commercialisation anyway. She blamed the Ministry's decision to allow companies to advertise at local Quidditch matches for the sudden influx of toy brooms on the market – and some kids had to have a particular make of toy broom. It was ridiculous. They stopped suddenly outside a small shop that seemed to sell games. In the window, an ornately carved chess set sat in pride of place. Charlie looked at it in delight.
"Ron would love that," he said happily.
"Charlie, you said that Ron only played with your Grandfather's chessmen," Ria protested. She had heard a lot about Ron's legendary talent with a chessboard.
"Not the chessmen, Ri, the board. Look at it!" Ria did as she was told, and understood why Charlie was so happy. Like the chessmen it was beautifully carved, with intricate detail around the edge.
"It's beautiful," she said, wishing that she played chess so that she could fully appreciate the gift.
"Let's go inside and look," Charlie said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the shop. "You two go on without us," he told Jon and Merri. "We'll meet you in two hours outside the café, okay?" Jon nodded.
"What was that for?" Ria asked.
"Well, we didn't really need to tag along with them," Charlie told her. "Let them have some quality time together."
"I never had you pegged as a matchmaker, Mr Weasley, but then, you learn something new every day." Ria linked her arm through his. "Oh look! There's the shopkeeper! We can ask about your chessboard."
Two hours later they arrived at the café, flushed and pleased with themselves. With Ria's multitude of nieces and nephews and Charlie's siblings, they'd been hard pushed to fit all their shopping into the allocated time, but they had managed it…just.
"Did you get everything you wanted?" Merri asked, as the slid into the chairs opposite her and Jon.
"Just about," Ria nodded, while Charlie ordered them both hot chocolate and a sticky bun. "I love this café," she breathed rapturously, completely changing the subject. "It's so Olde Worlde!" It was – the rustic cosiness meant that you were hard pushed to find a nicer café in the whole of Bucharest, and Ria wouldn't want to, anyway – nowhere else served cakes and pastries quite like those sold here.
"It is rather nice, isn't it," Jon agreed, sounding very much as though he thought he was responsible for it all himself. Ria grinned at him.
"Maybe Merri will help you decorate your house like this," she said, her meaning clear. Jon didn't rise to the bait, however.
"Perhaps," he nodded. "So – what did you get everyone?" Ria and Charlie launched into detailed explanation of their many and varied purchases, often talking over each other in their enthusiasm. Merri laughed suddenly.
"What's so funny?" Charlie demanded.
"You two," she replied, through her giggles. "You're like a couple of kids."
"Just as well too," Charlie replied. "Didn't you know that Christmas is a children's festival?" Merri just smiled and sipped her coffee.
"I don't believe you drink that stuff," Ria said, incredulously. "It tastes absolutely vile!"
"It's lovely," Merri insisted. "Much better than tea." Ria looked as though someone had just told her that the world was square.
"The only beverage better than tea is chocolate," she said, self-righteously. "And even that is very very close."
"Ri, whatever you say, she's still going to be a coffee-addict," Charlie pointed out.
"But coffee's bad for you!" Ria complained. "It has all sorts of bad things in it…drugs. I see the Muggle newspapers! I know!"
"Tea has more caffeine in it than coffee, if that's what you mean," Merri informed her. "Now eat your cake, there's a good girl," she winked, and Ria grudgingly settled down to enjoy her bun. Coffee better than tea, indeed. Whatever next!
* * * *
The sounds of an old Romanian carol being sung by a child filtered through house. Listening to it, Ria smiled. Like most of their compatriots, Esterina's family were all devout Catholics, and they took Christmas very seriously. Ria was on her way up the stairs to give the Romanian family their Christmas gifts, and invite them to tea on Boxing Day. Balancing the pile of presents in one hand, she rapped the wooden door with the other, and was greeted by Paulo, Esterina's husband.
"Hello, Paulo," she said, speaking clearly. The family understood English, but their grasp of the language wasn't so good that you could have a prolonged conversation with them. They were descended from Romany gypsies, and although Esterina flatly refused to conform to the stereotypical nomadic gypsy image, they spoke a Romani dialect peculiar to their own race. In the time that she'd been living in Romania, Ria had picked up a fair amount of Romanian, but she had yet to fully understand any form of Romani.
"Ah, Miz Ria," Paulo replied, slowly. "You be coming in, no?"
"It's okay, Paulo, I only wanted to give you these," Ria explained, offering him her load. The dark haired man smiled at her before replying.
"Come in, and ve vill gif Engleesh tea." They had never completely understood the concept of tea with milk, but Ria was not sold on the citrus variety that the Romanians advocated. A little girl appeared in front of her father.
"Pleeeeez!" four-year-old Natasha implored, gazing at Ria with large dark brown eyes fringed by long black lashes. Her chubby face was surrounded by a halo of dark curls, and Ria found it impossible to refuse her anything.
"If you're sure?"
Paulo nodded.
"My vife is vif de bebe, yes?"
"That's okay," Ria assured him.
"Ve are, how do you call it…ve are having ze guests during ze festivities?" Ria nodded, privately wondering how on earth they'd fit any more people in their flat – apart from Natasha, there was baby Elena, ten-year-old Marya and three boys, Alexei, Marcus and Jean. "It ees time for family, you understand?"
"I understand," Ria nodded again. Time for family. The words clung to her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to banish them. Time for family. Jon had said the same thing. For reasons that she couldn't understand, the Kettleworths kept popping into her head.
"Miz Ria?" Esterina appeared in the doorway. "Ees everything vell?"
"Fine, thank you," Ria assured her. "I was just thinking - that's all. How's baby Elena?"
"She ees vell, thanking you for asking."
* * * *
"Ria! Ri! Wake up!" Ria was rudely awoken from pleasant slumbers by Charlie, who was shaking her.
"Mmmph," she muttered. "Whassatime?"
"Dunno," he replied, blithely. "Bout five, six, I expect."
Ria groaned.
"Go back to bed!" she whined.
"No," he said, irreverently. "I want to talk to you." Ria contemplated hexing Charlie, but decided against it, and instead raised herself up on her pillows, slowly, glaring at her friend. Charlie smiled.
"Merry Christmas," he said, offering her a small box, carefully gift-wrapped. "It's from Bill," he explained, hastily, noticing her concerned look.
"And you felt you had to get me up at half past five in the morning to give me this because…?"
"That's not why I got you up this early. But I thought you might be more willing to keep your eyes open if I offered you something." Ria glared. It was far too early for mind games.
"Get to the point, Charles," she said, tartly.
"I want to know what's been bothering you lately," he said, simply. Ria stared at him incredulously.
"And you felt you had to get me up before the birds to do this? Honestly, Charlie, you could have waited until midday to ask me that!"
"Don't be flippant," Charlie chastised her. "There's no point in denying it. You've been in a world of your own for ages, and whatever's on your mind is upsetting you. I don't want it to ruin your Christmas. So tell me what the matter is, and maybe we can work it out."
"I forgot," Ria began, bitterly, "you're Charlie Weasley. If you can't fix it no one can. Get out of my head. I can look after myself, thank you very much!"
"No, you can't," Charlie said, calmly. Ria glared at him. "There's no point in looking at me like that, Ariadne Olivia Rutherford, because it won't do you any good. Just tell me what's bothering you. A problem shared is a problem halved, or so my mother has always said."
"Get lost, Charlie." He was right, of course. He always was – and that was what irritated her. She hated that he could read her so well – it made her feel vulnerable, and vulnerability was one thing that she couldn't afford.
"Ria," he said, softly. "Trust me."
She averted her eyes from his, suddenly scared of him. He could hurt her more than anyone could, and he knew, as she did, that she trusted him already. That was what scared her. Trust. Trust could lead to betrayal, and she wasn't sure that she could live with the knowledge that Charlie had betrayed her.
"Ri." He gently her turned her face to his so that she was forced to look into his eyes and acknowledge the noble sympathy in them.
"You don't know how lucky you are," she told him, her voice so soft it was inaudible. "You have no idea what I'd give to have the kind of security you have. A loving family. A good job. Self-worth. What have I got to live for?" Charlie hadn't been expecting that, she could tell from the shock that registered on his face.
"Us," he said, simply. "Me, Merri, Jon, your parents and your sisters, your nieces, Bill. So many people love you, Ria. Don't ever doubt that. Ever. I don't know everything that happened to you, and I'm not going to pry, but don't let the scum that did this to you get what they want. You're worth thousands of them."
Ria blinked hard, and succeeded in keeping back the tears.
"I wish you knew," she said.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?" Charlie said, squeezing her hand. "I promise you that no matter what, I won't betray you. You mean too much to me for that."
"I know," Ria agreed, softly, startled that he could read her that well. "But you have to understand, Charlie…some things hurt to talk about. Even with you…especially with you. I don't want you to pity me."
"I don't pity you, Ri. I don't want to pity you. I want to help you – you need to move away from the past and focus on the future. If that means I have to get up at the crack of dawn every morning for the next sixty years to counsel you, then so be it."
Ria grinned weakly at him.
"Charlie, would you say Christmas is a time for family?" she asked.
"Oh, definitely!" Charlie's eyes lit up. "Christmas isn't Christmas without the arguing at the Burrow – you'll have to visit us at some point to understand."
"That would involve you telling your parents about me." Secretly, Ria was dying to tell her own parents about the 'Charlie situation' as Becca called it. After the Kettleworth incident, Ria had told her elder sister of her situation. Becca had been understandably shocked that her brother-in-law's father was also related to her baby sister, but had taken the news remarkably well. Ria had told her about Charlie at the same time, and Becca had urged her to tell her parents of her living arrangements, but Ria was still not entirely sure that her father wouldn't drag her back from Romania if he heard, and she didn't want to risk that.
"I have told them," Charlie said, matter-of-factly.
"And your mum hasn't married us off?"
"Well…I told them that you existed. I didn't mention that you lived with me." Ria laughed.
"Why did you tell them?"
"Well… Mum and Dad know about Hermione – Ron's best friend - you know, and Mum hasn't actually said that Ron should marry her yet, so I kind of thought what's the harm in telling the truth?"
"Charlie, Ron and Hermione are twelve. They should not be contemplating marriage. Your mother is not so out of the loop that she wouldn't realise that."
"Well, anyway…I told her that I thought you would be suitable for Bill, and that got her off of my back." Ria laughed again. "But that's enough of me… Why did you ask about Christmas and families?"
"The Kettleworths are my family too, aren't they," Ria explained. "I think I should at least let them know that I don't hate them. I think I should visit them again – on my own this time."
"Are you sure?" Charlie looked dubious.
"We've all had time to get used to the idea of me being related. I promise that I won't kill Helena, Charlie, if that's what you're worried about."
"Good," Charlie looked at her curiously. "Is that what's been worrying you? The Kettleworths?" Ria nodded. "Well…you go and see them, and come back and then we can put the whole affair behind us. Now – what do you think Father Christmas brought everyone?" Ria rolled her eyes. How he could be so charming one minute and childish the next she would never know.
* * * *
Ria smiled as she gently set her suitcase down in the hall. Charlie had evidently been waiting up for her – or trying to. His head was cradled in his arms on the kitchen table, a mug of something in front of him. In sleep he looked oddly innocent, and for a minute Ria stood surveying him with a deep feeling of love. Not romantic love, of course – the very idea made her cringe. Romantic love was a damaging entity, at least for her. But the protective love she felt for Charlie was no less powerful. She was about to find a blanket to cover him with when he awoke.
"Guh," he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Ria! You're back!" He stood up and enveloped her in a hug.
"That's right," she agreed, quietly, somewhat subdued by her trip.
"Do you want to talk?"
"You're tired."
"Not the question I asked," Charlie looked at her again, appraisingly. "You want to talk. Don't argue. Let me get my coat, and then we can go for a walk."
"It's midnight!" Ria exclaimed, but her protests fell on deaf ears.
Ten minutes later the two of them were walking towards the dragon reserve, guided only by the light of the stars. In spite of the snow and bitter cold, the night sky was clear. The stars offered Ria inner peace such as she had rarely – if ever – experienced.
"So…?" Charlie looked at her expectantly. Ria sighed, before beginning.
"I don't know what I was expecting," she admitted. "Maybe I wanted it to be Happy Families…anyway, nothing turned out quite as I imagined. I think Helena is scared of me, to be honest."
Charlie nodded understandingly.
"It's understandable," he agreed. "She's nervous of you – you're an unknown entity, and one that's been plaguing her for more than two decades."
"That's not my fault," she replied.
"I know," Charlie agreed. "But that doesn't make realising that you aren't a baby any more easy for her."
"Andy seemed to take it better than Helena. Weird, really. Helena's always known – Andy's had to adapt. Do you know what I liked best? He didn't try to be my father. He just wanted to get to know me. Know silly things, like my favourite flavour of Every Flavoured Bean. It's bizarre – I looked at him, and in some ways I saw myself. The way he moves his hands when he talks, his sense of humour. It was like talking to myself sometimes."
"How do you feel about that?"
"I don't know," Ria replied, slowly. "I suppose it's a relief that there are other people like me out there. At the same time, its hard to reconcile myself to the whole situation."
"Have you?" Charlie looked at her sympathetically.
"I think so. The Rutherfords will always be my family, but it's nice that the Kettleworths know about me…I don't feel angry with them any more. It's like I've made peace…with myself."