A/N: Thank you to my eleven reviewers so far! Please read and Review this chapter, luv Kirsty x
Chapter Four
"Who do you paint? What sort of people?" [Max]
"Aliens," she answered, "with Ciara included in that bracket." She stood up and walked away, while Max just sat there staring at her with his mouth open wide. [Liz]
Gradually his mouth began to close as he realised that what she was trying to say was that Ciara was of Alien blood, wasn't she? Isabel sauntered over to her twin, showing a worried expression.
"So she told you?" She asked quietly.
"Whose is she?"
"Pardon?"
"Liz said something along the lines of that Ciara is an alien."
"That she is."
"Then whose is she?"
"She's yours Max. Ciara is your daughter." She stood up, unaccustomed to her brother's silence.
"Izzy, wait. Do you mean to tell me that Ciara has been hidden from me all this time?" He sounded angry.
Liz overheard this last part, as she was still standing close, only talking to Alex about still life. She turned around. "When I left Roswell, Maxwell, you were not the man I fell in love with. All of you were obsessed with destiny and finding your way home. The rest of you saw sense and stayed with your loved ones. Max crossed the line and left me, one day after we had slept together, not even twenty-four hours. I forgave you the first time, but after we sleep together? You are more heartless than I had thought. Do you know how hard it is telling a young girl that her father left me for some blonde bimbo straight after I had slept with him? This was your mistake, Maxwell. You caused this rift between you and your daughter. Had I not come back, you would never have known. I will see the rest of you tomorrow, goodbye Maxwell. Come on Ciara, we're off." Liz spoke in a low tone to Max the whole way through her 'speech', as if she had practiced it repeatedly.
Ciara picked up her can and followed her mother through the garden gate at the side of the house, but not before waving goodbye to everyone before she left. She had a tear in her eye, one that was there pointedly for Max Evans.
The next day, Liz and Ciara spent their entire day sorting out the paintings at the gallery. Some were bright and cheerful; others were dark and depressing. All expressed Liz's moods at certain points in time. Not all of them were of Max's deception.
Liz spent two years travelling around looking for placed to live with a newly born Ciara. Named after nobody, the announcements of her birth were sent to few people. Maria received a long letter, as did Alex. Her parents had many a letter each in those two years and money was sent to keep Liz and her young child on their feet. After twenty-seven months, Liz found a small flat in the city of Glasgow, where they were all unaware of destinies and alien planets. There she found a part time job in a crèche, where she also kept Ciara for certain hours every day.
As Ciara progressed into nursery and primary school, Liz began to have more hours of spare time. One day, moping around an art gallery, she caught an artist doing a live show and watched him paint. He had several blank sheets of paper in a pile at his feet with some more artistic materials, so that the tourists could have a shot too. On impulse, Liz picked up a board and began to work in pencil portraying the woman that sat in front of the artist. While she drew, she had not noticed the artist finish and notice her working away. He circled her slowly and watched her draw. It took her just under an hour, but Liz had not noticed the time going and people milling around her. She stopped and signed her name 'Beth Parker', for a change, at the bottom.
She stood up slowly, and for the first time, noticed she was being watched. Not by the artist, but by many other tourists, who were gazing and gasping at her picture as if it were a real piece of art. Liz had never really concentrated on anything in life after having Ciara, only Ciara herself. She turned around and asked the artist if there was anywhere she could wash her hands. The man smiled at her and started to clap. Her eyes screwed up in confusion. The whole crowd around her started clapping, their eyes creased and looking straight at her. Liz did what anyone could do in that position. She picked up her bad, curtsied and walked away, and out onto the street.
The artist followed, stood in front of her and introduced himself. He said his name was Alexander Clarke and asked if would she like to go for coffee. Liz looked at her watch, noticing she still had three hours until she had to pick up Ciara, and nodded graciously. They made their way to 'Pret A Manger' on Sauchihall Street in the centre of Glasgow, near Buchanan Galleries. They sat at the window and talked for two hours like old friends. At half past two, they were still chatting away.
"So, Beth Parker, what brings an artist like you to Scotland?" He asked.
"I'm no artist."
"You have to be. Even I'm not that good."
"You were excellent, but I've never really drawn before. It was a choice of either Art or Biology."
"I'm guessing you chose Biology then."
"Yeah. Though I don't think I will become a molecular biologist after all."
"From what I just saw, I think art might be a safer bet."
"So, how long have you been studying art?" He only looked about twenty- eight, but Liz gathered he had been in University for at least three years.
"How did you know I study it?"
"The books that lay beside your chair in the gallery."
"Ah, that's a good clue. I have been studying postgraduate at Glasgow School of Art. "
Liz nodded in understanding. "Now, there is a place I have heard of."
"That's good. Because I'm taking you and your picture there this afternoon." He said after a long while of thought.
"I can't this afternoon." The young man looked gutted.
"A previous engagement?" He wondered.
"Yes. I have to pick up my daughter from primary school."
"How old is she?" He asked politely, quietly getting over the shock that this gorgeous woman had a child.
"Nine. Ten this November."
"Primary five then?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you I had a daughter," she replied, unwillingly guilty for not telling this man she had a child. She did not know why she felt this way, but it felt right.
"It's none of my business," he replied, but curiosity got the better of him, "So where is the father?" Liz smiled warmly.
"Probably still in America with his blonde bombshell girlfriend." She said in her half-aquatinted Glasweigan accent.
"If you don't like her, call her a blonde bimbo." He smiled. "So what happened? I hate to pry, but I have no idea why a man could leave a beautiful woman such as yourself alone with a child!"
"He doesn't know about Ciara. He dumped me a day after we slept together." Alexander's eyes screwed up with disgust.
"You loved him?"
"Yes. But I was young. He's no longer part of my life anymore."
"Glass half full?"
"Always."
"So, how do you feel about coming to pick up Ciara from school with me?"
"Maybe some other time, I have to get back to the gallery to clear up."
"Is this a brush off?" Liz asked. Her shy self back in Roswell would have never plucked up the courage to say such a thing to any man.
"No. But this is my phone number." He picked a pen with a silver rim from the inside of his jacket pocket and wrote in black ink, 'Alexander Clarke, 0181 2342 343' [A/N: This is not a real number. It is made up.]. Before he could put it into his pocket, Liz grabbed it.
"If you never call me, this is a deposit. You will get it back when I next see you." It was obviously a favourite pen.
"How about Friday?" He asked.
"I'll have to find a babysitter for Ciara."
"I have connections. My sister could look after her, she's really good with kids."
"But I don't know her." Liz replied, slightly worried.
"You will soon enough. I'll call you tonight." He said as he picked up his books, kissed her on the cheek and left the café.
Sure enough, he called her that night. In the weeks after, he had her enrolled into the school as a special student. Seven years later, she was a fully-fledged artist; and they got engaged three months before Liz left for Roswell. She did not want to leave Alexander behind, but he would come in a fortnight's time to join her. It was his and Ciara's little secret. Liz, or Beth as she liked to be called now, just did not know it yet.
Liz looked back over her memories in her mind with a little smile on her face until she saw Isabel walking up behind her in the window reflection.
"What do you want Isabel?" She asked the refection as she turned round to face the blonde girl.
"I just wanted to say that I think you struck a chord in Max last night. I think he's finally realised what a prick he can be, so thank you." She smiled and the two adults laughed.
"Is Alexander coming over?"
"Your Alex or mine?" Isabel laughed before saying that she was talking about Alex Clarke.
"Soon maybe." Beth answered.
Ciara walked up beside them. Actually, he's arriving next weekend, if you last that long. I was supposed to be a secret, but I thought you needed some cheering up. Your encounter with my father was not very good last night. I just hope Dad will be welcome as much as we are." At that moment, her mobile phone rang. Remembering she was in a gallery, Liz took the phone call, not before seeing the called-ID and seeing it was Alexander. Telling Ciara and Isabel, she left them to run outside.
"Hey baby, how are you holding up?" He asked her. " And put down those fags." He commanded, knowing that at that very moment she was feeling around in her jean's pocket for her packet.
"I went mad at 'the bas' last night. Really mad. And then stalked out."
"That's my girl." He replied laughing. "Did he look shocked?"
"Yes, and it felt really good to get it out of my system."
"I told you it would. Look, this is just a short call. I'm sure Ciara has told you that I'm coming up next weekend, but there's been a change of plan."
"You mean you can't make it?"
"No. I mean I'm in Roswell airport right now, and was wondering if you would come and pick me up." Liz almost cried with happiness.
"I'll be there in ten minutes." She was smiling with her words, Alexander could tell.
"Where's my little Ciara?"
"You mean seventeen year old Ciara? She is with her auntie Isabel, remember her?"
"Yeah, married to Alex, right? I'll see you in ten, love you!"
"Love you too." She replied lovingly and turned back towards the building. Max stood at the entrance. "I don't have time for you right now."
"Liz, please, just listen to me." He blocked the entrance.
"No. I have to go and pick up my fiancé." Max's eyes misted up and he stalked away, somber. Liz thought this strange as he had easily dumped her for Tess. Nothing had really changed between them, except Ciara, but he didn't find out until the day before. He couldn't come up with so much compassion for the girl in twenty four hours. He sure didn't for her.
"Isabel, can you look after Ciara, Alexander's at the airport."
"Dad's at Roswell airport?" asked Ciara, confused.
"Yes."
"Can I come?"
"Stay with me, Ciara, let your mum see him alone."
"Okay. But bring him straight here okay?" she asked, having not seen her second most favourite person, after her mum, in over two weeks.
"Of course." As Liz turned away, Isabel felt her siblings pain shoot through her. It was a sign that came with being twins, not aliens. She could feel his pain if he was truly focussed on it. Isabel shook it away, considering the fact that, as Liz had said and she agreed, Max had no one else but him self to blame.
TBC...
Chapter Four
"Who do you paint? What sort of people?" [Max]
"Aliens," she answered, "with Ciara included in that bracket." She stood up and walked away, while Max just sat there staring at her with his mouth open wide. [Liz]
Gradually his mouth began to close as he realised that what she was trying to say was that Ciara was of Alien blood, wasn't she? Isabel sauntered over to her twin, showing a worried expression.
"So she told you?" She asked quietly.
"Whose is she?"
"Pardon?"
"Liz said something along the lines of that Ciara is an alien."
"That she is."
"Then whose is she?"
"She's yours Max. Ciara is your daughter." She stood up, unaccustomed to her brother's silence.
"Izzy, wait. Do you mean to tell me that Ciara has been hidden from me all this time?" He sounded angry.
Liz overheard this last part, as she was still standing close, only talking to Alex about still life. She turned around. "When I left Roswell, Maxwell, you were not the man I fell in love with. All of you were obsessed with destiny and finding your way home. The rest of you saw sense and stayed with your loved ones. Max crossed the line and left me, one day after we had slept together, not even twenty-four hours. I forgave you the first time, but after we sleep together? You are more heartless than I had thought. Do you know how hard it is telling a young girl that her father left me for some blonde bimbo straight after I had slept with him? This was your mistake, Maxwell. You caused this rift between you and your daughter. Had I not come back, you would never have known. I will see the rest of you tomorrow, goodbye Maxwell. Come on Ciara, we're off." Liz spoke in a low tone to Max the whole way through her 'speech', as if she had practiced it repeatedly.
Ciara picked up her can and followed her mother through the garden gate at the side of the house, but not before waving goodbye to everyone before she left. She had a tear in her eye, one that was there pointedly for Max Evans.
The next day, Liz and Ciara spent their entire day sorting out the paintings at the gallery. Some were bright and cheerful; others were dark and depressing. All expressed Liz's moods at certain points in time. Not all of them were of Max's deception.
Liz spent two years travelling around looking for placed to live with a newly born Ciara. Named after nobody, the announcements of her birth were sent to few people. Maria received a long letter, as did Alex. Her parents had many a letter each in those two years and money was sent to keep Liz and her young child on their feet. After twenty-seven months, Liz found a small flat in the city of Glasgow, where they were all unaware of destinies and alien planets. There she found a part time job in a crèche, where she also kept Ciara for certain hours every day.
As Ciara progressed into nursery and primary school, Liz began to have more hours of spare time. One day, moping around an art gallery, she caught an artist doing a live show and watched him paint. He had several blank sheets of paper in a pile at his feet with some more artistic materials, so that the tourists could have a shot too. On impulse, Liz picked up a board and began to work in pencil portraying the woman that sat in front of the artist. While she drew, she had not noticed the artist finish and notice her working away. He circled her slowly and watched her draw. It took her just under an hour, but Liz had not noticed the time going and people milling around her. She stopped and signed her name 'Beth Parker', for a change, at the bottom.
She stood up slowly, and for the first time, noticed she was being watched. Not by the artist, but by many other tourists, who were gazing and gasping at her picture as if it were a real piece of art. Liz had never really concentrated on anything in life after having Ciara, only Ciara herself. She turned around and asked the artist if there was anywhere she could wash her hands. The man smiled at her and started to clap. Her eyes screwed up in confusion. The whole crowd around her started clapping, their eyes creased and looking straight at her. Liz did what anyone could do in that position. She picked up her bad, curtsied and walked away, and out onto the street.
The artist followed, stood in front of her and introduced himself. He said his name was Alexander Clarke and asked if would she like to go for coffee. Liz looked at her watch, noticing she still had three hours until she had to pick up Ciara, and nodded graciously. They made their way to 'Pret A Manger' on Sauchihall Street in the centre of Glasgow, near Buchanan Galleries. They sat at the window and talked for two hours like old friends. At half past two, they were still chatting away.
"So, Beth Parker, what brings an artist like you to Scotland?" He asked.
"I'm no artist."
"You have to be. Even I'm not that good."
"You were excellent, but I've never really drawn before. It was a choice of either Art or Biology."
"I'm guessing you chose Biology then."
"Yeah. Though I don't think I will become a molecular biologist after all."
"From what I just saw, I think art might be a safer bet."
"So, how long have you been studying art?" He only looked about twenty- eight, but Liz gathered he had been in University for at least three years.
"How did you know I study it?"
"The books that lay beside your chair in the gallery."
"Ah, that's a good clue. I have been studying postgraduate at Glasgow School of Art. "
Liz nodded in understanding. "Now, there is a place I have heard of."
"That's good. Because I'm taking you and your picture there this afternoon." He said after a long while of thought.
"I can't this afternoon." The young man looked gutted.
"A previous engagement?" He wondered.
"Yes. I have to pick up my daughter from primary school."
"How old is she?" He asked politely, quietly getting over the shock that this gorgeous woman had a child.
"Nine. Ten this November."
"Primary five then?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, I should have told you I had a daughter," she replied, unwillingly guilty for not telling this man she had a child. She did not know why she felt this way, but it felt right.
"It's none of my business," he replied, but curiosity got the better of him, "So where is the father?" Liz smiled warmly.
"Probably still in America with his blonde bombshell girlfriend." She said in her half-aquatinted Glasweigan accent.
"If you don't like her, call her a blonde bimbo." He smiled. "So what happened? I hate to pry, but I have no idea why a man could leave a beautiful woman such as yourself alone with a child!"
"He doesn't know about Ciara. He dumped me a day after we slept together." Alexander's eyes screwed up with disgust.
"You loved him?"
"Yes. But I was young. He's no longer part of my life anymore."
"Glass half full?"
"Always."
"So, how do you feel about coming to pick up Ciara from school with me?"
"Maybe some other time, I have to get back to the gallery to clear up."
"Is this a brush off?" Liz asked. Her shy self back in Roswell would have never plucked up the courage to say such a thing to any man.
"No. But this is my phone number." He picked a pen with a silver rim from the inside of his jacket pocket and wrote in black ink, 'Alexander Clarke, 0181 2342 343' [A/N: This is not a real number. It is made up.]. Before he could put it into his pocket, Liz grabbed it.
"If you never call me, this is a deposit. You will get it back when I next see you." It was obviously a favourite pen.
"How about Friday?" He asked.
"I'll have to find a babysitter for Ciara."
"I have connections. My sister could look after her, she's really good with kids."
"But I don't know her." Liz replied, slightly worried.
"You will soon enough. I'll call you tonight." He said as he picked up his books, kissed her on the cheek and left the café.
Sure enough, he called her that night. In the weeks after, he had her enrolled into the school as a special student. Seven years later, she was a fully-fledged artist; and they got engaged three months before Liz left for Roswell. She did not want to leave Alexander behind, but he would come in a fortnight's time to join her. It was his and Ciara's little secret. Liz, or Beth as she liked to be called now, just did not know it yet.
Liz looked back over her memories in her mind with a little smile on her face until she saw Isabel walking up behind her in the window reflection.
"What do you want Isabel?" She asked the refection as she turned round to face the blonde girl.
"I just wanted to say that I think you struck a chord in Max last night. I think he's finally realised what a prick he can be, so thank you." She smiled and the two adults laughed.
"Is Alexander coming over?"
"Your Alex or mine?" Isabel laughed before saying that she was talking about Alex Clarke.
"Soon maybe." Beth answered.
Ciara walked up beside them. Actually, he's arriving next weekend, if you last that long. I was supposed to be a secret, but I thought you needed some cheering up. Your encounter with my father was not very good last night. I just hope Dad will be welcome as much as we are." At that moment, her mobile phone rang. Remembering she was in a gallery, Liz took the phone call, not before seeing the called-ID and seeing it was Alexander. Telling Ciara and Isabel, she left them to run outside.
"Hey baby, how are you holding up?" He asked her. " And put down those fags." He commanded, knowing that at that very moment she was feeling around in her jean's pocket for her packet.
"I went mad at 'the bas' last night. Really mad. And then stalked out."
"That's my girl." He replied laughing. "Did he look shocked?"
"Yes, and it felt really good to get it out of my system."
"I told you it would. Look, this is just a short call. I'm sure Ciara has told you that I'm coming up next weekend, but there's been a change of plan."
"You mean you can't make it?"
"No. I mean I'm in Roswell airport right now, and was wondering if you would come and pick me up." Liz almost cried with happiness.
"I'll be there in ten minutes." She was smiling with her words, Alexander could tell.
"Where's my little Ciara?"
"You mean seventeen year old Ciara? She is with her auntie Isabel, remember her?"
"Yeah, married to Alex, right? I'll see you in ten, love you!"
"Love you too." She replied lovingly and turned back towards the building. Max stood at the entrance. "I don't have time for you right now."
"Liz, please, just listen to me." He blocked the entrance.
"No. I have to go and pick up my fiancé." Max's eyes misted up and he stalked away, somber. Liz thought this strange as he had easily dumped her for Tess. Nothing had really changed between them, except Ciara, but he didn't find out until the day before. He couldn't come up with so much compassion for the girl in twenty four hours. He sure didn't for her.
"Isabel, can you look after Ciara, Alexander's at the airport."
"Dad's at Roswell airport?" asked Ciara, confused.
"Yes."
"Can I come?"
"Stay with me, Ciara, let your mum see him alone."
"Okay. But bring him straight here okay?" she asked, having not seen her second most favourite person, after her mum, in over two weeks.
"Of course." As Liz turned away, Isabel felt her siblings pain shoot through her. It was a sign that came with being twins, not aliens. She could feel his pain if he was truly focussed on it. Isabel shook it away, considering the fact that, as Liz had said and she agreed, Max had no one else but him self to blame.
TBC...