Next chapter is here. Woohoo! Now, this one may seem a little boring but I am craftily sowing little seeds for what will blossom later on. Hey, that's quite poetic. A few previews; for all you Tristan/Gaston fans (such as TrudiRose!) he will reappear in a few chapters time (obviously!), for all you Bastian fans, the next chapter is prob gonna be at least partly from his POV, and for all you lovers of fluffiness, there's going to be fluff a-plenty soon cos I am sick of doom and gloom in this story! Onwards…
Disclaimer:- Basic plot-property of Disney. Words and waffle- property of me!
Bella felt the warm water engulf her body and gasped in delight. It felt so good; almost like life itself was wetting her hair and soaking into her arms and legs. Bastian had rummaged around in the gloomiest basement she had ever seen and located the boiler. Now the house was aglow with central heating and Bella was sure she had never felt warmer.
When she had asked him if she could finally have a hot bath, he'd looked puzzled. Apparently, he'd never felt the need for any other kind of bath or shower than cold ones. Nonetheless, he'd nodded and promised to find something for her to wear once she was clean. As soon as Bella had felt the cold lift, she'd practically sprinted upstairs into the bathroom and this is where she'd been for the last three-quarters of an hour, lost in a sea of bubbles.
Thanks to Audrey Potter's efforts, the bathroom was gleaming; every surface shone like the sun. It was almost as if she was a guest in some expensive hotel. The only things missing were a Jacuzzi and monogrammed towels.
In sparkling sanitary heaven, Bella reflected on the events that day. After the somewhat awkward conversation that morning, Bastian had offered to show her round the house seeing as they'd established that she would be staying for a while, and so this is what they had done. They'd started downstairs in the east wing where he had shown her lots of little rooms that had been very similar but with slightly different names; the drawing room, the parlour, the living room. Most of them were filled with cluttered-up furniture. Bastian had commented that a lot of the rooms had never been used as far as he was aware, other than for storage. The house had perhaps been a bit too large for a family of three and a few servants. These first rooms were rushed through, having nothing of interest to keep them long. But to Bella, each doorway they stepped through was a path to another piece of the puzzle that was Bastian, no matter how apparently mundane.
It was when they had crossed the foyer that he suddenly seemed to come to life, as if possessed by an earlier version of himself. This area was where his family had made their home, and in each room, he would animatedly describe how the room had looked when people had been there. Occasionally, he would recite tender anecdotes about a Christmas party when he was very little or a family game of cards when they would sit around the coffee table and bet with the contents of the copper jar. As he reminisced, the scenes seemed to play before him as if they were home movies etched onto his pupils for eternity. Bella noticed the sadness in his laughter, the tears unshed on his eyes, and her heart wrenched with pity for him. The whole experience was achingly familiar to her as she recalled how empty her house had been after her mothers untimely demise, and how the rooms had seemed to echo with the painful sound of silence and words unspoken. Her mother's illness and death had been expected though. She couldn't even begin to imagine how it would have felt to have had your parents suddenly ripped away from you as Bastian's were; the pain, the agony of never knowing, the endless questions. Bella fought to stop a single tear from spoiling her cheek.
Before long, they arrived at what appeared to be the limits of the westernmost part of the house, and Bella turned to go back to the hallway, but he stopped her.
"Wait! There's more."
She came back, her eyebrows raised in bewilderment for all she could see was a dead end.
"My father's private rooms. I hid and watched him once, so I know how to get in. I've never forgotten."
He started to feel the walls, his fingers tracing the grain of the wood until he found what he was looking for.
"There it is! Feel the wood just here."
Bella did as she was told, and was surprised to find a small part of the wall that was slightly raised above the rest.
"Press it."
She did, and her hand followed the wall as it creaked open. She gasped in amazement.
"Cool, huh? My father installed it thinking that we wouldn't be able to disturb him. He spent most of his time in here. I've only been in here a few times since…Well, anyway, do you want to go in?"
His emerald-blue eyes glinted with a hint of mischief as he went into the room and gestured to her to follow. Bella started after him, but something caused her to glance behind her. For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn she had seen the vague figure of a man watching them, but one blink and he was gone.
………………………………………………………………………………….
Inside the room, the air smelt musty; the pleasant sort of mustiness one finds in old books or medieval castles. A thin sliver of window let in a tiny amount of light. Bastian flicked a switch and the rest of the darkness was suddenly penetrated with the glow of several old-fashioned lamps dotted all about the place. Bella could see a desk piled high with yellowing papers, a wooden chair and shelves upon shelves of files and folders. Cobwebs hung from every available nook. Although the general impression of the place was one of snug cosiness, something troubled Bella about it. A feeling, an instinct; nothing more, but a negative one. I suppose you could say it gave her the creeps; everything left the way it probably had been for a decade and no-one to come back to it, like some sombre museum exhibit with no curator. She found herself shivering again, despite the warmth that now came from the radiators.
"My father would spend hours in here, sometimes days, but he'd never tell us what he was doing. When I asked, he used to tap the side of his nose with his finger, like this"…he showed her…."and wink. I used to laugh, and then forget what I asked him. He preferred it that way,"
"What did he do? I mean…for a job?"
Bastian shrugged.
"I don't know really. He brought people here with him sometimes; associates, but I was never allowed to speak to them. There was one man who was here quite a lot. He'd bring his kids; a boy and a girl. I can't remember their names now. We'd play together, you know, games and that."
He paused as if in contemplation.
"Come to think of it, they were the closest things to friends I ever had. I haven't seen them, well anyone really, since it happened. People just stayed away."
He seemed to get self-conscious as that moment, because he started making small and fidgety movements; scratching his nose, shifting from foot to foot and once again, staring at the floor.
"Bastian?" started Bella, and she reached out to him, but he flinched.
"It's fine…really. Shall we go somewhere else?"
And he had walked out of the door, without waiting for a response.
………………………………………………………………………………...
Now, some hours later, Bella recalled how the rest of the tour had been very quick; no more anecdotes, no reminisces. Bastian had seemed distracted and had behaved as if the laughter that morning had never happened. After a few more rooms, he had asked her if she wanted something to eat, as it was nearing lunchtime, and she had nodded, thinking that they could sit together, maybe outside, seeing as the weather had brightened up, but that had not been the case. He'd made her lunch, tomato soup and crusty bread, but then when she'd asked him to join her, he'd shaken his head, staying that he never normally had lunch, and that he was going upstairs, so that's where he'd be if she needed him.
Bella had eaten her lunch listening to slight thudding and grunting noises above her. She guessed he was exercising or something similar. After all, he hadn't got a body like that from sitting around. She suddenly found herself blushing at the memory. She'd spent the remainder of the day thumbing through some books from the small library at the house. There had been all her favourites: Pride and Prejudice, Rebecca, Jane Ayre, and a beautiful big book of fairy tales which she had become lost in, having always wanted one herself. She adored fairy tales, just as she adored fantasy films, because they made her think of a world other than her own; a world where princes fought for the hands of young maidens, where enchanted creatures were everywhere to be seen, and where true love triumphed over all obstacles. She always secretly hoped that one day she'd experience her own fairy tale, perhaps with herself as the brilliant heroine who releases a beast from a curse. After all, Beauty and the Beast was one of her favourites.
And, now here she was, enjoying her bath and thinking of ways to bring out the side of Bastian she saw in his eyes; the side he seemed wary of showing her, and she had come up with a plan that couldn't fail.
Yay! A few things: British alert! A 'copper jar' is not a jar full of policemen, oh no, it is a jar you put your change in, like pennies or cents, the stuff that clutters up your purse or wallet, and keep for a rainy day, where you go down that bank and annoy the cashier by saying you want to exchange $/£50 in change for notes. Just thought I'd clarify that cos I'm not sure what the American term would be for it. Not that it matters whatsoever, but there you go!
…"big book of fairy-tales."…this is inspired by my favourite 21st birthday present, which was annotated Grimms fairy tales with pretty pictures and everything! It's sooooooo good, if a little macabre in some places lol.
Oh, and I brought a gorgeous set of Beauty and the Beast lithographs off ebay! Now if I could just find somewhere to hang them next to my boyfriends posters of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre….
If you skipped that bit, which was quite likely, here are some words to you, my ever-wonderful (and patient) readers and reviewers;
TrudiRose- Thanks for all your words of encouragement. i'm so glad you don't think I'm cheesy cos thats what i frequently worry about. If I wrote this story the way my fluff-loving head wants me too, it would be insanely cheesy! Oh, and can i just say, how devastated I am that As The Twig Is Bent has finished!
Bellamegs- Hi, first of all, is your real name actually Bella? Cos I just realised that if it is, that this story could be about you! (if you spent your time hanging out with a fit loner in a house in the woods!) The 'I walked into a door' bit had to be done, i love stupid humour like that, and the awkward chit-chat, i mean surely everyone has been in that situation where you really like a guy, and want to talk to him, but all you can talk about is mundane crap. I always say that if i ever start talking about the weather with people,anyrelationship we haveis doomed!
beautygirl- Yeah i think we needed some light-heartedness in that chapter. The last tihng I want to do is depress people! And yes I do believe they may be developing feelings for eachother...Awwwwwwwwwwwwww!
LumBabsFan- Glad you liked it! And like I said before, there prob will be cheesiness later, cos I mean you have to have a little bit when you're writing about luuuuuuuurve. Don't worry I'm not just gonna chuck in Lumiere for the hell of it, that would really confuse things, but if he wants to make an appearance (and Babette) i'm sure he'll find a way. After all, he's Lumiere, he's a smooth talker.
basketballplayer:- First of all, thanks for reviewing, always nice to see new faces (or see new words!) I'm not sure what you mean about the boy and his mother? Do u mean Mrs Potter? And also I don't really see why town is better than village, I live in a village, we could have scary looking manors in the forest nearby, we could...but we don't, but there you go. I agree that with more time spent it could be wonderful, don't worry, i'm very aware that this is nowhere near perfect!
And finally, Aladailey, A.M and Rosakara- Thanks for your great reviews and your time taken to read my little ol' story!
