Whilst Morris' heart was failing him, breaking even, his daughter's was growing fonder of her strange companion, however much she might not wish to acknowledge it. Bella was enjoying Bastian's company and his new-found confidence more with every passing hour. From dawn 'til dusk they would walk around the grounds of the house or play board games or watch movie after movie or whatever the day called for.
Once, when it rained so hard and the skies were black, they found themselves on a large yet cosy sofa sipping hot chocolate (Bastian made great hot chocolate) and Bastian listened intently while Bella told him stories of her childhood in the city and her father's numerous inventing adventures. She spoke of her mother and of the long illness that swept her away, how her father could no longer bear to live in a house where the scent of her mother followed them around wherever they went, how they'd finally moved to the country and had fallen in love with the pleasant little place that was neither town nor village. She regaled him with anecdotes of the people who lived there and their peculiar ways, laughing especially ad when she told him about Tristan, Luc and the girls who followed them around like disorientated sheep. She thought she saw his eyebrows raise when she mentioned Tristan's name so she was quick to reassure him that she was not interested in him. Bastian shrugged it off, like he did so many things, including when she tried to ask him about his parent's murder. She didn't pressure him though; he would tell her when he was ready. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was upset him. Occasionally she felt a tingle up and down her spine when she looked into his eyes or when he smiled, but she dismissed such silly things quickly before she had time to think about them.
At night-time when the house lay still and the moon shone through her window and made shapes like spirits on her blankets, she found herself thinking about him and wondering if he was thinking about her. Then she would laugh top herself unconvincingly and will herself to sleep before he took over her consciousness so much that she dreamed of him.
He also lay awake at night-though not by choice. He would have given anything to dream of her but it did not happen. Instead he dreamed of screams and shattered glass. It was all that could fill his head without her when darkness reigned and her face shining like the sun was denied him. He'd learnt long ago that his sound would not let him rest while his parent's murderer was not known to him. He was glad for the brief moments when he was allowed to forget, but he craved more. He longed to smell her on his skin and feel her lips on his but he knew he would never know the bliss of her love, of anyone's love, while he was haunted constantly by the memories of his parents unsolved death.
He could forget though.
One morning, when Bella was in the shower and Audrey Potter was present and about to embark on her now daily cleaning mission, he asked her how he could make a woman love him.
She had looked at him through amber-rimmed spectacles and chuckled to herself. She found the change in the young master astonishing to behold but was glad that he still retained some of the insecurity and vulnerability that made him special. She put down her dustpan and beckoned him to a chair.
"Bastian, you cannot make a woman love you. Love cannot be forced. Instead it should be tended and nurtured until it blooms. You cannot find it where it does not want to be found"
He looked disheartened like a part of his world had crumbled. Audrey smiled, making her eyes sparkle despite their age.
"However, in your case, it is not lost. The young lady feels for you, though she may be denying it to herself."
"How do you know?"
"I don't know how I know exactly. Call it intuition, or life experience, whatever you will. I cannot say if she truly returns the strong feelings you have for her, or even knows they exist, but…she smiles when you smile, she laughs when you laugh, and perhaps most tellingly of all, she stays although she needn't stay."
She took his hand in hers.
"Bastian, you are a wonderful young man. If you want her to love you, then all you can be is yourself. If it's to be, then she will see not only with her eyes but with her heart."
Audrey laughed.
"Listen to me! I sound like the silly old romantic that I am."
Bastian cracked a grin.
"No, Mrs. Potter. You sound like the grandmother I never had."
"Cheeky! I'm not that old you know!"
Her smile grew misty.
"You have so much of your father in you…"
There was a painful silence as Bastian battled with the feelings of despair that had once again seized his mind.
"Alright here's what you do" said Audrey, a little over cheerfully. "You can't force love but you can…er…help it along a bit. It's just a case of getting everything just right."
Like a conspirator in the world's greatest plot, she leant in and shared her ideas.
…………………………………………………………………………………...
Bella looked at the two dresses laid out in front of her on the bed, not really seeing either of them. It had been twenty minutes since Audrey had come bustling into the room and chattered away like a cricket before hurling the dresses onto the bed and making an equally as abrupt exit. Bella had caught just enough words to understand that she was apparently having dinner with Bastian at 8pm and that she was to dress nicely for the occasion.
At first she had been confused as to the fuss Audrey had made over a simple dinner. She'd eaten dinner with Bastian the previous night-carefully ordered Chinese take-away eaten whilst watching The Princess Bride-but then she realised that this was to be no ordinary dinner. She'd seen enough movies and read enough bad romance novels to know that this was most likely some sort of 'date'. A date…with Bastian.
It was this concept that had made her stare through the dresses for the past half hour. Part of her (the sensible and practical part that she been ignoring far too much lately) was thinking of a polite way to decline without causing upset but the other part she liked better was experiencing that amazing mixture of feelings that come before an important occasion such as this one-the contradictory waves of excitement and apprehension that was commonly known as butterflies in the stomach.
She stroked the hem of one of the dresses with her finger. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen…but surely it was far too formal and glamorous for a dinner-date? It looked like it was made of silk and dipped in molten sunshine.
The other dress was not as stunning but far better suited to her needs. It was midnight black lace embroidered with deep red roses that she knew would compliment the slight copper tones in her hair and was strapless with a split up the left side. Far more contemporary that the other dress while retaining a degree of elegance and class. If she did join Bastian tonight, it would be in this dress.
She laughed to herself when she saw that Audrey had also left delicate matching shoes and what looked like a make-up case. She had obviously gone to a lot of trouble. She wouldn't be surprised if she was in the kitchen right now cooking the dinner as well.
Breathing a sigh that sounded like 'okay you win' and that was addressed to no-one in particular, Bella sat down at the mirror and started to brush her hair with trembling fingers.
………………………………………………………………………………...
On the other side of the house, Bastian paced back and forth refusing to put on the suit Mrs. Potter had suggested. She was standing in front of the door with her arms folded and her foot tapping irritatingly on the floor. Bastian paused, looked at the suit and then started pacing again.
"I'll look ridiculous!" he blasted suddenly. "I'm having dinner not accepting a bloody Oscar!"
"Sebastian Thomas Beauvais, will you calm down? You're getting yourself worked up over nothing!"
He was in her face in an instant.
"Don't call me that! You sound too much like my father!"
But Audrey was not in the mood to have Bastian threaten her. She knew just how to handle his rages. She stood her ground, hardly flinching as his eyes bore into hers before softening as he walked away.
"I'm sorry" he mumbled as he slumped himself into a chair. "Maybe this is a bad idea…no, it IS a bad idea. I don't know how to behave on a…" he swallowed hard. "…date."
"You shouldn't think of like that. You're just doing the same thing you've done every day with Bella, just with added wine, candles and nice clothes. It's not really that big a deal. Like I said before, just be yourself."
He started thoughtfully at the wall.
"I'm not being myself in that penguin suit."
Audrey threw up her hands in mock exasperation.
"Fine! Just…wear a shirt…"
She turned to leave the room.
"…and get rid of the beard. You look like you belong in ZZ Top."
And with that she shut the door and hurried to the kitchen for, as Bella predicted, she was indeed the chef for the evening.
Bastian started at the door with his mouth hanging open like a codfish. ZZ Top? ZZ Top! He'd show her! He went to the sink and grabbed a razor before realising he didn't actually know how to shave…
Ok everyone! This was meant to be the ballroom scene. However, as you can see, I went a bit mad with the build-up! You're gonna have to wait a bit longer for the next chapter I'm afraid because I have revision to do that I accidentally forgot to start, so it must take priority unfortunately! The next chapter will hopefully be up sometime next week. Thank you for your patience and continued interest. (This has been a party political broadcast on behalf of the British Pygmy Party….sorry moment of temporary insanity.) Happy reading!
