Disclaimer:
I don't own "Fortysomething" or any of the mentioned characters.
Chapter 4
Keeping Mum
"Do you have any idea how to get out this alive?"
I look at Rory concerned as we are standing in front of the Slippery house. Rory looks even more worried than I do and I don't blame him. It is his life that is at stake here, for his Mum's car was his responsibility, therefore it was his fault that it got totalled and consequently he has to suffer the consequences.
"One," Rory replies, his face as white as the Cliffs of Dover. "I hope it works."
"Care to fill me in?"
"You will see."
"And what do I do?" I ask, uneasily. "I mean, I was with you on that trip and in the car. What if she comes after me?"
"No, you are pretty much out of the woods," Rory presumes. "Wiltshire, Stonehenge – that was entirely my idea. I drove the car, I parked it hillside, so I must undertake the fallout."
I swallow hard.
"Any chance in wishing you good luck?"
Rory scoffs.
"I need as much luck as possible," he says, darkly. "So go ahead."
"Good luck," I mumble.
"Thanks."
Rory exhales deeply.
"Alright …" he then drawls. "Let's go in."
I grab his arm and Rory looks at me.
"Aren't you … afraid?" I ask him.
Rory chuckles.
"No, Laura," he answers. "I am scared out of my wits."
"Fair enough," I reply, preparing myself for the bloodbath that I will have to witness in the next couple of minutes – or as soon as Rory has told his mum that she will never see her beloved car again.
I feel a huge lump growing in my throat as we enter the house and walk into the living room.
Paul is sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine, Estelle is standing at the window and turns as we enter, only Daniel and Edwin are nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, hello you two," Paul greets us, looking up, astonished. "Back so soon? Well, that's a surprise! We didn't expect you to arrive before Monday, actually. And now you are here! Two days early! How was your trip? Nice?"
"Yes, quite nice," I answer, exchanging a glance with Rory.
He looks as if he is waiting for the axe to fall – and he doesn't have to wait long.
"I didn't hear you coming," Estelle establishes. "Normally I recognize the sound of my car. Where did you park?"
Rory swallows hard, then he closes his eyes for a second, before striding determined towards Estelle.
"Rory?" she asks, confused, but he doesn't reply.
Instead he falls to his knees as he reaches her and raises his hands, pleadingly.
"Mum, I am sorry," he says, his voice shaking. "I am so, so sorry, Mum, please, don't kill me. Please."
Estelle blinks. Then she glances at me, briefly, before she looks down at Rory again.
"What do you mean, 'Don't kill me.'?" she demands.
"Please, Mum," Rory continues. "I really don't expect you to forgive me, but, Mum, and I swear I will do anything, if only you spare my life, alright?"
"I don't understand this, Rory," Estelle confesses. "Did you have a mind changing experience in Wiltshire that you are planning to take drama classes now?"
I lower my head.
"That's one way of putting it," I mutter under my breath.
Inwardly I applaud Rory for his brilliant acting skills. There are indeed hidden treasures buried inside my boyfriend. But then I suddenly realize that it is not acting at all. He is definitely scared to death.
Yes, he did mention more than once, how much Estelle loves her car and that she would be furious, if anything happened to it, but I never believed that anything as drastic as falling to his knees and begging for mercy would be necessary to save his own skin. Rory is her favourite son, after all.
"Mum, please," Rory adds, wringing his hands. "Please, I beg you …"
Estelle folds her arms before her chest.
"Stop this, Rory," she commands. "Tell me what you are talking about and, for God's sake, get up!"
Hanging his head, Rory struggles to his feet, but he doesn't dare to look at Estelle.
"I …" Rory begins, hesitantly. "I … sort of … totalled … your car …"
His voice is barely a whisper, but since it is dead calm in the room all of a sudden, everyone has heard his words.
"You what?" Estelle gasps.
"I'm sorry, Mum," Rory apologizes. "It was an accident … it was …"
"It was my fault, Estelle," I cut in, striding forward and stand beside Rory.
He looks at me flabbergast and so does Estelle.
"Alright," she says, calmly. "Elaborate."
"I accidently must have released the brake, when I was searching for my scarf in the backseat and since we had parked slightly hillside …"
I pause, biting my lips.
"I didn't tell Rory, because I thought he would get mad, but it was definitely my mistake that the car eventually rolled backwards."
"Were you still inside?" Paul asks in shock. "Either of you?"
I shake my head.
"No," I answer. "Then we could have stopped the car in time, couldn't we?"
"True," Paul admits.
"We were visiting Stonehenge and when we came out, a guy named Phil was already waiting for us and informed us about what had happened."
I lower my head.
"It is entirely my fault, Estelle," I repeat. "I'm sorry. Please, don't kill Rory. Or me … or anyone for that matter, please! I mean …"
I stop, when suddenly Phil's words spring to my mind.
"It was only an old car, wasn't it?" I blurt out.
Rory staring at me as if I had lost a marble or two, Paul is staring at me as if I had gone insane and Estelle is staring at me with an expression on her face that I cannot possibly decipher. She is so calm that it is positively scary and something tells me not to trust her apparent serenity.
There is a long silence and it is weighing heavy on my shoulders. I wish Estelle would yell at me. I wish she would slap my face. I wish she would go berserk. But she doesn't. She just keeps staring at me.
"Say something," I finally demand. "Anything. Please."
Estelle takes a deep breath.
"I guess I should have told you about the faulty brake …"
Gaping, Rory and I look at each other.
"You mean …" Rory begins, but doesn't finish the sentence.
"Yes," Estelle admits. "The brake didn't work properly anymore. That's why I never parked hillside lately. Or if I did I put a rock under the back tyre."
"The rock in the boot," Rory muses, quietly. "I always wondered what it was there for …"
"So, it wasn't even my fault that the car rolled backwards?" I ask for the avoidance of doubt.
"No, Laura, it wasn't your fault."
Estelle smiles apologetically.
"And you are right, of course," she adds with a sigh. "It was only an old car."
Rory lets out a gasp.
"But Mum!" he exclaims. "You love that car!"
Still smiling, Estelle cups Rory's face with both her hands.
"Yes, darling, but I love you more," she answers. "And I am so glad that neither of you were harmed in the accident or anyone else."
"No, no one was harmed," I reply. "Only the huge rock that the car bumped into."
"I wouldn't worry too much about that rock," Rory says, dryly. "It still looked pretty fine to me after the metal had been scraped off of it."
I bite my lip, torn between bursting out laughing and breaking down crying, but as always it is Paul, who comes up with the best solution.
"Well, then, tea anyone?" he ask, putting away his paper. "Shall I put the kettle on?"
***
We don't talk about the matter anymore. The whole afternoon passes without mentioning the car or the faulty brake as we have tea and biscuits and when Edwin, who joins us later, asks about our trip, we both find ourselves replying the same: uneventful.
It is not until much later, when we are back at Rory's place that I broach the matter again.
"I can't believe she didn't tell us," I establish as I put down my travel bag. "Why didn't she tell us, Rory?"
He shrugs.
"Beats me."
"Maybe she was afraid to admit that her car wasn't that fit for driving anymore," I muse. "Maybe she had hoped something like this might happen."
Rory frowns, sitting on his bed.
"Now, that's a little far-fetched, don't you think?"
"Yes, maybe," I admit with a sigh. "But I am glad that she didn't go mad or something."
"Me too."
Rory looks relieved.
"On our ride back home I was mentally settling my affairs already."
"I thought as much," I reply. "You were awfully quiet."
"Most of all I was worried about you," he adds. "How you would take it … and what became of you …"
"Hmmm …" I muse. "I had probably dated Daniel again …"
Rory gapes at me.
"You wouldn't."
"Naaahhh," I say with a grin. "I am so over Daniel. There are no words how over I am with him. I would have to invent a new word."
"Good to know."
Rory smiles.
"Come here for a second."
Slowly I walk over to him and slump on the bed beside him.
"What now?" I ask. "We have a whole Bank Holiday weekend before us. What are we going to do with it?"
"Actually, I can think of a thing or two …"
"Not another trip, please," I groan.
"No, I am pretty fed up with trips," Rory answers. "I was more thinking of staying in … ordering take out … watching DVDs …"
Gently, I run my fingers through his hair.
"I love you, Rory Slippery," I whisper.
"I love you, Laura Proek," he replies, leaning in and our foreheads are almost touching, when …
"Oh, I know a good film we could watch!" I destroy the romance. "'Stonehenge Apocalypse'."
Instantly, Rory backs away, scrunching up his face.
"This is so not funny, Laura!" he scolds me.
"I'm sorry," I apologize, but I cannot really hide my grin.
"I have had enough of stones for a lifetime!" Rory growls. "And rocks, for that matter."
"I was only teasing," I reply, apologetically. "There is no such film and if there was, I certainly wouldn't want to watch it."
Rory looks content again.
"That is the correct answer," he says, softly, leaning in again. "Now … where were we?"