Hey guy! I'm sorry for not posting sooner but my computer had a spastic moment and my original file was deleted! So I had to start from scratch and to make it worse I was bombarded with homework. Thankfully I have holidays so I can continue.
In the next chapter I'll try and incorporate more scenes between the two main characters (I know this one is fairly tame) but i'm trying to ease them both into the story. If you have any idea I could add or even change, PLEASE review
Anyway, I tried to make this chapter slightly longer as I realised how short the other ones were. So could you guys please review? They all mean a lot to me and even if there are some ideas that you want me to consider,change or even if they are just random thoughts, I'll take them! please review!
Sleep hadn't visited Atticus that night. He has tossed and turned, punched his pillow, sleepily gulped a drink of water and shuffled to the toilet yet he hadn't received a wink of sleep. All night he had been plagued by intense hazel eyes. When realised (at three o'clock) that he was fighting a losing battle, Atticus lumbered over to his desk and immersed himself in his trial.
Atticus groggily raised his head and winced at the pain in his neck. He shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to stretch his back muscles. The rest of the night he had spent pouring over the case notes and preparing yet in the process he had fallen asleep. Atticus absent-mindedly shuffled some papers together and hunted for his pen. Suddenly, a movement caught his eye. From the living room window another movement startled Atticus. He fumbled with his glasses and finally slid them over the bump in his nose. From the living room window, Atticus had a clear view into Miss. Maudie's. Previously, Atticus had glossed over this issue, yet today was different. Atticus silently rose from the chair and tread over to the window. He winced at the creaking floorboards and peered out of his window. There it was again, that abrupt flash of red. It took Atticus a few moments to realise that it was the woman.
Atticus stilled and eagerly waited for her to appear again so his assumptions could be confirmed. There she was, gracing Atticus' vision with her presence, her chocolate hair was flowing lose down her slim back and she pulled those long, golden fingers through it, in an attempt to comb out the knots. Her back was to him and began to undertake some mundane tasks around the room. Dusting shelves, setting aside flower vases and organising the numerous piles of books, spaces at odd intervals around the room.
That brought Atticus to the room. It wasn't furnished, glossed of even painted. The walls were a sallow yellow and peeling at intervals, the wood was dry and brittle and looked as if it was about to give way. The furniture was meagre and sparse. Its wood was splintering and the bed looked to be moth eaten. Compared to the room, The Woman was a picture of loveliness and refinement.
Atticus', blood boiled when he set eyes on The Woman's room. Ms. Maudie Atkinson was in possession of rooms which were, for one in a habitable condition and two, had decent furniture and were at least appealing to the eye. God, how many times she had shown Atticus the plethora's of flowers that adorned all of her rooms, and how many times had he been asked to stay the night in "the nicest of the lot." Surely didn't Maudie have a sense of decency and civility?
But when Atticus saw the way The Woman was arranging her belongings, he felt a sense of pride. Here was a respectable woman who had been dumped with a fancily rubbish room, yet she was polite enough to accept it without kicking up a fuss. Atticus marvelled at the sheer amount of books, which adorned her room. They piled up on every flat surface available and tottered on high rising towers. The rest of her belonging were meagre and small compared to the vast numbers of literature.
The woman abruptly stopped as we both heard the shrill and wavering voice of Maudie. It pierced the previously tranquil air and Atticus was jolted out of his riviere. The woman too jumped and hurried off leaving Atticus cursing Maudie for interrupting his mindless gawk. Atticus knew he has to take action, at least say hello. Maybe provide a 'welcome' present? Or give her some flowers? All of this seemed too cliché for Atticus. He knew that if he gave her a gift, it would result mixed signals and gossip which would spread like wildfire. No he had to be calm and simply 'drop in.' He shouldn't appear too interested and yet he must be polite and courteous.
At least half an hour later, after much changing of suits, spraying of cologne, brushing of hair and revising conversations. Atticus rapped at Ms. Maudie's screen door. God, was it possible to be this nervous? He had cleaned up like he was going to church and rehearsed his opening line and conversation like he was in a trial. Yet, strangely, this event seemed more nerve-racking that any case he had ever undertaken.
When the door flew open with a painful screech, Atticus was greeted by the gaudy and flamboyant figure of Ms. Maudie. She 'oohed' and 'aahed' over his latest victory in court, she laughed in that cackling and repetitive guffaw of hers and she continuously touched her hastily applied makeup and patted her curled locks.
All this time, Atticus itched to see the beautiful and striking creature inside her house. He dropped hints, he peered inside yet Maudie was much more interested in keeping him on the front porch. Finally Atticus asked for a cup of tea.
That was the starting gun for Maudie Atkinson, she took a strong hole of his arm and dragged him inside her flower filled house to her effeminate and garish parlour. It was much like a florists shop yet the startlingly strong odour of flowers almost made Atticus' eyes water. He was seated upon a squashy chair and adamantly made to 'sit tight' while Maudie fixed him 'the best cuppa tea in the whole'a Maycomb!' Atticus patiently waited for this mysterious creature to appear. He waited, waited until…The sound of quiet, dainty footsteps alerted Atticus. This couldn't be Maudie, she wasn't the kind to tiptoe. There was only one explanation.
A head of sleek black hair emerged from behind the doorframe. Then a pair of intense hazel eyes, set in a pool of flawless and clear skin. Soon her whole, picturesque figure emerged. She looked like she had emerged from a dream. Not a speck of dust covered her body, which was unusual for Maycomb folk. For Atticus, it was a beautiful sight, he willed himself to stand up and at least introduce himself. But he had a brain to mouth malfunction. All he could do was part his lips and quietly exhale. She walked towards him in long strides, all this while keeping her eyes fixed on his. She too seemed to be observing him.
Finally Atticus broke the silence by extending his hand (shakily) and murmuring "Atticus Finch." She seemed startled by this and quickly took his hand and shook it. Her skin was so soft, like velvet, yet he could still feel those minor rough patches and lines.
"Virginia Graham" She said quietly, breathing the words out in a gentle voice. Atticus nodded quietly and marvelled at her name. It suited her perfectly, unusual, independent, soothing and beautiful. They continued to observe each other until, their tranquil moment was shattered. Maudie brought in the tea.
She had gone all out, biscuits, fruit, cake, sugar (cubes!?), cold milk, tea in a lavish china cup and even a small piece of chocolate. All of this was stacked upon a tray which she set down with a resounding clatter. When she caught sight of Virginia and our close proximity. Her smile faltered and her voice took on a different tone.
"Atticus, I see you've met Virginia, my new companion." When she said 'companion,' it came out as a sneer. Atticus quirked an eyebrow and noticed that Virginia quickly cast her eyes towards the ground.
He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, we introduced ourselves, I must say I'm very glad to make her acquaintance." With every word, Atticus felt his voice growing stronger. He flashed what he thought was a smile at Virginia and shrewdly eyed Ms. Maudie. Her eyes widened before turning her gaze to Virginia. For a moment she gazed at her impassively until she remembered her role as hostess and busied herself with tea and milk. Atticus shot a quick glance at Virginia, she was already staring at him and she widened her lips into a perfect smile.
Atticus had insisted that Virginia had tea with them (to Maudie's' evident disapproval.) They chatted about Montgomery, (where Virginia was from), about the rest of Maycomb, Atticus' career as a lawyer and his many cases (built up by Maudie). When Atticus finally realised, it was time for him to leave, and he made his way towards the door and was halted by Maudie insisting on him taking some cake. Finally he and Virginia had a moment to themselves. They made small talk about the neighbourhood and the places of interest. Atticus couldn't help feeling drawn to her. It was like she held some sort of power over him. He finally managed to get the words out, after mulling over it for a few minutes.
"Would you like to come to my house for a spot of tea tomorrow?" His voice sounded strange yet Atticus still held his breath. Virginia took a quick glance around, almost secretively and whispered, "I would love too, but would Ms. Atkinson mind?"
Atticus breathed a silent sigh of relief, she was willing to come. He quickly replied,
"Don't worry, I doubt she will mind."
Her face broke into an ear splitting smile and Atticus was lost, she was breathtaking. She gave a quiet laugh and he had to admit, the fact that they were sneaking around did make him feel like a teenager. Suddenly they both turned around to the loud footsteps of Maudie. She pressed a squashy piece of cake into Atticus' hand and walked him outside. Atticus caught a final glimpse of Virginia before Maudie slammed the door in her face.
When Atticus finally escaped, Maudie's claws, he lay awake in bed that night thinking. Not how he was going to 'seduce' Virginia or become more than her friend but how to understand her. Find out her interests and share their love of reading. Admittedly, Atticus was attracted to her yet he knew her would never be able to faintly consider anything romantic between the two. She was so much younger than him, she was a companion to his neighbour and according to the unspoken laws of Maycomb, that was forbidden and she was most likely uninterested in him. It looked like he would have to admire her from afar and maintain a strictly non-romantic relationship.