OK people, this is it, this is the last chapter of TT but it won't be the last time you see Beila..... In fact, if you look on my profile pretty soon, you should find the sequel (which I'm trying to name.....) It's a CSI:NY story, and then after that's done, (If I get my butt in gear) there should be another one, with Beila after college......
I don't own CSI. Unfortunately.
R&R please people!!!
Beila stepped into the terminal and glanced around. And there, standing with a bunch of roses in his hand, was her Grandfather.
"Grandpa!" She cried, launching herself at him, and wrapping her arms around his waist. Michael Conway Sr. smiled a weary smile, and reached his arms across her shoulders.
"It's good to have you home, sweetheart." He said, in between kissing her hair and squeezing the life out of her. "Oh," He started, as he finally let her out of the hug. He made a grand show as he presented her flowers to her. "For the young lady." He finished.
"Oh, Grandpa!" She breathed, "They're beautiful."
Her grandfather merely smiled in response, linked an arm round her shoulders, and guided her to her luggage.
The group of people congregated on the classic British day were dressed in black. The oppressive nature of their mood was reflected in the grey skies and pathetic drizzle. Women sobbed, men stood proud with shaking shoulders; and the girl in the middle of it all stood, with a blank face, and wished more than anything that she could be away from the drizzle, the noise, the crying. But as she laid the single red rose on the mound of dirt where her parents were buried, she knew, that despite the hurt, the pain and the seriousness of her situation: there would always be a light at the end of a tunnel, and hers loved her and cherished her more than she could ever hope for.
Beila Conway-Caine stood anxiously in the row of students, her hands fiddling with anything the could reach, the hem of her pleated pinafore, her ponytail, the little piece of green thread on her blazer that was coming loose; if she could see it and reach it, it was fair game.
"Conway, B!" The sharp voice of her former science teacher called out.
Ha! Former, that was a very common word around here today: in the excitement of the moment, the jubilee of the envelope being torn open. How Beila would love to be one of those people who could rejoice in the fact that that grade she had been panicking over was fine, and the stress and worry of the past few months was worth the A4 envelope in her hands.
Beila didn't think it would be worth the price she had paid.
But she had, however, made the conscious decision that she would open the brown envelope with her father, after all, he was her father, and he deserved to see the most important moment of her life thus far.
"Beila!" One of her friends called, with an overjoyed expression, but guarded eyes. "I passed!" She cried, hugging her. "This is excellent!" She cried again.
"Beila!" Another friend called out. "Over here!" Beila and her other friend walked over, and Beila was presented with a shiny box, covered in ribbons. She opened it carefully. Lying on the top was a folded shirt, with the emblem of the school on the left breast. In the middle was the phrase: "Have fun in Miami!" written in blue marker and then various messages from various peers and teachers written in their own distinctive scrawl. Beila felt the tears rising in her eyes. Underneath the folded shirt was a set of various envelopes, each one white, with her name written on the top. And underneath it all was a collection of little trinkets with two ribbons on: one ribbon corresponded to a friend and the yellow ribbon was the colour of Beila. She smiled widely at her friends.
"Thanks, you lot." She said as she hugged them.
"That's okay." One answered after the group hug was finished.
"Just don't be a stranger!" Another added.
"And tell you Dad to expect visitors!" Laughed another.
"Funnily, he said you lot were all welcome in Miami, and that if he needed to, he'd bump up the number of unis to keep an eye on us!" Beila laughed.
"Aw!" The first girl cried, sighing dreamily. "He's already like a proper Daddy, protective and everything!"
"Conway!" Her biology teacher called again. "Your Grandfather is here!" She barked.
Beila looked at her watch. Oops. She'd been here way longer than she was supposed to. She turned to her friends and they shooed her off with a wave of their hands.
"Go!" They laughed.
"I'll talk to you as soon as I get there!" She waved as she left the hall, box and envelope in hand.
The drive to the airport had taken forever, and her grandparents had been quiet the whole way there, each reflecting the current events. As they stood at the airport gate, waving her goodbye, she saw the ghost of a tear on her grandmother's cheek.
The plane gained altitude, and Beila cast a look out of the window. The towns, cities and the people all became smaller as she left Britain, her parents, her friends, and became Beila Caine, of Miami, Florida. And part of her was glad.