...et le chapitre six!
England
Rex's POV (Kinda)
To be quite honest, he had no idea what he was doing. Rex wasn't the sort of person who generally bunked off school, and he couldn't exactly go back home. He didn't want to hang around the streets either. He couldn't hide forever, and it wasn't as if anything was going to get any better. Short of going to the human world and finding Randall, there was nothing he could do.
Wait, what?
###
Boo
Turbulence. The plane rocked and Mary's drink splashed over the rim. Tessa had fallen asleep quite easily, but she was feeling sick. The liquid in her stomach sloshed like crazy. See, this was the worst thing about turbulence. You couldn't leave your seat to go to the toilets to throw up down one, because the seatbelt light had pinged on, but this was the moment when you most needed to. Mary stared resolutely out the airbus's window, at the clouds below. It didn't help.
###
By the time the plane touched down in Birmingham airport, Mary was feeling distinctly queasy, and was glad to breath in the fresh air. Tessa had explained that her countryside manor was a little way outside Stanhope, in the North of England. If the traffic was good, it should take three and a half hours to get there. If not, it could take anything up to five.
Once out of the airport, they were met by Tessa's chauffeur, Stephenson. Mary had never thought of Tessa as rich before, but she guessed that all the money was supplied by her employers to make sure she could do the best job possible.
Mary slept for the rest of the journey, the side of her face pressed against the cold glass in a way that would leave a mark on her cheek for the rest of the day. She hadn't even realised just how exhausted she was until she had sank back into her seat.
The car pulled up to the house four hours later. Mary got out, stretched, and looked around. The extensive driveway was sandy-coloured gravel, and grass spread out for quite a distance. The house was a large red-brick affair with concrete keystones above each whitewashed-wood-framed window. It wasn't ugly, exactly, but it hadn't been build with aesthetics in mind either. It was blocky and stable, with two chimneys, one at either end, and three attic windows, the middle of which looked as if it had tried to be a tower, but was far to stubby for the name. Ivy completely blanketed one side of the house, and was thriving.
"It was build in the 1860s," Tessa said, "About the same time as the London Fire Brigade was established, and Charles Dickens published Great Expectations."
Mary jumped, and then frowned. "And those things have any correlation to each other how?"
"They don't, they're just all interesting facts."
"Ri-ight."
"And they're all England related."
"Okay."
Tessa smiled fondly at the building. "I like this house."
"Um..."
"Should I stop talking?"
"That would be a good idea."
"Want to go inside?"
"What about our luggage?"
"Don't worry, while we've been inspecting the house, Stephenson has taken the opportunity to take our things to our rooms. Shall we go?"
"Oh, okay then."
She had chosen the house, Tessa told Mary, because it was firm and well-build, likely to withstand whatever was thrown at it. It was also secluded; Tessa could be herself more when distanced from humans.
"Those weren't the only reasons, though." Tessa said over dinner. "I don't know why, but the moment I saw this house I just knew it would be this one I bought. I just, I don't know, liked it."
Mary understood what she meant, to fall in love with a place, or a building, or an object, for no apparent reason, and she had to admit that the place had a weird kind of charm. She was especially in love with her room, with its bright teal walls and bedspread, and cream ceiling. The vibrant garishness was oddly attractive.