I wiped the table off, covering it back up with the tablecloth, straightening it as best I could before moving on to the parlour. Elaine was at the store, picking up food for when Mimi Smith and John came over. I, meanwhile, was cleaning up the house, as promised. I swept the floors, cleaned tables and counters, dusted and fluffed, then made both our beds, in the case that Mimi decided to look upstairs. Hopefully, John was pleasant. I didn't really care whether or not he was a 'catch', but I knew Mimi was strict, which, upsettingly, reminded me of Grandmother. It turned out Elaine had a record player in the parlour, and that we had common interests in music, so I had some Chuck Berry on, which Grandmother never let me listen to if she was in the house. It was amazing, the stuff the Americans made.

I emptied out an ashtray just as Elaine returned. "Hello." I greeted her, and she grunted, carrying the bags to the kitchen.

"Had some extra pence," she told me, coming back into the parlour as I turned off the record player. "Got you something. Go on, take a break. The house looks brilliant." She handed me a bottled drink, cool to the touch. I accepted it gladly, thanking her. "You say thank you quite the lot, is that a Maghull thing?"

I shrugged, taking a sip of the drink. It was one of those iced sweet teas, which I found were to die for.

After unpacking the groceries, Elaine had gotten to cooking, whereas I had already finished cleaning the house, so I went back upstairs, sitting on my bed.

She had taken me around the neighbourhood this morning, pointing out even little nooks and crannies, the good shops and the bad ones, the cranky neighbours. Elaine then brought me to a nice little field not too far away from the house, Strawberry Fields, I believe she called it. Elaine told me she'd take me to the downtown, where 'all the real action happened' on Friday evening, seeing as today was Sunday and she wouldn't have any time to take me around the city if she was working.

Thankfully for me, it was still summer break, so I could try looking around Liverpool myself. Hopefully John would be nice enough to show me around. Elaine said he was two years older than me, but I wished that wouldn't make him talk down to me, since I hated when people did that.

So far, my time in Liverpool had been terrific. Ever since Liz on the train, the only people I'd met were very happy, laid back. Ignoring the fact that I'd only gotten to know Elaine. Nevertheless, the clerks at all the shops we stopped at were generally pleasant. Liverpool seemed like the perfect place for me. The perfect place for me to forget about my parents, my Grandmother, and pretty much anyone in Bristol, except for Jack and Alice. I knew there were other good people in Bristol, I just never took the time to know them.

I wondered if Grandmother had reported me missing to the police yet. Or dead. I didn't know which, but I assumed she'd prefer me dead. Grandfather died when I was 5, Alice was 8. I remember it a little, though it was ten years ago by now. Grandmother was nicer before that.

It was odd what death of another could do to a person. Grandmother got meaner, Alice got more protective, and I got quieter. I suppose Grandmum got it just as bad as we did, having lost her husband, then her son. She could've related to us more, though. Been a little more empathetic, perhaps?

Scrunching up my nose, I tucked away the tattered photo album underneath some clothes in the highest drawer. I hadn't unpacked very much last night, only half of the trunk, and the duffel. I pulled my violin case out from underneath my bed, and opened it. Alice had been learning piano, so I picked up some from her. Grandmother didn't like it when I would 'use the violin improperly'. Well, she definitely turned me away from even wanting to play it. Why did I even bother bringing it with me?

Sliding it back under my bed, I pulled the hundred pound notes from Jack out of my knapsack. This was a lot of money. I could probably buy a pretty fancy record player with it, but I'd rather save up for one on my own.

I laid back, checking the clock. There was only another hour before Mimi Smith and John would be over. I wondered if I would be able to hear them if I pressed my ear up against the wall. If Mimi was like Grandmother, John would either act just like me, which would be good, or he'd be some prissy wanker, one of those people that wears suits and dress clothing everywhere. Hopefully he wasn't the latter.

My pillow was delightfully soft. I had been wondering where Elaine had the money for all this, until she told me last night that the house used to be her great aunt's, and they left it fully furnished. Apparently Beatrice, the woman's name, made Elaine and her brother call her 'Graunty' Beatrice.

I couldn't tell if I was looking forward to having Mimi and John over tonight or not. It felt like everything was moving much faster, now that I was away from the dull repetition of Bristol. Which of course, reminded me of Alice. Why did she want to stay there? I had telephoned her again before I started cleaning this morning, and she had told me that Grandmother reported me dead, typical, and the police had checked for a body, which was a little disturbing to tell me. Like I'd want to know my corpse was being searched for. Anyhow, they had corrected the report to missing until they found a body, and that it was all over the radio. I just hoped that the news wouldn't spread all the way here to Merseyside. At least I'd be reported as Heather Eaton, not Roxanne Eaton. Honestly, I liked the sound of Roxanne better than Heather, along with the fact that Grandmother's name is Heather.

The doorbell rang. "Could you get that, Roxanne?" Elaine called from downstairs. I hurried to the door, brushing some hair out of my face before I opened it. A woman with black, curly short cut hair, dressed awfully primly, and a boy with light brown hair, styled into a quiff with the nicest brown eyes behind a pair of large glasses and surprisingly, a leather jacket. Maybe he wouldn't be too bad.

"Oh," the woman who I presumed to be Mimi Smith said, looking me up and down. John, I supposed, was eyeing me too. "Hello." I stepped out of the way to let them in. it sounded like Mimi was trying to have a posh accent or something, but it sounded odd over her Scouse one.

"Hello, Mimi, John!" Elaine called from the kitchen.

Mimi dipped her head. "Good evening. Urm, who's this?"

"Oh, yes!" Scurrying out of the kitchen, Elaine proudly clapped her hand on my shoulder. "This is Roxanne, she moved in yesterday. From Maghull, I hear." I nodded.

They clamoured off, Elaine back to the stove, and Mimi to the parlour that I had painstakingly cleaned all day, leaving me, still in the mudroom with John. "Maghull, eh?" He grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. I nodded a little, staring at him. He had to be at least three or four inches taller than me. Mimi was about my height, though. "What made you want to come here?" Leaning against the wall, his smile grew wider as he brushed his hair back with his hand. My eyes were fixated on his cigarette. Grandmother never allowed them inside, no matter who was visiting, and I guess that habit brushed off onto me.

"Education. It was my parents." I muttered, and John pulled the fag from his lips, making me sigh internally of relief.

"Woah, woah. That's no Maghull accent, and I've heard plenty before." He said, nearly poking the lit cigarette into my chest.

I felt my cheeks flush red as my stomach dropped. "Yes, so what?" I clenched my fists. His voice was annoying. His accent was annoying. What business is he, commenting on mine?

John raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm saying you're not from Maghull."

"And?" I challenged stubbornly. Maybe I could just make him give up in frustration.

"So, your story is rubbish!" He exclaimed, his face getting in mine. Angrily, I slapped the cig out of his mouth and mashed it into the floor. John scrunched up his nose at me. "You made the mess. Clean it up, will you?" I huffed and dusted it out of the door with a broom that was laying nearby once he had strutted to the parlour. I was wrong about him being nice, he was an arrogant, good for nothing, self centred prick.

I stomped into the parlour, settling myself into a chair farthest away from John. "Tell me about yourself," Mimi got my attention. I folded my hands in my lap.

"Yes, of course." I shot a glare at John. "I'm from Maghull, of course-"

"Bollocks." John muttered, cutting me off.

I attempted to ignore him and keep talking. "Um, I play violin," Mimi looked impressed, then expectantly at John, who threw his hands up frustratedly. "A little piano, and I mostly sketch a lot."

"Yeah, well, have you a band?" John leant forward, a new grin plastered on his face. "No, you haven't. Because you don't have any friends here, and nobody wants to be in some posh twat's violin quartet!"

I gasped, trying to keep my cool as my fists clenched and unclenched, my heart beating. "John!" Mimi shouted, slamming the arm of her chair to shut him up. "You're a guest! Act like it!" He gazed at her sheepishly, and I wanted to rip his neck off. I grasped my chest, exhaling deeply to calm myself so I didn't jump him.

"It's ready!" Elaine called from the kitchen, obviously oblivious to all that had just gone on. It smelt wonderful, though. I tried to pass off all that had happened with John. We had gotten off on a bad foot, and it was getting worse by the second. I didn't even know what his problem with me was. Honestly, it bothered me a bit.

He sat down across from me, which I hated. He was obnoxious the whole meal, which I hated. He was loud and offensive, and worst of all, had lit another cigarette once the meal was done. "Roxanne," Elaine turned to me. "You finished unpacking, correct, why not show it off to John?" I tried shaking my head discretely, but Elaine didn't pick up on it. I sighed as John's chair scraped back. Resentfully, I thanked Elaine and trudged upstairs, John in close tow.

"What is your problem?" I demanded, closing the door behind him.

John stared at me, appalled. "Huh? Like I don't know you followed me here yesterday. Get a life!"

I growled in frustration. "That's exactly what I'm trying to do, wanker!"

"Twat!" He snapped in reply. I threw my arms up, stomping over to my bed and sitting down, crossing my arms.

Raising an eyebrow, I smirked. "Is twat the only insult you can think up?"

John huffed and leant back in his chair. "You're some posh little kid. I don't need to waste my breath on you."
"Yeah. Sure. What'd you learn that attitude from? Your 'tough as nails' sailor dad?" I snorted, and I saw John freeze and stare at me. "What?" I asked, feeling a little guilty.

"Just," he grunted. "Don't."

I obliged, not wanting to talk to him anyways. He was talking like they were the higher end of British, like he was a high quality person or something. Wrong, he's a snide little sailor boy, who just by chance can tote a guitar or something. I leant against the wall and looked to the side, away from him.

John sighed after a moment. "We got off on a bad foot, huh?" He murmured, and I gritted my teeth.

"Yeah, no shit!" I huffed, raising an eyebrow at him.

"So?"

Appalled, I glared at him. "Are you expecting me to apologize or something? Because I'm not going to." John made a frustrated noise.

"Worth a try," he muttered. Was he trying to push my buttons? I hoped Elaine would be finished with dinner soon, so I could look at other people besides his ugly mug. "You're so full of yourself, you know?"

I laughed this time, having bit my tongue on the last few arbitrary comments he had made. "Me? Full of myself? You think Liverpool's the nicest place on Earth, and the east is the rubbish area! My sister was right, the lot of you aren't real British!" Dad was quite patriotic, Alice and I got it from him.

John stood up, eyes blazing as he was obviously severely offended. "Honestly!" He shouted. "And where you're from is much better? Tell me, where'd you come from?" I opened my mouth but he cut me off. "And don't give me any of that 'Maghull' bollocks."

I tilted my head as I clenched my fists, ready to stand and swiftly punch him if need be. "For your information, John, I'm from Bristol, a much nicer place than this!" It was quite ironic me saying this, having only moved here the afternoon before the reason being that I was tired of Bristol and its way of treating me.

"If it's so nice, why didn't you stay? It's good for stuck up tossers like you!" John sneered, and I got up, hitting him square in the jaw as Elaine opened the door.

"Roxanne!" She exclaimed, seeing my fist collide with John's face, which felt rather pleasant, must I say so myself. "What are you doing?" I stared at her before looking down at my fists.

"Um.."

John was hissing in pain as he clenched his jaw. He straightened up to glare at me, murmuring something under his breath which I took as a threat, even though I couldn't hear it properly.

Elaine narrowed her eyes disapprovingly at me, exhaling sharply. "I was going to say that I had brought out some sweets." She turned to John. "Would you like some ice for that?" Elaine asked him, eyeing me in disdain. He shook his head, but I wished he had said yes, so he would get out of the room and leave me alone. Instead, he was trying to be tough or something. As Elaine left the room, he sat back down, still wincing with his hand on his jaw. I didn't even punch that hard, he was just milking it.

"Thanks for this," he griped angrily, practically asking for me to hit the other side. "Real nice."

I huffed, sitting on the floor. "Maybe if you weren't such a prick you wouldn't get punched by girls."

"Yeah, a real bird, aren't you?"

Resisting the urge to punch him again, I began playing with my fingers. "I'd take my grandmother over you, that's for sure." I gritted my teeth.

John smirked. "Why your grandmother? Were you so stuck up your Mummy and Daddy were fed up with you and dumped you off with Grams?" I froze, my face flushed although I was seething with anger, my heart pumping as I searched for a witty enough comeback to make him cry for Mimi. He seemed to be fuelled by some rage from an outside source.

"Is that why you're living with your aunt?" I shot back. "Because your parents didn't want you anymore?" His expression dropped, and he let out a soft whimper. "I'm.. I'm sorry." I admitted, looking to the ground. I didn't know about him, but I had worded it too harshly. Maybe that's actually what happened, why he's living with Mimi.

John's expression grew fiery and unforgiving again. "Don't apologize." He said coldly, staring at me. "You don't even know me." Without another word, he stormed out of my room, seeming to have forgotten about his jaw as he walked straight out of the house, angrily pulling what looked like a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets and lighting one clumsily. He looked like a bloke, standing out there, glaring at people as they passed by. How tough.

I stepped downstairs back into the parlour, finding Elaine and Mimi still chatting as if John hadn't passed by in his little fit of rage. Perhaps this happened often.

As I still was adjusting to the whole Liverpool scene, all the new people, I strode to the door without a word to the two ladies. John hadn't moved, except for whipping around to face me. "What do you want now?" He demanded.

I didn't know exactly why I had returned to him. I had wanted him to leave me alone mere minutes before, but here I was now, seeking him out. "We started off wrong, yeah?" I attempted to soothe him, stepping closer. "How about we start over?" I offered, holding out a hand. Now, I didn't do this very often, but if Mimi and Elaine were good friends as implied, and John had a band, and all these people he knew, I would be on a bad foot with practically everyone in Liverpool, and I didn't want it turning out like Bristol so I had to run away to somewhere else again.

John stared at me, then his eyes shifted down to my outstretched hand. He took the lit fag out of his mouth, eyeing me carefully. "Did Mimi set you up to this?" He asked, and I shook my head. "Well, then. I guess I'm sorry too, for being a bit of a wanker." A bit. Sure. I dared not say that aloud though. The whole neighbourhood would hear, and kaput, I'd have to move somewhere else, or worse, be stuck back in Bristol. He shook my hand hesitantly, muttering "This best hadn't be a joke," under his breath.

"It's not." I reassured him. "Now, let's make a deal. You never bring up me being from Bristol, and I never bring up your parents." John raised an eyebrow, grinning a bit.

"Deal."