A/N- Just wanted to say that I'm doing Nanowrimo this year, so I'm hoping to get 'A Twist of Fate' finished and then can focus on this fic! Let me know what you guys think of the chapter! Bethany x
Chapter 11- Revelations
I head up to the room when lesson ends, chucking on a jumper and coat before I leave.
The girls went straight to the dining room as I moved upstairs, having plans to go out drinking again. We only have one skiing lesson left tomorrow, and then we're done for the year. We'll probably be going out drinking for the next week straight, so I don't mind missing one session. Maybe I'll be able to convince Four to join us one time.
Since I entered back into the classroom, I had been racking my brain of a reason why I wouldn't be joining them. But before I had to succumb to an obvious made up lie, Bud popped his head through the doorway. He had said the slopes were back open, the harshness of the storm being passed. The majority of the class were unbothered, it being too late for them to go out anyway. But for me, it was the perfect cover.
"You can't miss one day of training?" Christina whined, pouting.
I leaned back in my chair, speaking up over the loudness of the room. "I've missed like 5 already because of the storm. Four won't be happy if I miss any more."
She heaved a sigh, scribbling on my exercise book, "I can't wait until you win that competition, I miss hanging out with my best friend."
I had told her to stop being so melodramatic, then the lesson ended and I left soon after.
Now, pushing my nerves aside, I hurry down the last set of stairs, walking through the lounge. When I get outside, I see it's still snowing, but a lot lighter than it was this morning. Headlights blare in the near distance with a figure leaning against an old looking range rover.
I walk over hesitantly, just in case it's not him. Squinting through the glare, I watch as the figure looks up from their phone. I relax as my eyes meet familiar ones.
"Hey," I say, standing in front of him.
"Hey," Four replies, his mouth pulling to the side as he pockets his phone, "ready to go?"
He opens the passenger door, waiting for me to hop in, "I'd be more ready if I knew where we're going." I reply, pulling myself up.
He shuts the door, coming around the car and opens his own, "where's the fun in that?" He replies slyly, putting the key in the ignition.
The vehicle makes some sort of screeching, reminding me of when I accidentally stood on my cat's tail. Four looks over guiltily, "It's booked to go into the garage in the new year." I look at him blankly as a smile slowly creeps onto his face, "It's safe, I promise!"
Shaking my head, I buckle my seat belt, "if I die, Four-"
He huffs out a laugh, "you'll be fine." Twisting the steering wheel, we make our way out of the small town.
The snow hits the windshield more aggressively with the speed, making the wipers work extra hard. Back in England, I would be apprehensive to drive my car if it had started snowing. But, as I look over at Four, he seems to be right at home in the conditions.
"Do you drive a lot?" I ask, leaning into the seat. I watch his face, unwavering from the road.
He shrugs his shoulders as we begin the decline down the mountain. "Not really. There's not much point when everything I need is within walking distance." The car hums loudly, like it doesn't agree with Four's driving habits. "I try to give it a good run every couple of weeks, keep the battery healthy."
I nod, even though he's not looking. I look around, and think that it's more of a truck than a car. It only fits two, three at a squeeze. The empty bed in the back takes up the majority of the room. My gaze lands on the dash, eyes falling onto a cassette player. "How old is this thing?" I joke, pointing to the right of his steering wheel. Not even a CD player lies under it. His eyes flick down, but are back on the road in seconds.
"98," he grins, patting the wheel, "and still going strong."
I raise my brows, the screeching of the engine unignorable. "Sounds like it."
He points to the glove compartment, "I think Mum left a cassette in there somewhere."
Leaning over, I open the draw. The door comes loose, and I bring my leg up swiftly to catch the plastic. Ignoring the car slowly falling apart, I siffle through the opening. Under some paperwork and a lone ski glove, is one cassette.
The label seems to have worn off over time, so I just put it in the player at the same time as I close the glove compartment. "This was your mums car?" I ask as the machine eats the cassette.
He nods, "yeah, said if I fixed it up I could have it."
After a few more seconds, a song begins to play. I lean in closer, the music sounding familiar.
"You recognise it?" Four asks.
I don't reply for a few beats, trying to figure out if I do. When the chorus hits, I sit back, nodding. "I think my Mum likes this song." The melody brings me back to my childhood. Dad would be away with work, and Mum would be cleaning the house on a Saturday morning, blasting her music loud enough that I was sure the whole street could hear.
"Really?" He says, sounding surprised.
I nod, knowing where he's going. "It's some unknown New Romantics band, right? She used to love listening to them in the 80's- and then made me listen to them, too."
He chuckles, "yeah, mine did that as well. I remember a story she told me once. I think her and a friend snuck into one of their concerts when they were broke at Uni. Her friend fractured her wrist or something when she climbed the fence in, but didn't get it checked out until after the gig."
My head turns slowly, the story sounding oddly familiar. "What year did your mum go to Newcastle, Four?"
"Uh," his brows pull together, "85? 86?" He looks over to me briefly, and I can see the confusion painted on his face. We've travelled down the winding mountain path, now on a straight road heading towards a cluster of warm lights.
85 was the year mine started. "Don't tell me she studied English Lit."
Seeming weirded out, he nods slowly.
A sharp laugh leaves my mouth as I shake my head. "No fucking way." How the hell have I bumped into Mum's Uni friend's child? In the French Alps of all places?
"Are you expecting me to piece the puzzle together, Tris? Because I have no clue where you're going with this."
I turn the music down, making sure he doesn't mishear me. "Your Mum's friend? The one who fractured her wrist?" He nods impatiently, his dark eyes flickering to me every few seconds. "pretty sure that was my Mum."
"You're joking." He says, deadpan.
Mum doesn't really talk about her friend all that often, but when her Uni days get brought up, the woman is always in her stories.
"Emily? Evie?" I rack my brain for her name, not quite remembering what she went by back then.
Four rubs his face, his head hitting the back of the seat. "Evelyn?"
I'm nodding before he's finished, "that's it!"
"Uh, small world I guess?" He ends up getting out, sounding speechless.
I lean back into my seat, watching the lights turn into another small town. I smile to myself, even though I'm unable to pinpoint how I'm feeling. "Super small world."
...
Four parks the truck in a small, dark car park, then we walk through an alley to a bright high street. It's quite a bit bigger than the skiing village, which is nice- maybe i'll actually be able to find Zeke something now.
"So, do you know why they stopped talking?" Four asks, in tandem next to me as we walk down the pavement. I keep an eye out for shops I think would be promising, but nothing's caught my eye just yet.
I shake my head, "no clue. I'm sure I would have asked her at some point, but who knows how she replied." I'll probably ring her later tonight, when I'm not with Four. When I glance over to him, he's looking straight ahead, seeming lost in thought.
My eyes gravitate just past Four, to a sign on the other side of the sleepy street. It's some sort of music store, and when I look closer I can see records in the display window. Perfect. Quickly making sure the road is clear, I grab Four's arm, pulling him along with me towards the shop.
...
The bell chimes as I push open the wooden door. The woman at the register looks up, but doesn't give us the time of day. I look around the place, trying to figure out if there's any organisation to the records. Genre, I think.
Walking over to the rock section, I thumb through them. What was that one band he liked? Four comes around my side, going back a few vinyls. He picks one out, passing it to me. "He's been listening to them for the past few months."
The name sounds familiar, but I don't know if I would have picked it. "Thanks." I say, smiling up at him. "Have you got your Secret Santa yet?"
He turns around, going through a bunch of CDs in a basket. "Uh, yeah." He replies, head nodding along, but says no more.
Unable to help my curiosity, I move to his side, head tilting. "Is it one of the boys?"
He shakes his head and picks up a CD. I grin, knowing I'm getting somewhere. "So it's a girl."
Dropping the CD back into the pile, he sighs dramatically, "You'll get nowhere with this."
Still grinning, I say, "Just tell me what you got her and I'll guess."
"Tris…"
"Four…"
He laughs, "telling you wouldn't be in the Christmas spirit, would it?"
I roll my eyes, "you didn't even want to do the Secret Santa until I persuaded you to join!"
Raising his brows, he grabs the vinyl out of my hands, "come on, let's pay."
...
"Not even a little clue?"
He shakes his head slowly, not even bothering to look over, "give it up."
"Fine," I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. I look down the road, reading the signs poking out of the building. "Where's this cafe again?"
We come to a square at the centre of the town. Past the statue in the middle of the cobblestones, is a bunch of mismatched houses. "It's just round the corner."
Four had suggested we go to this coffee shop down the road, saying it's the best in the village. I agreed happily, knowing I'd do anything to stay out that bit longer with him.
We round the corner, and Four holds open the door for me to walk through. I smile in thanks as I move past him.
The shop's cosy, the lights dim but warm. Four points to a couple of armchairs by the window, then goes up to order.
I walk over, pulling my coat off as I move. Sitting down, I stuff the coat down the side of the chair, placing the record on the window sill.
Quiet chatter surrounds the cafe, background noise to me due to the language barrier. Doing Spanish at school maybe wasn't my best choice.
I lean down and grab my phone out of my coat pocket, looking to see the time. But instead, my eye catches on a bunch of texts. There's a few from Christina and Marlene, already drunk even though they must have only got to the bar maybe half an hour ago?
Lynn sends a picture of Christina up on the bar, her arms in the air. I shake my head smiling, now glancing at the time. It's just hit half 6.
A mug gets placed in front of me on the table, and when I look up, Four's just sitting down in his seat. "Forgot to ask what you wanted." He says, leaning back into his chair. "Also have no clue how you take your tea."
"Normally just a bit of milk," I say as I reach over and pick up the burning mug. I take a sip, shrugging, "to be fair, it's never going to taste the same as it does back home."
"That's true," Four agrees, placing his mug back onto the table between us. "I haven't been back to the UK in years, but it's not easy to forget-"
My phone rings loudly, cutting Four off. I grab it quickly, trying to turn it off. My eyes catch onto the name before my hand even presses the lock button. "My god, piss off," I mutter to myself, holding down the lock button. It switches off finally, the incessant ringing ceasing.
"Remind me to never ring you," I hear him joke as I shove the device back into my coat pocket.
"I'd pick up your call." I say without thinking. My eyes shift to the window, trying to ignore that I even said anything. "Do you come down to this town often?"
He hums, and from the corner of my eye I can see an amused smile on his face. I feel my cheeks heat up uncontrollably.
"My Mum lives down here," he replies after a moment. I look back to him slowly, willing the heat to dissipate. "But the majority of the time, she comes to me." He leans forward slightly, his forearms resting on his knees. "That reminds me- she's popping in on Christmas eve, so was wondering if you wanted to come with so we can talk to her about your mother." He says it like it's no big deal, just a passing thought.
I definitely don't take it as one, not with my pulse beginning to speed up. "Uh, yeah, of course. But-" I swear I see his shoulders falter ever so slightly, "are you not spending the day with her? What about the rest of your family?"
"Oh, yeah, no- I'm spending it with Zeke and Shauna. Zeke convinced me that if I wasn't there then he'd have a melt down.I'm up here Christmas day as well." Zeke does take the lead up to Christmas every seriously, Christmas Eve has always been his favourite. Four rolls his eyes, "so now I get to spend even more time with him."
I shake my head, "you are going to hate this Christmas." I giggle, thinking of Four being surrounded by all my friends for the entire day. "You do know it's not just going to be Zeke and Shauna you'll be spending the holiday with, right?"
"I put the dots together when Secret Santa went from 3 to over 10." He brushes his hand through his hair, pushing back some loose strands that have fallen onto his forehead, "Just don't be surprised in the early afternoon when you can't find me."
"Shauna's going to have her eyes on you like a hawk, Four- there's no way you're disappearing."
He laughs, but it's cut off by an old woman coming up to us. She turns to Four, eyes lighting up. She says something in French, her body angled towards my instructor. She makes a few hand gestures, smiling and laughing. Four nods away, listening intently to her. He must know her, seeming he's being so respectful. I still remember when we met, and I choke down a laugh just thinking of this lady's reaction if he spoke to her like that.
After a few long minutes of the two chatting, the elderly woman's gaze moves to me. I force out a smile, and hope it comes across genuine.
"Bonsoir," she says, nodding her head at me. I'm not exactly sure what it means, so I keep my mouth shut. Maybe it's a more specific hello? Good afternoon? Evening? Either way, I just nod back, not wanting to look stupid saying words I don't know the meaning of.
She turns back to Four, and I let out a withheld breath. His eyes move to mine only once, then it seems he's wrapping up the conversation.
She nods a few times, then nods her head in my direction "À plus."
Not waiting for a reply, she heads off, giving Four's shoulder a squeeze as she walks past.
The bell chimes as the woman leaves the coffee shop, the door closing softly behind her. "Friend of yours?" I jokingly ask, grabbing my lukewarm cup of tea. I take a sip, but decide I'm not thirsty enough to lower my standards that much.
"Ha, ha." He says in monotone, and that smile that has seemed to take residence on my face reappears again. "Old friend of my Grand-mère."
"So you're French on your mother's side?" I confirm. From the bits and pieces he's said over the few weeks we've been on a friendship level, it seems the most likely predicament.
He nods, looking out the window. "Mum's French, Dad's English."
I lean back into the armchair, letting my thoughts just flow out, "I've always found it surprising, the French and English marrying. I can't help but wonder how explosive the arguments are."
"Oh, they were bad," he chuckles, agreeing. "The long lived feud must have been the reason for their divorce."
I grin back, watching as his eyes light up. It's maddening how handsome he is.
Without another word, Four stands. I look up at him, brows raised. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
I shake my head, grabbing my coat off the floor. Four grabs the vinyl from the window sill, then holds out a hand. I grab it subconsciously, letting him pull me up.
I try not to think about my hand in his, how his palm dwarfs my own- or how rough his skin feels against-
"I know the perfect place." He says, his lips pulling to the side. I blink away my haze, nodding.
"Let's go then."