Happy New Year to those that celebrated! New year, new-ish fic!
Welcome to Wind in the Sails: Rewrite! The original is still posted and will remain so until this version is complete. (Please keep in mind it's the first thing that I have ever written!) This was supposed to be a very simple just switch the tenses rewrite so I could explore my writing style but lo and behold it's become a little bit more complicated and bigger than that (although I believe the majority of it will remain a simple switch of tense).
Thank you to everyone for your suggestions on the names for my OC, it took me a long time to decide and I really did love all of your suggestions. Sticking with something resembling 'Bella' just didn't feel right to me and when I stumbled upon the name Beatrix, well, it just fit and here we are!
I'm unsure as to how frequent updates will be - I'm in my final year of uni now and my time is quite limited. I'm hoping for at least once a month until May at which point they should hopefully become more frequent.
Thanks for sticking around and hope you enjoy!
1: A series of odd events
Beatrix Veronica Cormac lived a relatively mundane life for a twenty-two-year-old.
She loved her family even though they sometimes drove her crazy at their weekly dinners. She drank a bit more than she probably should but not as much as she did when she was at university, the hangovers seemed to hit harder these days.
She had loved her first boyfriend, sweet and naïvely, only to have her heart broken six months later and had sworn off love entirely … well, until the cute history major sat next to her in their shared classics lecture and she felt all the stirrings of love once again. One coffee date, bowling trip and pub crawl later; Dave and Beatrix were a thing, solid and strong for as long as their university days lasted. Graduation three years later presented an unspoken challenge; Beatrix wanted to stay in Newcastle and be close to her family but Dave wanted to take the London academic world by storm. One coffee date, a few tears and a mutual decision later, they went their separate ways and Beatrix once again swore off love entirely.
But swearing off love did not stop her from feeling attraction and Beatrix occasionally enjoyed the comfort of another person, after all, she still wanted to enjoy her life. Besides, sometimes it was hard not to feel lonely especially when she had a front-row seat to the beautiful romance between her sister and Trish. Though she was truly happy for her sister, she felt that missing piece keenly and it was nice to fill it, even if it was only temporary. Working full-time certainly helped anyhow. It kept her busy and being busy meant less time to think on matters of the heart.
Work at the Coach and Horses pub was repetitive and hard but sometimes fun: cleaning the bar, making drinks, chatting with the regulars and cleaning the bar some more filled her days. So when a lone orange crab scuttled across the stone floor in the corner of her vision one Wednesday afternoon, Beatrix dismissed it as a trick of the light. After all, she'd worked nearly fifty hours in four days, exhaustion was bound to catch up to her sooner or later.
And anyway, the whole idea of a crab, a live crab, scuttling its way through a pub on a rainy Wednesday afternoon was quite honestly ridiculous. Who had ever heard of a wild crab roaming the streets? Maybe on the streets of a coastal town, but this was Newcastle, a city at least thirty minutes away from the sea. Hardly peak wild crab territory.
Rubbing her eyes, Beatrix stifled a yawn and continued wiping down the already clean bar top for the third time. The after-work rush couldn't come soon enough.
The next time something potentially threatened to throw her mundane life into turmoil, Beatrix was attempting to enjoy a rare day off work by wandering around the shops.
The Friday morning sun promised a decent day weather-wise, regardless of the cool breeze that lingered. Beatrix knew not to be too trusting in the reporter's words, knowing that the British weather was highly unpredictable, especially in spring. The sun could quickly be shrouded in clouds and rain would undoubtedly follow within the hour.
Still, it did nothing to dampen Beatrix's excitement at finally having a day away from the pub. It had been an uncommonly busy couple of weeks and her feet ached something terrible after fourteen days on shift. At least she'd have some extra money this month to put towards Charlie's birthday and her own a week later.
Two hours later rain lashed down at the pavement, soaking Beatrix's brown boots. Walking swiftly, she spied Charlie's record shop no more than ten feet in front of her. Making a beeline for it, hoping Charlie would be in, she darted into the shop. Water dripped off her coat and formed a small puddle by her feet at the entrance.
Quiet classic rock music floated around, weaving through the cluttered space. Records lined the walls and sat in bins waiting patiently to be flicked through. It was only a small shop, local and independently owned. The owners treated Charlie well, indulging her wild side. They didn't particularly mind when she came in hungover and slumped over the counter by the till, steaming cup of coffee for company, just as long as she was in. From the look of her, Beatrix guessed she'd had another wild night out with Trish and her friends. Too bad she'd had to work and miss the fun.
Feeling no sympathy for her sister, Beatrix pulled the door shut loudly behind her and delighted in the groan of annoyance that Charlie made as it banged against the frame. Wasting no time, she started wandering down the slim aisle and headed for the reduced bin, chuckling under her breath as Charlie held up her middle finger at her. Sibling love at its finest.
Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Bowie; the usual records smiled up at her but Beatrix discounted them easily enough, she already had those in her collection at home. Not really looking for anything in particular, she kept idly leafing through the vinyl as a sound that was suspiciously similar to a snore came from the counter.
As she reached the records hiding at the back of the bin, usually where the hidden gems were kept, she felt it: the uncomfortable sensation of someone standing too close behind her. Beatrix turned around sharply; ready to confront whoever had invaded her personal space only to find nobody there. The only people in the shop were herself and a sleeping Charlie. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she shook her head, thinking how silly she had been. Of course nobody was standing there watching her. A few minutes and a gem of a record found later, the feeling had once again been chalked up to exhaustion and completely forgotten.
Before Beatrix knew it, the month of May had rolled around and with it came both hers and Charlie's twenty-third birthday. Even though seven days separated them, they celebrated together. It was just the way they did things, for as long as both women could remember.
That Sunday evening, Beatrix, Charlie and Trish were crammed into Charlie's Mini convertible, racing down the road towards Mary and Mike (affectionately called M by their daughters) and their inn. The epitome of a blended family, they proved that their love for one another ran deeper than blood. Although Mary was not Beatrix's biological mother, she was Charlie's. Mike joined the picture not long after Beatrix's mother disappeared and embraced the two girls as though they were his own. Two years later, after one marriage and two adoptions – although Beatrix kept her biological mother's last name out of respect for the woman who had tried her best raising her - the Fenn/Cormac family was complete.
The Starr Inn was nestled in the countryside, not too far from Newcastle. It had been a quaint yet isolated place to grow up and Beatrix couldn't wait to one day take over the reins from her parents. Neither sister minded the drive there; they knew the route like the back of their hand having travelled it so often. Sometimes though, as they drove through the city towards the country roads, there were some interesting sights to see, particularly at the weekend as hen parties and revellers made their way to the centre. This evening was no exception.
Looking passively out of the back window from the small backseat of the car, Beatrix perked up as she saw something unusual. People dressing up was a common sight in Newcastle but people dressing up historically was not so common. And there, standing in the middle of the road, was a woman who looked as though she had walked out of an eighteenth-century movie set. A long tattered skirt grazed the tarmac, shifting ever so slightly from the breeze. Squinting, Beatrix could just make out a faint floral pattern fading into the murky browns of the fabric. A torn bodice, partly hidden by a ridiculously large heart-shaped locket sat crookedly on her chest.
Beatrix frowned as the woman stood unnaturally still and stared at the car. Turning to Charlie and Trish, she commented on the strangeness of the woman. But when they turned back to look, the woman had disappeared. The road was empty of people, the pavement on either side devoid of life. Shrugging it off, Beatrix decided that the woman must have gone into one of the terraced houses that lined the street.
Now, it has been said that Beatrix Veronica Cormac lived a relatively mundane life for a twenty-three-year-old. This was true until one particular Saturday rolled around, about a month after her birthday. It had been anything but mundane.
Stumbling through the front door to her shared house, an exhausted Beatrix was greeted by Charlie and Trish cuddling on the sofa watching a film. Struggling with her shoes, she flopped down next to Charlie and rested her aching head on her sister's shoulder. The persistent throbbing that had started from the moment she had awoken that morning had only grown more insistent, more painful, throughout the day. Without a word, Trish went into the kitchen and rummaged around the cupboards.
"'Sup, Bee?" Charlie whispered as she gently stroked Beatrix's riotous ginger curls.
"Been one hell of a weird day," Beatrix whispered back, wincing as pain lanced through her temples.
"Here," Trish murmured, thrusting a packet of paracetamol at her and passing over a glass. Smiling in thanks, Beatrix popped two tablets and washed them down with a mouthful of water before passing it back. Once Trish settled back down on the sofa, Beatrix slumped over onto both women's laps. She really needed some sympathy and comfort after the day she'd just had.
"Go on then, weird how?" Charlie pressed, pausing the movie while her other hand went back to stroking Beatrix's hair.
Beatrix sighed heavily, eyes closing to block out the stabbing light. "Woke up with a headache this morning but honestly thought it would have gone by the time I got to work –"
"That's not weird," Charlie cut in, earning a shove and a whispered 'be quiet' in response from Trish. She always was the more sympathetic one of the two.
"Yeah well, that was the good part of my day," Beatrix continued, whispering hoarsely. "You ever seen a wild crab in the middle of Newcastle?"
"Can't say I have," Trish said softly as Charlie shook her head.
"Thought I could say the same but apparently not. Pretty sure I've seen one twice now. Think I should maybe go to the doctors in all honesty, these migraines are getting worse."
"Do you think it's a visual migraine?" Trish asked.
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders and snuggled further down into their laps. The gentle petting of her hair was sending her to sleep. "Could be. That'd explain the crabs at any rate."
"Or you could just be going crazy. Do we need to get you a therapist – ouch! Hey!" Charlie groused, rubbing her aching shoulder.
"Be nice," Trish warned, feeling unrepentant.
"Fine," Charlie muttered back childishly.
"Come on Bee, up you get. Sleep will help and you'll feel better by the morning," Trish whispered, pushing softly at the woman's slumped form.
Groaning lowly, Beatrix sat up, nausea making her stomach roll uncomfortably. Knowing that Trish was right, she shakily made her way to the stairs, whispering a fond goodnight to the concerned couple. Warmth filled her heart as they wished her a speedy recovery from her migraine.
It was only when she was snuggled in the comfort of her own bed that Beatrix thought back to the day she'd had. Guilt gnawed away at her, warring against her migraine. While she had been truthful about her visual migraines, there was a larger secret that she was keeping from her sister and Trish. She didn't think it would amount to anything, almost ninety per cent sure that it was related to her migraine, but the remaining ten per cent couldn't help but worry it might have been something more. The incessant feeling that somebody was watching her had crowded her all day. It had been weird and unsettling, keeping her on her toes but every time she looked around the bar she couldn't find the culprit.
If it happens again, Beatrix decided, then she would tell the girls, but until then, there was no point in worrying them.
Blowing out a puff of exasperated air, Beatrix closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would find her sooner rather than later and make her forget about the pain, if only for a little while.
Cross-posted on AO3 under the same username
As always, unedited because I'm awful at it! Let me know what you think!
Until next time x
P.s. if anyone fancies betaing for me, that would be wonderful and very much appreciated!