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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 19:03:48 GMT
It was very late, and the weather was atrocious, even for November, which explained why Mrs. Q was so startled by the frantic knocking at the large oak door to the house.
“Dear,” she called, warily, “I think there’s someone at the door...”
In the kitchen, where Mr. Q was making his cup of tea to take to bed, he paused. The frantic knock came again. Dropping his spoon, he tied the sash on his dressing gown decisively and made his way to the door. Carefully, and very slowly, he pulled it open.
Almost as if she’d been leaning on the door, a woman that was almost a stranger fell through onto him, near-sobbing.
“Tom! Oh God, I’m so sorry, there was nowhere else I could go, and... the kids...”
As he listened to the near hysteric woman talk, he glanced at her; she was A ramshackle. Her hair was wet from the rain, with dark roots showing over faded red hair, and she wasn’t wearing a coat – instead she had on a man’s shirt, clearly too big for her and faded to grey, a pair of soaking wet, shredded at the heel jeans, and a pair of sandals. In her arms, she held a child. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the night, were two more children, looking more soaked than she did. They wore raincoats, with the little hoods up, and looked very cautiously in on Mr. Q and their mother. Their cheeks were pink with cold and the hems of their coats dripped.
“Who is it, dear?” called Mrs. Q from the living room in the same voice. Mr. Q faltered, and looked at the woman again. The child in her arms was wrapped in a fleece. The woman’s arms were blue. Shaking his head in disbelief, he shifted her weight in his arms and turned his head to shout back to the living room,
“An old friend.”
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 19:18:29 GMT
The rain was cold and the travel had worn Charlotte down to a shivering bag of bones. Her teeth chattered as she opened her mouth. "Can we come in?"
She shifted the child in her arms and checked to make sure she was still breathing. They'd been outside for near three hours with nothing but what they wore and £52 left in her pocket. Last time she checked anyway.
"Please." she pleaded, knowing that she probably looked a little desperate but she didn't care. There was nobody else.
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 19:33:41 GMT
Tom's face softened and he nodded urgently, ushering Charlotte and the children into the hallway and shutting the door quickly behind them.
"Dear, will you stoke the fire please?" he called into the living room, glancing at the shivering family as he grimaced at the poor sight of them. He heard a tut from the living room; stoking the fire was normally his job, and Mrs Q resented picking up his slack, but he decided to deal with that later, crossing the large and open wooden hallway over to the linen cupboard and pulling out all of the spare blankets they kept from when Mrs. Q's mother had lived there. He hurried back over and draped one of them over Charlotte's shoulders, before crouching down and extending one each to both of the older children, as if an offering.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 20:19:44 GMT
Charlotte thanked Tom, wrapping the towel around both her and little June. She watched as Darryn and John carefully measured Tom before accepting the towels.
"Thank you," both of them said, making her smile. It was nice to see two sons being kind to this stranger.
"Thank you," Charlotte said again. The warmth was a welcoming gift all on its own. The fire and towels were a bonus that made her heart melt.
She sat down on the couch in the living room and took a more careful observation of June. She felt her skin, a little cold and the slight flush caused a stir of worry to start. 'Please don't,' she prayed as she lightly bounced her up and down in her arms.
Charlotte pulled her eyes away to smile at Tom generously. It had been a while since she'd seen him but he still looked as great as she remembered. "You're looking good Tom."
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 20:35:46 GMT
Tom smiled gently at her, sitting on the sofa opposite. The room was impossibly large and relatively dark - the deep red curtains that covered the whole of the south wall were drawn and Mrs. Q had withdrawn herself from the room almost the moment Tom and Charlotte had entered, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was late.
"I wish I could say the same," he said, standing and making his way over to the dying fire that Mrs. Q had stoked and throwing on more wood, causing it to flare up in a lively way. Now he watched Charlotte and her children, his dark features creased with worry. What could possibly have driven them here? It had been nearly 10 years and 400 miles since he'd seen her last.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 21:37:51 GMT
Charlotte gave a shy laugh. "Yeah, not one of my best days." She coddled June closer to her chest and shushed her as she began to stir. "I'm sorry to just turn up like this."
She noticed Darryn and John loitering in the doorway and invited them closer into the room. "Can they sit in front of the fire?"
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 21:50:31 GMT
Tom smiled.
"Of course they can. Come on boys, it gives off a wonderful warmth."
He beckoned the children over, trying to keep his movements gentle and unthreatening.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 22:03:07 GMT
Darryn shared a look with his brother before they settled themselves down onto the carpet. He rubbed his hands together and put them facing the fire palms forward facing. From his side, John did the same thing and he watched as the towel slipped from his brother's shoulders. He stretched over to pull it back up.
One thing he'd learnt as the older sibling was that his younger brother would always need him to look after him. It gave him a responsibilty that made him feel older than 12.
Charlotte smiled at her son's affectionate care for 7 year old John. "I mean it Tom," she called out. "Thank you. I don't know what I would've done."
She sighed and let out a shiver that still sat within her body. After a moment she took another look at June and smiled. The warmth was doing her good.
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 22:10:00 GMT
Tom smiled at the boys by the fire and then made his way back over to the other sofa, sitting down and leaning forward to examine Charlotte, as if looking at her for long enough would reveal all of her secrets.
"What happened?" he asked her softly, fixing his intense ocean-coloured eyes on hers.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 22:21:16 GMT
Charlotte met his ocean eyes with her own chocolate pair. She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. She couldn't speak. How could she? How could she tell him that her husband; Martin, wasn't the ideal partner. That he wasn't even the ideal father. How could she tell him that 400 miles away, Martin would be looking for her and the kids, angry that she'd up and left him.
"I-" her eyes gleamed over her sons and she sighed. "Is there a chance we could talk in the morning? I'd rather not tell you in front of them."
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 22:56:14 GMT
Tom's face crinkled into an expression of understanding as he nodded gently, looking across to the children again.
"Let me get you something warm. Tea?" he asked, standing and making his way to the kitchen.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 23:16:57 GMT
Charlotte nodded gratefully. "That'd be great. Please can the boys have something too?"
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 23:33:00 GMT
"Of course." Tom made his way into the kitchen and began busying himself around.
"What would you all like? Have you eaten recently?"
He frowned at the thought, phrasing his question carefully. They didn't look like they had eaten in days, if he were a man to hedge guesses.
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Post by PenguinNinja on May 16, 2012 23:37:44 GMT
Charlotte nodded her head even though she knew he wouldn't see her. "That would be lovely thank you. Could I have tea please, and maybe hot chocolate for the boys? I can repay for this if you'd like?"
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Post by Mr Spock on May 16, 2012 23:57:42 GMT
Tom laughed warmly in the kitchen, sticking his head back into the living room and shaking his head.
"Get that thought out of your mind. You're a friend, Charlotte, not a tenant."
He went back to the kitchen and rummaged around at the back of the cupboards to find his secret supply of hot chocolate; Mrs. Q didn't approve of drinks so sweet. He made a small mug for each of the boys and a sweet cup of tea for Charlotte, to steady her nerves, before crossing back out into the living room, placing Charlotte's in front of her. He then returned with the chocolate for the boys, handing it to them individually.
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