Chase Taylor K.

Scott
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 CHASE

Taylor K Scott

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Copyright 2024 Taylor K. Scott

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written
permission of the author.

Warning: The following work of fiction describes content of a sexual nature. It also discusses sensitive themes including
violence and mental health issues. See Author’s Note for more information.
 DEDICATION
I remember when I was fifteen, crying in my room, with my hands cracked and bloody, because my OCD just wouldn’t let me
rest. I was terrified of someone finding me like this, so scared I would be shouted at for being ‘nuts’. During my meltdown, I
heard a gentle pat-patting at my bedroom door. I opened it to find Bronwyn, the family border collie, wagging her tail, her ears
laid flat, and concern behind her beautiful brown eyes. She softly shuffled inside, waited for me to close the door, then nuzzled
her nose into the crook of my neck. She let me cry while I held her close. She listened without judgement, loved without
wanting, and saw me through some of the darkest times of my life.
To my darling fur baby, Bronwyn, this story is dedicated to you and all the other ‘Stella’s who now reside at Rainbow Bridge.
Musical Influences

I’ll Stand by You – The Pretenders

 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to the community of writers and readers out there who have answered questions, read my work, given me
advice, and shared my work. Thank you to all of you!
To my beta readers, Liz Rogers, Freya Martin, Charlotte Mieu, Phoebe Black, and Mama Sue, who all took the time to
read this book during the early stages. Just to have someone read my work and offer their opinion is always so empowering
for me. I sincerely appreciate you offering me your time, support, and advice.
I must also thank my poor, suffering husband for supporting me through my obsession with writing. Not only has he had
to live with my reading habit, which is becoming more and more consuming, but also has the added bonus of losing me to my
own works of fiction. Know that I love you dearly, as well as our two beautiful girls, and appreciate all the encouragement
you have given me.
Finally, but most importantly, thanks to everyone who has taken a chance on my novel. I hope it hasn’t disappointed,
and that you might take a chance to read some of my upcoming releases. Thank you so much again.
 Author’s Note

The ‘Reawakened’ trilogy contains scenes that may be hard to read and may trigger some people. They include scenes of
sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. ‘Chase’ looks closely at family relationships, and includes themes of infertility,
infidelity, and abandonment. I have no intention of offending anyone or any culture.
This series has a major theme of mental health running through it, including depression, abuse, bullying, anxiety and PTSD.
 Prologue
Theo
You can’t choose who your family are.
That’s what they say, and for some people, it’s a perfectly valid statement. But for kids like me, it’s not entirely
accurate. I was chosen. You see, my folks went through the painfully long-winded process of adopting me before I had even
taken my first breath.
Wyatt and Frances Chase had already tried the traditional route of having a child, but when no positive sign appeared
on that pregnancy stick after over a year, they conceded that further testing would need to be done. Two rounds of IVF later, and
still no baby. So they decided to offer their home, love, and family, to a kid who wasn’t wanted. A kid like me.
The only stipulation my birth mother had made at the time of adoption was that I never be told the real names of my
biological parents. This might sound like a heartless demand, but from what little Wyatt and Frances have told me, it was one
made from a place of love. Apparently, my father was a violent man who dabbled in shady activities, whereas my mother was
much too young to have been doing what one needs to do in order to have an unwanted pregnancy. With this in mind, she
decided she wanted me to be completely immersed in a new loving family and to have no connection to my sad beginnings. I
respect her for this. In fact, I thank her for it.
My mother originally came from a traditional Spanish family who insisted you attend church every Sunday, even if
you’re leg was hanging off and your heart was threatening to give out. Sex was for the marriage bed and your elders always
had the last word. Being a little rebellious, she had met an American tourist at a beach party during one particularly hot
summer in Andalucia. As well as being rebellious, she was also young and naïve; she fell in love quickly. It therefore hadn’t
taken much persuading to convince her to move to America, without her family’s knowledge. Passport, I hear you say? No
need when you’re the type of guy my father was. Speaking of, back on home soil, my sperm donor revealed what a thug he
really was. But it was too late for regrets or second-guessing, for she was already pregnant and with nothing to her name other
than fraudulent documents and a case full of beach clothes.
After hearing her sad tale, the Wyatts had offered to pay for my birth mother to travel back home; they even reached out
to help her get back into contact with her family. But as soon as I was born and signed over to my adoptive parents, she
vanished, as did my biological father. I like to think she did get back to her family, thus escaping the abusive bastard, but I
guess I’ll never know.
Back to my life and I can assure you it had been practically picture perfect. I lived in a beautiful house that sat a stone’s
throw away from the beach, otherwise known as my playground. My uncle, from my mother’s side, taught me how to surf,
whereas my parents taught me everything I needed to know about giving and accepting love. I was a happy, contented kid with
great friends, great family, and a great life. I was truly blessed.
That was until I was about ten years old. But two months after my tenth birthday, we had to move to England. To say I
was gutted is an understatement. I didn’t want to leave all the things that I loved so much in California; I wanted to stay where I
was happy to wake up every morning. I even loved getting up for school every day, because that’s where my friends were, my
favorite teachers, and my home.
However, Dad was the guy who brought home the money to pay for this entitled lifestyle, so if his job was telling him
to move halfway across the world, then that’s what he had to do. I knew this, I really did, but I still let them know how pissed
off I was about it all. I was about as delightful as one would expect a pre-teen to be when faced with such an upheaval.
It was my mother who eventually had me conceding to accept what I couldn’t change, like it always was. Frances
Chase was, and still is, the best of mothers, even though life had decided she could never have a child of her own. She knew
how to calm the storm within me, knew how to soothe my fears, and could always turn a potential tragedy into an opportunity. I
love her more than words can say, and I know she feels the same about me. It might be selfish of me to say, but I’m almost glad
she was unable to have a baby of her own; if she had, I might never have got to call her my mother.
So, against every natural instinct screaming at me to stay put, even if it meant living in a cardboard box on the beach, I
boarded a plane for England with my parents.
And thank God I did. Getting on that plane led me to her. Moving away from everything that I held close to my heart,
brought me to the girl who would one day own it.
Unfortunately for her, she didn’t get to choose her family.
Neither did they.
 Chapter 1

Present
Max
“I think I see her, boss,” I tell a guy I’ve never met before through the hands-free. “Between the old photograph you
sent, and the barman pointing her out, I am virtually certain it’s her. What do you want me to do?”
“Send me a picture to be sure,” he huffs with a no-nonsense tone of voice. His American accent has me rolling my eyes
over how arrogant this guy sounds. I bet he’s in some high-rise office with a crystal-cut glass of scotch and a view of the entire
city in front of him.
“Er, no can do,” I reply with a wince, knowing how unprofessional this is going to sound, “my camera’s broken.”
The next minute is consumed by this jumped-up suit effing and jeffing at me, plus a few more expletives I’ve never even
heard of before. I could try to explain that my girlfriend, Cheryl, had busted up my phone only moments before I came out
tonight, but honestly, what difference would it make? The supposed love-of-my-life had been a little angry over my having to
work tonight, not that she’ll mind spending the money I’ll get for a mere few hours of easy grafting.
“Sorry, boss, what?” I ask dumbly when I realize he’s been going on without me having listened to a single word.
“Just watch her, can you manage that?” he snaps, sounding completely exasperated by my incompetence. “Try and get
close enough so I can hear, or at least so you can narrate for me. For fuck’s sake!”
“Why am I tailing her anyway?” I ask, which probably isn’t the wisest of things to say, but I like to know a bit about
who I’m watching. Mum always did say I was far too nosey for my own good.
“None of your fucking concern, asshole,” he replies, which was pretty much the answer I was expecting. “Just do what
I’m paying you for.”
“Ok. So, she’s leaning over the bar talking to the barman; they must know each other because they’re chatting and he’s
laughing with her. She’s wearing tight jeans and a black satin vest, heels, and her hair’s all curly down her back. She’s…
she’s…”
“She’s what? Choose your words very carefully,” he says, sounding extremely constipated and pissed off about this girl
being all dressed up for others to see.
“Well, she’s fucking hot, Boss. There’s a big group of guys ogling her as we speak. They ain’t hiding it neither.”
“Get closer, I want to hear,” he orders, sounding more and more frustrated.
Acting on his instruction, I saunter up to the bar and sit on the stool nearest to hers. The blaring music in this place
makes it hard to hear anything, so I’m not too sure how successful I’m going to be, but I’ll still do as I’m told. She finishes her
chat with the barman, then turns to face both me and the group of guys. They all whistle and shout as soon as they get a good
look at her face; she’s stunning!
“What?” she growls, placing her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, darlin’,” the cockiest-looking shit of them all says as walks towards her, “we were all placing bets to see if the
front was as fuckable as the back. We’re pleased to say, hell to the yes, it is! So, which one of us takes your fancy? Cos quite
frankly, you can have your pick.”
“No thank you,” she replies with a scowl on her face, then takes a gulp from her beer bottle.
“Oh, come on, love,” he says as he slides up real close to her. “See Richie over there?”
He uses his bottle to point to a guy who is slouching on the sofa. Richie lifts his bottle in greeting at the same time as
giving her a cheeky wink. Smooth!
“Well, he’s currently nursing a broken heart. His girlfriend of three years has just moved to Australia,” he says while I
bite my lips together over the audacity of this guy. “Maybe you could cheer him up…if you know what I mean!”
 “Sure, I know what you mean, as subtle as you’re being,” she says, putting her bottle on top of the bar. “And as amazing
as an opportunity to drop my knickers for some guy who’s going to be picturing his long-term girlfriend all night is, I’m going
to give Richie a firm pass.”
She gifts him and Richie a fake smile that lasts all of two seconds, then begins to walk away. However, before she’s
even taken her third step, the guy grabs hold of her arm and pulls back.
“Darlin’, you can’t dress like that and not expect dick; I mean, come on!” His friends all burst out laughing, all the
while she looks more and more like a volcano that’s getting ready to violently explode.
“Do you need me to intervene, Boss? He just grabbed her arm,” I tell him, my fingers already feeling itchy to hit this
tool in the face. Before the boss can even say a word in response, she begins to give this guy a verbal slap, which I am totally
down for hearing.
“Maybe I am, but it doesn’t mean I want your diseased dick, does it?” she says matter of factly. “And if you don’t let go
of me, I will motherfucking pepper spray you so much, you’ll be screaming for your mummy. I can dress how I please and I
can do it without flaccid little prinks like you thinking you have entitlements. Now, kindly fuck off!”
All signs of his earlier mirth are instantly wiped from his face by her lashing of words. He looks furious, to the point
where he might try to become physical. But surprisingly, he lets go. His teeth remain clenched, but he says nothing more. She
then walks away, flipping him the bird over her shoulder. I can’t help but smirk to myself. This girl has balls, perhaps too big
for her own good. Alas, although the prick more than deserved it, things could easily have turned ugly for her.
I watch her for another hour or two, sometimes having to sit on my hands to stop myself from getting involved. She
moves around the club, flirting with plenty of guys, even dancing way too provocatively with a few, only to tell them to get lost
when they suggest something more than just dancing. To put it bluntly, this girl is professional dick tease. I’m not even sure
which part she enjoys more, the attention or getting to turn them all down. And when she’s not with a guy, she’s alone. No
friends or acquaintances; this is a lone sport for her. The boss hears all of it, either from my narrating the scene or hearing some
of it from the girl herself. He tells me to stick close but to maintain some distance; I’m only to get involved if she is physically
threatened. I guess we were both lucky tonight.
Eventually, she makes a move to leave, so I surreptitiously walk towards the exit, calling the boss again as I do so. He
answers when I near the exit, the fresh air already making me breathe more easily. She’s still in my line of sight and I notice
her slipping on a black hoodie before she gets ready to exit onto the street.
“She’s leaving, what do you want me to do?” I ask the boss.
“Just make sure she gets home alright and then you can go,” he says, but before I can reply, she’s suddenly all up in my
face, making me jump in surprise.
“Who the fuck are you and why the hell have you been watching me all night?”
While I internalize a torrent of curses, the boss is telling me to keep the line open so he can keep listening.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her at the same time as I hold my hands up in surrender. “I’m just out for
a drink.”
“Oh, please, I may be dressed provocatively, but it doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” she tuts, standing back so she can cross
her arms. “Is it my father or my psychotic big brother who you’re talking to on the phone there? Gotta say, they’ve not pulled
this sort of shit in a little while, but perhaps they have some deal going down. Whatever it is, stop following me and tell them
to back the fuck off!”
Lost for words, I can only frown to try and show her I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about. Not that she sticks
around for that long before turning around and stomping away down the street.
“Did you get that, Boss?”
“Mmm,” is all he says. “Is she safe?”
“Aha, getting into a taxi as we speak,” I inform him as I watch her duck down into a licensed car.
“You may go; thank you, Max,” he replies and hangs up.
This was the strangest night’s work I’ve had in a long time. Not complaining though, she was easy to look at.
 Chapter 2
Theo 10 years old
Izzy 8 years old

Theo
So far, England is shaping up to be worse than the one time the folks and I went camping. We lasted half the evening
before packing up and returning home in the middle of a cold and stormy night. Alas, I don’t think we’re going to be giving in
that easily, even with me refusing to hold back my extremely poor opinion of this place. It’s freezing, drizzling, and grey
outside. A complete contrast to home.
If I was there now, I’d be hanging out with my buddies on the beach, maybe catching a few waves, maybe lounging
around the bars scoring a soda or two off the local bartenders. Now I’m stuck in a grey Volvo watching wet field after wet
field pass me by. Dad is trying to instill me with fake enthusiasm, Mom is trying her best to look and sound positive, whereas
I’m sulking in the back with a barely touched sandwich that tastes as good as the weather looks.
Dad’s only acting over the top excited because we’re going to be living near his older brother, Craig Chase, as well as
his ‘sinfully boring wife’, Alex. I say ‘acting’ because in the ten years of my life that I’ve been living with the Chases, they
must have mentioned Dad’s brother and his family a handful of times. I’ve met them even less so; once when I was a baby, and
then again, a few years ago. They have one irritating daughter called Matilda and another younger daughter, Isobel. I can’t say
I remember much about Isobel because she was only four when I saw her last, and she had clung to our grandmother the entire
time. Matilda, however, who happens to be the same age as me, was spoiled and extremely loud. There’s also an older brother
whom I’ve never met, called Ethan.
The only saving grace is my grandma, who also lives nearby. Again, we don’t get to spend much time with her, but
when we do, I’m always pleased to see her. She’s the only sane one in our family and she talks to me like an adult instead of
some kid who needs to be handled with safety gloves. Much like me, she’s very quiet, taking everything in without going on
about it. I’m usually overlooked by adults because I people-watch instead of getting involved. Everyone sees me as a mild-
mannered, polite young boy, which I more than know how to manipulate to ensure I am left alone as much as possible. Except
when it comes to Matilda. She had stuck to me like glue; I sincerely hope she’s outgrown that aspect of her personality.
Uncle Craig’s home is pretty big for an English house. It’s still raining outside but you can see the yard is professionally
landscaped and the building, though old, is well maintained. Its grandeur isn’t enough to lighten my mood, however, so I slump
against the back seat of the car and release a long sigh while Dad gets out to grab a few things from the trunk.
“Come on, sweetie,” Mom says sympathetically, “I’m sure Matilda has grown up a lot since you last saw her. Besides,
we’ll be in our own place tonight.” Her words of reassurance are unconvincing, which I more than let her know when I release
yet another exaggerated sigh. “Your dad hasn’t seen his brother in years, Theo, and he’s already feeling anxious about it. He
needs us, so please cheer up, for his sake?” I put on my best fake smile for her, to which she grins and pinches my cheek.
“Thatta boy!”
When Dad gives us the thumbs up from the rainy front door, we give each other one last look, then get out and run over
to meet him. Mom offers him a comforting rub on the back before he finally lifts the iron knocker to bang against the wood
panel. A rumble of activity ensues from behind the thick door. My parents, once again, look at each other for reassurance,
though neither appears particularly convinced by the other. Mom even mouths, ‘Are you ok?’ to my dad, to which he shuts his
eyes and nods. I’m about to question them on it, but the door is thrown open, and the shock of it has me forgetting whatever
words I had formed inside of my head.
“Hey, brother!” Craig beams, looking like a used car salesman who is about to rip you off. My father pastes on a fake
smile, as does Mom. Both look like they’ll be nursing sore cheeks tonight, for their awkward grins are that wide. Craig, who
pretends to ignore the discomfort, holds out his hands to invite his brother in for a hug.
“Come in, come in, it’s hideous out there. Frances, how are you?” He kisses my mom awkwardly on the cheek, to
which she smiles nervously. “Looking just as lovely as the last time I saw you.”
She blushes and tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.
“I’m good, thank you, Craig. Where’s Alex?” Mom replies, her American accent sounding stark against Craig’s strong
English posh dialect. “Oh, there she is, hello, Alex.”
 A woman with a short, sharp, dyed blonde bob approaches my mother with a fake smile and a face caked in make-up. I
immediately pick up an unfriendly vibe from her, even when she routinely kisses my mother on the cheek. She greets my father
in much the same way, almost grimacing over the contact. I remain observing them all with curiosity, hovering to the side in the
hopes they might miss me out altogether.
“Theodore! My, my, my, look how you’ve grown!” I cannot help but roll my eyes over the cliché greeting adults give to
kids when they haven’t seen them in a while. That and the fact that people like this always insist on calling me by my full name,
even though I sign all Christmas and birthday cards with just ‘Theo’.
“Hello, Uncle Craig,” I utter politely, “Aunt Alex.”
“Actually, it’s just Theo,” my mother corrects him. Not that Craig or Alex seem to take any notice, they’re too busy
studying me like some sort of weird pet my parents picked up from a hairy guy who breeds reptiles with arachnids.
“My, you’re a handsome one, wait until Tilly clocks eyes on you,” Alex laughs.
“Now, just you watch yourself, son, she’s very impressionable,” Craig tries to tease me, even laughing over his own
joke. Yeah, you don’t need to worry about me with Tilly, Uncle Craig, trust me.
Fortunately, this awkward conversation is stopped short when we reach the living room, which has been set up for tea.
They’ve put on a pretty good spread of sandwiches that have been cut into minute triangles with a thin layer of filling, cakes
with too much icing, random chips and dips, and raw vegetables. Of course, the obligatory tea and coffee question comes up,
and I’m asked if I wish to have a glass of elderflower cordial. From past experience, I decide to just stick with water.
It’s only when Uncle Craig leaves that I notice Grandma sitting quietly in the corner of the room, perched in an old
armchair like she’s a part of the furniture. My pinched-face aunt practically shouts at her when asking if she would like another
cup of tea. Grandma simply smiles and raises her hand to say no more. She catches my eye and grins, prompting me to smile
back at her. She gives me a little wave and I instantly want to go to her, however, a girlish whiney voice interrupts my first
footfalls.
“But I wanted to show him up to my bedroom first,” the voice says. “Mother, you ruin everything!”
“Now, now, Tilly, he’s here all afternoon and I’m sure he’s very tired and hungry after such a long flight,” Alex says
warmly to her spoiled daughter. I look at Grandma with trepidation, but she remains tight-lipped. A mere moment later, she
ushers me to her, so without any further encouragement needed, I move as quickly as my legs will carry me, planting a relieved
kiss on her wrinkled cheek as soon as I reach her.
“Hi, Grandma,” I say quietly, “I’ve missed you.”
She came over to America two years ago, but the flight was too much for her arthritis and lupus, so it was agreed that it
would be her last time. She’s the one thing I’ve looked forward to ever since Dad told us about the move.
“I’ve missed you too, Theo,” she says as she places her frail hand over my arm. “How are things in California? I bet
you’re missing it already.”
“Just a bit,” I admit, “but I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. Are you well?”
“I’m hanging in there,” she says with a secret wink for me. “Maybe we can catch up on all the American gossip later;
perhaps when there isn’t such a crowded room.”
“Sure, I’d like that,” I reply, just before I’m pulled away to meet the whiny voice from before.
“You remember Tilly, don’t you?” Dad pushes me toward a girl with tight brunette ringlets which have all been pulled
back into a ponytail. I can’t help but study all her imperfections; they scream at me to ignore the attempts to beautify herself
with her bright pink dress, sparkly tights, and small heels, and to instead, remember how awful she is to everyone. She looks
like she’s about to go to a school dance, which only has me feeling all the more uneasy.
“Hi, Theo,” she gushes while twirling a lock of her hair around her fingers, “do you wanna come and see my room?”
“Er, hi, Tilly,” I reply, trying my best not to look horrified over the suggestion. “Erm, I’m not allowed in girls’ rooms.
And I’m kind of talking to Grandma at the moment.”
“Don’t be silly,” Dad says unhelpfully at the same time as he slaps me on the back. “She’s your cousin, no need to be so
shy.”
He’s rewarded with my best death glare, but he just laughs at my expense. Tilly takes the opportunity to grab my hand,
but luckily, Grandma comes through for me.
“Theo,” she says in her best frail old lady voice, “do be a dear and come and tell me how to use this phone. I have no
idea how to work these things and I bet a ten-year-old boy can show me.”
I love you, Grandma. If you ever need to live with me when I’m older, I’m your guy!
I shrug theatrically before walking back over to her, ignoring Tilly crossing her arms and stamping her foot in
Grandma’s direction.
“I love you, Grandma,” I utter before kissing her cheek again. “You have no idea how much. I officially owe you one.”
“ISOBEL!” Everyone turns markedly silent at the sound of Alex screaming her daughter’s name from the direction of
the other room. “What on earth have you been doing? You are covered in mud!”
Before anyone can say a word about this turn of events, Tilly breaks into a run toward the other room, her dress rustling
as she goes. My parents look at one another with fearful expressions, while Grandma shuffles a little inside of her seat.
“That’s my dress, you little witch! Why is it covered in filth?” Tilly yells at the top of her voice. “Mummy, tell her off;
she’s ruined my favorite dress!”
Considering the fact that her sister is at least two years younger than her, I highly doubt the dress she’s wearing even fits
Tilly anymore. I also know that Tilly, darling, won’t have even let her sister look at an item of clothing she remotely cared
about, let alone wear it. I suspect this is just an excuse to torture Isobel and to grab some attention in the process. She continues
this farce by pretending to cry so loudly, I look at Grandma in horror. She winks at me again, but I can see the slight way in
which her shoulders are shuddering up and down, giggling silently to herself. It puts me a little more at ease, though I still think
this family is absolutely nuts.
“Your uncle, aunt and cousin are over from America, for goodness sake! Not to mention your grandmother is here and
you look like…like this! What the hell am I going to do with you?” Alex screams at her daughter. Given Grandma’s reaction, I
would hazard a guess that this happens frequently, which is strange considering how much she fusses over Tilly.
“What the…Oh, Isobel!” Uncle Craig joins in, moaning to himself over the state of his youngest. I must admit, I am
highly intrigued as to what we’ll find when Isobel finally shows herself. “Can’t you for once just-”
“Look, this isn’t my fault, trust me,” a girl’s lispy voice begins, sounding surprisingly confident and calm. “So, I was
out in the woods-”
“Why the hell were you out in the woods when you knew we were expecting company? In your sister’s dress no less!”
Her mother sounds like she’s walked out of the Victorian times and is about to have a fainting spell that only a trip to the
seaside will cure.
“Let’s just say I was there and move on from it,” Isobel says, prompting Grandma to release a little voiced laugh, which
has me smiling. “So, anyway, this old guy is doing his nut, having a real hissy fit whilst pointing at the pond where all the old
geezers play with those remote-controlled boats. He’s yelling bloody murder, shouting, ‘My fucking dog, my stupid shit-for-
brains dog!’”
“ISOBEL,” Craig yells, “don’t use such foul language. Everyone can hear you!”
“Jeez, Dad, I didn’t say them, the old man did,” she argues, to which I can’t help but start laughing alongside Grandma.
Even Mom is trying to cover up her grin with her hand. “So, this dog is stuck in the middle of Fenton Pond; I thought the poor
thing was going to drown. The old man was of no use, so I jumped in and waded over to him. I grabbed hold of the mutt, who
gripped onto me for dear life, then I pulled him back to his owner.”
“Do you expect us to believe that, Isobel?” Tilly asks with contempt dripping from her every word.
“Look, I have the pound the old guy gave me to say thanks,” Isobel replies proudly. “Besides, I don’t really care what
you think, Tilly. You still think you poop rainbows and actually look good in sparkly tights. Just so you know, you look like
you should be in a Christmas panto.”
Grandma and I can’t help but laugh out loud; this girl is hilarious, albeit a bit whacky like the rest of this family. It’s a
pity they can’t see the funny side. Though from the look on Dad’s face, neither can he.
“Mother! Theo!” Dad snaps at us when we begin laughing, forcing us to cover our mouths and look cheekily at one
another.
 “That’s it, young lady, up to your room…No, wait!” Uncle Craig shouts before the sound of shuffling feet brings him
and the young girl into the room. She stands unapologetically in front of us with long, wavy blonde hair, mud all over her
purple, frilly dress, and a mixture of adult teeth, baby teeth, and gaps in her smile. She’s very pretty and reminds me of
Grandma. “First, you can apologize to everyone for your appalling language.”
She initially grins and waves over in our direction before saying, “Hi, Nonna.” Grandma waves back but tries to look
somber as she does so. Craig glares at his mother as though she has wronged him somehow, the sight of which has me feeling
the urge to kick him. Hard.
“Well? We’re waiting, Isobel,” he says, staring down at his daughter, seemingly trying to intimidate her with his height
and broad shoulders.
“Oh, right,” she utters before pulling her face into a contrite expression, folding her hands in front of her muddy dress,
and placing her feet together. She’s had to do this many times before; she’s too well-rehearsed not to have done. “I am very
sorry, everyone, it was very rude of me to use appalling language. ‘Fucking’ and ‘shit’ are not polite words to use in civilized
company.”
Mom ends up with tears in her eyes after she’s bursts into laughter, giving way for Grandma and me to laugh out loud
too.
“Say goodnight, Isobel,” Alex positively growls, breaking up her usual neutral expression that has her looking
constipated most of the time.
“It’s half past three in the afternoon!” Isobel tries to argue. “Besides, you don’t tell Ethan off for playing Grand Theft
Auto. Do you know how he gets points for that game? I’ve seen him, he humps the prostitutes and beats people to death!”
“Don’t bring your brother into this; Ethan works very hard at school, so he’s allowed some downtime. And you
shouldn’t be spying on him,” her mother argues as she takes hold of Isobel’s wrist to drag her away.
“Goodnight, Isobel,” Tilly says with a smugness that turns my stomach, wriggling her fingers in a goodbye gesture and a
smile on her face.
“Goodnight, Tilly, hope you don’t grow as ugly as your personality!” Isobel says as she breaks free of her mother’s
grip. Craig tries to grab her arm again, but she nimbly dives out of the way. “I’m going, Jeez!” she huffs but looks over toward
me and Grandma before she leaves. “Bye, Nonna, come see me.”
Pity, she seemed like the only interesting one in here, besides Grandma of course.
_____
Theo
After what feels like days of listening to never-ending updates on the state of the family business, which is run by Craig,
as well as Tilly’s dancing competitions and Ethan’s stellar grades at school, I’m then forced to go up and see Tilly’s extremely
pink room. She begins to show me all her medals and cups, plus the sequined outfits she wore for each and every dance. It’s
not my kind of thing, but Mom taught me to always show interest, even when I’m not, so I try to think of anything to try and
cover up how uninterested I am. Thankfully, after about the eighth costume, something catches her eye, a broken ornament that
has her running off while screaming at the top of her voice. She shouts at her mother, the whole time blaming her younger sister
for the damaged China doll. Alex and Craig try to placate her by telling her they’ll buy her a new one, but it doesn’t stop the
volume of her cries or her over-the-top tantrum.
“What the hell are you doing in my sister’s room? You a fucking pervert or something?”
The scornful voice comes from a boy of about thirteen or fourteen, his face set in an angry scowl while he leans against
what I assume is his bedroom door. He looks a lot like Tilly, but with a voice that sounds somewhere between boy and man.
When I look up at him, I remain expressionless, purposefully offering him nothing. This is my usual go-to when I don’t want to
deal with confrontation or intimidation; it’s easier this way. He seems dissatisfied with this reaction, so closes the gap
between us.
“Stay the fuck away from her, you little shit,” he practically spits, digging his fingers into my chest and towering over
me. At my silence, he glares before stalking back into the pitch-black confines of his room. This household is crazy; surely it
must be time to go soon.
Sighing with an urge to run back to the Volvo outside, I lean against the wall in the hallway, willing myself to leave
before Tilly returns. As I close my eyes over the thought of having to endure seeing more of Tilly’s dance ensemble, quiet
voices catch my attention. They’re coming from one of the other bedrooms and I can’t help but creep up to have a listen. I
peek in through the gap between the door and the wall to see Isobel lying on her bed next to Grandma. Her room doesn’t have
a hint of pink; in fact, it’s absent of any color or nick-knacks. It has very little personality other than the girl to whom it belongs.
She’s currently holding an old, well-loved bear, and is tufting its hair up this way and that.
“Tell me something else,” she says to Grandma, “something I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, did you know that I once hitch-hiked to London with our family dog, Florence? I was about your age at the time,
and I wanted to escape my father; he was quite a brute, you know, always shouting, always angry. Whereas I was the black
sheep of the family.”
“Fair play, Nonna,” Isobel says, sounding clearly impressed. “What happened?”
“Daddy caught up with me and I was smacked across the backside before being confined to my room for three days!
After that, I was on maid duty for about three weeks,” she replies, looking at Isobel with a sorrowful expression. But then she
smiles in such a way, she looks positively devious; this is why I love her so much. “Course, I always spit up in his meals and
drinks. It used to give me great satisfaction to know what he was ingesting whenever he ate.” She and Isobel begin to giggle
wickedly. “Why do you think they treat you differently, Izzy, dear?”
“Guess they already had one of each,” Isobel replies nonchalantly, still playing with the old fluff on her poor teddy. “I
was a mistake don’t you know?”
“Who told you that?” Grandma asks, sounding shocked and angrier than I’ve ever heard her. To be fair, I don’t think
I’ve ever heard her sound at all cross before.
“I overheard Mum telling Brenda, Libby’s mum. Besides,” she says with a shrug, “it’s obvious. I’m fine with it though.”
“Oh?” Grandma asks, looking in such a way, I can tell Izzy is her favorite.
“Well, if you were the black sheep, like me, then hopefully, I’ll turn out as cool as you, Nonna.” She smiles as she stops
fidgeting with the bear and looks Grandma in the eye. “You’re my favorite person.”
“I love you, Izzy, my girl,” Grandma says as she cuddles into her. “You’re one of my favorite people too.” They grin at
one another and sit in silence for a few moments, appearing to be very much content to be in one another’s company. “Don’t
look now, but I think your American cousin has been listening in. Do you think he wants to come in and join us?”
I turn statue still as I feel a hot blush creeping over my cheeks at being caught out. Usually, people don’t notice me, but I
should have known Grandma would have caught onto my eavesdropping.
“My cousin? Oh, he can come if he wants to,” she says, sounding friendly enough, but then drops her voice to a
whisper, “As long as he’s not like Tilly or Ethan?”
“No, dear, Theo is not a bit like your brother or sister,” Grandma reassures her, allowing some feeling to return to my
extremities in relief.
“Oh, good. Come in, Theo,” she calls, but my limbs still won’t move, so I remain frozen on the spot.
“I think you may have embarrassed him,” Grandma chuckles.
“Probably,” she shrugs, “I embarrass everyone.”
“You don’t embarrass me, lass,” Grandma says determinedly. “I think you’re great, kid.”
I’m about to take a brave step and walk in when Mom calls for me. My heart sinks but when I move, it’s to rush down
the stairs to my mom. I feel disappointed in myself all the way to our new house, but there’s always tomorrow. I’d like to think
I can be the friend Isobel so obviously needs in this family.
_____
Izzy
“Where are you going, Isobel?” Mum asks with a more than usual fed-up voice that she uses whenever she speaks to
me; she’s clearly still cross about Tilly’s ugly dress. “I hope you realize how disappointed we were with you yesterday.”
“Mum, you and Dad are always disappointed with me,” I answer truthfully as I shove my breakfast bowl inside of the
dishwasher. “Perhaps you should ask me if I realise when you are actually happy with me. That would be weird.”
 “That’s not true, Isobel,” Dad pipes up from the table, “but you can’t behave like that and not expect us to be angry
about it.”
“Whatever, can I go now? Mary is waiting for me and we’re going for a ramble around the woods,” I declare. Mary is
a selective mute and has only uttered a few words to me in our entire friendship, but we get by with signing and gesture.
“When are you going to get some real friends instead of mucking about with the local freak?” Tilly says with disdain in
her voice.
“Maybe when you develop a conscience,” I reply with a shrug, “or maybe when you get some friends who aren’t all as
self-absorbed as you are?”
“Brat,” she mutters.
“Yep,” I give in and just agree, it’s easier that way. I notice Mum and Dad don’t attempt to say anything to Tilly for her
name-calling, but I guess I’m used to that too.
“Where’s my lip gloss, Mummy?” she titters, shoving things out of the way without care as she searches high and low
for it.
I roll my eyes while I put on my old boots, preparing for a day-long adventure that will keep me safely out of the house
until at least dinner time. I prepared a packed lunch last night so I wouldn’t have to come back again. I’d only end up in an
argument with somebody if I returned early, an argument I’d rather avoid.
“I’m not sure, darling, why do you need lip gloss anyway?”
“I wanted to go and see if Theo would like to have a tour of the village,” she gushes, “and I want to look nice for him.”
“Gross, isn’t Theo our cousin?” I can’t help but ask with a grimace on my face.
“Well, yes, but not by blood,” Dad explains, “your aunt can’t have children, so they adopted him when he was a baby.”
“Oh,” I sigh as I get to my feet, “still, I doubt he’d be interested in you!”
“Isobel, don’t be horrible to your sister,” Mum snaps and glares at me. “Go and do whatever it is you plan on doing
with your mute friend.”
Charming, Mother, really. But I don’t need to be told twice to get out of here. Without another word that would no
doubt get me into trouble, I wrap my waterproof jacket around me and take off through the door.
By mid-morning, Mary and I are sitting on the small wooden bridge that crosses over a stream that runs between the
playing field and the woods. The wooden slats are damp beneath our legs, but it doesn’t bother us, we’re used to being
outside. Me, because I always want to avoid being at home; her, because she lives on a farm. Her entire family is usually
outside. The rain has made the water rise so we have collected a good selection of twigs with which to play Pooh sticks.
Though, to be fair, we’re not playing properly, more like dangling our legs over the side and gazing at the wood as it floats
away from where we’re sitting.
When the sun begins to slip below the trees, Mary taps me on the shoulder to signal that she needs to go. I smile and
wave, then watch as she disappears into the background. This means I’ll need to go back soon and face whatever is waiting for
me at home. I sigh as I continue to throw the sticks into the water, watching as some of them get tangled up on the side of the
bank.
“What are you doing?” a voice asks before crouching down next to me. I look up to see the boy who was hiding
outside my room last night. I think about calling him out on it, but eventually give up on the idea; it would only make him
defensive.
“Playing Pooh sticks,” I reply with an awkward shrug. “Or not, now that Mary has gone.”
“Huh. Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asks, to which I look him up and down with a frown.
“You kind of already are, but sure,” I reply with a friendly enough smile. “Theo, isn’t it?”
He nods silently while gazing down at the swirling water. “And you’re Isobel?”
“No, not Isobel, Izzy,” I assert. “Only my family calls me Isobel. Though, my brother doesn’t really call me anything.
I’m guessing you saw how crazy we all were yesterday.”
 “Kind of,” he laughs. “Actually, you seem to be the only normal one in there. And Grandma is keen on you, so I guess
you must be ok.”
“Gee, thanks. Do you wanna Twiglet?” I ask, offering him the nearly empty bag of crispy snacks. Being made with
Marmite, he’s fifty percent likely to hate them. He takes a sniff, grimaces, then takes one. I jut out my chin to encourage him,
almost laughing over the reaction I can already guess he’ll have.
“What the hell are those?” he gasps, spitting it out with a look of pure disgust on his face.
“Twiglets, they’re my favorite!” I laugh.
“Well, you can keep them. Ew, they taste like…like…like ass!”
I burst into laughter and he soon joins me at the same time as making himself at home on the edge of the bridge. We
settle into comfortable silence, and I can already tell he’s a good one.
“You’ve come over from California, haven’t you?” I ask, but he just sadly nods. “And you’ve had to relocate here?
That must suck.” Again, he nods.
“Probably would have been surfing right about now,” he says, looking at the sky when it starts to drizzle; it’s as if the
weather is trying to rub the misery of his relocation in his face. “And it’d be hot and sunny too. You wanna go inside?”
“Nah,” I huff, “I’d rather stay out in the rain than go home. I tend not to go back there until I have to.”
“Jeez, that’s kind of sad,” he says sympathetically. “Why don’t you come back to mine? You know my parents,
obviously, and I’ve already got the Xbox set up.”
“What games do you have?” I ask, sounding a lot more interested. Sometimes I sneak into Ethan’s room to play Grand
Theft Auto.
“Er, I may have some Peppa Pig games or something,” he offers, to which I scrunch up my nose with disappointment.
“Got anything like Call of Duty or Gears of War?”
“Sure, you play them?” he asks, sounding impressed.
“When I can sneak into Ethan’s room,” I reply, choosing not to take offence over his assumption that I’d only play girly
or baby games. “Let’s go through the woods, otherwise we’ll likely run into Tilly and her friends in the village.”
He grimaces as he gets up to follow behind me. Perhaps I’ll finally have an ally against my evil sister. Or at least a
friend.
 Chapter 3
Theo 14
Izzy 12

Izzy
“Mum! Mum!” I shout out from my bedroom door, sounding desperate; I am desperate. This is an emergency, a
nightmare, a travesty. “Mum, please hurry!”
“What on earth is wrong with you?” she eventually huffs, sounding bored and disinterested, as though I’m nothing more
than irritant. Situation normal then. However, I’m not thinking rationally right now so I’m reaching out, urging her to take just a
fraction of interest in me. When she finally approaches my room, looking immaculate and ready to rock one of her tea mornings
with the local who’s who of our country bumpkin village, I point to the blood stains on my bed sheets with a look of pure panic
on my face.
“Oh, phew!” she laughs, theatrically placing her hand over her heart. “I thought something horrendous had happened.
You’ve just got your period, Isobel, nothing to flap about.”
“What?! I don’t want to have my period!” I cry. I was kind of hoping such a thing would bypass me altogether. When
Tilly got her first period, Mum cried and made a total singsong over it, then took her out to get pads and a shiny new bag to
keep them in. She took her out for afternoon tea, just her and Tilly, to ‘celebrate her becoming a woman.’ The very idea of her
doing that is abhorrent, but still, to say it’s nothing only reminds me of how little this woman thinks of me.
“Well, it’s here whether you want it or not; best get used to it. Looks like you’re going to have a heavy flow from the
looks of things. You’ll need to get some pads from the village. Let me get you some money and you can pop over now,” she
says as she turns to walk out the door.
“Wait, can’t I just use some of yours or Tilly’s?” I practically beg; I don’t want to go into the village and risk someone
seeing me buy my first sanitary towels. Besides, I don’t know what I’m supposed to get.
“I only use tampons and you know how precious Tilly is over her things. Perhaps if you made more of an effort not to
upset her, she’d let you, but…” She trails off, tutting as she does so.
“But…but…” I stutter, reaching out to beg for something I already know she won’t give into.
“Ahh, has baby Isobel got her first period?” Tilly mocks me with a baby-like tone of voice. “Don’t you dare take any of
my stuff, witch!”
“It’s not hard, Isobel,” Mum says, looking at her watch as she shoves some money into my hands. “Just ask the chemist
for sanitary towels and explain to them that it’s your first period. They’ll help you.”
“So, you’re not going to come with me?” I ask, trying to appeal to her as my mother. Does she not have any maternal
feelings for me at all?
“I’ve got my coffee morning, then a meeting with Ethan’s tutor,” she says, placing her hand on my shoulder for a short
moment. “You’ll be fine, Isobel. Trust me, millions of women do this every day; you’ll survive!”
Knowing I’ve lost this battle to get her to be my mother, I throw my hands up in the air and stomp to the bathroom to get
ready. I haven’t even got anything to line my knickers to get to the chemist, so I wrap some toilet tissue around and around the
gusset and hope for the best. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to protect me for very long and the thought of a huge red patch giving
me away in front of the entire village is enough to have me skipping breakfast and heading straight through the woods to the
pharmacist. I just hope to God that Tilly and her friends won’t be there.
My best friend, Theo, is hardly the person to call at a time like this. Mary moved to London about a year ago, so that
leaves me, myself, and I to go and get this done. I have a few friends from school but most of them are boys, and all of them
live elsewhere. Plus, this is really embarrassing. Nonna’s not feeling grand at the moment, especially with her lupus and
arthritis playing up, so I don’t want to drag her into the village. Though at least I can pop by her place after the ordeal so I can
vent to someone who will understand.
As soon as I reach the pharmacist, I breathe a sigh of relief and slip in without anyone noticing. Thankfully, it’s empty
inside and Mum’s friend, Brenda, is behind the till. Brenda’s cool, even if her daughter is one of Tilly’s twirpy girlfriends, and
at least I can talk to another mum about it.
 I shuffle over to the desk where she spies me and smiles warmly. I must look a little pale because she immediately
furrows her brow with concern.
“You ok, Izzy? You’re looking nervous,” she says, leaning onto the desk so we can speak more privately. I bet she
wouldn’t have forced me to come out by myself; I bet she instantly knows when her daughter needs her.
“Er, yeah, well, I…” I feel the humiliating heat of a blush all the while I try to force the words out.
“For goodness’ sake, child, spit it out,” she says with a warm giggle.
“I got my first period this morning and I’m currently wearing a wad of tissue in my knickers,” I blurt out with my eyes
closed tightly, almost hoping she didn’t hear me.
“Oh, Izzy,” she says with sympathy in her voice. “Where’s your mum? Didn’t she come with you?”
“I guess not,” I murmur sadly, feeling ashamed of the fact. “Tilly wouldn’t let me have any of her pads and Mum says
she only wears tampons. I don’t fancy shoving something up my foo.”
“Oh, Izzy, that’s not fair,” she says as she rounds the desk to pull me into her rather ample bosom. It’s awkward but
comforting at the same time. “Come with me, I’ll show you what you might want to start with. Then you can go and use the
toilet out back.”
“Thanks, Brenda,” I say with a sigh of relief, “I owe you one.”
“Don’t be silly, love,” she says and leads me over to the sanitary products.
_____
Izzy
I leave the shop feeling much more secure than I did on the way over here. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of mess, and
the pads were easy enough to fit. It was embarrassing to have to have someone else’s mum sort out your first period, but at
least it was someone as nice as Brenda. I thank her once again, then walk out, closing the door behind me so I can begin my
short walk to Nonna’s house.
“Did you get some, Isobel?” Tilly shouts out from across the street, which is now bustling with her friends and other
kids from school, including Theo, who is hanging out with Maddison Andrews, the girl all the boys want to date. I knew he
would be popular with his Hispanic roots, confident attitude, and American accent. “Feel better now you’re wearing an actual
sanitary towel?” Tilly laughs as she shouts at the top of her lungs for everyone to hear.
My heart freefalls to my feet as I stand frozen still, praying that the ground will open up and swallow me whole. My
cheeks burn with humiliation at the same time as the sting of tears collects at the bottom of my eyes. Everyone is now staring at
me, either laughing or looking on with pity, including Theo.
I remain rigid for what feels like hours before my limbs agree to sync in with my brain and get the hell out of here.
Once moving, I run as fast as my legs will carry me, my breath labored and tears running down my face.
“Izzy!” I hear Theo shouting after me. “You’re such a bitch, Tilly!”
I run and run, not looking back, not even for Theo. It’s not until I reach Nonna’s house that I stop and throw my fists
upon the door, silently begging for her to answer. Eventually, when I’m about ready to collapse on the floor, she opens it up and
gasps over the state of me. As soon as she pulls me inside, I feel as though I’ve only just managed to escape the monsters from
some gory horror film. I cling onto her, sobbing against her small, frail chest, all the while she strokes my head and offers
soothing sounds to try and calm me.
“Izzy, dear, what’s wrong?” she asks, her voice full of concern. I can’t answer her with words, for I’m far too upset to
form any purposeful shapes with my mouth. In fact, before I can answer with any kind of gesturing, Theo bursts through the
front door, breathing rapidly from having run all the way here. “Theo, whatever has happened?”
“Izzy, don’t even worry about it!” he gasps in between his short, shallow breaths. “No one even likes Tilly anyway.
Plus, it doesn’t even matter.”
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Nonna snaps, sounding close to angry, which I’ve rarely heard on her before.
“Tilly just humiliated Izzy in front of most of the kids at school. She told everyone Izzy had her…well…er…” He trails
off, and I wince over what he’s been trying so hard to say. I think I’m going to die of embarrassment all over again.
 “I got my period, ok?” I turn around to face them both, most likely looking red, snotty, and blotchy. “Mother couldn’t be
bothered to take me to the pharmacist and Tilly refused to let me have any of her stuff, so I had to go by myself. I even had to
ask Brenda’s mum to help me, which she did, but then, when I left, Tilly basically announced it to the entire village!”
I cross my arms and stomp into the living room where I slump onto the couch and bury my face in my hands.
“Oh, Izzy,” Nonna says as she sits beside me, “you should have come to me; I would have helped you. I may be old, but
I have been there you know.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been unwell, and I didn’t want to drag you out into the village,” I try to explain, still refusing to look
at either of them. “I hate them, Nonna, I hate all of them. Can’t I come and live with you?”
“I’d say yes in a heartbeat, darling, but I don’t think your parents would allow it. And, unfortunately, I’m much too frail
to give you what you need on a full-time basis, love,” she says as she pulls my hands gently away from my face. “I’m sure they
love you, even if they have a rather funny way of showing it.”
“Do you want me to go and make her tread in dog poo or something?” Theo pipes up, forcing me to giggle a little. He
smiles when he hears me laughing, and even though his offer is tempting, I shake my head and sigh. It would only come back to
bite me somehow.
“Theo, sweetheart, maybe you could give us some girl time?” Nonna suggests. “These things are a little delicate and a
boy being here might make Izzy feel even more uncomfortable.”
“Sure, but meet me by the bridge later?” he says to me and when I nod, he smiles, looking relieved.
Theo leaves Nonna and me to have a heart-to-heart chat. I’m actually glad I got to have this conversation with her
instead of my mother, or even worse, Tilly. We end up laughing about it all and soon I’m brushing off what happened today. I’ll
put it down to ‘experience’.
_____
Izzy
By three o’clock, I’m walking back into the woods, on my way to meet Theo on the bridge. It’s the same place we meet
every day, I’m not sure why, but it’s been like that since he arrived here four years ago. Apart from holidays, I think we end up
seeing each other every day. Sometimes we hang out at his to play Xbox, sometimes we go on rambles through the woods,
sometimes we go into town and see a movie. Whatever we’re doing, he’s the one person I can rely on to make me laugh and
feel good about myself. He makes me forget about my awful family and focus on him and Nonna instead. I love him for it.
However, today is the day that will change our relationship. When I look over at the bridge, he is not alone. He’s
leaning against Maddison, his hands under the back of her shirt, smiling and kissing her, and not in just a friendly way either.
She looks at him like her world begins and ends with him. I can’t say I blame her. In fact, I have to admit, a pang of insane
jealousy and anger sweeps over me as I study the way they are touching each other. Time to break this vomit-worthy scene to
pieces.
As I approach the bridge, I purposefully cough loudly to disturb them. Maddison looks up first, not appearing at all shy
about me witnessing what they were just doing. In fact, she has a smug smile plastered on her face, which only broadens when
he looks up at me without much reaction. I smile tightly at him, and he returns the greeting, unfazed by having an audience to
him feeling her up.
“Am I interrupting something?” I ask curtly while crossing my arms.
“Not at all, Twiglet” Theo says, using his nickname for me as if highlighting the fact we’re just friends. It irks me.
“Maddison was just about to go for her ballet lesson, weren’t you, babe?”
“Oh, yes,” she replies in a fake syrupy voice, much like Tilly puts on for boys she fancies. She then kisses him on the
lips, and I spy him dip his tongue in. Bile threatens to erupt out of my mouth as they go at it, right in front of me. “See you
tonight?”
He nods with a ridiculous grin on his face, much like the dogs pull when the fish and chip shop owner comes out to feed
them the greasy, crusty chips that have been left after the lunchtime rush. It’s cute on them but revolting on Theo right now.
“I’ll miss you,” she pouts, and I can’t help rolling my eyes over the sickening performance. Theo spies me and looks
annoyed. “See you later, Ivy.”
 The silly bitch knows that’s not my name, but no one bothers to correct her, not even Theo. I merely wriggle my fingers
at her with a fake grin as she walks off, swaying her hips provocatively as she goes.
“What?” Theo is on me straight away. “Just say it, Izzy!”
“I have absolutely nothing to say,” I tell him with a bored shrug as I begin to walk off in the opposite direction to
Maddison. He quickly falls into step behind me and grabs hold of my upper arm. “Hey, dude, get off my arm!”
“Are you mad at me?” he snaps, sounding accusatory. “Because I am allowed to see other people you know. I can’t
hang around with kids all the time.” My mouth drops open over his words and I suddenly feel as though I’ve lost him, just as I
did Mary. “I didn’t mean that to sound the way it came out, Izzy, I’m sorry.”
“Screw you, Theo! Or maybe little sashay-of-the-hips will for you,” I shout, eyeing him furiously. “I don’t need this
shit. It’s been a fucker of a day as it is, so go and suck face with little Miss Dry Hump over there. See if I care!”
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that? Though, I guess we know why after this morning,” he says with an angry smirk.
“Perhaps when you’ve learned to control those hormones of yours, you should give me a call. Until then, maybe we should
have a break from one another.”
As my heart begins thumping about furiously inside of my chest, feeling painful over not only his rejection, but the
injustice of it all, I stare at him, feeling shocked over his sudden change in personality. I suppose a pretty face can do that to a
guy. I step back, feeling hurt and confused; this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Theo has always been my rock but now it
seems he’s gone, and instead, there is this angry, sex-crazed teenager, acting more like my brother and sister than my best friend
and confidant.
I shake my head slowly and let a stray tear fall slowly down my cheek. Then, with one last look of disgust, I run from
him. It’s only three o’clock and this is the second time I’ve had to run away from my demons today.
When I walk into the kitchen, the whole family is there, minus Dad, who is probably still at work. Mum has started
getting ready for some social event to do with Dad’s work but is chatting warmly with Ethan and Tilly. They look happy
together, complete without me, so I try to slip in unnoticed. However, trusty old Tilly spies me, and we all know she never
misses an opportunity to dig the knife in.
“Recovered yet?” she asks with a cruel smile before lifting her mug of hot chocolate to her lips.
“I’m peachy, thanks,” I reply without expression, hoping she doesn’t mistake my puffy eyes as a reaction to her antics.
“Oh, Isobel, I would make you a hot chocolate too, but Ethan just had the last one and I’m terribly late getting ready for
your father’s work do this evening. Appearances are everything you know,” she chirrups.
“I’m sure Isobel doesn’t mind,” Ethan butts in, “she could stand to lose a few pounds as it is.” He smiles at Tilly before
they both burst out laughing.
“Don’t be cruel, Ethan,” Mum giggles. “Get everything sorted this morning, Isobel?”
“Brenda helped me,” I explain, “then Tilly announced my predicament to the whole village, didn’t you sister dearest?”
“Jeez, Isobel, it was just a joke, get over it!”
The cruel, smug look she gives me is enough to send me over the edge, and I see nothing but a dangerous mist of red in
front of me. I stalk over to where she’s sitting and grab a fistful of her hair. She releases a satisfying yelp as I pull hard,
kicking her chair out from under her and slamming her up against the wall. For the first time ever, she looks terrified and tries
to buckle, but my grip is too strong.
“Isobel, put her down this instant! You’re overreacting,” Mum flusters as she rushes over to us, but I push her back.
“Your father will hear about this!”
“From now on, you leave me the hell alone or I.Will.Hurt.You!” I snarl as I deliver this threat into Tilly’s ear.
Suddenly, large hands pull me off Tilly and I feel a sharp blow across my cheek. I turn around to find Ethan standing
over me, his hand poised for another attack. I instantly grab hold of my burning cheek and submit to the evil look on his face;
I’ve always been afraid of my brother, he’s unhinged. He belongs in one of the many violent video games he likes to play.
“Get to your room, Isobel! Now!” Mum shouts, and even though I have a natural urge to scream at all of them, I do as
I’m told, slamming the doors as I go.
 I don’t sleep that night. Instead, I’m forced to listen to Mum and Dad coming home during the early hours of the
morning, talking and laughing with one another.
“Oh, what are we going to do about Isobel?” Mum complains to my father. “She’s a nightmare; you should have seen
poor Tilly’s face! It was lucky Ethan was around to sort her out. You need to be more involved and have a firmer grip on her.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he answers, sounding like a starry-eyed boy in puppy love. “I’m so sorry; you know I appreciate
everything you do around here, and so should she. It’s probably just hormones wreaking havoc with her.”
“That’s no excuse, Craig,” she snaps, “I won’t have her upsetting her sister like that, nor her brother for that matter. I’ve
done all I can to try and rein her in, it’s your turn to talk some sense into her.”
“Alright, darling, I will…tomorrow.”
“Good, the sooner the better!”
“I know you only wanted two, but can we at least try to get along with her? She is only a kid, after all,” he practically
begs.
“Yes, well, no point crying over upset milk now,” she sighs, all the while I die that little more inside. “Just remember to
have that talk before you go to work.
“I promise.”
He never did have that talk with me. He rarely ever talks to me; I don’t think he knows how to. With Tilly, he knows
how to buy her love with money and compliments, and with Ethan, he can talk shop. Ethan’s already been earmarked for a top
spot in the family business, so it stands to reason they should talk about such things. I once feigned interest, asking what exactly
it is they do, however, I was told, ‘Not now, Isobel, I’m late.’ I asked Nonna in the end, seeing as it was passed down through
her family. I gathered the part about money, finances, and it being a more acceptable form of gambling, but I didn’t hear
anything that was remotely human in it. So, I gave up trying to be interested and came to accept I would never have more than a
conversation of a few words with the man. Because that’s all he is to me – a man. There’s nothing fatherly about him toward
me, nothing at all. As for the others, I simply don’t belong.
 Chapter 4
Theo 17
Izzy 15

Theo
Finally, I get to leave school!
My last day is complete, my uniform ceremoniously burned… Actually, Mom made me donate it, but I was sincerely
tempted to hold a mass bonfire for all my school stuff. And the reason for all of this? Dad’s contract is finally at an end.
We’re going home!
I’ll be leaving for California at the end of the month, and I can’t fucking wait. I’ve already got my name down for the
high school I would have been attending had I not been forced to come to England. I’m returning home to guaranteed hot
weather in the summer, days full of surfing, nights full of partying, and friends to catch up with. I’ve kept in good contact with
all my friends back home so it should be like picking up where I left off.
First things first, I’m off to the school library to hand in my schoolbooks and leave this place for good. I’m not saying I
haven’t enjoyed parts of my school life here, especially some of the friends I’ve made, but there’s no way I’d choose this place
over my Californian home. I’ve just never belonged here; I’m an American boy through and through. Besides, some of them left
at the end of school, choosing not to attend sixth form and take up apprenticeships instead. One or two signed up for army
training. It just seems right for me to finally be returning home.
My dad seems really keen too, but Mom…I don’t know. Something tells me she’s reluctant, which is weird. America is
her home and I know she’s missed it; she’s made little to no effort to branch out and make new attachments here, and she calls
her friends from back home nearly every day. However, when Dad said he was finally getting the go-ahead to return to the
mothership, she wasn’t exactly jumping for joy.
Lost in my thoughts over it all, I almost miss the sound of a familiar giggle coming from the table behind the
bookshelves. Most people like to make out there because it’s cut off, which makes it virtually hidden from snooping eyes.
However, if it is who I think it is, she wouldn’t be caught dead making out. Especially somewhere even remotely public.
Before I go and confirm my suspicions, I thank the librarian with my usual good-boy act. I then saunter over to the
corner in question where I find Izzy sitting at the table with her long blonde waves hanging down her back. Her petite frame is
leaning over the table to write notes in her folder, right alongside a boy with short, light brown hair. She keeps her eyes
focused on the book in front of her, completely missing the fact that he keeps glancing her way, practically drooling over his
study partner. Her ignorance to his unsubtle lusting is hardly surprising; she’s completely innocent when it comes to boys.
Something about that has me feeling insanely protective over her. She has no idea how beautiful she is, and I love that about
her. I always have. In fact, she will always be one of the coolest chicks I have ever met. It’s a shame our friendship ended the
way it did, otherwise, who knows where we might have ended up.
Contemplating my regrets, I find myself tensing up over this guy ogling her, especially when she’s so oblivious to it.
Without invitation, I march myself over to one of the empty seats and slump into the chair, leaning back and lacing my fingers
behind my head. The guy looks me up and down, clearly annoyed, but when he notices my clenched jaw and the fact that I am
older, taller, and broader than him, he decides to keep his mouth shut.
“Can we help you, Theo?” Izzy asks with a theatrical sigh, not even looking up from whatever it is she’s reading.
“Bradley and I are working on a project together.”
“Bradley, huh?” I reply, being just as over-the-top theatrical as she is, then turn to face the guy in question. “Well, gee,
sorry, Bradley; I didn’t know I was disturbing you, Bradley; am I making you feel uncomfortable there, Bradley? Am I
interrupting your view of my cousin’s rack there, Bradley?”
His mouth drops open at the same time as Izzy leans back in her chair and studies him with confusion. As I said, she’s
clueless when it comes to sleazy guys staring at her. I’ve seen it enough in passing when walking around these school
corridors. But I know Izzy can handle herself, so I’ve kept my distance. At least, that’s what I like to tell myself. The
alternative means having to admit I treated her just as badly as her horrible family. I was wrong, but the thought of having to say
those words out loud makes me want to hit myself. Bradley actually does me a solid by distracting me from that thought; he
jumps to his feet, quickly picks up all of his crap, and begins backing away with no grace whatsoever.
 “Sorry, Izzy, I, er, have to get going,” he flusters, “perhaps we can pick up tomorrow after school?”
“Remember to adjust your boner, Bradley!” I call out as he begins walking away just that little bit quicker.
“Pleased?” she utters, sounding clearly unimpressed.
“Very much,” I reply with a grin and a wink to wind her up just that little bit more. “He your boyfriend? Cos he sure as
hell wants to be. Either way, he definitely wants to get in your pants.”
“You’re gross,” she scowls, “not every guy wants to hump every female they come into contact with.”
“Guess again, Twiglet, he was eyeing you up like he wanted to grind on your bones for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!” I
chuckle at the same time as she throws her eraser at me. I see the smirk on her face though, I always could make her laugh,
even when her family had been particularly hard on her. I couldn’t stop them, but I could at least make her smile. That is until I
turned out to be just as much as a disappointment to her.
“How come we stopped hanging out, Iz?”
“Because you chose hormones and your dick’s newly acquired knowledge that it ultimately rules you, over loyalty to
the one girl who refused to drop to your feet in awe,” she replies, still looking at her work while scribbling across the page.
“How about a movie tonight? My treat,” I offer, smiling as I lean in closer. “To say sorry, on behalf of me and my dick.”
“Ha! Have you finally run out of new girls to bang?” she asks, dropping her pen while looking up at me with real shock
on her face. “Wow!”
“So bitter! Not jealous are you, Twiglet?” I place my hand on top of hers and begin to swirl my finger over her skin.
She flinches and pulls away just a little too quickly for my ego to overlook it.
“God, no! Just concerned for your health. I heard that if the great Theo Chase doesn’t dip his wick at least once a week,
it might shrivel up and die,” she retorts with a wicked smile. “That would be catastrophic for you, wouldn’t it?”
“Who says I don’t want to dip my wick inside of you?” I raise my eyebrows suggestively, enjoying the shocked
expression she’s now trying to cover up.
“Calm yourself, whore boy,” she says, training her face into neutral again, “as far as everyone else is concerned, you
are my cousin. Not to mention, I’m also illegal.”
“True,” I reply with a sigh, feigning sadness, only to turn my frown into an encouraging smile again. “Oh, come on, Iz?
In all seriousness, I leave in three weeks and I really wanna hang out with my favorite person. How about some Xbox? If I
piss you off too much, you can shoot some people.”
“Oh, alright,” she concedes, rolling her eyes as she does so; she could never resist my charming smile, most girls can’t.
“But keep your filthy mind to yourself. I don’t wanna hear about who you’ve been banging, who you want to bang, or who
you’re taking to the college Christmas party to bang.”
“Ok,” I chuckle, “deal. See you at six?”
“Ok,” she agrees, “at least I can rub Tilly’s nose in it. She still has a major crush on you.” I physically shudder at the
thought, which amuses Izzy no end. I personally can’t think of anything worse than shacking up with Tilly Chase. The girl has
only gotten worse over the years, but now with hormones and an even larger gaggle of irritating Tilly wannabes at her disposal.
You can count me out of that idea.
_______
Theo
Hours later, Izzy and I are snuggled up on the oversized beanbags in my room, playing Grand Theft Auto. She
frequently giggles over the gore and over-the-top violence, all the while singing along to the eighties tracks that are playing in
the background. She shines when she smiles, and I can’t help stealing frequent glances her way.
“So, who are you taking to the Christmas do?” she eventually asks, resting back to take a break from the game. “I hear
you majorly pissed off Maddison so I’m guessing it’s not her. Tilly’s free if you want to ask her.”
She theatrically raises her brow, teasing me with her unwanted suggestion, for which I punish her by throwing a pillow
her way.
 “Ellie Sanderson,” I reply, wincing over the girl’s name. She’s very attractive and all, but I’m not feeling it. “I don’t
know though; she thinks it’s a big deal but I’m leaving. Maybe I should let her down…not lead her on?”
“Are you telling me or asking me?” She turns to face me with her pretty blue eyes blinking at a rapid pace. “Just how
many girls have you slept with?”
“How many do you think?” I smile, jutting my chin to encourage her to take a guess.
“I dunno. Rumor would have me believing you’re in the double digits.” She then shrugs with a distinct blush spreading
over her cheeks, and I laugh because having only just turned seventeen, that estimation is truly ridiculous. “Go on, tell me!”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk about who I was banging? Your rules, remember?”
“I don’t want to know who, just how many. Your secret is safe with me,” she says, theatrically locking her lips and
even throwing away the key.
“Two,” I answer her honestly and her eyes widen with disbelief.
“Is that all? I thought there would be far more than that. Did one of them break your heart or something?”
“No, nothing like that. I just didn’t feel anything for them so I kind of did it for the experience and then…” I trail off,
shrugging my shoulders to show how little a deal it is to me. Izzy simply turns back to the frozen screen in front of her and
slurps noisily from her soda can, with her hair hanging down in waves behind the beanbag. “So, tell me, Twiglet, how many
boys have you kissed?”
“Twenty-three billion,” she answers without looking at me, to which I laugh.
“Seriously, Iz, have you kissed anyone? I mean really kissed anyone?” I turn to face her, nudging her with my foot until
she’s forced to return my gaze.
“I heard the human mouth contains more germs than a toilet seat. That never really sat well with me when it came to
kissing boys, or girls for that matter.”
Such a typical Izzy response.
“Right, stand up,” I say, jumping to my feet, “I’m gonna show you.”
“Show me what?” she asks slowly, with a look of confusion on her face, before slurping up more of her drink.
“Show you how to kiss,” I reply at the same time as I grab her hand and haul her up so we’re standing face-to-face.
“I’d really rather not,” she says, looking so serious that I feign insult, which does nothing to deter her. “It’d be totally
weird kissing you. You’re my best friend, or at least, you were my best friend. Besides, you’re my cousin, remember?”
“Not by blood, and as you said so yourself, we were best friends.” I pull her close against me, then rest my hands on
top of her hips. She’s warm and so petite that I can fit her right under my chin.
“Theo, please, cut it out,” she says, trying to shimmy free but I hold firm. “I’m not kissing you,” she huffs while folding
her arms because I refuse to let her go…not yet anyway.
“Why not? Afraid you’ll like it?” I pull her an inch or two closer toward me, prompting her breathing to hitch up a
gear.
“You’re being an arse, you know that?” she mutters with a hint of anger behind those words.
“Come on, Iz, I wanna be your first kiss,” I tell her as I move my head to look into her eyes, my finger tilting her chin up
to encourage her to do the same to me.
“I wasn’t yours!” she snaps with that hint of anger now coming out with full force. She pushes me away and scowls one
more time before stepping toward my bed to grab her bag. I rub the back of my neck, finally realizing why she’s so pissed at
me. I am one dumb motherfucker sometimes.
“You are jealous, aren’t you?” I utter, trying to sound sincere, though the words only have her shaking her head in more
outrage.
“I’m leaving, thanks for the game, Theo,” she sighs as she wraps her hand around her bag strap, but before she can
leave, I grab hold of her arm and pull her into my arms, cupping her face with my spare hand so I can safely place my lips on
top of hers.
 At first, she freezes, but as I pull her against my body, she eventually relaxes her lips and begins to reciprocate my
touch. Her sweet scent hits me, which drives me to reach behind her back and pull her flush against my chest, my hips, and my
groin. Her hands reach into my hair, and I push my tongue through her plump lips just to get a taste. Our tongues touch gently at
first, but enough for her to release a small whimper of pleasure. The sound undoes me, and my dick instantly hardens against
her.
“Woah, what the hell was that?” she cries, and I can’t help but laugh cheekily over her shocked reaction.
“Er, you have had sex ed, haven’t you?”
“Oh,” she says, covering her mouth as the realisation kicks in. “Oh,” she frowns while looking down in the general area
of my dick. “Oh!”
“Can you say anything else, Twiglet?” I begin to walk toward her, my hands held up defensively in front of me. “Sorry,
but that was one hell of a kiss, Izzy. I, er, couldn’t help myself.”
“I, erm, I, er, better go,” she stutters as she fumbles for her bag. I can’t help grinning when she trips over herself in an
attempt to get away as quickly as possible.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I ask, leaning up against my wardrobe with my arms crossed, if only to reassure her that I
won’t try and stop her this time. I won’t deny, however, that I’m enjoying her reaction to our kiss and my ensuing erection.
“Tomorrow? Oh, yeah, that,” she says, fake smiling, remembering we’re having to gather at her place for some family
get together before we leave for the States. After reuniting with the girl in front of me, I’m suddenly looking forward to it. “I’ll
see you there. Er, bye…bye, Theo.”
She exits my room so fast, so ungracefully Izzy-like, I burst into laughter. I’ve always loved that girl; it’s a pity I’m
having to leave her behind.
 Chapter 5
Izzy
My body betrays me in the most humiliating way when Theo arrives with his parents the following evening. I can’t even
pretend to be cool when my cheeks begin heating up like a furnace at the same time as my chest feels like it’s about to explode
with butterflies. I try to avoid his gaze but only end up being so obvious that whenever I do steal a glance his way, he’s
smirking. God, this isn’t me; this has never been me. I may as well sign up to be one of Tilly’s mindless bimbos whose only
goal in life is to be worthy of some guy’s attention. Even Nonna is staring at me with a knowing grin and a wink every five
minutes. She’s a saucy minx; nothing gets past her.
The only person being more embarrassing than yours truly is my sister, though that’s nothing to be proud of. I frequently
suffer from second-hand embarrassment on her behalf. It still baffles me how popular she is. I guess the Chase name, plus its
associated wealth, speaks volumes to the shallow masses that attend my school. Not that it has any positive effect on me, for
everyone knows I’m the black sheep of the family. Tilly, who is now trailing behind Theo like an over-enthusiastic puppy
begging for scraps, has always revelled in the attention.
Still, I’d take Tilly any day over my terrifying big brother, Ethan. In the fifteen years of my life, I can count on one hand
the number of conversations I’ve had with him, and none of them have been pleasant. He despises me and is more than happy to
let everyone know the fact. The only solace I can take is he is usually scowling at the entire world. He only smiles when he’s
being cruel, condescending, or watching some violent film or video game. I try to avoid him as much as possible, especially
since the night he had slapped me for daring to touch Tilly. I was forced to apologise to the whole family, whereas he was
practically celebrated as the hero for putting me in my place. A little part of me died that night, for many reasons.
When we eventually sit down to dinner, Theo rushes over to sit next to me, which only sets those bastard butterflies to
increase in their velocity. I almost find it hard to breathe so I grab hold of my glass of water and guzzle back the cool liquid at
a rapid pace. But before the last drop falls down my throat, I feel his hand gripping hold of my thigh beneath the table. I
practically choke on my drink all the while he chuckles from behind his other hand.
“Something amusing, Theo?” Nonna asks with a knowing smile spreading across her face.
“Sorry, I was just remembering something that happened yesterday,” he answers coolly.
“Sounds like it was something good?”
“Oh, believe me, it was mind-blowing!” he says, giving me a wolfish grin that does funny things to my insides.
He continues in this vein for much of dinner and is constantly touching me in some way - hand on my thigh, a brush of
my hand when passing the salt, even removing an eyelash from my cheek. Each and every time we make contact, I feel my
cheeks heating up and a cacophony of butterflies whizzing around my chest. I’ve always liked Theo, always dreamed of my
first kiss, first embrace, first tender moments with him, but I never actually believed it would happen. I was more likely to have
my first kiss with a movie star than Theo. And yet, here we are.
He enjoys the uncomfortable reaction I give to his frequent double meanings, as well as his need to constantly share
some sort of affectionate touch with me. I feel like everyone can see it too, even though only Nonna appears to have any clue
as to what is happening between us.
“Dessert anyone?” Mum asks the table in general.
“Not for Isobel,” Tilly answers for me, “she’s already struggling to fit into her clothes, aren’t you fatty?”
Her cruel remark has Theo squeezing my leg a little tighter, his anger becoming palpable. Meanwhile, she and Ethan
have a good laugh at my expense.
“Now, now, Tilly,” Dad at least pretends to chastise my evil big sister, though he doesn’t sound altogether convincing.
“So, I hear Theo has applied to some big colleges back in the States, meanwhile Tilly is going to be off to university and Ethan
will be coming to work for me; it’s definitely exciting times ahead!”
“What about you, Izzy?” Aunt Frances asks politely, obviously taking pity on my parents’ lack of interest in me. It’s not
lost on me that I was absent from Dad’s list of exciting opportunities.
“Oh, she’s off to join the circus with her freak friend, Mary,” Tilly declares before I can get a word in. “Mary’s going
to be the mute and Izzy’s going to be the fat lady.”
 She smiles innocently while battering her eyelids, the whole ensemble making me want to slap her false lashes right off
her face. Ethan sniggers and my parents say nothing.
“Oh, Isobel’s off to sixth form,” Dad replies for me.
“Got any idea what you want to do when you’re older?” Frances continues, ignoring Tilly’s comments. Theo, however,
clearly isn’t. His jaw is clenched shut and his grip is bordering on painful against my leg.
“Well, I-”
“She’ll probably follow Tilly and Ethan into the family firm, if she has the grades,” Dad continues to answer for me.
Sadly, he has no idea what my grades are; he and Mother have missed my parent-teacher conferences for the past two years. To
be fair, he’s dreaming if he thinks Tilly is going to be able to study business and finance.
“I’m actually thinking of taking her to a few of my socials. We’ll get her mixing in some of my circles so at least she can
marry into wealth,” he teases, slurping on his wine like a sixteenth-century lord of the manor. “Course, we’ll have to tame
some of that fire out of you, won’t we, sweetheart? It’s all about appearances you know.”
He chuckles and I instantly imagine stabbing him in the neck with my steak knife.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, Daddy, but Isobel is considered an ‘ug’,” Tilly says before smirking my way and shrugging
her shoulders. “She’s never had a boyfriend because she’s a freak, and, well…we can’t all be pretty, can we? Some of us have
to work behind the scenes, if you know what I mean.”
She winks evilly at me before continuing to eat her tiny pieces of dinner that I hope she chokes on. Theo makes a move
to get up, however, this time, I put my hand on his thigh to stop him.
“Perhaps we should take you shopping with us next time, Isobel,” Mum interjects, thinking this is the answer to all my
problems. “We’ll get you some make-up and some flattering clothes. The boys will be eating you up in no time, sweetheart.”
“Oh, gee whizz,” I gush with theatrical flamboyancy, “I simply can’t wait to get my slut on for all of Daddy’s friends,
Mama. Just think, I can be a useless trophy wife just like Tilly wants to be. I’ll be an imbecile, but I’ll be pretty. How simply
marvellous, Mother!”
“Isobel!” Mum shouts. “How dare you talk to me and your sister like that?”
“Oh, Mother dear, it’s just too easy to. Excuse me while I get the hell out of here. I’ll try not to crack any mirrors on the
way out. Nonna, I’ll call you tomorrow. Frances, Wyatt, Theo, I’m pleased you’re getting the opportunity to escape this God-
awful family.”
Without any other words from anyone, I scrape back my chair and march out toward the kitchen, ignoring the obvious
scowls on Ethan’s and Dad’s faces. I wouldn’t stay in this house if you paid me to right now. I need to get away from the
constant negativity I am forced to endure from this family, so I head for the back door to try and find my calm space before I
kill somebody.
Pushing my feet into my well-worn trainers, I burst out the door in my ridiculous shift dress which Mum made me wear,
and march huffily away into my favourite place - the woods. I may well get murdered by the local weirdoes but at least it will
be quiet and dark, much like my mood at the moment.
Fortunately, I don’t meet a single soul on my way to the bridge where Mary and I used to play Pooh sticks. I lean
against the wooden railings to listen to the trickle of water underneath me. Winter is well upon us, and the cold is enough to
have me shivering, but I can still take comfort in its calming percussion.
_____
Theo
The table is left in stunned silence after Izzy’s departure. Her family looks angry, apart from Tilly, who looks smugly
pleased with herself. My mother looks as if she might burst into tears but instead, stares down at the table in shame, much like
my father does. I can’t help but feel disappointed in them for not saying anything. We all just witnessed what was downright
bullying toward the youngest member of this household. Even Grandma says nothing. She merely sits there, looking
expressionless, and not the least bit surprised by the turn of events.
“Your daughter is one of the most beautiful, intelligent girls I’ve ever met,” I snap, finally finding my voice to break the
silence. I then throw my napkin onto the table at the same time as I get to my feet. “Present company included,” I add, glaring at
Tilly who quickly loses her giddy expression.
As I bolt out the door, I don’t bother calling for Izzy because I already know exactly where she’s gone; I’m already
halfway there myself. When I do finally reach her, I stop to take in her slumped, dejected figure. She’s throwing her little pile
of sticks into the water, one by one. However, when I walk up behind her and slip my hands around her waist, she screams in
shock, which has me laughing.
“Jesus Christ, Theo!” she gasps, placing her hand over her heart. “You scared the bejeesus out of me!”
“And here I was thinking I had come to comfort you.” I grin but she just pushes at me half-heartedly. “Come here, feisty
pants.”
I hold her in a best friend hug, to which she thankfully, returns the embrace, before finally resting her head against my
chest. My chin sits comfortably on top of her head while we stand like this for, I don’t know how long.
“I don’t wanna go home,” she murmurs, “I might kill them in cold blood… and what a mess that would make.”
“It’s cool, you can come and stay over at mine.” I kiss the top of her head and begin to lead her in the direction of my
house. I don’t want her to go back there either, though, she can kill them for all I care. It’s her I’m worried about. “We can
watch a movie and eat crap all night if you want to?”
“Copious amounts of crap and a horror movie?” she asks with a hopeful look on her face that resembles that of a
golden retriever. Even after being attacked by her vile family, she still manages to look like the happiest girl in the world when
it’s just the two of us.
“Well, whatever crap we have in the cupboards and Mom might have a copy of The Exorcist? That’s about all I have
to offer.” I shrug but she seems happy enough with my meager offerings. “I’ll get Mom or Dad to let your parents know what’s
happening, whether they like it or not.”
“I shouldn’t imagine they’ll give a shit,” she sighs sadly, “but whatever.”
“I would argue with you, Twiglet, but your family are a special kind of asshole,” I reply truthfully, “you don’t belong
with them at all. You’re far too good for them, always have been.”
“Ah, shucks, you’re gonna make me cry,” she says with a grin that has me feeling happy for putting it there. I take hold
of her hand and walk us back to my house. I don’t give a shit who sees us because this girl is the most important thing to me,
apart from my folks and Grandma. In fact, I have a sudden pang of guilt wash over me when I realize I have to leave her to the
wolves in just a few weeks.
We enter my cluttered kitchen through the back door where Mom is continuing to pack up non-essentials for the big
move. I glance at Izzy and her smile drops the moment she sees the reality of us leaving for good. Her shocked expression has
me wishing for the first time since I heard we were returning home, that we weren’t going. I try to grab hold of her, however,
when Mom smiles up at us from behind a cardboard box, she quickly plasters on a fake grin and drops hold of my hand.
“Izzy, come here, darling,” Mom says as she moves out of her fort of boxes to come and grab hold of her in an embrace.
An embrace I’ve not seen her give to anyone except me before. “I could swing for your family, my darling girl.” Izzy blushes
and looks awkwardly to the floor at the same time as I release a nervous laugh. “I mean it, you are the most amazing girl, so
don’t let them steal that fire away from you. I fell for you the moment I met you.” We both look at my mother with perplexed
expressions, not quite knowing where this is coming from. “And so did my son, though he won’t admit it,” she whispers before
winking at me.
Instead of denying what is true, I grab hold of Izzy and pull her toward the door so we can escape upstairs. Mom’s
obviously in one of her let’s-embarrass-Theo-for-fun moods.
“Do you still have The Exorcist, Mom? I think Izzy fancies some gore right now.”
“Sure, honey, should be in the cabinet; I haven’t packed it yet. Izzy, why don’t you stay in the guest room tonight? I’m
sure Theo will lend you one of his shirts to sleep in.”
“Only if that’s ok?” Izzy asks politely. “I really don’t want to face them tonight.”
“Of course, darling girl. Why don’t you go up and put Theo’s TV on and he’ll bring the movie up in a minute.”
Izzy nods and heads towards the stairs all the while I look over at Mom, bracing myself for whatever it is she wants to
say to me in private.
 “Spit it out, Mother,” I sigh, folding my arms across my chest.
“Just remember she’s fifteen, Theo,” she says, now eyeing me with a serious expression, “and we’re leaving soon. I
don’t want you or her to end up with a broken heart.”
I could try and argue with her, tell her I don’t feel that way about Izzy, but she always knows when I’m lying, so what’s
the point? Instead, I nod and kiss her on the cheek before following after Izzy. I know nothing can happen between her and me,
but I can think of nothing better than spending the night just chilling with my best friend.
_____
Izzy
“I think it’s time for you guys to hit the hay,” Aunt Frankie calls through the door, presumably on her way to bed.
I love how cool she is; she’s the most laidback mother I know, which is why her emotional speech weirded me out a
little. As everyone has seen, I’m hardly living with the most intimate of families. Any form of affection or hint of a compliment
has me feeling extremely uncomfortable. Sadly, her trying to be nice only had me wanting to bolt for the door.
“Dad’s already snoring and I’m turning in now,” she says, looking pointedly at Theo, to which he blushes. “See you
guys in the morning.”
“So, can I borrow a shirt? Preferably clean,” I tease.
“Damn, you’re fussy,” he retorts, smirking as he gets up to grab one from his chest of drawers. It’s a black V-neck that
looks huge enough to cover me nicely. “I may also have a spare toothbrush if you’re lucky.”
He saunters into his bathroom to look for the toothbrush while I change. The hem reaches my mid-thigh, whereas the
rest just looks baggy.
“Suits you,” he says, making me jump, to which he laughs. “You’re always on edge, Iz.”
I purposefully bump past him on my way to the bathroom, making him chuckle over my playfulness. Or am I flirting? I
have no idea; I’ve never done this sort of thing with a guy before. I brush my teeth and see him watching me through the
mirror. He scans me up and down until our eyes meet for a few brief heated moments, and then he offers me a smile. A smile
that tells even me, he’s flirting. I spit, then wipe my face with a towel, not sure how to proceed. I’m fifteen; he’s seventeen,
almost a man. He’s had sex with two people, and I’ve only just had my first kiss. Though, more than any of that is the fact that
he’s leaving. My heart is already going to break, this will only make it hurt all the more.
“What are you thinking, Twiglet?” he asks, obviously sensing my anxiety. “Are you scared of me?”
“No, don’t be stupid, Theo,” I lie.
“I don’t ever want you to be worried about me, Izzy, I’m your best friend,” he says, clutching hold of both my hands.
His skin is warm and causes the sensation of electricity to buzz through me. I’m embarrassed to say, I also feel a throb of
desire between my legs and I’m not sure how to react.
“Theo?” I ask, and he looks at me intensely, as if waiting with bated breath over what I’m about to say. “Am I really fat
and ugly?”
He doesn’t answer me, just keeps looking at me with confusion and with the same intensity. After a moment or two, he
pulls me gently into him and places his lips over mine. He molds his body against me, and our curves fit perfectly together like
a jigsaw puzzle. He picks up my hands and wraps them around his neck before pushing his tongue between my lips, then lays
his hands gently on my lower back. We massage our tongues gently together and when I moan, I feel his hardness pressing
against my stomach again. This time, I’m not shocked, but I still giggle, which only causes him to laugh with me.
“Sorry, that’s just weird. Can’t you control it?” I ask, still with my hands around his neck.
“Unfortunately, not all the time, especially when I’m around you,” he whispers. “So, to answer your earlier question,
no, I don’t think you’re fat and ugly. I think you are the most funny, beautiful, sexy girl I have ever met.”
“I have to say, I have never been more thankful to be a girl right now,” I whisper, biting my lip to stifle my smile.
“Is that all you have to say after I basically confessed how much I’m attracted to you?”
He shakes his head laughing, so I lean against his chest to hide my embarrassment. However, after but a short moment,
he uses his index finger to lift my chin so he can kiss me again.
 “Stay in here…with me,” he says.
“Er, I don’t know… I mean… I…” I fluster, suddenly scared to death of what he’s suggesting.
“Relax, Twiglet,” he says softly, “I only mean to sleep in the same bed as me. I know I can’t have you in that way, but I
want to hold you tight against me. I want to make you feel wanted, beautiful, and loved.”
“What about your mum and dad?” I whisper, even though I already know I’m going to agree to what I so desperately
want.
“Are out like a light. Besides, I’ll sneak out before they wake. You can stay here, and I’ll take the guest room,” he says
before leading me over to his bed.
He climbs under the covers and holds them open for me to join him. He’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, and I’m
wearing my knickers and a long t-shirt; we’re covered, so I guess we’re not doing anything wrong. Without any further
encouragement, I get inside and cuddle into him. We kiss on the lips once more before he holds me around my waist, all the
while peppering the back of my head with little kisses. He feels warm, strong, and protective; I could stay here forever.
“Goodnight, Theo,” I whisper.
“Goodnight, Twiglet.”
 Chapter 6
Theo
“Theo!”
I stir from sleep, wrapped around a firm warm body.
“Theo!” someone whispers with urgency. “Theo!”
“What?” I mumble, wishing whoever it is, would get lost. I’ve never slept so well, and I really don’t want to get up.
“You and Izzy need to get up now and do it quietly, so your father doesn’t hear!”
Mom sounds beyond pissed, as well as extremely anxious. I open my eyes with the feeling of panic taking over my
entire body. Not even the sight of Izzy with her arms and legs wrapped around my body eases me, though it is a beautiful sight.
Instead, I whisper a curse over the realization that I never got up and went into the guest bedroom. Typical, seeing as I usually
wake up two or three times a night. I eventually brave it to face my mother’s scowl, offering a sheepish smile to try and
convince her that I am truly sorry for fucking up like this. She says nothing, simply closes the door to go and distract Dad.
“Shit!” I mutter, running my hand through my hair, procrastinating before I have to rip myself away from Izzy’s
warmth.
“Izzy?” I whisper, stroking back her hair into some sort of order. It’s currently sprawled out everywhere, taking over
my bed like she belongs here. I would indulge in the sight a little longer if I couldn’t hear my parents talking about what time
our flights are, and whether they need to book a hotel or not.
“Twiglet?” I say a little louder, wincing when I see her wake with a gasp. She looks around before widening her eyes
over the realization of where she is.
“You’re still here?” she gasps while rubbing her eyes.
“Yeah, and Mom is pissed, so we have to get up without my Dad hearing. I’m going to tiptoe over to the guest room
before he comes back up.” She nods as I gently get out of the bed, being careful not to tread on any of the creaky floorboards.
This house is old, so I end up doing a weird kind of hopscotch routine. Izzy giggles, which has me returning to kiss her on the
cheek. “You look beautiful this morning.”
“Shut up.” She blushes and grins as she brings her knees up to hug against her chest.
_____
Theo
An hour or so later, Izzy concedes that she needs to go home and face the music. I feel like I’m in for the same fate as
soon as she goes. Dad’s gone for his Sunday run, so it’s just me and Mom, which means she can let loose. As soon as Izzy
closes the door, she looks at me with a thunderous expression. I release a heavy sigh, preparing myself for her onslaught.
“Before you say anything, nothing happened,” I blurt out, throwing up my hands defensively. “Nothing will happen. I
know she’s only fifteen and I wouldn’t do that to her. We just slept in the same bed, fully clothed!”
“Theo, I know you wouldn’t; I brought you up properly,” she says before chucking the tea towel down onto the table.
“Have you kissed her?”
“No,” I lie, and it’s a blatant one; she looks at me as if to say she wasn’t born yesterday.
“Baby, you’re not being fair to her,” she says as she grabs hold of my hands. “She’s going to fall for you even more than
she already has and you’re going to leave. And leave her to the shitty situation she’s living in, no less!” I look away
uncomfortably, not wanting to hear the truth of the matter. She merely lifts my chin to force me to face her and the real
consequences of what I’m doing to a girl I really care about. “And what about you?”
“What about me?” I groan, even though I know what she’s about to say.
“Are you doing this to torture yourself or something? I know you have feelings for her, you always have!”
“Calm down, Mom, we’re just kissing,” I lie. Again.
“Please, you can’t fool me, young man,” she says at the same time as she rolls her eyes. “You fell in love with that girl
the moment you heard her telling that ridiculous story about the dog getting stuck in the pond. But now that love is something
more than childhood friendship. I see the way you look at her. It’s the same way your father looked at me when he found me
hanging upside down from a tree, trying to keep as much distance between a rabid dog and my throat as possible.” I chuckle
softly, trying to make light of it, but Mom continues to penetrate me with her sympathetic stare. “Let her down gently, Theo, for
both your sakes, as well as your friendship. Maybe she can come out and visit us next year or something.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye to her,” I admit. “I’m finally going home and she’s the one thing I don’t want to leave for.”
“I know, baby,” she says, giving me a look that tells me she knows what she’s talking about. I’ve got to hurt her all over
again.
_____
Izzy
When I finally get home, no one is talking to me. Instead, I am given evil stares and a whole lot of huffing and puffing.
Being more than used to this kind of treatment, I simply ignore them and head straight for the shower so I can try and burn off a
layer of skin under the scalding water. I come out of the bathroom and throw on a pair of jeans and a baggy ‘Labyrinth’ t-shirt,
my all-time favourite film. I used to dream of being whisked away to a fantasy world where I could make friends with the other
unwanted freaks. Goblins and monsters seemed as though they would be much better company than my family. Maybe I would
be accepted, cared for, and loved by those who were always frowned upon in this reality. Unfortunately, this reality is all I
have. Hopefully, not forever though.
My wet hair is pulled up into a loose, messy bun, where it will stay for the rest of the day. You couldn’t get more
opposite than my sister and me, but I’m proud of that fact. I grab my phone and smile when I see a message from Theo already.
It simply says ‘Hey Iz, we need to talk. Bridge in ten?’ I respond with a straight to the point, ‘yep’, then shove the phone in my
back pocket. When I open the door to the hallway, I’m met with the unpleasant sight of Ethan scowling at me with a furious
look in his eyes. This isn’t anything unusual when he’s looking at me, but what is surprising is when he grabs hold of my shirt
and shoves me back into my room, then slams the door with his heavy booted foot.
“You’re a nasty little bitch and one day I’m going to slap you so hard, it’s going to leave my fucking handprint behind. It
will remind you of what a scourge you are on this family.” At first, I’m shocked, my heart thumping at rapid speed behind my
rib cage while I think of something to say that might stop him from carrying out this threat. Nothing comes; my voice is
completely dried up. “Mum was in tears for hours last night, Dad was worried sick about how to handle you, and you don’t
even give a shit!”
“Why do you hate me so much, Ethan?” I just about utter. “I’m your sister for Christ’s sake.”
“Because Tilly and I wanna follow into Dad’s business and I’m not going to let some little brat bring shame upon this
family or its name anymore,” he shouts, pushing me with force again. “You will start to behave or I will make you. You could
at least dress more like a fucking girl for starters!”
“Back off, Ethan, you’re my brother, not my keeper,” I finally begin fighting back, narrowing my eyes and holding
myself firm and strong. “Believe me, if I want to make you guys look bad, I can and I will, so fuck off out of my way.”
I push past him and bolt for the back door before he has the chance to say or do anything more. I’m sure I’ll pay for it
later, but for now, I want to get to Theo. Hopefully, he’ll help me come up with a plan for what to do when Ethan corners me
again. More than ever, I wish he wasn’t leaving, the pain of it is going to be suffocating.
By the time I reach the bridge, Theo is already waiting for me. The sight of his old denim jacket, his well-worn boots,
and his messy hair has me instantly calming myself after my run-in with Ethan. As if sensing my presence, he turns and smiles,
but even from here, I can see it’s not reaching his eyes. There’re no crinkles around them, it’s fake. Maybe he got hell for being
caught with me this morning, maybe he’s just tired, or maybe I’m about to be crushed sooner rather than later.
“Hey, Twiglet, we need to talk,” he says in such a way, I know it can’t be about anything good.
“Oh,” I reply, smiling, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he looks down at my shirt, strokes his finger against Ludo, the
hairy ‘monster’ and smirks. Distraction tactics.
“Labyrinth?”
“For sure, my favorite film,” I reply, “you can’t beat Bowie wearing a pair of nut-hugging Lycra trousers while fondling
a bunch of glass balls. Though, more than that, I guess I’ve always wanted to go there. Trouble is, I wouldn’t want to come
back.”
 The atmosphere turns melancholy, so I look away awkwardly.
“I always thought it was kind of weird,” he admits, “but I guess what you’re saying makes sense. Fuck, this is hard,
Izzy!”
He releases a loud sigh as he wipes his hand over his face, my suspicions being more than confirmed. He’s here to
break my heart.
“Just say whatever it is, Theo,” I utter sadly, “I’m pretty used to disappointment.”
“I think we should stop this,” he says, gesturing between him and me. “I’m leaving in a few weeks, and I don’t want to
hurt you any more than I need to.”
“It’s fine,” I rush out, looking away so I can blink away the tears forming at the bottom of my eyes. I quickly wipe them
away, then turn back to give him my best fake smile. “You, or rather, Auntie Frankie, are totally right. I’ve gotta go anyway, I
have a huge essay due tomorrow. Thanks for last night; I’ll drop your t-shirt in tomorrow or something.”
He calls after me but I’m already walking away, huddling into my t-shirt while letting the tears freeflow down my face.
I want my fantasy reality more than anything; why doesn’t it exist?
When I get back home, I find his shirt and go to throw it straight inside the washing machine. But then I get a faint whiff
of him. I can’t help but breathe in the fabric more intimately, scrunching it up inside my hand so I can inhale without shame. It
smells masculine, comforting, all spicy and woody. I decide to take it back up to my room and place it under my pillow. I’ll
wash it one day, just not on this one.
_____
Theo
The weeks leading up to our departure pass quickly, something I would have been thankful for not long ago, but now,
I’m dreading it. I see Izzy every day, and all I want to do is take her inside my arms and hold her close, kiss her, stroke her
hair, and tell her how much she means to me. I even see her with Bradley a few times, and it’s all I can do not to go over and
pull him away from her. It’s not fair of me, she deserves Bradley and his goo-goo eyes, but I can’t help it. Something instinctual
says she belongs to me and only me. She’s mine to make happy and to protect from her awful family. And yet, I have to stand
back, keep my distance, and let him put the smiles on her face, fake though they are. I’m unfairly proud of the fact that she only
smiles genuinely for me. I’m the only one that gets her to shine through all the shit she has to live with inside of that house.
The night before the sixth form Christmas party, I am being bombarded with messages from my date, Ellie, about what
she’s wearing. She asks what I’m wearing, what car we’re going in, whether we should go out for something to eat first, and
tonnes of other shit I’m not really interested in. By morning, I’ve had no less than thirty text messages. In a moment of sheer
frustration, I throw my fist against the wall; I’ve ended up asking out a Tilly-wannabe.
Being a total asshole, I text Ellie and tell her I’m sick. It’s not a smooth or fair move, but I just can’t face it, especially
not in the mood I’ve been in since making Izzy cry yet again. Besides, I’d only end up making her night a huge disappointment.
It’s best she tries to find someone else instead of a moody bastard like me. Understandably, she immediately phones and starts
screaming bloody murder until I reach the point whereby, I have no choice by to hang up. I decide there and then not to go. I
owe her at least that much.
By half seven, I’m dressed in my suit, readying myself to break all my willpower and do something I know I shouldn’t.
I wait until half eight, then cross over the forest, which is now pitch black. This may be the dumbest thing I’ve done yet, but I
don’t care. I’m leaving in two days, and I need to tell Izzy how I feel about her. I refuse to leave her believing someone else
doesn’t love her, especially when that someone is me.
The house seems quiet, deserted perhaps, especially as all the cars are gone and the lights are out. However, when I
look up at Izzy’s window, there she is. I smile up at her at the same time as she opens the window, wearing nothing more than a
little vest top and a pair of pajama shorts. With her hair hanging down in its usual unstyled way, I can’t help but marvel at how
stunning she looks.
“What are you doing double-oh-seven?” she shouts down as she leans over the window ledge. “You lose your way?”
“Nah, I’m blowing the party off,” I reply with a wide grin I can’t help but wear for her. “For you, Twiglet, you’re the
only girl I wanna be with tonight.”
“But you said…” she says, teasing me by crossing her arms and clucking her tongue.
 “I know what I said,” I reply with a sigh and a shake of my head, “but I was an idiot! Come and let me in?”
“Well, I don’t know,” she says cheekily, “Bradley’s coming around later, and I was thinking of going ten rounds with
him.”
I theatrically raise my eyebrows, feigning shock before bursting into laughter.
“Get your cute butt down here, Izzy!”
She giggles and turns away from the window, so I make my way over to the back door where we finally meet. We’re
awkward at first, but then I remember how little time we have together and pull her into my arms so I can kiss the hell out of
her. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around me as I carry her back into the kitchen, slamming the door closed with my shoe.
“Wait, shit, is anyone home?” I rush out.
“No, but there are cameras there, there, and there,” she says, pointing to each corner of the room before giggling at me
again. “I’m kidding, of course.”
“Of course? Your family are nuts enough to do something like that.” With my fears laid to rest, I kiss her all over her
face as I carry her into her living room and gently place her back down on the floor. “So, first we’re going to dance, then order
whatever takeout you want, then I’m taking you to bed.” I wiggle my eyebrows and she laughs, letting her head fly back as she
does so.
“I’m fifteen, you randy bugger,” she says, “pas de sexe!”
“Indeed, but I feel a make-out sesh is perfectly age appropriate,” I reassure her. “When are the family ‘asshole’ home?”
“My parents won’t be back till the early hours of the morning and Ethan is at a friend’s house-”
“That guy has friends?” I blurt out in shock.
“I know, right? Tilly is out till the after-party wraps up,” she says with a mischievous grin. “So, we have the place to
ourselves for a few hours. But you gotta lose the tie and jacket, it’s far too formal for lil old me.”
“Jeez, here I was trying to impress you,” I tell her, loosening the bow tie and chucking my jacket on the couch. I roll my
sleeves to my elbows, to which she bites her lip.
“Much better, and dare I say it, much sexier. Gotta show me a bit of skin, hussy!” She grins cheekily, so I smack her
backside before pulling her into a lingering kiss.
I play a song from Labyrinth, her favorite movie, and she practically jumps around the room in a fit of happiness,
making me love her even more. She’s not afraid of anything or anyone, and I love the fact she’s always herself with me. When
a slow song begins to play, I twirl her around and lean her back toward the floor before pulling her into my arms. She rests her
head against my chest while I sway with her, learning the steps as we go along. She reaches her hands into my hair and sighs
contentedly, even when I step on her foot every now and then. I know it’s going to break both our hearts when I have to leave in
a few days, but right now, everything feels perfect.
Pretty soon, the evening leads us to her bedroom where we make out on her bed, and I end up stripping off my shirt.
“Holy fuck, Theo, when did you get so muscly? Are you a…a gym junkie?” She whispers the last part as though it’s
dirty, so I laugh.
“I go the gym a little bit, but most of it comes from swimming. Gotta be beach-ready, haven’t I?” I instantly regret
saying those words, but it’s too late. She looks away, obviously hurting over the thought of me not being here anymore. “I’m
sorry, Iz, I didn’t mean it.”
“Take me with you,” she whispers, but her eyes aren’t hopeful; she knows it can’t happen. I lean my forehead against
hers and sigh.
“If I had one wish, it would be that I could, Izzy,” I tell her truthfully, to which she nods sadly. “But I want you to know,
I love you so much. I mean I’m in love with you…you understand me, Twiglet?”
She stares wide-eyed before smiling and nodding slowly at me.
“God, me too, Theo,” she whispers, and a moment later, she lifts her vest over her head to reveal her black cotton bra. I
can’t help but ogle the smooth lines of her curves; I even trace a finger down over her breasts and all the way to the top of her
shorts but then I stop. Still, she removes her shorts to reveal matching panties and I can’t stop myself from peppering her with
gentle kisses all over her skin. We wrap ourselves around each other and kiss with such intensity, I don’t remember falling
asleep.
_____
Izzy
“You filthy little whore!” a voice shouts out from across the room. “Mum! Dad!”
The next thing I hear is a click, just before a flash goes off in front of my eyes, but before I can question what is going
on, my whole family has charged into the room, gasping and growling at me. I look to my side and see Theo’s warm, half-
naked body next to mine. He’s only just opening his eyes to the shitshow that is now playing out in front of us. His eyes widen
the moment he takes it all in – my parents, my psychotic brother, and my smug-looking sister. He mumbles some obscenity
which I can’t make out. I instantly pull the covers up to my chin and try and shout at everyone to get out, but that only seems to
anger them even more.
“Son, get the fuck out of my daughter’s bedroom!” Dad yells at Theo, who instantly slides out of my bed, not quite
knowing what to do. He puts his hands up in a defensive gesture toward my parents, but Ethan is on him before he can say a
single word. Being four years older than Theo, he is somewhat stronger, so has no problem hauling him out of my room.
“Izzy!” he shouts, but I have lost my voice. “Please, we didn’t do anything…Izzy!” His voice trails off as my brother
drags him down the hall. Shortly afterward, the front door bangs with a thud.
“Isobel! How could you? You’re only fifteen!” My mother looks at me with disgust while Dad snarls over my state of
undress.
“I thought I could hear breathy noises coming from in here,” Tilly says with her hands placed theatrically on her hips.
“Well, Daddy, your youngest has given her virginity away before your eldest daughter, what a dirty little slapper! And with her
cousin no less!”
“You liar!” I finally shout. “We didn’t do that, we just fell asleep together, I swear that is all.”
“Oh, come on, you’ve got black matching underwear on, and he was half-naked!” Tilly cries, stepping forward with her
finger pointing accusingly at me.
“All my underwear is black! Mum, Dad, I haven’t had sex, never, I promise. Theo wouldn’t do that with me, he said so
himself, I’m too young!”
“Shut up, Isobel!” Dad yells, turning a dangerous shade of puce. “Things are going change around here, young lady. I
can’t believe my fifteen-year-old has had sex with her cousin under my roof! You disgust me, and you disgust your mother.
Imagine if this got out. You are nothing but a disappointment, do you hear me?”
“Please,” I yell, crying for the first time in years in front of my parents, “I didn’t do anything. Ask him, he’ll tell you!”
“Of course he will,” Ethan butts in, “I think you should call the police, Dad.”
“No, no, no,” I beg, my eyes widening in horror, “you can’t do that to him! We’ve done nothing wrong. Get me
medically examined if you like, I’m still a -”
“Just shut up, Isobel,” Mother adds, “I don’t want to hear it. Let Theo fuck off back to America, but you, young lady,
you will not be having any contact with that boy ever again!”
She then begins to break down into one of her theatrical whimpers, all the while Tilly smirks at me; I’ve never hated
them more.
“Ethan, you are now in charge of your sister. I can’t deal with her anymore,” my father says, as though he ever had
anything to do with me. “She is not to see or speak to that boy again.”
“Dad, please!” I beg for him to listen to me for once in his life, but, as always, he turns his back on me and cradles my
mother out of the room, all the while she sobs into a tissue.
“Oh, dear little sister, that didn’t go too well, did it?” Tilly says, then makes a scene of crying with her fists rubbing at
her eyes, all before laughing sadistically.
“Jealous, are we?” I ask with contempt in my voice. But before I can say or do anything else, Ethan pulls me out of my
bed by my hair. On her way out, Tilly wriggles her fingers in a cutesy goodbye motion.
 “Get some fucking clothes on you brat,” he growls, pushing me toward the bathroom. “And wash that fucker’s cum off
of you; you stink of sex.”
He slams the bathroom door on me, and I collapse onto the cold, hard floor. I have never felt so dirty from doing
something so innocent before.
_____
Izzy

The next morning, I hear knocking on the front door, so I leap to my feet out of bed. The house is quiet and I’m hoping
everyone is gone for the day, but as soon as I reach the top of the stairs, I hear Ethan open the door with a growl.
“Just let them say goodbye; please, Ethan.” The voice belongs to Frankie and she sounds beyond pissed off after being
met with Ethan’s rudeness at the front door. I proceed to leap down the stairs two at a time, then crouch down so Ethan can’t
see me.
“No can do, I’m afraid. I’m under strict instructions to not let Isobel see or talk to him,” he says is a bored tone of voice
as he stands up tall, blocking the entire doorway.
“Izzy!” Theo shouts from behind Frankie. “Izzy! I love you!”
“Shut the fuck up and get out,” Ethan warns him through his clenched teeth, “or I’ll give you another black eye, so you
have a matching pair.”
“Izzy, I’ll come back for you!” Theo continues to shout. “I promise, I’ll come back!”
“I’m calling the police,” Ethan says calmly, in contrast to me, who is now crying in a mess of tears and snot.
“Theo, I think it’s best we go,” Frankie says softly to him, “we’re not going to get anywhere here, and I think it’s a good
idea if we just leave early like Dad suggested.”
“But I can’t just leave her, Mom,” he says desperately, “not with him, he’ll hurt her.”
“There’s nothing we can do,” she says sadly. “Tell Izzy we all love her and that she is special to us, even if she’s not to
any of you,” she says coldly to Ethan, but he merely slams the door in her face.
Ethan walks away with a grin stretching from ear to ear as he walks into the kitchen. With his back turned, I take the
opportunity to sneak to the door and open it carefully so as not to alert him to my escape. I run into the road, only to see the
back of their car driving away. My heart breaks and my body numbs, so much so that I don’t feel the hand gripping around my
hair to pull me back inside, nor the slap across my face when I’m thrown back in my room.
He’s gone.
 Chapter 7
Twelve years later, present day
Theo
“Grandma!” I beam at the familiar old lady sitting at the small wooden table close to the bar. A prime location for any
wedding function, especially one as tedious as this. “Looking well, I see.”
She smiles as I lean down to kiss her cheek.
“Sit down, Theo,” she says as though I have little choice in the matter. “Have you thought about our little talk?”
“It’s been over a year since I’ve seen you and there’s no ‘hello’, no ‘how are you?’ Straight to the point, huh?”
“You may be all expensive suits and business, Theo, but you’re still my little grandson. Besides, I don’t have time to be
anything but straight to the point,” she says with a no-nonsense tone of voice. She’s never sounded so firm in her life, but I have
to say, I’m impressed.
“So, did you do as I asked?” she says while surveying the room of wedding guests, none of whom I know that well. I’m
surprised I was invited at all after everything that went down. I suspect the lady sitting beside me had something to do with it.
Particularly as my parents didn’t receive any kind of invitation. “Did you see her?”
“In a way, yes,” I reply sheepishly because I did choose the coward’s way by hiring Max to tail her. I shrug my
shoulders guiltily as I watch her finally spy the girl who she’s been searching for. It’s not the bride, her granddaughter, Tilly,
it’s one of the bridesmaids. Wearing a knee-length navy dress with her blonde locks spiraling down her back, she looks
virtually the same as when I left her. My breath catches at the sight before I force myself to look back at Grandma with a sad
sigh.
“And…?” she asks, still staring at the back of Izzy. She is standing next to her father, with her brother close by, still
looking like a bulldog keeping guard. From her body language, however, Izzy appears to be less than impressed at being passed
around all these ridiculous people as if she’s some sort of ornament.
“She seems to be able to take care of herself,” I finally reply, leaning my arms onto the table as though this will give me
a better look.
We watch as they come closer to where we’re sitting, but not near enough to realize we’re here. As I said before, prime
position. A waiter walks up behind her with a bottle of rose, whispers something in her ear, then gestures to the table next to
us. She nods so he leaves it on the table before making his way back to the bar. Her father turns to face her so he can introduce
her to an older man and what looks like his son, a guy of a similar age to me. I look at her side profile and feel a rush of
adrenaline; she’s still a beautiful woman, still unique, still natural. She rolls her eyes at her father while the men aren’t looking
but he stifles her with a glare of warning.
“Watch,” Grandma instructs.
“Jeffery! Simon! How are you both?” Uncle Craig beams at the two men in front of them. Grandma and I look at each
other knowingly over his usual over-the-top greeting. Pompous ass. “Having a good time?”
“Yes, this is a beautiful wedding, you must be very proud of Matilda,” the older guy says while the younger one looks
Izzy up and down. My fists instantly clench over his ogling her.
“Of course, and Ethan is now engaged too. This is my youngest, Isobel, she’s currently single. Just waiting for the right
one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She nods with a severely bored expression on her face, as though she’s been doing this for hours.
“Oh, Simon’s single too,” the older guy says, then places his hand on top of his son’s shoulder, all the while Simon
smiles lustfully at Izzy’s chest.
“Simon,” he says to her with his hand held out. She offers him a fake smile and reluctantly shakes hands with him. He
holds on to it for much too long, to the point where she has to yank it back, which only causes Uncle Craig to scowl at her.
“So, what is it that you do, Isobel?”
“Oh,” Craig chuckles nervously, “this is a standing joke with Isobel; no one quite knows what she does.”
 The father and son frown at each other, both with ugly smirks on their faces. I suspect they think she’s like Tilly, living
off her father until a rich husband comes along. The perfect opportunity for Simon to try and score himself a hot wife when he
can only be described as mediocre at best.
“Oh, I’m sure you can tell me, Isobel,” Simon says, bridging the gap between them. “Don’t be shy.”
“Stripper,” she says with a deadly serious expression, to which the older guy nearly chokes on his drink. I smile to
myself; there’s the eight-year-old girl I remember so well.
“Oh?” Simon pushes, smiling lasciviously over her chest again.
“Yeah, it gives me enormous job satisfaction working that pole. Sure, there are some nights I’m not feeling it but then I
picture that pole as some big, dirty, hairy biker, and I slide myself right around it like it’s covered in chocolate-flavoured lube.
Mmm, so yummy,” she says while theatrically rolling her eyes back.
The two men stare at her with their mouths gaping wide open, all the while she polishes off her drink. Craig covers his
face with his hand, whereas Ethan, her evil big brother, looks like he could strangle her.
“Can I go and hang with the cool kids now, Daddy?” she asks with wide eyes and an innocent bat of her lashes.
“Just get out of my sight, Isobel,” he mutters angrily, “I should have known you’d behave like this.”
“What can I say? I like to be consistent,” she says, then turns to grab hold of the bottle of wine and waltzes outside.
I turn to Grandma with a wince, to which she says, “I told you so.”
“Please go and follow her,” she asks with a hint of fear in her voice. “She needs looking after, especially when Ethan is
around.”
I kiss her cheek, stand, fasten my jacket, then walk outside to follow after the girl I fell in love with. When I make it
onto the patio where many of the other guests are mingling, I spot her instantly. It’s as if no one else exists out here. She’s
making her way beyond the patio, but is suddenly caught hold of by Ethan, who grips her upper arm with force. I drop back to
see how she handles him, getting ready to intercept if needed.

Izzy
“You little bitch, when the hell are you going to grow up?” Ethan spits inside of my ear, the flehm making me shiver the
moment it hits my skin. I feel sick with the image I conjure up inside of my head. But then I remember my armor, the façade that
stops me from jumping off that cliff, stops me from slicing my wrists to pieces or downing that bottle of pills I keep in the
cupboard, just in case.
“Oh, calm down, brother dearest,” I say loud and clear, turning to face him with a smile so fake, I’m in danger of getting
cramps in my cheeks. “I’m going to go and tuck myself away so no one has to see the disappointment you have for a sister. You
can even pretend I don’t exist if you like. In fact, I’d prefer it.”
“Come back and make an effort for your family, you selfish little brat,” he growls. This guy always growls, especially
whenever he’s talking to me. Especially when… never mind. Don’t go back there or those pills will be calling out for you even
more loudly than usual.
“Let me go or I will cause a scene,” I whisper through my teeth. He doesn’t relinquish his grip, not even a little. My
heart rate picks up over the possibilities, the memories, the destruction. With panic building up inside of me, I go for my usual
distraction tactics. With a theatrically loud voice, I begin, “Perhaps I’ll let everyone here know we’re having some sort of
incestuous relationship, Ethan, I’m a pretty good actress you know. Oh, oh, Ethan, take me here, right now and I’ll let you
add in some of that strangulation I know you so enjoy…” His hands instantly release their grip and he steps back, looking as
if he wants to murder me. It terrifies me, but I laugh, knowing that for now, I’m safe. “Ethan, you’re so seriously creepy it
wouldn’t take a lot to convince people you’re into that kind of fucked up shit.”
“You disgusting little whore!” he snaps.
“Exactly, but makes it all the more believable, right? After all, that is the message you’ve all taken great delight in
conveying about me, isn’t it?”
He grabs hold of my arms as I turn to walk away, so I lift my stiletto and thrust it hard into his shin. It’s enough for him
to lose his balance and slump back from me. I want to turn and see his pain, especially when I hear the sharp intake of breath,
but I know when to take an opportunity when I see one. So, instead, I continue walking away as quickly as possible. I can face
the music for this interaction another day.
When I reach the outside pool, I check no one is around before taking up a relaxed position on top of a sunbed. I then
look at my watch, which only has me screwing up my face with disappointment. It’s half seven, which means I can’t leave for
at least another two hours; it’s like being back at school again, believing hours have passed by when in fact, it’s only been a
matter of minutes.
“Two hours and counting,” I mumble to myself as I open up the bottle of wine and take a healthy swig. I’m not one to
usually drink, not after it got me burned in the past, but this wedding, together with my rather unpleasant run-in with Ethan, has
earned me the right to a little numbing juice.
“Aunty Iz!” an excited voice squeals.
I smile to myself, knowing exactly who it belongs to. Tilly’s new husband is twenty years her senior, and seriously
wealthy. We all knew she was going to end up marrying for even more money, but it turns out he’s actually a sweet guy. Too
sweet for her. She never made it to being an accountant, so she’s now an overpaid secretary at my dad’s firm and a bad one at
that. Penny is Gary’s twenty-year-old daughter, and she also doesn’t like Tilly; the feeling is mutual, so they try to avoid each
other at all cost. It goes without saying that I instantly formed a connection with her.
“Hey, niece,” I smile as she comes into view, “come sit with me. Oh, wait, you have a whole gaggle of people with
you.”
“Come on everyone, put some decent music on,” she yells at her friends who all gather around with their own source of
music to break the peace. “Christ,” she says as she claps a hand over my shoulder, “you are officially my aunt now. Everyone,
this is Aunty Izzy, she’s totally cool and is so the opposite of my evil step-witch!”
I laugh at her new name for Tilly because it sums up my sister perfectly. It’s hardly surprising that she has very few
genuine friends; she has very poor social skills and is rarely discreet when it comes to showing people exactly what she wants
from them. I wonder why Gary fell for her at all.
Three other girls come to join us and although they look every bit as made up as Tilly is, they seem to be much more
accepting of the fact that I am now Penny’s new ‘cool’ Aunt Izzy. They even look at me like I’m a font of knowledge, which
makes me inwardly laugh because I am pretty far from that.
“So, this is Leah, Paige, and Brooke,” Penny introduces them to me. “Oh, and this is my boyfriend, and these are his
mates, Will and Carl.”
Three eighteen-year-old men come sauntering up to join us and I suddenly feel very outnumbered and old. Carl, and
Penny’s boyfriend, Jamie, are your stereotypical boy racer types with the latest fashions and trendy haircuts, whereas Will
reminds me of…well, me. He’s wearing a suit but with the top button undone and a pair of Converse trainers under his formal
trousers. I’d also question whether he put a comb through his hair today. However, his smile is the most genuine out of all of
them, including Penny’s girlfriends.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Jamie flings his arm around Penny, and she literally gushes over him. From his reaction, I can tell he
loves himself, but also her too. I’m not sure if I like him yet, or his friend, Carl, but then again, I don’t have to. He uncovers a
bottle of vodka and produces a bag of weed at the same time as Paige turns up the music.
“Well, Aunty Iz, ladies first,” Jamie says with a charming smile before pointing the bottle in my direction. The smell of
vodka will always make me feel sick, so I throw up my hand and shake my head. “Fair enough, more for us, hey babe?”
“So, have you got a man yet, Aunty Izzy?” Penny asks while Jamie passes her a glass of neat vodka. She’s already
hammered, as are her girlfriends. I want to warn them to take it easy, but I already know, from experience, they won’t listen so
choose to stick around and keep an eye on them instead. At least until I know they’ll be safe with these guys.
“I’ll volunteer if you haven’t,” Carl pipes up and begins to walk toward me with a lascivious smile on his smug
features.
“Me too!” Jamie adds, and I narrow my eyes at him.
Penny elbows him in the chest so he kisses her on the cheek. She takes it in good humor, but so far, I’m not too
enamored by Jamie. As Carl continues to approach me, I raise my hand to stop him. He eyes it as though he’s considering
ignoring my rebuttal, so I wag my finger from side to side just to drive the point home.
“I don’t date boys,” I warn him before sipping on my wine. “In fact, I don’t date anyone.”
 “Seriously?” Paige practically screams in shock, most likely fuelled by alcohol. “But look at you, you’re gorgeous!
You must have men fawning all over you.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to engage with them.” I drink back more of the numbing alcohol until I feel that heavenly buzz.
“None of you girls or boys do. Fuck what society or anyone else deems to be the norm.”
“There’s a story there, I can tell,” Will speaks for the first time, and with a smile as he takes the seat next to my sunbed.
He lights a blunt and takes a long drag, his eyes rolling back as the relaxing effects take over. I drink very little these days, I
smoke even less. But to be friendly, I take his offer and inhale before blowing out one or two smoke rings. A little trick my
barman friend taught me.
“Fuck, that’s sexy,” Carl says as he watches me in awe.
“You gotta teach me that, Aunt Iz,” Penny says with a serious expression.
“I don’t condone smoking,” I reply, “it’s a vile habit and incredibly bad for you.”
“Much like dating?” Will teases and I smile with him.
“Speaking of which, there’re a few good-looking men here tonight,” Paige pipes up again, “surely someone must take
your fancy?”
“Good looking and tedious,” I answer truthfully. “Trust me, I know the types here. You’re more likely to orgasm with
Mr Rabbit at home than get anywhere near a high with the likes of those who are roaming this wedding. You’ve seen my
brother, right?”
“Oh yeah, Ethan?” Paige pretends to drool, and I instantly want to throw up. “Is he single and willing to go with
someone a little younger?”
“Stay the hell away from him,” I warn her. “The man is a fucking psychopath. He’d eat you up and spit you out without
a second thought.”
The ridiculous girl merely raises her brows as though I’ve just given her a challenge. She’s been reading one too many
dark romances. Ethan is dark, but nothing else.
“What about the American?” Brook says. “He is damn fine! He outsexes any actor I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, hell yes! I’ve seen him, don’t know his name though. Oh, Aunt Iz you should totally hook up with that guy; you’d
make the most gorgeous babies.”
This time, Jamie gives her the evils, so she kisses his cheek to placate him before surreptitiously giving me a knowing
look. I can’t help but laugh over their ridiculous relationship.
“I’ve gotta say, the dude is hot,” Will says casually from beside me, “could probably have his pick of anyone here.”
“He can have me,” Paige says, sitting up straight and pushing out her chest before giggling over the top of her drink.
“Oh, please, you teenage girls are all the same!” I tut like some kind of matriarch. “See a pretty face and think he’s
Prince Charming with nothing but love and hot sex. He’s probably got five different girlfriends on the go, or he’s already
married with three different wives and umpteen million kids. Don’t be fooled; not all attractive men are good or worthy of
your attention,” I lecture, which only has them rolling their eyes and theatrically scoffing at me. So, to drive the point home, I
go for what they might relate to. “And he’s probably totally shit in bed too!”
I laugh, only to notice the rest of the group have gone discernibly quiet. Apart from Jamie and Carl, who are now
sniggering from behind their hands.
“I’m guessing from everyone’s silence and the chuckle brothers over there, that the mystery American guy is standing
right behind me, isn’t he?” Penny nods with a wince taking over her face. “Well, Mr Chase, are you shit in bed?” I call out
without even bothering to turn around.
“Perhaps you should put me to the test and judge for yourself?” his low growl of a voice says to me. And when I say
growl this time, it’s the smooth sound of a highly trained player, like the sound of a double bass. I smirk before finishing off my
final glass. I then take my time to place it on the floor beside me and finally stand to face him.
We look at each other for a long moment or two, taking in how the other has changed over the years. How many has it
been? I have to admit, he’s absolutely stunning and looks unfairly edible in his suit, filling it out with tanned, toned muscles.
He totally outshines any other guy here, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to look at all interested.
“Excuse me,” he says, now looking around at the gang of teenagers who are watching us with extreme interest, “would
you mind if I take Aunty Izzy for a quick chat?”
They either nod in awe of him or snigger under their hands. I, however, cross my arms and widen my stance, refusing to
move in any way. I don’t need anyone else coming into my life to try and control my every move, especially someone who left
me to rot.
“I mind,” I retort, forcing him to look back at me. “I’m quite happy here, actually.”
“Don’t make me force you, Isobel,” he says with warning in his voice, now walking toward me like a cornered animal.
Hearing that name upon his lips - his deceitful, forgetful lips - I see red. I close the gap between us with three big
strides, then put my face as close to his without touching.
“Don’t you dare call me that…ever!” I sneer, before marching off in the opposite direction. However, before I can
reach the gate, he grabs hold of my arm and slings me over his shoulder where I waste no time in thrashing against his back.
“Let go of me, you prick!”
He says nothing, just continues to walk away from the pool with me hanging over his back, all the while Penny and her
friends whoop and holler over his caveman display.
 Chapter 8
Izzy
After an uncomfortably bumpy ride over Theo’s broad shoulder, I am unceremoniously chucked down on top of a
wooden deck chair. He then begins pacing with his back to me and his tell-tale frustrated motion of running his hand through his
hair. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or rage, so in the end, I do nothing. It is best not to show them anything, to wear the
mask that keeps them guessing, to stop them from sticking you in a box so they can keep you prisoner. It is far better to keep the
pain from their eyes; pain is but a weakness they can exploit you for.
When he finally turns to face me, I merely shrug my shoulders and look to the side, if only to stop myself from
remembering those last few days with him, when he had lied to me. I relied on those memories for far longer than I should
have. They kept my hope alive, which was folly on my part. However, my eyes fall upon someone else I didn’t expect to be
here, not with Theo.
“Nonna? Why are you here?” I ask with suspicion, which I do not even attempt to hide from my voice. “And why the
hell is he manhandling me across my sister’s wedding?”
“I’m worried about you, dear,” she announces for all to hear. “I have been for a long time.”
“Hey, I’m fine!” I snap, leaping to my feet to get back to the kids and their recreational treats. Anything to avoid this
shitshow. Alas, my wrath gets the better of me when I hear Theo’s audible scoff of disbelief from behind me. I turn back to
deliver a murderous glare in his direction. “What?! What now?”
“Yeah, you’re fine alright, hanging out with teenagers, smoking weed, and drinking booze by the pool at your sister’s
up-market wedding,” he says with judgment radiating from him. “Or perhaps picking fights with groups of sleazy men in the
middle of a nightclub. And let’s not forget announcing you’re a stripper to half the wedding party.”
“Deary, what is it you do for a living again?” Nonna asks, like the cheeky old bird that she is.
“You know what I do,” I huff, crossing my arms like a petulant child.
“I do, but why don’t you tell Theo here?” she says with a wink, knowing how my usual routines run whenever I’m
asked this question. Keep them guessing, never giving them your truth…ever.
“Prostitute,” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders. “I tell you, it was a real pain in the backside trying to convince my
pimp to let me have a Saturday night off work. Had to give him a freebie and everything.”
“What the fuck?” Theo gasps with disbelief. “Are you for real?”
“Now, now, you two,” Nonna tuts, “I have an offer for you both, so I want you to come to my house at ten am tomorrow
morning. Do not be late! Speaking of, it’s late now and I’ve had enough of fake smiling and making small talk with all these
tedious socialites. You know I can only deal with your sister in small doses. Bless her, pretending to be impressed by material
nonsense is utterly draining for an old lady.”
She sighs before getting to her feet, shooing away Theo when he tries to help her. This is why I love Nonna; she cuts to
the chase without any bullshit. Theo kisses her on the cheek goodbye before I push aside formal niceties and grab her in a
childlike cuddle. She’d expect nothing less from me.
“Be nice, Izzy,” she whispers in my ear before emitting a small chuckle that reminds me of the conversations we once
had on my bed as a child, when I’d usually been sent there for no real reason. “Pimp? I enjoyed that one.”
We grin wickedly at each other before she walks away. I watch her for a while before I finally turn to face Theo.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he says and begins to lead the way.
“What makes you think I’d go anywhere with you?”
“Jesus, Izzy, why are you making this so difficult? You really want to stay here?” I at least stop to consider this for a
moment. I do want to get out of here, but I also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of me giving in to him. Decisions,
decisions. “Izzy, at least if you walk through that battlefield with me, no one should bother you, least of all your brother,
Ethan.”
“Fine,” I sigh, but only because I know he’s right; it is the perfect opportunity to get out of here.
 We walk through the throng of hoity-toity guests, averting our gazes so no one eyes us directly. Theo places his hand on
my lower back, guiding me toward the doors that lead to sweet freedom. Whether his hand is to warn others away, or to ensure
I don’t do anything he deems stupid, I honestly couldn’t tell you.
“Theo, darling!” a familiar voice calls out. My sister air kisses him in a semi-drunken state, then turns to eye me with
her usual contempt, no doubt noticing his hand on my lower back.
“Oh, Theo, tell me you’re not slumming it with Isobel again?” She rests her hand upon his arm at the same time as she
throws her head back to laugh over her own insult. “Whatever will Cindy make of that? Where is she anyway? We simply
must have lunch with you two.”
“She couldn’t make it I’m afraid, she had a prior charity event to attend,” Theo replies politely, not at all like the boy
who threatened to make her tread in dog poo once upon a lifetime ago. “Another time perhaps.”
“Isobel, didn’t you know Theo is dating one of my girlfriends from college? She’s a real darling, stunningly beautiful
too. Mixes in all the right circles, and is simply marvelous for contacts. Ay, Theo?”
“Oh, em, gee! She sounds divine, Theo, darling,” I mock my sister, “you simply must bring her to meet me so we can
have a threesome on the golf lawn.” I then guffaw in my best Tilly impersonation, even putting my hand in the exact same place
on his other arm.
Theo pulls me into his side, so I have even less mobility. Not that this will stop me from saying whatever the hell I want
to.
“You are so vulgar, Isobel,” my sister sneers, “so beneath the likes of us, always have been and always will be. I only
asked you to be a bridesmaid for appearances’ sake.”
“Oh, darn it, now I’m going to keep myself up all night wondering what I could have done differently to have had a
better relationship with you,” I reply with syrupy sweetness while I place a finger theatrically to my chin. “Oh wait, that would
be if I was someone who had a spare fuck to give, but…” I pause, shake my head, then throw my hands up in the air, just to
drive the point home, “I clearly don’t!”
Fortunately, my act does the trick and I seemingly win our battle of wills with her turning red with anger and stomping
off in her ridiculous wedding dress. I smile to myself in triumph. However, Theo merely shakes his head and quickly turns us
so we can escape more quickly. That is until we’re accosted by Simon, the guy who Dad was trying to set me up with earlier.
“Isobel, the stripper!” he says, then bites his bottom lip and eyes me up and down with no subtlety whatsoever. “I was
hoping to run into you, you naughty girl. Care to give me a private showing?”
“I beg—” Theo begins, but I cut him off, only so I can have some fun of my own with the creep.
“Actually, I’ve just been promoted to a whore.” I grin as I feel Theo’s hand turning into a fist, his jaw clenching as he
looks upon Simon-the-sleaze. He could use those fists and cause a scene, which would have Ethan and Dad getting involved.
Or I could wrap this up nice and quick. “This is my new pimp,” I tell Simon, then lean into whisper, “I’m about to go and give
him a private audition.”
“For fuck’s sake, Izzy!” Theo whisper shouts in my ear before pulling me out into the carpark, leaving Simon to try and
hide his hard-on all on his own in the middle of the hotel reception.
Theo opens the car door for me while I slide in with an over-the-top grin on my face, looking oh, so proud of myself.
Ignoring me, he gets in the driver’s side, then wastes no time in turning on the engine and revving the top-of-the-range sports
car down the road.
“Do you always present yourself as how they portray you? Or is it only when you can cause as big a scene as
possible? Tell me, Iz, because I just don’t get it!”
With a sigh, I merely shrug my shoulders and pretend to check my nails. For the record, I never manicure my nails; I
can’t see the point.
“Oh, classic Izzy,” he laughs as he drives down empty country roads, “act indifferent when things get remotely serious.”
“I just realised,” I say, ignoring his ranting, “you sad sap, you’re dating a Tilly-wannabe! That’s hilarious given how
much you despised her back in the day.”
“Cindy is not a Tilly-wannabe and I am not dating her,” he says with a sigh of exasperation. “We just use each other for
appearances and the occasional fuck.”
“Oh, Jesus, I just threw up in my mouth. Not sure from which part of that sentence, but it was definitely vomit.” I
grimace and physically shudder in front of him. “And they call me a whore.”
“No, that’s what you tell everyone you are,” he snaps.
“No, Theo, darrrling, it’s what I’ve been called ever since our little sleepover that night,” I argue. “It’s funny, they’ve
never said that about you.”
“I didn’t want to leave you, Izzy,” he says sadly, “I came back the next day, but Ethan wouldn’t let me in; what was I
meant to do?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” I reply with a bored sigh.
“Jesus Christ, Izzy, cut the couldn’t-give-a-shit attitude, will you? You were my best friend, the girl I fell in love with,
and now I feel like I don’t even know you at all!”
He’s beginning to get angry with me, they all do eventually. It would seem that even Nonna has lost patience with me.
“You don’t know me,” I tell him bluntly, “no one does, least of all myself. All I know is my self-preservation involves
me not giving a shit. You do realise it’s been twelve years, Theo?” He says nothing to that, so I smirk with satisfaction over
my win. “You haven’t even asked me where I live, Theodore, so where are we going exactly?”
“I’m taking you back to my place,” he says casually. “Well, actually, it belongs to Grandma, but that’s where we’re
going.”
“Like hell we are, I want to go home!” I cry out angrily. “What? Do you actually think we can just pick up where we
left off because Cindy, darrrling, is busy tonight?”
“Calm down, Twiglet,” he says with a cheeky smirk over his use of my old nickname. “I’m not going to be sleeping
anywhere near you. For starters, I don’t know what I might catch off a prostitute.”
“Probably less than what I’d catch off you, given your propensity for having someone to ‘occasionally fuck’ with.”
“Grandma wants us to stay there, and I am under strict instructions to look out for you tonight. So, as much as you piss
me off, I’m even less inclined to go against her,” he says before turning off down a gravel track.
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happened in a week
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Title: All that happened in a week

A story for little children

Author: Jane Helen Findlater

Illustrator: Rosa C. Petherick

Release date: October 7, 2023 [eBook #71825]

Language: English

Original publication: EN: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1905

Credits: This eBook was produced by: Delphine Lettau, Pat McCoy &
the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at
https://www.pgdpcanada.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALL THAT

HAPPENED IN A WEEK ***
“Do you live in that nice place among the baskets?”
Page 51.
ALL THAT HAPPENED
IN A WEEK A STORY
FOR LITTLE CHILDREN

By

Jane H. Findlater

LONDON, EDINBURGH,
DUBLIN, & NEW YORK
THOMAS NELSON
AND SONS

CONTENTS.
 I. The Arrival, 9
II. The Wasps, 15
III. The Doctor, 20
IV. The White Stones, 27
V. A Very Bad Child, 32
VI. A Day in Bed, 41
VII. The Adventure in the Lane, 49
VIII. The Ship, 60
IX. The Washing Day, 69
X. The Sea Beasts, 79
XI. The Last Day at Seafield, 86
 CHAPTER I.
THE ARRIVAL.

ne summer afternoon many years ago a child, called Peggy

Roberts, arrived at the door of her aunt’s house in an open
carriage. Peggy was just eight years old. She had been in
the train since early in the morning, and was very tired when the
carriage stopped at the door of Seafield. Then she noticed that
everything round her was new and different from things at home, and
she forgot about feeling tired. The house was exactly like the tea-
caddy that stood on the dining-room side-board at home, and had
been brought from China by her uncle—that is to say, it was quite
square, and you felt as if you could lift off the top like the lid of the
tea-caddy.
Right up to the windows there grew such a
lovely rose-tree, covered all over with
branches of bright red roses.
“O Martin, let me get some of the roses!”
Peggy cried, standing still on the steps of the
house.
Martin was her aunt’s maid, a stout, cross-
looking woman, who always refused to allow
Peggy to do anything she wanted.
“No, no, Miss Peggy, come in for your tea;
the roses are far too high up,” she said.
Peggy looked up at the beautiful dangling branches, and her mouth
went down at the corners; she thought nothing would make her
happy unless she got one of them.
It must have been because she was so tired that she began to
cry about nothing in this way. The coachman was more good-
natured than Martin, however, for he stood up on the box of the
carriage and gathered a bunch of the roses. “Here, missie,” he said,
leaning down from his high seat, and handing them to Peggy.
“Oh! oh! oh!” Peggy cried, burying her nose in the lovely red
bunch.
But then something horrid happened: a whole family of great, fat,
brown earwigs came hurrying and dropping out of the roses, in the
greatest speed to get away. Down went the roses on to the steps,
and Peggy cried in earnest now.
There was nothing she hated like earwigs, and to have a whole
nest of them fall out on her frock was too much for her altogether.
And then Martin was so pleased.
“See there, Miss Peggy; that’s what you get for wanting to pick
flowers!” she said. But she did brush away the earwigs, and stamped
upon the biggest of them to Peggy’s great disgust. Then they went
into the house, and she had to speak to her aunt; and, of course, she
had nothing to say to her.
Tea was on the table. A different kind of bread was there from the
home-bread Peggy knew. She went and stood beside the table and
looked at it, then put out her finger and touched it.
“Don’t touch things on the table!” said Aunt Euphemia.
“I’m sorry!” said Peggy, and wanted to cry again. But the door
opened, and such an exceedingly nice cat came walking in, just as if
the house belonged to it, that she forgot all about crying.
She ran to the cat, and went down on her knees on the carpet to
stroke him.
“He is called Patrick,” said Aunt Euphemia; “take care that he
does not scratch you.”
But Patrick did not mean to scratch. He rubbed his big yellow
face against Peggy in the most friendly way, and then walked to the
tea-table and jumped up on a chair and mewed twice, very loudly,
exactly as if he were asking for his tea.
“Patrick is very punctual,” said Aunt Euphemia.
 She poured out a saucer of milk for him, and put it on the floor.
Peggy sat down on the carpet to watch him take it. His little red
tongue was so rough and funny, she laughed out aloud at seeing it
dart in and out of the milk. Patrick never paused for a minute till he
had licked the saucer so dry that you would have thought it had been
washed. Then he licked his long, yellow whiskers, and walked away
to the other end of the room, jumped on to the sofa, and was fast
asleep in a minute. Peggy wanted to waken him, and make him play
with her; but Aunt Euphemia wouldn’t allow her. As her own tea was
brought in at that moment, however, she became interested in it.
Martin came in with Peggy’s pinafore, and glanced at the tea-tray
while she put it on. “I’ll just bring a kitchen cup for Miss Peggy,” she
said, adding aside to Aunt Euphemia, “She’s an awfu’ breaker!”
Peggy blushed hotly. She knew that she often broke things, but it
was horrid of Martin to remind Aunt Euphemia of it just then. She had
wanted to take tea out of one of those nice cups with the roses on
them; it wouldn’t taste a bit nice out of a kitchen cup. But it was of no
use to object. Martin always had her way, so the kitchen cup was
brought, and an ugly kitchen plate also. It was wonderful how good
tea tasted after all, and the strange bread had a nice salt taste, and
the strawberry jam was different too. Altogether, Peggy enjoyed tea
very much.
When it was done, she went across to the sofa to see what
Patrick was doing. He opened his green eyes, and looked at her
sleepily. One of his paws was lying out on the cushion. Peggy took it
up in her hand and felt the funny little pads of black skin on his feet.
She knew, because she had a cat at home, that if you give a cat’s
paw ever such a tiny squeeze with your hand, its claws pop out from
between the little pads of black skin. She had sometimes done it to
old Tuffy at home; so she gave Patrick’s paw the tiniest squeeze
possible, just to see the claws slide out from their sheaths. But
instead of receiving this in Tuffy’s kind way, Patrick put out his paw in
a furious rage at her, and buried all his claws in her arm. Oh, what a
howl Peggy gave, and what long, red scratches appeared down her
arm! Then Patrick jumped down from his pillow with an angry fizz,
and walked out of the room.
 Aunt Euphemia rang the bell without a word.
“Martin,” she said, “put Miss Peggy to bed; she has been teasing
Patrick!”
And Peggy, sobbing with pain, went off to bed.
 CHAPTER II.
THE WASPS.

ou will not have read even as much as this without

finding out that Peggy was always getting into trouble.
And indeed it was her nature to do so, poor dear,
though it seldom was through any serious fault on her
part. The first evening of her visit to Seafield had
ended in this fight with Patrick, and the next morning
something much worse happened. I must tell you all about it.
The sun was shining very brightly next morning, and Peggy felt
as happy as possible. On the way downstairs she met Patrick; and
because she was very sweet-tempered and forgiving, she sat down
on the top step at once, and held out her hand to him—a little warily,
of course.
She was delighted to see that Patrick, too, wanted to be on
friendly terms. He came and rubbed his head against her and
purred. So they made it up, and Peggy ran downstairs.
“May I play in the garden, auntie?” she asked at breakfast.
Aunt Euphemia considered for a moment. “Yes, if you do not
leave the garden, and do not tread upon the flower-beds, or gather
the flowers,” she answered at last.
Peggy did not much mind these regulations. It looked so
delightful out there in the sunshine that she wanted nothing else. So
when breakfast was over, she ran out and began to wander about,
looking at all the new things—quite new most of them were to her.
Different flowers grew here from those that filled the garden at home,
and they were so nice to smell, even if she might not pick them. In
one corner grew a bush of a great feathery shrub that she had never
seen before. She walked round and round it, and longed to have one
of the long feathery switches for a wand, such as fairies use.
 Just as she was thinking how much she would like this, a young
man came across the lawn with the mowing-machine. He looked
good-natured, Peggy thought, and she wondered if she might ask
him about the wand. She did not know his name, however, and felt a
little shy. She stood still, with her finger in her mouth (a bad habit she
had), and watched him while he poured oil into the little holes of the
mowing-machine. Then she summoned up courage to speak to him.
“Man,” she said, in a very shy voice—“man, I would like one of
these branches for a fairy-wand; do you think I might have one?”
She pointed to the bush.
He looked up with a grunt and a laugh, flung down the oil-can,
and drew a big clasp-knife out of his pocket. “One o’ thae yins?” he
asked in a kind voice.
She nodded, and pointed to the branch she specially desired.
“What’s your name, please?” she asked.
“James, missie,” he said, hacking away at the branch while he
spoke, and in a minute he handed her the lovely long spray she had
wanted.
Oh, what a wand it was!—longer a great deal than herself, and so
supple that it bent just like a whip.
“See here, missie,” said James; “ye’ll no can manage it that way;
I’ll peel it to ye.” He took the branch and began peeling off the outer
skin till it showed a satin-like white wood.
“Oh, let me peel!” cried Peggy; and together they peeled away till
the branch was bare—all except a beautiful bunch like a green tassel
at the tip.
With this in her hand, Peggy walked away across the lawn, and
you may fancy how delightful it was. She pretended she was a fairy
queen, and a touch of her wand would do whatever she chose. She
walked about muttering charms to the flowers, and then saw her
friend Patrick lying on a bank. She graciously extended the tip of her
wand to him, and he played with it for a minute quite like a kitten.
 But then it struck her that she
would walk round the house. And
outside one of the windows she saw
the funniest thing hanging. It looked
like a little bottle made of flimsy gray
paper. She wondered what it could
possibly be; and standing right under
it, she poked up her hand and tickled
the mouth of the gray-paper bottle.
The next moment, she heard a terrible
buzzing noise, and a cloud of wasps
came flying down upon her. Peggy
never knew what she did. Down went
the wand, and she screamed aloud, for
the wasps were stinging her all over
her hands and face. The next moment
James came running up the bank to her. He caught her up in his
arms and ran across the lawn. They both seemed surrounded and
followed by the wasps, and a new sting came on poor Peggy’s face
or neck every moment. There was a gate in the garden wall, and
James ran to the gate, opened it, and crossed the road. The next
minute Peggy saw that he was wading into the sea with her and
dipping her under the water.
The wasps fell away in the distance, an angry, buzzing, black
cloud; and poor Peggy, more dead than alive, found herself being
carried back to the house, all her clothes dripping with the salt water.
James was dripping too, and moving his head in a queer way as if
his neck hurt him.
 CHAPTER III.
THE DOCTOR.

hough it was only ten o’clock in the morning,

Peggy was glad enough to be put to bed at
once when she got back to the house. Martin
and Aunt Euphemia rubbed all her stings with
washing-blue and earth, and after that the
worst of the pain went out of them. But how
Peggy’s head did begin to ache! Then she got
sleepy, and had funny dreams, and woke up
crying, and couldn’t eat the nice dinner Martin brought up to her.
Martin was quite kind too, and tried to get her to eat; but it was no
use—she did not want anything. It was very hot too—oh, so hot,
Peggy couldn’t lie still, and tumbled about in bed. At last, just when
she was so hot that she sat up to see if that would make her cooler,
Aunt Euphemia came in, bringing with her a strange man, who laid
Peggy down on the pillows again, and took hold of her wrist with one
hand, while he held his watch in the other.
“This is the doctor, Peggy,” said Aunt Euphemia in explanation.
“Do the stings hurt you still, Peggy?” he asked, pulling up her
sleeves to look at the marks on her arm. But Peggy scarcely knew
what hurt her most, her head was so sore, and she felt so sick.
“I am going to make you quite well,” the doctor said; “but you
must take something nasty first.”
He looked at Peggy and laughed.
Aunt Euphemia looked very stern. “I will make her take it!” she
said.
“Oh, Peggy is too good to need to be made to take things, I’m
sure,” said the doctor.
Peggy sat up suddenly in bed.
 “If you give it to me quick,” she said to the doctor, “I’ll take it!”
“Very well; here it is,” he said, shaking a powder into a glass, and
holding it out to Peggy.
Aunt Euphemia expected her to taste it and declare she couldn’t
take it; but Peggy drank the medicine right off without a word, and
lay down again.
“Poor little soul! Keep her in bed to-morrow, and I fancy she will
be all right next day,” said the doctor.—“Good-night, Peggy; go to
sleep, and if you are quite well on Thursday when I come you shall
have a ride on my horse.”
These were the last words Peggy heard, and she fell asleep very
soon, and slept all night long.
It is horrid to be kept in bed when one feels quite well. Peggy
wanted to get up and go out next day, and instead, had to lie still with
nothing to amuse her. The bed she was in was of a kind you never
see nowadays, with four huge mahogany pillars supporting red
damask curtains. It was just like sleeping in a tent.
Peggy found that by sitting high up on the pillows she could see
out of the window. The sea was right in front of the house, and a little
harbour filled with ships. There was a funny noise always going on at
the harbour, and Martin told her it was the ships being loaded with
coal. In the evening, just when Peggy was very dull, she saw a ship
with great white sails come floating along. There was scarcely any
wind, so every one of the sails was up, and it looked like a big white
bird. Then, as it came near the mouth of the harbour, it stood quite
still in the water, and a little steamer went puffing out to it. A rope
was thrown to the ship, and by this rope it was towed into the
harbour. Peggy could hear the men calling out to one another and
laughing.
“Maybe, if you are good, Miss Peggy, I’ll take ye down to the
harbour one day,” said Martin.
“Might I get on to one of the ships?” Peggy asked.
 “No, no—dirty places—all coal-dust; whatever would Miss
Roberts say to that?”
“Oh, but I would like to be on a ship, and the coal-dust would do
me no harm,” pleaded Peggy.
“There’s nothing but dirty Germans on the ships, Miss Peggy—
speaking like monkeys, and rings in their ears—Spanish, and Dutch,
and Italian, some of them. No, no; it’s no place for you!”
Peggy said no more. But, would you believe it, she decided that
she must see these men with rings in their ears, who spoke like
monkeys, however she managed it. And with this thought she fell
asleep.
Dr. Seaton came on Thursday, and by that time Peggy was quite
well, and out of bed again.
“May I take her down the avenue on my horse, Miss Roberts?” he
asked of Aunt Euphemia. “I promised her that I would.”
“Oh, don’t trouble with the child,” said Aunt Euphemia. “I mean to
take her for a drive with me this afternoon.”
There was a moment’s
pause, and Peggy looked very
hard at Dr. Seaton—very hard
indeed. A drive with Aunt
Euphemia would be quite
different from a ride with him,
she thought.
“Mayn’t I take her? She shall
not get into any mischief,” he
said.
Peggy gave his hand a little squeeze to show what she felt about
it, and Aunt Euphemia consented.
Dr. Seaton’s horse was tied to a ring at the door—a high, gray
beast. It had taken a mouthful of the earwig roses, and was
munching away at them when Peggy came down the steps.
 “O horse, there are such lots of earwigs in these roses,” she said
in disgust, “I am sure they can’t be nice to eat!”
Dr. Seaton laughed, and told Peggy the horse didn’t mind the
taste of earwigs a bit. Then he lifted her up on to the shiny saddle
that made a nice creaking noise, and gave her the reins into her own
hands, while he held her on. The horse stepped away down the
avenue so obediently, just as if he were quite accustomed to having
Peggy on his back. It was delightful, being so high up, and feeling
the horse move. Peggy thought it made up for the wasps.
“I’m glad the wasps made me ill,” she said, “or I wouldn’t have
had this ride.”
At the gate they came in sight of the sea, and Peggy
remembered what Martin had told her.
“Oh, Martin told me the men on the ships talked like monkeys
and had rings in their ears,” she said, “and I want to see them.”
“Have you never been on a ship?” Dr. Seaton asked.
“No, never. The sea doesn’t come near home, you know,” Peggy
explained.
“Well, would you like to come with me some day on to one?
Would Aunt Euphemia let you? I go to see a boy with a broken arm
on one of the ships. I’ll take you, if your aunt lets you come.”
Peggy was quite sure now that it was worth while being ill. Dr.
Seaton lifted her down off the horse, and told her to run back up the
avenue.
“I’d like just to kiss the horse’s nose first,” she said. “He has been
so nice.”
But Dr. Seaton suggested it would be wiser to pat him—just in
case he were to bite; so Peggy contented herself with this, and then
ran away up the avenue as pleased as possible.
 CHAPTER IV.
THE WHITE STONES.

artin will put on your hat and jacket, Peggy,

and you will come out for a nice drive with me
at three o’clock,” said Aunt Euphemia at lunch.
This seemed a pleasant thing to do, but Peggy
did not look pleased. She sat quite still and
made no answer.
“Don’t you wish to come?” asked Aunt
Euphemia at last.
“No,” said truthful Peggy. The fact was, she
had found such a delightful new game that she
wanted to go on playing it all the rest of her life.
“What would you do if you stayed at home?” asked Aunt
Euphemia.
Peggy would not say. It spoils a game so much to explain it to
other people.
“I’d just like to stay and play in the garden,” she said.
Aunt Euphemia was not at all pleased. She thought it was
because Peggy did not love her that she refused to go out with her.
“Very well,” she said; “of course, I do not wish to take a little girl
with me who does not care for me.”
Peggy felt sorry, but she couldn’t explain; it would have spoilt
everything, you know. She stood on the steps and watched Aunt
Euphemia drive away, and then she clapped her hands, and danced
off into the garden. A flight of old stone steps led down from one part
of the garden to another; beside the steps there was a rockery, and
Peggy had found among the stones a lot of lumps of soft white chalk.