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writing_shadowsSnapshots from the background of my new werewolf.
I guess this is also for the February challenge; as Verity and Frank do love each other.
For reference, this is set from November 1998 to May / June 1999
“How was your weekend Dafydd?”
Frank leaned against a gate post and watched his friend shovel coal into the forge.
“Not bad. Went to a Ren Faire, and got a bunch of orders. And my search for an apprentice is over.” Dafydd grinned at Frank. “Only taken me five years to find someone interested in learning the old craft.”
“Nice. What’s his name?”
“Her name is Verity.” Dafydd looked at the expression on Frank’s face and laughed. “She noticed the sign and before I knew it she’d convinced me that she was serious. Says she’s eighteen but,” Dafydd tapped his nose conspiratorially “she’s seventeen if she’s a day. Blodwen reckons she’s running away from something.”
“Really?” Footsteps sounded and the girl came round the corner of the forge carrying two buckets of water. It sloshed slightly as she tipped them into the trough, and she smiled shyly and shook Frank’s hand when introduced. Frank watched her walk away for more water and looked at Dafydd.
“That’s a London accent if ever I heard one. First time I’ve heard of someone running away from London to South Wales though. You reckon Blod’s right?”
“I dunno, but sometimes there’s something about her eyes. Like there’s something haunting her. But, she’s willing to learn, and Ianto says she can stay in the old caravan. Blod’s running her up a costume for when the tourists come round. Better she learns a trade and has a job here than end up on the streets innit?” Dafydd grinned. “Besides, you know my Blod. Mother hen she is, I stood no chance once she overheard Verity asking about the advert on the booth.”
***
Dafydd blew the candles out on his cake and everyone cheered. Weaving in between the group, Frank managed to get to where Verity was sitting near the fire and put a glass of lemonade in front of her.
“There you go. Sure you don’t want a proper drink?”
Verity shook her head and smiled in thanks. She sipped it as she watched Dafydd open the stack of presents that had been piled up on one of the tables, and didn’t attempt to move as Frank sat down beside her. They raised their glasses along with the rest of the group in a toast to the birthday boy and Frank found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She’d filled out somewhat over the last few months, a combination of working at the forge and Blodwen’s habit of having “leftover” stew that Verity could “eat up.” Calluses and burn marks now marked her hands and arms, and she could hold children spell bound as she showed them how to twist iron like barley sugar, or get a blade to shine like oil on water; leading Dafydd to wax lyrical about how she was a natural smith. But try as he might, and Frank prided himself on his ability to get anyone to talk, he’d failed miserably to get her to talk about her past. This evening had proved no different, as she skillfully deflected such questions no matter how innocuous they were.
He enjoyed a challenge he told himself, and eventually he’d get her to talk. And then maybe he’d be able to chase away whatever made her eyes so scared whenever he mentioned family or London.
Across the room Blodwen nudged her husband’s attention to where Frank was talking to Verity. Dafydd shook his head at his wife’s matchmaking, but the next day he invited her to supper with him and Blodwen, where Blod asked if Verity had enjoyed the party and then gossiped about everyone present; her dark eyes flashing when Verity showed signs of having enjoyed talking to Frank. She even managed to get Verity to reveal her birthday, and squirreled that information away for later use.
***
“You set us up! Frank looked at Blodwen with an amused expression. She looked back at him with an unrepentant grin.
“Did it work?” A cup of tea and a slice of fruit cake materialised on the kitchen table in front of him. Frank laughed and sat down opposite her.
“Not sure. We had a very nice evening, and she accepted an invitation back for coffee. Where” he continued holding up an admonitory finger “she spent the night in the spare room. I was the perfect gentleman.”
“I didn’t imagine you wouldn’t have been. So do you know anything more about her? What did you talk about?”
“I now know she prefers ketchup to brown sauce in her bacon sandwiches. Apart from that,” Frank shrugged “nothing really. We chatted about the point of re-enacting the past, her apprentice piece, and the fact that she likes your oxtail stew. That was pretty much it.”
Blodwen smiled.
“So do you have another date, or do you need me to set you up again?”
“I’m working on it! I’ve not had a chance to drop round to the smithy yet.” Blodwen smiled.
“Well, do you think she’d like a surprise party? Her birthday’s coming up. I was thinking chocolate cake.” Frank frowned.
“It is? How did you find that out?”
“Chatted to her about star signs, and it slipped out. Hers is 1 May, which is two weeks this Saturday. Plenty of time for us to sort out a party. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a scheming woman, and I like you.” Frank lifted his cup in a salute. “And chocolate cake sounds perfect.”
***
Verity turned over as she woke up, and then sat bolt upright in shock. The movement made her head pound and she winced slightly. Beside her Frank blinked and looked concerned.
“Good morning. You ok?”
She pulled the duvet up to her neck, and blinked rapidly.
“My head hurts.”
“That’ll be all the home brew cider you drank last night.” Frank sat up and tentatively gave her a hug. “Although you didn’t seem that drunk to me; are you ... are we ok?”
“Um, no. I mean yes; we’re ok and no, I didn’t feel that drunk either. But now I have a headache.”
“Probably dehydration, I’ll get you a drink of water.” He pulled on a bathrobe, padded out to the bathroom and came back with a tooth mug of water for her. “I’m going to have a shower and then would you like breakfast?”
“I’m going to be late for work.”
“I’ll give you a lift. You really need to eat something. Besides, I reckon Dafydd will have a hangover as well considering how much home brew he had. I reckon he drank half of that cider by himself.” He tousled her hair. “Or I can call Blod and tell her to tell him you’re not well?”
“No, I, I guess breakfast is a good idea.” He left her sipping the water and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror wryly. Last night had been unexpected in many ways, and he had a couple of interesting bite marks to prove it.
Dafydd was feeling as delicate as Frank had predicted and so didn’t say anything when Verity and Frank arrived slightly late; but hand in hand. Verity blushed slightly as Frank offered to meet her after work and take her to the chippy, smiling slightly self consciously as she said yes.
Blodwen however waylaid Frank on his way out, her beaming grin saying more than words could ever manage.
***
Verity stared at the white plastic stick in horror. The MAP hadn’t worked, and a tiny blue line shattered her life.
You shouldn’t have children unless you’re able to take care of them. The memory of her father’s words came back to her. She blinked back tears, and then fought down the urge to smash everything around her, to destroy the world in rage. She counted to ten slowly, breathing in and out to calm herself; and then grabbed her coat.
It was raining outside. Typical Wales, it was nearly June and yet the skies were grey and the water was coming down in sheets. Verity put a hand in a pocket and counted her change. She had just enough money for the bus fare, or chips. Not both.
She shrugged and started to splash down the path to the bus stop. Rabbit for dinner it was then. The run would do her good.
***
Frank had been pleased to see her, although he scolded her for not calling him and asking for a lift. He put the kettle on as she dripped in the kitchen, and chattered away about how awful the weather was.
Verity took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something. And I’m really, really sorry.” He turned and looked at her quizzically, moving to hug her. She backed away slightly, and blurted “I’m pregnant.”
His mouth dropped open for a few seconds, and he started to speak then stopped a few times.
“Well, that’s a bit of a turn up isn’t it? Well don’t you worry sweetheart. We’ll manage. Do you want to get married or ...?”
“I can’t.”
“Well it’s your choice, but don’t dismiss it quite so quickly eh? Take a while to think about it?”
“I can’t. I’m fifteen.” The shock made him stand rigid. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean this to happen, I’m really sorry, but I can’t ... I can’t keep it.”
“You want to get rid of it?” Frank’s voice was slightly shaky.
“No, no I can’t, but I can’t ... it’s not possible for me to keep it. Just not possible. So I’m not going to have an abortion, but ...”
“Do I get a say in this? Verity, you want to give it to the state? You think that would be better?”
“Umm, look, I’m really sorry but I can’t explain. It’s complicated. But I’m not about to ruin your life for you. I just, I’m sorry...”
She turned and ran out of the house, leaving Frank staring after her in shock. She sprinted to catch the bus, ignoring Frank calling after her, running after her.
Frank swore and went back into his house. He found his coat and car keys, put them on the kitchen table before finishing making himself a cup of tea.
“Give her some time to calm down and then we can have a chat” He had a sudden thought and hunted out his address book. Scrawled at the bottom of a page was a telephone number, and a note of how many hours ahead South China was. “Better tell mum she’s going to be a grandmother, or she’ll never forgive me.”
***
Frank walked around the corner carry a shopping bag and looked at Verity’s caravan. The lights were on which was a good sign, and he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say to her once more. He headed towards the steps that led up to the door when he heard a scrabbling sound from the end of the caravan. He frowned and quietly walked to look around the corner, just in time to see a wolf jump from the window. He blinked at the sight.
“Definitely not a dog.” he thought to himself. It shook itself slightly and started to lope off towards the fields. “Now I know why she eats rabbit so often.”
He smiled to himself, and pulled a penknife out of his pocket. It was the work of moments to jog the lock and let himself in, and even less time to close the window that she’d propped open. He looked around the kitchen and opened the fridge, unsurprised to find the tail end of a pint of milk and nothing much else. He put in the milk and cheese he’d bought; and then put away the rest of the shopping he’d stopped to pick up. Whistling he started to do the washing up.
***
Verity trotted back to the caravan; two rabbits hanging limply from her mouth. As she neared it she was slightly surprised to see that the door was open, light spilling across the ground.
“Could have sworn I locked it.” Mentally she shrugged and padded up the steps.
She froze at an unexpected sound. “Someone is in here.” Her mind raced quickly. “Burglar? Nothing worth stealing, but they won’t know that. Oh well, he’s going to be in for a shock. Mustn’t kill him, must control myself.”
“Hello there beautiful.” Frank walked out of the bedroom and grinned at her. There was a thump as she dropped the rabbits in shock. She backed away, intending to turn and run when a gust of wind caught the door and it slammed shut. The sound of the lock sounded loudly.
“Crap, oh crap. Now what do I do?” She shrunk backwards as he came to pick up the rabbits; then grinning he ruffled her ears. “Does he think I’m a dog?” She resisted the urge to lick his hands, whining slightly in her confusion.
“I put your clothes in the bedroom. Cup of tea?” He walked to the back of the caravan and put the rabbits in the sink before filling the kettle. “I brought you some milk. Wasn’t sure if you’d had a chance to go to the supermarket.” He looked back to where she was staring at him. “Or is this the point where I’m supposed to scream in terror and run away from the big, scary werewolf?”
Verity shifted form until she was human, kneeling in the doorway. She continued to stare at him, her mouth attempting to form words.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the view, but you’ll catch cold if you don’t get dressed. Go on, I’ll make you a cup of tea. What were you going to do with the rabbits?”
Verity found her voice.
“Umm, stew for tomorrow. I ... already ate some.” Frank nodded, and went into the bedroom. He emerged with the scruffy tracksuit she used as nightwear and tossed it to her.
“Get dressed sweetheart. You’re shivering.”
Verity struggled into her clothes, her hands shaking slightly. Frank handed her a mug of hot tea and sat down with one for himself.
“Right. Where do you want to start?”
“Are you a werewolf too?” Verity swallowed slightly.
“Me? Goodness no. You don’t have to worry about that. My mum is, and my granny. Scariest ladies I know. But no, I’ve never changed.” Verity visibly relaxed, and crossed her legs before drinking her tea. “Is this why you can’t keep our baby?”
“Werewolves aren’t good parents. Children are too ... breakable.”
A slightly bleak expression went across Frank’s face.
“You sound like that’s from experience. One of your parents a werewolf?” Verity nodded.
“My dad. Wasn’t around much. Then he came back. I had to leave” she whispered. “Do you know what kind of werewolf your mum is?”
“She’s not Pure if that’s what you’re worried about. But no, I don’t know much else. You can ask her if you like.” Frank looked at her. “Now, this has got to be your choice. But I’m not going to leave you to cope with this on your own. You don’t have to give the child up because you’ll be on your own, and might hurt them. I’ll be with you. I’ll look after them.” Verity looked at him.
“I’m scared. I mean, what do I do? Childbirth is all pain and scary, what if I can’t control myself? I could kill someone!”
“Well, how about I call my mum and ask her to come see you. She’s had kids, she’ll know about that stuff.” Verity nodded slightly. “Now you look tired. Howabout you go to bed and we talk some more in the morning?”
“Are you going to stay?”
“If you want me to I will.” Verity nodded ever so slightly. “Ok then. I’ll sleep on your sofa.”
“But ...” Verity looked lost. “It gets very cold out here. You’ll be better off in the bedroom.” Frank raised an eyebrow.
“Verity, you’ve just told me you’re fifteen...” He sighed as she looked at him, hurt in her eyes. “ok, but, no ...”
“No hanky panky?” He nodded and grinned.
“Not until I can make an honest woman of you. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I guess this is also for the February challenge; as Verity and Frank do love each other.
For reference, this is set from November 1998 to May / June 1999
“How was your weekend Dafydd?”
Frank leaned against a gate post and watched his friend shovel coal into the forge.
“Not bad. Went to a Ren Faire, and got a bunch of orders. And my search for an apprentice is over.” Dafydd grinned at Frank. “Only taken me five years to find someone interested in learning the old craft.”
“Nice. What’s his name?”
“Her name is Verity.” Dafydd looked at the expression on Frank’s face and laughed. “She noticed the sign and before I knew it she’d convinced me that she was serious. Says she’s eighteen but,” Dafydd tapped his nose conspiratorially “she’s seventeen if she’s a day. Blodwen reckons she’s running away from something.”
“Really?” Footsteps sounded and the girl came round the corner of the forge carrying two buckets of water. It sloshed slightly as she tipped them into the trough, and she smiled shyly and shook Frank’s hand when introduced. Frank watched her walk away for more water and looked at Dafydd.
“That’s a London accent if ever I heard one. First time I’ve heard of someone running away from London to South Wales though. You reckon Blod’s right?”
“I dunno, but sometimes there’s something about her eyes. Like there’s something haunting her. But, she’s willing to learn, and Ianto says she can stay in the old caravan. Blod’s running her up a costume for when the tourists come round. Better she learns a trade and has a job here than end up on the streets innit?” Dafydd grinned. “Besides, you know my Blod. Mother hen she is, I stood no chance once she overheard Verity asking about the advert on the booth.”
Dafydd blew the candles out on his cake and everyone cheered. Weaving in between the group, Frank managed to get to where Verity was sitting near the fire and put a glass of lemonade in front of her.
“There you go. Sure you don’t want a proper drink?”
Verity shook her head and smiled in thanks. She sipped it as she watched Dafydd open the stack of presents that had been piled up on one of the tables, and didn’t attempt to move as Frank sat down beside her. They raised their glasses along with the rest of the group in a toast to the birthday boy and Frank found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She’d filled out somewhat over the last few months, a combination of working at the forge and Blodwen’s habit of having “leftover” stew that Verity could “eat up.” Calluses and burn marks now marked her hands and arms, and she could hold children spell bound as she showed them how to twist iron like barley sugar, or get a blade to shine like oil on water; leading Dafydd to wax lyrical about how she was a natural smith. But try as he might, and Frank prided himself on his ability to get anyone to talk, he’d failed miserably to get her to talk about her past. This evening had proved no different, as she skillfully deflected such questions no matter how innocuous they were.
He enjoyed a challenge he told himself, and eventually he’d get her to talk. And then maybe he’d be able to chase away whatever made her eyes so scared whenever he mentioned family or London.
Across the room Blodwen nudged her husband’s attention to where Frank was talking to Verity. Dafydd shook his head at his wife’s matchmaking, but the next day he invited her to supper with him and Blodwen, where Blod asked if Verity had enjoyed the party and then gossiped about everyone present; her dark eyes flashing when Verity showed signs of having enjoyed talking to Frank. She even managed to get Verity to reveal her birthday, and squirreled that information away for later use.
“You set us up! Frank looked at Blodwen with an amused expression. She looked back at him with an unrepentant grin.
“Did it work?” A cup of tea and a slice of fruit cake materialised on the kitchen table in front of him. Frank laughed and sat down opposite her.
“Not sure. We had a very nice evening, and she accepted an invitation back for coffee. Where” he continued holding up an admonitory finger “she spent the night in the spare room. I was the perfect gentleman.”
“I didn’t imagine you wouldn’t have been. So do you know anything more about her? What did you talk about?”
“I now know she prefers ketchup to brown sauce in her bacon sandwiches. Apart from that,” Frank shrugged “nothing really. We chatted about the point of re-enacting the past, her apprentice piece, and the fact that she likes your oxtail stew. That was pretty much it.”
Blodwen smiled.
“So do you have another date, or do you need me to set you up again?”
“I’m working on it! I’ve not had a chance to drop round to the smithy yet.” Blodwen smiled.
“Well, do you think she’d like a surprise party? Her birthday’s coming up. I was thinking chocolate cake.” Frank frowned.
“It is? How did you find that out?”
“Chatted to her about star signs, and it slipped out. Hers is 1 May, which is two weeks this Saturday. Plenty of time for us to sort out a party. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a scheming woman, and I like you.” Frank lifted his cup in a salute. “And chocolate cake sounds perfect.”
Verity turned over as she woke up, and then sat bolt upright in shock. The movement made her head pound and she winced slightly. Beside her Frank blinked and looked concerned.
“Good morning. You ok?”
She pulled the duvet up to her neck, and blinked rapidly.
“My head hurts.”
“That’ll be all the home brew cider you drank last night.” Frank sat up and tentatively gave her a hug. “Although you didn’t seem that drunk to me; are you ... are we ok?”
“Um, no. I mean yes; we’re ok and no, I didn’t feel that drunk either. But now I have a headache.”
“Probably dehydration, I’ll get you a drink of water.” He pulled on a bathrobe, padded out to the bathroom and came back with a tooth mug of water for her. “I’m going to have a shower and then would you like breakfast?”
“I’m going to be late for work.”
“I’ll give you a lift. You really need to eat something. Besides, I reckon Dafydd will have a hangover as well considering how much home brew he had. I reckon he drank half of that cider by himself.” He tousled her hair. “Or I can call Blod and tell her to tell him you’re not well?”
“No, I, I guess breakfast is a good idea.” He left her sipping the water and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror wryly. Last night had been unexpected in many ways, and he had a couple of interesting bite marks to prove it.
Dafydd was feeling as delicate as Frank had predicted and so didn’t say anything when Verity and Frank arrived slightly late; but hand in hand. Verity blushed slightly as Frank offered to meet her after work and take her to the chippy, smiling slightly self consciously as she said yes.
Blodwen however waylaid Frank on his way out, her beaming grin saying more than words could ever manage.
Verity stared at the white plastic stick in horror. The MAP hadn’t worked, and a tiny blue line shattered her life.
You shouldn’t have children unless you’re able to take care of them. The memory of her father’s words came back to her. She blinked back tears, and then fought down the urge to smash everything around her, to destroy the world in rage. She counted to ten slowly, breathing in and out to calm herself; and then grabbed her coat.
It was raining outside. Typical Wales, it was nearly June and yet the skies were grey and the water was coming down in sheets. Verity put a hand in a pocket and counted her change. She had just enough money for the bus fare, or chips. Not both.
She shrugged and started to splash down the path to the bus stop. Rabbit for dinner it was then. The run would do her good.
Frank had been pleased to see her, although he scolded her for not calling him and asking for a lift. He put the kettle on as she dripped in the kitchen, and chattered away about how awful the weather was.
Verity took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something. And I’m really, really sorry.” He turned and looked at her quizzically, moving to hug her. She backed away slightly, and blurted “I’m pregnant.”
His mouth dropped open for a few seconds, and he started to speak then stopped a few times.
“Well, that’s a bit of a turn up isn’t it? Well don’t you worry sweetheart. We’ll manage. Do you want to get married or ...?”
“I can’t.”
“Well it’s your choice, but don’t dismiss it quite so quickly eh? Take a while to think about it?”
“I can’t. I’m fifteen.” The shock made him stand rigid. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean this to happen, I’m really sorry, but I can’t ... I can’t keep it.”
“You want to get rid of it?” Frank’s voice was slightly shaky.
“No, no I can’t, but I can’t ... it’s not possible for me to keep it. Just not possible. So I’m not going to have an abortion, but ...”
“Do I get a say in this? Verity, you want to give it to the state? You think that would be better?”
“Umm, look, I’m really sorry but I can’t explain. It’s complicated. But I’m not about to ruin your life for you. I just, I’m sorry...”
She turned and ran out of the house, leaving Frank staring after her in shock. She sprinted to catch the bus, ignoring Frank calling after her, running after her.
Frank swore and went back into his house. He found his coat and car keys, put them on the kitchen table before finishing making himself a cup of tea.
“Give her some time to calm down and then we can have a chat” He had a sudden thought and hunted out his address book. Scrawled at the bottom of a page was a telephone number, and a note of how many hours ahead South China was. “Better tell mum she’s going to be a grandmother, or she’ll never forgive me.”
Frank walked around the corner carry a shopping bag and looked at Verity’s caravan. The lights were on which was a good sign, and he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say to her once more. He headed towards the steps that led up to the door when he heard a scrabbling sound from the end of the caravan. He frowned and quietly walked to look around the corner, just in time to see a wolf jump from the window. He blinked at the sight.
“Definitely not a dog.” he thought to himself. It shook itself slightly and started to lope off towards the fields. “Now I know why she eats rabbit so often.”
He smiled to himself, and pulled a penknife out of his pocket. It was the work of moments to jog the lock and let himself in, and even less time to close the window that she’d propped open. He looked around the kitchen and opened the fridge, unsurprised to find the tail end of a pint of milk and nothing much else. He put in the milk and cheese he’d bought; and then put away the rest of the shopping he’d stopped to pick up. Whistling he started to do the washing up.
Verity trotted back to the caravan; two rabbits hanging limply from her mouth. As she neared it she was slightly surprised to see that the door was open, light spilling across the ground.
“Could have sworn I locked it.” Mentally she shrugged and padded up the steps.
She froze at an unexpected sound. “Someone is in here.” Her mind raced quickly. “Burglar? Nothing worth stealing, but they won’t know that. Oh well, he’s going to be in for a shock. Mustn’t kill him, must control myself.”
“Hello there beautiful.” Frank walked out of the bedroom and grinned at her. There was a thump as she dropped the rabbits in shock. She backed away, intending to turn and run when a gust of wind caught the door and it slammed shut. The sound of the lock sounded loudly.
“Crap, oh crap. Now what do I do?” She shrunk backwards as he came to pick up the rabbits; then grinning he ruffled her ears. “Does he think I’m a dog?” She resisted the urge to lick his hands, whining slightly in her confusion.
“I put your clothes in the bedroom. Cup of tea?” He walked to the back of the caravan and put the rabbits in the sink before filling the kettle. “I brought you some milk. Wasn’t sure if you’d had a chance to go to the supermarket.” He looked back to where she was staring at him. “Or is this the point where I’m supposed to scream in terror and run away from the big, scary werewolf?”
Verity shifted form until she was human, kneeling in the doorway. She continued to stare at him, her mouth attempting to form words.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the view, but you’ll catch cold if you don’t get dressed. Go on, I’ll make you a cup of tea. What were you going to do with the rabbits?”
Verity found her voice.
“Umm, stew for tomorrow. I ... already ate some.” Frank nodded, and went into the bedroom. He emerged with the scruffy tracksuit she used as nightwear and tossed it to her.
“Get dressed sweetheart. You’re shivering.”
Verity struggled into her clothes, her hands shaking slightly. Frank handed her a mug of hot tea and sat down with one for himself.
“Right. Where do you want to start?”
“Are you a werewolf too?” Verity swallowed slightly.
“Me? Goodness no. You don’t have to worry about that. My mum is, and my granny. Scariest ladies I know. But no, I’ve never changed.” Verity visibly relaxed, and crossed her legs before drinking her tea. “Is this why you can’t keep our baby?”
“Werewolves aren’t good parents. Children are too ... breakable.”
A slightly bleak expression went across Frank’s face.
“You sound like that’s from experience. One of your parents a werewolf?” Verity nodded.
“My dad. Wasn’t around much. Then he came back. I had to leave” she whispered. “Do you know what kind of werewolf your mum is?”
“She’s not Pure if that’s what you’re worried about. But no, I don’t know much else. You can ask her if you like.” Frank looked at her. “Now, this has got to be your choice. But I’m not going to leave you to cope with this on your own. You don’t have to give the child up because you’ll be on your own, and might hurt them. I’ll be with you. I’ll look after them.” Verity looked at him.
“I’m scared. I mean, what do I do? Childbirth is all pain and scary, what if I can’t control myself? I could kill someone!”
“Well, how about I call my mum and ask her to come see you. She’s had kids, she’ll know about that stuff.” Verity nodded slightly. “Now you look tired. Howabout you go to bed and we talk some more in the morning?”
“Are you going to stay?”
“If you want me to I will.” Verity nodded ever so slightly. “Ok then. I’ll sleep on your sofa.”
“But ...” Verity looked lost. “It gets very cold out here. You’ll be better off in the bedroom.” Frank raised an eyebrow.
“Verity, you’ve just told me you’re fifteen...” He sighed as she looked at him, hurt in her eyes. “ok, but, no ...”
“No hanky panky?” He nodded and grinned.
“Not until I can make an honest woman of you. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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Date: 2010-01-29 10:27 pm (UTC)She is going to get a shock when she finds out she has more family! :D
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Date: 2010-01-29 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 12:28 pm (UTC)