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by Seraphina Parts 11-15 Part 11 "You did what?!!!!" "I used your credit card." *Can�t say I didn�t try,* Richard thought to himself. *Oh well, at least it makes for interesting filming.* "Why didn�t you use your own money?" "Well, cheques take such a long time to clear, I didn�t have time to go make a withdrawal and you know I don�t use plastic, it only leads me to impulse buying." "So you use my plastic to impulse buy instead?! Well that�s just nice that is. You didn�t even ask if you could use it." "Don�t worry, I�ll reimburse you in full." She said sincerely. Paul snorted. "When? I can�t see it happening any time soon." She looked at him, expressionless. "I�ve left everything I have to you in my will. When I die, I�ll have paid you back over one-thousand fold. I�ve got quite a hefty inheritance as you well know." Everyone was silent. Richard stood dumbly filming the whole scene, Tim suddenly found his shoes to be very interesting, Paul�s face was unreadable. "To me?" he asked, unsure if this was just a charade and there was some trickery lurking behind it. "Well, I haven�t got any relatives left living unless you count Uncle Peter but we don�t talk about him since he became Aunty Peta�or was it Aunty Peta who became Uncle Peter?" she shook her head, deciding that it wasn�t important. "But that�s another story that we�ll save for one of those opportune moments around a camp fire�sausage anyone?" She was trying to lighten the mood but it was far from working. Paul got up and walked back into the house. Sara looked apprehensively at Paul�s retreating back, at the food cooking in front of her and then to Tim and Richard. "I guess I should go after him." "It�s probably a good idea," Tim agreed. "Rich and I will watch the barbi for you." She undid the apron she was wearing as she entered the house, and wiped her hands on it before setting it down on the kitchen bench. Paul stood out from the sink a little, hands braced on the bench, head hanging. Sara stood nervously in the middle of the kitchen, her hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched and rigid as she bounced tensely on the balls of her feet. For a moment there was silence and then Paul spoke. "I had no idea," his voice sounded choked, his back towards her as he raised his head. "The issue hadn�t even entered my mind." He turned slowly and looked at her. His face contorted in a show of hurt and pain. He cried. "I just don�t understand how you can talk so calmly about this whole thing. You haven�t even gone yet and God, I miss you so much already." She rushed forward to comfort him but he ushered her away, wanting to finish what he was saying. "I�ve acknowledged the fact that you won�t be around forever but it hurts me to know that the one thing that I want from life, I can�t have. I want us to be able to end this relationship of our own accord, over some meagre argument, not have it cut short by something we have no control over. I want to be able to protect you, but I can�t, not from this. But, I can live with that, it�s hard but I can deal by just forgetting about it and meandering through this useless existence. Truth be known, I don�t think about it any more because it hurts. So when you go and just bring it up like that�you seem so brave, accepting your fate and talking about the future that will be after you�re gone. I can�t do that. I can�t even bare to think about having to continue living after your death." The tears fell freely and he didn�t try to stop them. There were just some times when pure, raw emotion was the only way to convey the way you really felt. This was one of those times. He didn�t think that he�d explained it to her substantially. This time, he let her comfort him. She took him in her arms and held him like a small child as he cried into her shoulder. "Paul," she sighed, trying to find the right words. She�d never once thought that she would have to comfort him like this, she�d always thought it would be the other way round. "Death is not a word Paul, it�s a reality. Everyone dies, it�s just a part of life and sadly, I�m going to have to face that part sooner rather than later. You just have to learn to let go." "I don�t think I can." He sobbed. It unhinged her to see him like this. He wasn�t really one for tears but she guessed that everyone had the ability to come unstuck given the right situation. "When the time comes, you�ll be able to because I love you and you love me and because�" she paused to compose herself. "�because you have to." He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes before cupping her face in his hands and kissing her. At first it was a slow, passionate kiss but it soon became more frantic and urgent as they both felt the need to be as close to one another as possible, to verify the bond between them. He backed her towards the couch and they both tumbled over the back of it, onto the soft, warn cushions. Paul paused and pulled abruptly away from her. "We can�t�" he began. Sara looked up at him pleadingly. He gave her an uncertain look. "But what about Tim and Rich?" "There�s a camcorder and plenty of food out there. Trust me, they�ll be occupied for hours." This seemed reassurance enough and it wasn�t long before they were both in the throes of passion. Part 12 "Hey dog, wanna sausage?" Tim asked teasingly, waving a sausage in the direction of Tiny who was pacing up and down the length of his new dog pen. He was frustrated (well as close to frustrated as a dog can get) and was trying to work a way in which he could get out of the �jail� he was in, and get the sausage, preferably causing injury to the annoying beanpole that was waving it at him. "Tim, don�t tease him." Richard said, still mucking around with the camera. A series of loud moans drifted out from the direction of the lounge room. "Well at least they seem to have worked things out for the better." he added. "Yeah, but that doesn�t excuse the fact that they�ve left us out here with nothing to do but talk to the dog." He went back to tormenting Tiny with the sausage. The huge animal had begun to throw himself against the wire door of the pen, the force of his body weight shaking the whole structure. "Yeah, try and get the sausage you stupid mutt." Richard sighed, shook his head and pointed the camera at Tim. "Tim, I really think that you should stop doing that." "Why, it�s not as if he�s gonna-" There was a loud crash as Tiny broke through the wire, the entire wall of the holding pen fell to the ground. And once again, the chase was on. "AHHHHHHHHH!" Tim screamed as he began racing around the backyard, Tiny hot on his heels. Richard laughed and made sure he was filming. Tim ran up one side of the house, his yelling and screaming, fading as he got further and further away and then increasing in volume as he came back up the other side of the house. He lapped the backyard several times before racing for the backdoor. Richard jumped to his feet. "Tim, don�t go in there!" he called out. "You�ll interupt-" He was cut off by a surprised cry from Sara and an angry roar from Paul. "What the fuck? Get the hell out of here Fergus- Ahhhhhhhhhh." A few seconds later, Tim and Paul emerged from the house, Tiny in close pursuit. At the same time as running, Paul was trying to do his pants up and rearrange his shirt. All three disappeared around the corner of the house as Sara stumbled out, her usually pale complexion was red from exertion and her clothes some what untidily thrown back on. "What the hell is going on?" she asked Richard who was trying very hard to keep the camera steady and rolling at the same time as pissing himself laughing. He couldn�t answer her, just pointed at the other side of the house as Tim, Paul and Tiny came rushing around the corner heading straight for the table of food. "LOOK OUT!" Sara yelled but it didn�t really make a difference. Tim managed to leap up onto the table, Paul dodged it but Tiny went barrelling right into it, sending Tim flying one way and half the food and the bottle of lighter fluid onto the barbecue. "HIT THE DECK!!!" Richard screamed diving onto the ground and covering his head. Sara followed his lead and Tim was already on the ground having been thrown off the table. Paul was about to do the same when he caught site of Tiny, next to the barbecue, hoeing into a pile of raw hamburgers. He took a running jump, pushing Tiny out of the way, shielding him by smothering him with his body just as the barbecue exploded into a giant fire ball. After a while, they decided it was safe enough to lift their heads, not that there was much left to see. All that was left was the burning remains of the barbecue and the table. "Good thing I left the pav inside," Sara said. Five hours, a fire truck and a police officer later, Tim and Richard said their farewells, leaving Paul and Sara to clean up what little remains of food there was. "And you thought there would be heaps left overs," Paul said mockingly. "Yes but I didn�t plan on having a fire bomb take out half the backyard." She pointed out. Paul chuckled and sat down on the couch. "Well at least we�ll never forget our three year anniver--- WHAT THE?" Sara looked up to see what the problem is. Paul was staring disgustedly at the space beside him. "What?" He looked up at her, his face full of rage. "I should�ve let that dog fry when I had the chance." Part 13 "You�re crying!" "I�m not crying!" "Yes you are, you�re crying!" "Ok, I�m crying but that�s only because this is a sad moment." "Paul, the dog vomited on your couch. The only sad thing about it is that it smells better than it did before." Paul looked up at her angrily from where he knelt in front of the couch. Clad in rubber gloves and armed with a spray bottle of household cleaner, he was vainly attempting to scrub the stain kindly left by Tiny, out of the couch cushion. "As terms that you were allowed to get a dog, I thought I told you to stop picking on my couch." "And I thought I repeatedly told you not to feed the dog, pavlova. He�s lactose intolerant." "Bullshit!" He stood huffily. "�He�s lactose intolerant.� That�s crap! He just chucked on MY couch to spite me because he knows I hate him." "Yeah, that�s right Paul," she said sarcastically. "The dog harbours feelings of resentment towards you and is always out, seeking revenge. And if you hate him so much, why did you save him today?" "I didn�t do it because I like him," he protested. "I was just running on instinct. I would have done the same if it had of been Richard eating those hamburgers off the ground�come to think of it, I probably would have regretted it just as much." "Paul!" She tried to give him a disapproving look but ended up trying not to laugh. She was saved by the phone ringing. "I saw that," he called after her as she went into the kitchen to answer the phone. "You laughed, you thought it was funny." "But it was still mean." She said before picking up the receiver. "Hello? Oh hi�she is? Yes, yes. That�s fine. Anything I can do to help�yep, sure. Bring them right over. Bye." She quickly hung up the phone and started running around, cleaning things up. "Uh�what are you doing?" Paul asked from his vantage point in front of the couch. "I�m cleaning up." She said, putting the remaining dirty plates in the dishwasher. "I can see that." He said impatiently, pulling off the gloves and throwing them on the coffee table. "What I meant was, why are you cleaning up?" "That was Calum McLachlan from next door. Are you going to leave those gloves there?" She pointed distractedly at the coffee table. "Anyway, Eleanor has just gone into labour. She�s at the hospital now but Calum is still at home, trying to find someone to take their other three kids for the night. We were his last resort so I said yes." "You did what?!" "Paul," she said pleadingly. "Show some compassion for once in your life." "I�m sorry, I don�t believe that �compassion� is in the Paul McDermott dictionary. You could try mentioning it to the editor. Besides, last time I showed compassion, I ended up with dog spew on my couch and I�m short of a barbecue and a outdoor table." "Well I�m sorry, but I�ve already said that we�d take them." "Well ring him back and say that you�ve changed your mind." The doorbell rang. "Too late." She said cheerfully. "Now put the gloves and cleaner away while I go let them in." She went off to answer the door, leaving Paul to silently seethe in the lounge room. Sometimes he wished that Sara wasn�t so Goddamn nice. In a huff, he grabbed the gloves and the spray bottle and stalked off to the kitchen to put them back in the cupboard under the sink. In the thirty seconds it took for him to do this and get back into the lounge room, Sara had re-entered with a little boy resting on one hip and another boy and a girl, trailing after her. Sara had previously done some babysitting for the McLachlan kids. Paul on the other hand, didn�t care much for children and had never met them before, only heard them yelling and screaming in their backyard. But now, it looked as if he was about to meet the producers of that wonderful sound that had woken him on Sunday mornings when all he had wanted to do was sleep. "Paul, I�d like you to meet Angus," she said, jiggling the boy on her hip who was now sucking his thumb. "He�s three." "�lo." Angus managed to say around his thumb. Next, Sara put her hand on the boy�s shoulder and nudged him forward a little. "This is Hamish, and he�s six, nearly seven." The boy shyly edged towards Sara�s leg, grabbed hold of it and buried his face in it. Sara ruffled his hair but otherwise left him alone. "And this-" "I�m Isabelle and I�m five." The girl cut in. Obviously the exact opposite to her older brother, she marched nonchalantly up to Paul. "Are you Miss Sara�s boyfriend?" "Yes I am." Paul said, trying to sound pleasant despite the feelings of dislike he was getting about this cocky little five year old. "You�re short." She stated before turning back to Sara who was trying hard not to laugh. "Miss Sara, I�m hungry. Daddy forgot to give us tea." Sara went into mini panic mode, racking her brain, trying to think of something to give them for dinner. "How about McDonalds? I can go and get you a Happy Meal each." Isabelle�s eyes lit up, Hamish seemed to forget to be shy and looked excited and Angus bounced in Sara�s arms. "Yes please Miss Sara. We only get McDonalds for a special treat." Isabelle said. "Then McDonalds it is." She hurried over to the kitchen bench, Angus still in her arms, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She then stopped, hurried back to where Paul stood, still pissed about being called short by some one a third his height. Before he could protest, she�d dumped Angus into his arms, ushered the two others towards him and hurried out the door. After a few seconds of silence, Isabelle tugged on his trouser leg. He looked down at her. "I think Miss Sara wants us to bond." Part 14 "Down, down, down." Angus said, squirming in Paul�s arms. Paul was only too happy to oblige to the three year olds wishes and put him down on the floor. Almost immediately, the little red-headed Angus began running around the lounge room and kitchen area, squealing as he went. A few seconds later, Hamish began crying. "I want my mummy! I wanna go home!" Paul, unsure of what to do in a situation such as this, looked to Isabelle for some kind of guidance. No help there. She just smiled up at him sweetly. He was on his own. *Ok McDermott* he thought to himself. *you can handle this, just take it one step at a time. First things first, stop the older one crying. Comfort the little brat in some way but try to refrain from strangling him* He knelt down in front of Hamish. Tears were streaming down the little boy�s face and his nose was running. Paul took a deep breath, and put his hands on Hamish�s shoulders. "Hamish, little mate. Stop your crying and listen to me for a sec." Surprisingly, the boy stopped his crying and looked wide-eyed at the man talking to him. Paul relaxed a little and continued with his efforts. "You can�t see your mum at the moment because she�s in the hospital, so it looks like you�re stuck here the night with me." What followed were about 15 seconds of silence in which Paul thought he had received a small victory before Hamish�s face contorted and he began a new and louder onslaught of wailing and howling. Paul cursed himself and scowled at the kid in front of him. *Ok, so we�ll try the squealing one instead.* He stood up and waited for little Angus to come running past him. When he did, Paul made a grab for him, holding him tightly around the waste. Angus� squeals grew twice as loud and on top of that, he was wiggling frantically, trying to get out of Paul�s grip. *Success* Paul thought. "Leave my brother alone you nasty, ugly, man," Isabelle screamed, digging her little fingers into Paul�s forearm. "Hey," Paul said indignantly. "Stop that." Deciding that she was going to have to take stronger measures, Isabelle let go of Paul�s arm. "Thankyou," Paul said. "I�m not going to hurt your brother I�m just trying to-yeowwwwww!" Isabelle�s teeth sank into Paul�s calf. In his pain, he let go of Angus who resumed his pelting around the house, accompanied by a high pitched squealing. "STOP RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE AND SHUTUP!!!!!!" Angus came to a sliding halt on the floorboards and stopped squealing, Hamish closed his mouth abruptly and was silent while Isabelle gave him a mild look of interest after unclamping her dentistry from his leg. "I�VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THIS," he yelled, his face turning a slight shade of purple. "YOU�RE GUESTS IN THIS HOUSE AND-" Isabelle started laughing. The other two followed suit soon after. "What? What�s so funny?" He asked in bewilderment. Isabelle stepped forward as, what would seem, the representative for the Spoilt Brat party. "You don�t know much about yelling at kids do you, Mister? She asked, clearly amused. Paul shifted uncomfortably. He didn�t like having his methods, in relation to anything, being questioned, let alone by an outspoken five year old who was too bold for her own good. She reminded him of himself at that age. "No I don�t because I was smart enough not to have any but I suppose you�re going to give me some tips on it all the same," he said, voice dripping with bitterness. "Yes I am," she said smiling graciously. "First, you don�t yell, you speak really softly �coz that�s scary to us kids. Second, fold your arms across your chest. And third, you have to make your face look nasty and scary but don�t worry if you can�t because your normal face is bad enough." A dark look swept Paul�s face. "WHY YOU LITTLE-" Isabelle stamped her foot impatiently. "I said speak softly." Paul stood up straight, folded his arms and looked down at them dangerously before saying softly, "If you three brats don�t settle down and be quiet, then watch out." Isabelle shrugged. "Not too bad but it still needs a little work because that threat on the end really sucked." She grabbed each of her brother�s by the hand. "Come on, let�s go and sit on the couch." She led them over to the sofa and they sat there for the next ten minutes in complete silence. Part 15 The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the silent house. "I�m home and I�ve got din�what�s going on?" Paul was standing, facing the wall, systematically hitting his forehead on it, The three kids were watching him, amused, but otherwise silent. "Kids, come and get your dinner," Sara said, dropping several take away bags on the table. The little people didn�t need to be told twice and ran to the table, eager for a junk food fix. "Paul, I want to talk to you." Paul stopped banging his head on the wall and walked reluctantly towards her. Isabelle tugged on Sara�s sleave. "Miss Sara, I think your boyfriend is a bit�" she crossed her eyes and pointed at her head. "You know, a bit der." Paul glared at her. She poked her tongue out at him before shovelling a handful of fries into her mouth. As soon as he was close enough, Sara grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him the short distance to the kitchen. "What�s wrong with you?" she asked, no emotion showing in her voice. "These kids are driving me mad," he answered through clenched teeth. She sighed and looked sympathetically at him. "Paul. I know you don�t like kids and I understand that, I really do, but it�s only for one night for Christ�s sake. They can�t be that bad." "Oh yes they can," he snorted. "And I�ve got the teeth marks to prove it." She looked at him sceptically, unsure of whether to take the remark seriously. "Look. How about if I take them home and stay the night at their place. You�ll have the whole house to yourself and they won�t bother you." He looked at her sulkily. "Can�t you take them home and then come back here?" She chuckled at the thought. "You know I can�t. They�re my responsibility. After they�ve finished their dinner, we�ll go and leave you in peace." She turned to go back to the family room but he grabbed her and pulled her into a loose embrace. "No. It�s OK. I�ll put up with the little shits for one night. Christ knows I�ve managed to put up with Rich and Tim for longer. Besides, I refuse to let you sleep anywhere but next to me tonight." He whispered in her ear. She pulled away from him slightly. "Well don�t go planning anything because we�ve got three little people sleeping just across the hall, who may wander in at any moment, wanting a glass of water." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and went back to the table, leaving Paul muttering something obscene about asphyxiation on Barbi dolls and Thomas the Tank. He didn�t go anywhere near the table until they had finished and run off to find something destructive to do. He was just finishing his coke when Hamish came running through the room, trying to escape Isabelle who was brandishing a paint brush above her head. "Stop!" yelled Paul and was pleasantly surprised when they both stopped dead in their tracks an looked at him expectantly. He stood and waltzed over to Isabelle. "Where did you get that?" he asked pointing at the brush grasped tightly in her small hand. She held it possessively to her chest. "I found it in the back room." "The back room is MY studio and that�s MY brush. Give it back." "What�s the magic word?" she asked cheekily. "Give it back, please." "Say pretty please." "Give it back, pretty please." He was beginning to get pissed off. "Pretty please with a cherry on top." "I�m allergic to cherries." Huh! Got her there. "Well, just say something else then." "Give it back, pretty please with a psychotic mass murdering child killer on top." She gave him a funny look. "You�re weird." But gave the brush back anyway and went off to find something else to do. Parts 16-20 A Long Time Dead index Back to DAAS Fiction Index Email Seraphina |
