|
by Seraphina Parts 16-20 Part 16 Paul finally got some peace and quiet when Sara decided that all three of them needed a bath before going to bed. Although he wasn�t to thrilled at the prospect of having them using his towels, his soap and his bath for that matter, it was still better than having them annoying him and smelling funny. He picked up the TV remote to change the channel from some childish program to something more intellectually stimulating. As his finger came into contact with the volume control, he looked down in disgust to find half the remote covered in strawberry icecream. Outraged, he went storming through the house to the bathroom, remote still in hand. Bursting through the bathroom door, he disregarded all advice Isabelle had given him on how to interrogate children and started yelling. "WHICH ONE OF YOU BRATS DID THIS?" All three looked at him startled from where they sat in the bath. Sara, who had been kneeling beside the tub, stood up to her full height- which wasn�t very much at all, even compared to Paul- and gave him a fed up look. "Calm down, Paul. For heaven�s sake. It�s only icecream, it�ll come off with a damp cloth." He ignored her and looked from one child to the next. His eyes came to rest on Angus, his face covered in something pink and sticky. "It was him," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Angus. "Look at him. He�s got icecream spread from arsehole to bloody breakfast time. He could have at least chosen a better bloody flavour." A bar of soap came hurtling through the air and he coped it right in the mouth. Spitting furiously, he tried to rid himself of the disgusting flavour before glaring angrily at an indignant looking Isabelle. "What the was that for you little shit?" "You�re using bad words. Now you have to wash your mouth out with soap." "GET FUCKED!" he spat. "Paul," Sara grated. "Watch your language. They�re very impressionable at this age." As if working towards proving Sara�s point, Angus started off his own chorus as well as a three year old can. "�et uck, �et uck, �et uck!" "Well done Paul," Sara said angrily. "Would you maybe like to teach him to sing some lewd song of yours? I�m sure Calum and Eleanor would be most appreciative of the gesture." Isabelle looked at him with mild interest. "You know some good songs? I like dogs. Do you know any songs about dogs?" An evil grin spread across his face, and he opened his mouth to begin. "Don�t even think about it McDermott!" Sara said, pushing him out of the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. "Hey, what about the remote? It�s still covered in bloody icecream," he called indignantly through the door. "GET FUCKED!" came a chorused reply. He smiled victoriously, despite himself and sighed. Little McDermotts in the making. Just what the world needed. Part 17 "Would you tell us a story before we go to bed Mr Paul?" He looked up from the newspaper that he had been brooding over for the past half hour after being kicked out of the bathroom. The two boys huddled behind Isabelle as she did the asking. Nothing seemed to perturb this young girl in the quest for getting what she wanted. Not even a complete and utter bastard, and a scary one at that, like Paul. Something struck him as odd, if not familiar, about their night attire. Hadn�t he seen those oversized t-shirts somewhere before?�yes, yes he had. Sara walked in at that moment. He glared at her. "They�re my fucking t-shirts! They�re wearing my fucking t-shirts! " "Paul, curb your language! And they�re wearing your t-shirts because in the rush to get them over here, Calum was a little less than unorganised." He peered viciously at Isabelle, Angus and Hamish through his glasses and then back up at Sara. "Why couldn�t they wear your t-shirts?" "I only have two t-shirts and they�re good ones," She said to him in an exasperated tone. "Bullsh�twang. You were wearing a t-shirt the other day when we were putting the dog run up for that stupid mutt of yours. Don�t even try saying that that was a good t-shirt because it was the ugliest thing I�ve ever seen." "Paul honey," she said sweetly, "That was your t-shirt." "Yes�uh�well," he mumbled trying in vain to come up with a substantial argument but failing miserably. He huffed. "They�ve only been here for a few hours and already they�re running my bloody life and no I wont tell you a Goddamn story," he said looking at the nastily. "Get �Miss Sara� to tell you one." he said, mimicking their name for her. Isabelle ran up to where he was sitting on the couch, put her hands on his knee and shook it by force. "But we want YOU to tell us a story." "No, and get your hands off me!" "Not until you tell us a story." The other two approached, although Hamish was a little more cautious than his younger siblings. Angus managed to climb up onto the couch beside Paul. Taking a hold of the grumpy male in question�s upper arm, Angus did the same thing to it as Isabelle was doing to Paul�s knee. Shaking it he began to chant. "Ory, ory, ory, ell uh ory." "What the hell did he just say?" Paul asked annoyed. Hamish looked out shyly from under long eye lashes. "He said �Story, story, story, tell us a story�," then added, "Please tell us a story." It was the first thing he�d heard Hamish say when he wasn�t crying and it softened him a little. He knew it had taken a lot of courage for the little bloke to come out and say that, especially when he himself was being a first rate arsehole. "Fine, I�ll tell you a freakin� story if it means you�ll bloody well shutup and go to bed afterwards." They all nodded frantically and took up their positions to hear the story. Hamish sat on the floor at Paul�s feet, Isabelle climbed up and sat next to him and Angus, much to Paul�s discretion, took a seat on his knee. There was a giggle from the doorway where Sara was standing, looking on with amusement before taking a seat in the recliner. He sneered at her with annoyance. "Yeah, go on. Have a laugh. Now what�ll it be? The Three Little Pricks? Willy Wanker and the Chocolate Factory? Pussy in boots?" Isabelle shook her head. "Snow White." "Ok, but I�m telling the story so it happens the way I want it. Any complaints and you can bloody well tell yourself a damn story." He looked at them for their agreement and then began the tale. Once upon a time, there lived a King and Queen who had a baby called Snow White. Snow white was very beautiful. Her hair was as black as ebony- "What�s ebony?" "It�s black wood that they used to hit kids on the knuckles with when they were naughty so shutup or you�ll get the same bloody treatment. I shall continue, shall I?" Her hair was as black as ebony, her lips blood red and her skin was as white as snow. "She sounds a lot like Miss Sara to me." "Yes she does, now shutup." Sadly, the Queen died, what a shame. Later, the King married again to Queen of a different nature. She was considered very beautiful among her kind and had won many drag competitions but that�s an entirely different story that we won�t go into. In her spare time, she was also a witch. She had a magic mirror which came in handy for many things such as cutting cocaine when she remembered to take it off the wall first. But mostly, she looked in it and said "Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all? And the mirror would always say: "You are fairest my Queen". Then one day, the mirror said "Snow White is the fairest you old bag." "It did not say that." "Didn�t I say that I�m telling this story my way?" "Yeah." "Then shutup." So the Queen got angry and called for a woodcutter to take Snow White into the forest where he was to kill her and bring her heart back as proof that he had carried out her wishes. When the woodcutter tried to do this, Snow White showed him a thing or two with her martial arts expertise, killed him, took his heart out instead and sent it to the Queen. "How did she send it if the woodcutter�s dead and can�t take it for her?" "She stopped off at the nearest post office and sent it express even though it cost her extra. Shutup and stop asking questions."� �And so, when the seven pimps came home from the streets of King�s Cross, they found Snow White on the floor. "She�s dead!" they cried and put her in a glass coffin which they carried to the mountains to bury her. All the animals followed bringing with them scented flowers to lay on her grave. On the way, they happened across a Prince who kissed Snow White. Low and behold, she woke from what had only been a deep, valium induced sleep. She told her story to the Prince who recognised the Queen as being an ex of his whom he was not quite over. On hearing that she had been killed by the pimps, he tried to avenge his love�s death but once again, Snow White used her martial arts skills to kick his pansy arse and save the day. She lived happily ever after with the pimps as a very successful street walker. THE END. Paul looked down to see Hamish yawn, his eyes heavy with fatigue. Isabelle was nodding off against his shoulder and Angus had long since fallen asleep leaning against his chest. "I guess we�d better get this lot off to bed then," said Sara, standing up from the recliner, walking over to the couch and picking up Isabelle. "Come on Hamish, up you get." Hamish stood wearily and followed her towards the spare room. There was nothing for Paul to do but carry Angus to bed. He stood carefully and quietly went after Sara. He lay Angus down next Hamish on the sofa bed and joined Sara in the doorway as she turned off the light. Turning to him, she said quietly: "You�d make a good father despite what you think." And walked off to their room, leaving him to have nightmarish thoughts of having to do this every night. Part 18 "What are you doing?" "What does it look like I�m doing?" "Putting on pyjamas." "Very good Paul. You�ve got more brains than I gave you credit for." "But you prefer to go without pyjamas. *I* prefer you to go without pyjamas." He was lying on their king size bed, watching Sara put on a pair of tartan, draw-string pyjama pants and a sleeveless white top. "I can�t just sleep naked. What if one of them comes in during the night?" She looked at him, "You might want to put a top on for that very same reason." He looked down at his blue striped pyjama pants and bare chest, then back up at her. "Get stuffed. I wear this every night and I�m not about to change for some kids who may or may not come wandering in here in the middle of the night." She threw a t-shirt at him. "Put it one, for me?" She gave him a begging look. With a fed up sigh, Paul begrudgingly donned the white t-shirt and scrambled under the blankets as Sara climbed in next to him. Reaching over to the bedside lamp, Sara turned it off and snuggled in next to Paul who put his arms around her. "Well what an eventful three year anniversary this has been," she whispered to him, reaching out to touch his face in the dark. "I love you Paul. No matter how stressful things get, and I promise you, things are bound to get stressful, I will always love you." "I love you too �Miss Sara�." She laughed softly, kissed him goodnight and drifted off to sleep. He was woken up half way through the night, by Angus crying. He was not impressed but Sara on the other hand, took it all in her stride. She flicked the bedside lamp on, nearly blinding him in the process. "Jesus Christ. Do you think you could tell me before you go doing that?" He winged, covering his eyes with his forearm. "Sorry," she said, dismissing his complaint quickly and leaving the room. Five minutes later, she was back but this time, she had a sobbing Angus in her arms. "What the bloody hell?" She looked at him apologetically, and climbed back into bed putting Angus between them. "He had a bad dream." "Well that doesn�t explain what his doing in here." "Well, I don�t want him to wake the others with his crying and he�s scared. He�s not used to these surroundings. He should be fine in a few minutes," she explained and flicked the lamp off again. "Great, this is just bloody fantastic. Not only have they invaded my home, abused me verbally and physically AND nicked my t-shirts, but now, they move in on my bed. Well it�s just not on, you hear me? Just not-" "Paul, shutup and go to sleep." Part 19 7:00am. She woke at the same time every morning no matter what day it was. Sometimes, she just lay there, silently reflecting, and contemplating her navel. Other times, she�d get up and go for a walk. Today was one of the latter times, the only reason being that she realised she didn�t have anything to give the kids for breakfast. Normally, she�d just have a piece of fruit and a coffee. Paul on the other hand, had �Fruit Loops�, but they were HIS �Fruit Loops� she�d been informed on numerous occasions and no one was allowed to touch them, not even Sara. She doubted that he�d share them willingly with three kids. She looked to her right to see Angus lying on his back but his head turned to face her. His left thumb was in his mouth and he was fast asleep. Behind him was Paul, lying on his side, also facing her. He definitely did not look his best when he was sleeping. His hair looked even worse than it did when he was awake, his mouth was hanging open, he was snoring, although not all that loudly and he was drooling into an already rather large wet patch on his pillow. What she found most surprising, if not adorable, was the fact that Paul�s right hand was in the small, yet tight grip of Angus. She got up carefully and quietly so as not to wake either of the sleeping �children�, grabbed some clothes and went off to the bathroom to shower and dress. There was a scratching at the back door as she came into the kitchen. As soon as she opened it, Tiny came racing in, running around the room and looking as if he�d gone mad. Before Sara shut the door again, she peered out into the backyard and sighed. The dog run that had taken an entire weekend of Paul whingeing to put up, was a complete shambles with one side of the fence completely blown off from the explosion and another side down after Tiny pushed it. Miraculously, the two other sides were still standing independently. There was a large black patch of ground, burnt in the middle of the yard. Thankfully, the fire department had been kind enough to dispose of what was left of the table and the barbecue, but the place still looked like a bomb had hit it. She laughed as she thought that it wasn�t far from the truth. Closing the door, she turned to Tiny who had settled down somewhat and was standing stock still, regarding her with a silly grin on his face. [yes a dog can have a silly grin on it�s face, mine does it all the time-sera] "You coming for a walk?" she asked with enthusiasm. Tiny stood still for about five more seconds then high tailed it in the direction of the master bedroom. "I�ll take that as a no," she said, grabbing her purse and sunglasses and heading for the back door so as not to disturb the sleeping occupants of the house. It was a little after 8:00am when she got back. The house was still silent but she hadn�t expected anyone to be up yet. Paul was definitely not a morning person and the three kids had gone to bed quite late considering the night before. Dropping a supermarket bag of �Rice Bubbles� and milk on the table, she went to check on Hamish and Isabelle whom she hadn�t seen since she put them to bed last night. Her heart came up into her throat when she opened the door to the spare room and found the sofa bed empty. Breaking out into a cold sweat, she quickly crossed the hall and poked her head through the doorway of the master bedroom. Her heart swelled with love at the sight before her. Not only was Angus in the bed with Paul but now so were Isabelle, Hamish and Tiny. Paul was lying in the middle of the bed, now on his back. Angus was lying on his side facing Paul, snuggled into the crook of the older male�s left arm. Isabelle was asleep on the other side of Paul, lying on her stomach with one arm flung across Paul�s chest, and Hamish on her other side. All were sleeping peacefully, although Tiny, who was sprawled across the end of the bed, lifted his head in interest but then put it back down when he saw she had nothing for him. Quickly and quietly, she rushed off to search the house frantically. "It�s got to be here somewhere, we were only using it yesterday. Shit," she cursed in frustration but then smiling with satisfaction when she found what she was looking for. Part 20 It wasn�t until 9:30am that Paul finally emerged from the bedroom and traipsed into the kitchen looking grumpy and still half asleep. He looked over his shoulder with an annoyed expression as he was followed by three midgets and a dog. Taking a seat at the table, he slammed his head down to rest on it face first. Whether this was an attention seeking thing or just purely fatigue, Sara wasn�t sure, but she guess it was the former, based on his childish tendencies. She decided to ignore it, what ever his reasons and instead inquired on how everyone had slept. "Good," replied Isabelle, taking a seat. "�cept Hamish snored. "I did not," yawned Hamish as he sat on the chair next to his sister. "I slept well thank you Miss Sara." "Did you sleep well Mr Paul?" Isabelle asked the hairy lump sitting opposite her. "Bloody marvellous," came a reply, muffled by the table. "I av eakfa?" asked Angus, who was standing dutifully next to Paul. "Sure," Said Sara, moving around the kitchen, getting things out of cupboards and draws. Paul�s head came up with a pained expression painted on his face. "Can someone please tell me what he just said?" "�Can I have some breakfast?�," the other three replied in unison as if he was stupid for not having understood in the first place. Angus turned to Paul and started jumping excitedly. "ee,ee,ee!" Paul looked to Isabelle for a translation. She rolled her eyes. "He wants to sit on your knee, der." For fuck�s sake," he cried but picked the three year old up anyway and put him on one knee. "Stop your bloody wiggling." Sara put four bowls out on the bench. "Language, Paul," she warned. "Now what�ll it be children? We have �Rice Bubbles�, we have toast and we have fruit." "�Rice Bubbles� please," said Isabelle. "ice ubble ease." "Let me guess," said Paul, trying to get Angus to sit still on his knee. "That was �Rice Bubbles� please.� " He was ignored. "Could I please have Vegemite on toast if it�s not too much trouble?" asked Hamish quietly. Sara smiled at him. "Of course it�s no trouble Hamish, especially since you asked so nicely." The manners on this kid made Paul feel like gagging. "I want �Fruit Loops�," he all but demanded "I know what you want Dear and you�ll get them when I�m good and bloody ready." Paul gasped. "Language, Sara." The phone rang. Sara answered with the cordless that was sitting on the bench as she went about putting toast on and getting milk and cereal out. "Hello?�Oh hi Rich�Yeah sure although His Lordship is barely out of the horizontal and we�ve got the three kids over from next door. I�m just getting everyone breakfast�Of course it�s okay, besides, it�s �business related��okay, I�ll put the kettle on and we�ll see you in about five minutes." She ended the call and got the butter and Vegemite out for Hamish�s toast. "That was Richard. He and Tim are coming over. Apparently, Rich got a fax concerning London about the arrangements for the concert and the accommodation and stuff. They�ll be around in five to go over it with you." "At a quarter to ten in the bloody morning?" he complained. She started buttering the toast that had just popped. "Well, you know how excited Richard gets about these things, plus, it�ll be good to get it out of the way. Here you go Hamish," she said, passing a plate to him. "Thankyou Miss Sara." "Okay, what�s next? Two �Rice Bubbles� and," she looked pointedly at Paul, "a �Fruit Loop�." He scowled at her. Sara quickly served up the cereal and delivered it to the three hungry individuals who started shovelling the contents of the bowls in to their mouths. At one stage, Angus offered a spoonful of soggy �Rice Bubbles� to Paul. "Some?" "What the hell," said Paul and opened his mouth to receive it, pleasantly surprised by the flavour, not having had �Rice Bubbles� for years. In return, he fed all his cherry flavoured �Fruit Loops� to Angus even though Sara had told him many a time that she doubted there was any real cherry in them. He just wasn�t willing to take the risk. There was a knock at the door and after Sara shouted "Come in!", Richard and Tim appeared from the hall way. They couldn�t help but laugh at the sight of Paul in pyjamas, hair pointing every which way, five o�clock shadow, being spoon fed by a three year old and vice versa (although, funnily enough, the three year old did not have a five o�clock shadow). Introductions were made and the two newcomers were told to stop their laughing or kindly leave, but not in as many words. "Aw man! �Rice Bubbles�! I haven�t had them in years," said Richard, spotting the box on the bench. A wistful look came across his face. Sara noticed. "Would you like a bowl of �Rice Bubbles� Rich?" "Yes please! You�re the best Sara," he replied enthusiastically. "What about you Tim? Nothing like a bowl of �Rice Bubbles� to get the whole childhood regression happening." Tim looked a little sheepish. "No thanks Sara. I have �em for breaky every morning anyway. I could go a coffee though." "Coming right up. Coffee Rich?" "No thanks," Richard mumbled, his mouth full of �Rice Bubbles�. A thoughtful look came across his face. "Hey, do you think there�s ever any racial disputes between �Rice Bubbles� and grains of rice?" "Say what?" Paul asked, pushing his empty bowl into the centre of the table. "Possibly," Sara replied then looked at Tim. "Milk and no sugar right? But I do know there�s a lot of unresolved conflicts between the brown rice and the long grain." Paul looked from one of the three to the other. "What are you people on?" "I hear," said Tim, accepting his coffee with thanks and ignoring Paul, "That the Aborio cops a lot of shit because it�s ethnic." "I�m surrounded by freaks! Are you finished mate?" Paul asked Angus who replied with a nod. "Then let�s get out of here and go watch cartoons before they start affecting us." He stood, hoisted Angus onto his hip and left the room. Parts 21-25 A Long Time Dead index Back to DAAS Fiction Index Email Seraphina |
