What's left, by Miss Nostalgia

[domniki]

A short introduction

Miss Nostalgia is a fervent Candy Candy fan, a great friend and a wonderful writer, whose permission we have acquired to post her stories here and share them with the readers of B2R forum. I hope you will all enjoy them as much as I have. Thank you very much Miss Nostalgia.

A Candy-Candy fan,

Domniki.

CHAPTER 1

Hollywood - December 23, 1993

“Mia! Terry! Letʼs go!! The limoʼs here! Can you for once in your life come through for me or am asking for too much and deluding myself you care about my career more than whatever it is you are doing right now, which better not be illegal! Not tonight! I wonʼt put up with any crap from you guys!” came his motherʼs voice from downstairs. He did not need to see her to know she was deeply annoyed, as well as slightly angry, by the fact that they had failed to be ready before the limousine sent by the studio pulled into the driveway. “And please donʼt bother to come down if you did not put on the clothes I picked out for you,” she added, sounding more aggravated by the minute. Tonight was the premiere of her latest movie for which she had a good chance to receive her first Oscar nomination, a goal Eleanor Baker had been pursuing for years, and she had been feeling extremely nervous and restless the whole day. Now that the coveted award was finally within her reach, she wanted everything to be perfect, including her children.

 


Terrence Grandchester smashed his half-smoked cigarette in the overflowing ashtray; looked with profound repulsion at the Gucci loafers his mother had bought for him, and grabbed his beat up black Converse sneakers. They should jazz up his look a bit. He was wearing an Armani smoking, complete with a bow tie, his long chestnut hair was in a neat ponytail, which he had tied using the black leather string he usually wore wrapped around his right wrist. He put his silver skull ring with incrusted sapphire stones on his left middle finger. After a last look into the mirror, he got out of his bedroom and quickly ran down the stairs, smiling at the idea of seeing his sister wearing the electric pink gown their mother thought was most appropriate for the evening.

 


He found his mother alone, pacing back and forth in the hallway, a cigarette in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. He stood in the doorway, amazed at how beautiful she looked. At 36, Eleanor Baker was an incredibly attractive woman, a Hollywood classic beauty in the vein of Grace Kelly, whom she was often compared to. She had an extremely fair skin with dainty features. Her long blonde hair was done in a stylish upswept do and she had some light make up on. She was wearing some huge chandelier earrings with matching necklace, and a simple but elegant long black dress, by Gucci without a doubt. Her deep blue eyes crossed Terryʼs similar colored gaze.

 


“Where is your sister? Can you please go fetch her?” she snapped, leaving Terry disconcerted by the way her voice, raspy and authoritative, was clashing with her looks. “And please change your shoes,” she added, irritated with her childrenʼs unwillingness to oblige her.

 


“If the two of you are not ready to leave in five minutes, Iʼm going without you” she threatened, which would be just fine with Terry since he had no desire whatsoever to go to her premiere. He briefly entertained the thought of telling his mother what he really thought about the prospect of spending his evening schmoozing with her peers and smiling for the photographers, pretending to be one happy family, but she was about to crack and he figured he better not provoke her. He mumbled “OK” and climbed up the stairs.

 


Eleanor shook her head. What was wrong with those kids of hers? It had been her publicistʼs idea to bring them along. Eleanor had argued against it as much as she could. It was a bad idea. They were wild kids and bound to do something that would ultimately embarrass her but Janice had been adamant. It was an excellent PR move. Eleanor needed to remind the public and the Academy that she was not only an accomplished actress but also the mother of two beautiful teenagers. Janice had added sarcastically that the twins would look better by her side than her latest tattoo covered rock star boy toy. Eleanor had been left with no other choice but to admit Janice was right and had given in, not without repeating to whoever wanted to listen that it would most surely be a disaster and reduce her chances of getting a nomination to zero.

 


Eleanor Baker had been a twenty-year-old Broadway actress when she had met Richard Grandchester, a distinguished British aristocrat two years her senior.The two immediately hit it off and a passionate love affair followed. Three months later, Eleanor was pregnant and the young couple quickly sealed their union, much to the displeasure of the Grandchesters. Ever since his birth, it had been agreed that Richard would marry Lady Vivian Bartley, whose rank and upbringing was considered worthy of the Duchy of Grandchester. The very idea of him being wedded to an actress, American to top it all, was purely horrifying to them.

 


On January 31, 1977, Eleanor gave birth to twins, Terrence and Mia. The couple was ecstatic but unfortunately their happiness was short lived. The newly formed family moved to London where Eleanor quickly got tired of the idle life of a high society lady. She resumed acting on the London stage, much to her in-laws dismay. The passion she and Richard had based their relationship on had died off, leaving place to resentment on the part of Eleanor who felt she had to sacrifice her professional life for a love that had faded away as fast as it had blossomed. Richard was often absent, working long hours as the newly appointed chairman of the familyʼs corporation. When the twins were a few weeks shy of their first birthday, Eleanor was offered the lead role in a Hollywood movie. Seeing it as the opportunity she had been waiting for, she promptly accepted and filed for divorce. After countless arguments, it was agreed that Richard would have full custody of Terrence, the legal heir to the Grandchester title. Eleanor and Mia went back to the United States and settled in Los Angeles.

 


Hence started a different life for the twins.

 


Terrence was brought up in a very strict environment, attending prestigious private schools from a young age. When he was 3 years old, his father finally married Vivian Bartley, who instantly disliked the young child, begrudging the fact that no matter how many children she would bear, the son of the American actress would always be the first heir to the Grandchesterʼs title of nobility. Terrence grew up constantly hearing that he was a bastard unworthy of inheriting the Duchy. Vivian insisted on him calling her “Lady Vivian”. When she gave birth to her first son in 1984, the situation grew even tenser and she totally ignored Terry, who ended up feeling ashamed of his biological mother. He couldn't face some of his friends anymore, because he so desperately wanted to fit in and have a classic family. He started to isolate himself from others and was never able to develop a real friendship with any of his schoolmates.

 


At school, Terrence was an excellent student but took little interest in sports. At his father's insistence, he joined his grammar school polo team. While he was good at it, he despised it. He started systematically provoking teachers, fellow students, and most of all his step- mother. When he was 10 years old, he was sent to an austere boarding school, from which he would come out one week-end a month and for the holidays.

 


He would spend two months every summer, as well as the Christmas holidays, in Los Angeles with his mother and sister. He lived for these short periods of time. Despite the fact that they did not see much of each other, the twins were extremely close, spending hours on the phone. Theirs was a relationship based on survival. They needed to be in frequent contact with each other to tolerate their daily life and the pain of being separated, which for twins was excruciating. When they were apart, they always felt like something was missing. When they were together, they retreated into their own world, oblivious to anything and anyone around them. They went as far as getting a tattoo with each other name inside their wrist. When back in London, Terry would feel empty and lonely. The situation at home did not help the matters. He was in fact perfectly happy to be in a boarding school and rarely with his British family. His father was often gone and he was left alone with his step-mother and step-brother, with whom he had no relationship whatsoever. His relationship with his father was not much better. The Duke took little interest in his elder son who kept on defying him.

 


At age 13, Terry discovered the rave culture, which he fully embraced, not so much for the electronic music, but more for the atmosphere and underground aspect of it. Not to mention the easy access it gave him to drugs and alcohol. He was drinking beer on a regular basis and taking ecstasy, craving the lasting euphoria it would provide him with. He was often sneaking out of school to attend illegal parties. He also very much enjoyed the dancing and was quite good at popping. His good looks attracted many girls and he took full advantage of it. Those brief encounters were the closest thing to love he would receive when in England. Mia led an even more disturbed life. She grew up on movie sets, with nannies to watch over her while her mother worked. She was an incredibly bright child, mature beyond her age from the exclusively adult environment she was brought up in. She was 2 years old when her mother married Jeff Baker, a famous film director known for his ultra liberal views, who legally adopted her two years later. Jeff adored the twins and was a huge influence on both of them. He was a talented painter and infused Mia with the love of painting. Terry acquired his taste for literature and philosophy from him. When Mia started school at age 6, she had no idea how to interact with other children, and was badly teased for her lack of knowledge in kidʼs culture. She begged her mother to pull her out of school and at Jeffʼs suggestion, Mia was home-schooled from then on.

 


Growing up on the Hollywood scene, she started partying too much early on: she was smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol by the time she was 9, smoking marijuana she would steal from Jeffʼs private reserve at 10, and snorting cocaine at 13. When she was 14, Jeff and Eleanor divorced. Mia was devastated and became severely depressed. Eleanor did not know what to do and send her to a psychotherapist who started working with her bi-weekly. He came to the conclusion that Mia would benefit from living with her brother, an idea quickly dismissed by Eleanor. She knew Richard would never take Mia in, and Eleanor was not up for another custody battle with her first husband. Despite the perfect image she was so desperately trying to project, her private life was highly questionable and she did not want it all to be brought up in front of a court during a ruthless custody battle.

 


Jeff was granted partial custody of Mia and decided to move back to his native Seattle. Mia became involved with the grunge movement there, connecting to its defiance of the norms. Jeff was good friend with Kurt Cobain, Eddie Vedder, Layne Staley and Chris Cornell and Mia was given plenty of opportunity to talk with the Grunge legends, whom she idolized beyond belief. She attended every shows using a fake ID and was a well-known fixture on the grunge scene. In 1991, aged 14, she was asked by Kurt Cobain - who was dating on and off Eleanor whom he had met at Jeffʼs on a rare occasion she had personally come to pick Mia up- to be one of the cheerleaders in the Smells Like Teen Spirit video. A year later, coming back late from a movie shoot, Eleanor had walked in her Hollywood home on Mia and Kurt going at it in the kitchen. She had been horrified and threatened to call the police and have Kurt jailed on the spot. Mia had begged her not to, and Eleanor had given in, only after Mia pointed out how badly such a scandal would affect her career.

 


Eleanor sighed deeply. She rubbed her forehead, in a futile attempt to ease the headache that was developing. She had given up on Mia a long time ago. She had loved Mia as an infant and toddler but lost all interest later on, raising a child was much more of a thankless job she had thought it would be, and focused all of her energy on her career. She considered Mia a nuisance, especially because of the nighttime terrors that emerged when Mia was 8 and that would invariably bring her in tears to her motherʼs bedroom, complaining that she was too afraid to go back to sleep. Some other times, Mia would simply sneak in the middle of the night and sleep on the carpet, by her motherʼs side, taking great pain in not waking anybody up for fear to be sent back to her room. To stop the nightly disturbances, Eleanor started to give her Valium to help her sleep, not wanting to waste precious sleep time cuddling her, reassuring her that everything was Ok and that she was here to keep her safe. Jeff tried to intervene but Eleanor would invariably remind him that Mia was not his biological daughter and to mind his own business. Only when Terry was around would the night terrors disappear. The twins would more often than not share the same bed and stay up all night, talking, watching movies, listening to music, or simply enjoying each other company. Eleanor felt bad for the two of them being separated and wished she had left both kids to Richard. Terry often begged her to take him in but she always refused, the time was never right to start a custody battle that would be widely publicized given her Hollywood star status.

 

 


**********

 


Terry arrived in front of his sisterʼs bedroom and knocked on the door.

 


“Mia! Get your skinny ass out of here. Mom is going to blow a fuse if you donʼt show up in your pretty princess dress immediately!”

 


No answer.

 


“Mia?” Terry cried, pushing the door open and poking his head through the opening. His sisterʼs bedroom was a mess, with clothes scattered all over the floor and covering most pieces of furniture, along with paintbrushes, tubes of oil paint and rags. Her current project was on an easel: a black and blue mess. The hideous pink gown was still on the bed. The stereo was playing softly and Kurt Cobain was begging to be raped. A half full bottle of Corona was standing on the nightstand, along with a mirror with a line of white powder left on it. The door to the bathroom was ajar and the light was on. Terry walked toward it, tiny drops of sweat forming on his brow.

 


“Mia? Are you decent?” Even though she was his sister and he had seen her naked countless times, he had been getting increasingly uncomfortable lately with the way her body was: tight, lean, long, shapely, she was a fully developed woman, and an incredibly beautiful one. He knew she was sexually active and even though he was too, it kind of bothered him that some guys –usually older guys and more often than not their motherʼs boyfriends, like dear Kurt who was still pleading to be raped on the radio- would do things with her, things that would more often than not leave her hurt. Like Kurt marrying that skunk Courtney. Thinking about Kurt pissed him off. He walked to the radio and turned it off. But he was still there: on what she called her memory wall, on several pictures, including one on the day they filmed the Smells Like Teen Spirit video, Mia in her black cheerleader outfit, smiling broadly, Kurt holding her by the waist, his head resting on her shoulder, a mischievous smile on his lips. Next to it, there was a picture of himself, bare-chested, kneeling in the woods, as Jeremy in the Pearl Jamʼs video, his one and only piece of acting that had triggered his fatherʼs fury. He quickly looked over the others pictures, most of them showing Mia with some famous guys, a musician 99% of the time, leaving him to wonder which one she slept with, which one she only did drugs with, which one she did both. There were also lots of pictures with the two of them as kids, riding a horse, surfing. None was showing their parents.

 


He walked back to the bathroom and pushed the door.

 


“Ready or not, here I come”. Mia was in her underwear, lying on the ground, her head crooked sideways, with dried blood around her nose, her long hair in what Terry assumed to be a puddle of vomit. She was looking at him with eyes that did not seem to register his presence.

 


“Mia!” Terry kneeled next to his sister.

 


Miaʼs eyes slowly lit up with recognition. She said in a small voice:

 


“Canʼt breathe. Need air.”

 


Terry helped her up, wrapped his arms around her waist and supported her toward the bedroom window. They were halfway there when Mia collapsed on the floor and started having seizures, thrashing spasmodically, her head flopping from side to side, arms moving wildly.


“Mom!!!! Call 911!” screamed Terry at the top of his lungs, feeling a knot starting to form in his stomach.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 2

JFK Airport - December 31, 1993




Terrence Grandchester was in the British Airways lounge at New York JFK airport, cursing the strict American non-smoking laws forbidding all smoking in public places. His father had been unable, because of the Holidays crowd, to book him on his flight, or any other nonstop flight from LA to London and he had to switch plane in New York. After what had happened with his daughter, Richard Grandchester did not want his heir to spend more time than was absolutely necessary in Los Angeles, a city he had always despised for its futility, excess and superficiality; the events of the past few days only comforting his opinion.





There was a snow storm and the plane was delayed till the airport personnel was done de-icing the plane and runaway, which Terry had been told should not take more than two hours.





He was staring out the window at the relentless falling snow, his mind a blank slate, disconnected, in full shut down mode. The past week had been like being in a bad movie. Everything that happened seemed so ridiculous and improbable. Even the few words he uttered at the funeral had sounded like badly written pieces of dialogue. The whole ceremony was blurry in his mind, except for the white coffin covered with white roses Mia was resting in. A horrible sense of guilt and anger was still chocking him, guilt at his inability to save her and anger at his mother for failing her motherly duty but also anger at Mia herself for leaving him alone.





The knot in his stomach had not eased. He constantly felt nauseous and could barely eat anything. The TV was on but he was not paying any attention to the background noise it provided, until he discerned his Motherʼs voice. He slowly turned around and there she was, on the giant screen. He guessed it had been shot the day before, after the funeral. He had left with his father immediately after the ceremony but his mother had agreed to do a press conference in exchange for some privacy during and after the service. Terry did not want to hear what she was saying, he was afraid if he had to hear her once again serve the lies cooked by her PR agent, he would scream. Mercifully, she disappeared and was replaced by a still picture of Mia, in an evening gown, smiling at some Hollywood affair. The commentator was explaining how Mia had tragically died a month prior her 17th birthday of a heart attack, caused by a birth defect. Various other pictures followed, including some with himself, taken over the years. She was smiling broadly on every single shot, the perfect image of a happy teenager who had everything going for her. Seeing her happy and knowing she was now under a pile of dirt, in the dark she was so frightened by, triggered the release of the tears he had been holding back for a week. He had been looking forward their life as adults. They had made plans. What was his life suppose to amount to now? What would he have to be looking forward to? How could he ever come back to the U.S, knowing she would not be there? But the question that haunted him the most was how was he ever going to forgive his mother.

 


He quickly turned away from the TV where his mother had reappeared, before the urge to smash it became uncontrollable. He went back to the contemplation of the snowy skies, hot tears still running heavily down his cheeks.





He did not know how long he had been standing there crying when he sensed someone observing him.

 


He wiped his tears and slowly turned around. He came face to face with a tiny girl about his age, plain looking and tomboyish, except for a mane of long curly blond hair cascading around her face. She was standing in front of him in a somewhat awkward manner, looking at him with eyes as big as saucers, with the puzzled expression of someone who has just seen a ghost. She was wearing a very unflattering outfit composed of shapeless gray sweat pants, a baggy pink hoody sweater with GAP emblazoned on it and some Adidas sneakers. She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something but instead turned around and proceeded to leave when Terry, who would have been unable to say why, called out to her.





“Wait. Donʼt go!”





She stopped in her tracks and turned around, a dumbfound look on her face.





“Iʼm sorry…” She finally said. Her voice was small and high-pitched. “When I saw you all alone I felt I had to talk to you but I did not want to bother you... You seemed so sad. Are you OK?” She was looking at him square in the eyes. She was the first person to actually inquire about his feelings since the ordeal with Mia. He could tell her concern was genuine and would have kissed her for that. But he thought she might find him creepy, and rightly so, if he were to act in such an impulsive manner so he reverted to his usual sarcastic self.





“ Me? Sad?” How he managed to break out laughing he would never know but he somehow did. “Little freckled lady, you are being quite presumptuous! You donʼt know me so how could you tell if Iʼm sad? Know that Iʼm one of the happiest person youʼll ever meet!”





The girl seemed embarrassed for a few seconds but her discomfort quickly turned to anger and she replied, outraged, her voice a higher-pitch than before:





“What did you call me? Freckled Lady?”





“Well, truth be told, your face is full of freckles, or haven't you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? I'm deeply sorry because they donʼt help your looks… Have you ever thought about concealing them? Or dying your hair red? Come to think of it, those freckles of yours would not look half bad if you were a red head.” He hated himself for embarrassing her when all she was trying to do was being friendly and thoughtful but he just could not help it. He was so used to people not caring about his feelings that he did not know how to answer in a normal way. The girlʼs face was now red with anger, and her freckles more noticeable than ever.





“But… How… How dare you!? For your information, I love having freckles!” The girl was flaming.





“I can tell, and I can see that you have built up quite a collection. Good for you.”





“Indeed! See, I like them so much that I am thinking about how to get some more!”





Terry was getting very amused by her reaction. That girl had some punch.





“Well, maybe you could start by moving to an exotic island and exposing yourself to the sun all year around, freckles are known to love the sun and poke their ugly heads then!”





“I'd say you are jealous because you don't have any, isn't that so? “





“Ah!Ah!Ah! What a proud freckled lady you are! Let me ask you something else: do you also fancy that flat nose of yours? I bet you do.”





“Most definitely!” She looked positively indignant but for some strange reason, the angrier she was getting, the more Terry felt attracted to her. In just a few minutes, she had managed to take his mind off the dark thoughts he had been harboring. He figured she deserved a hug just for that, and he reckoned he could use the comforting feeling of holding a warm body against his. For some reason, he felt like he could bury his head into her hair and forget his misery. He was about to grab her arm and pull her toward him when a man wearing a business suit called out to her.





“Miss Candy, they are going to start boarding soon.”





“See you later, freckled face!” he said, somehow grateful the manʼs arrival had prevented him from making a fool of himself. He grabbed his carry-on and walked toward his departure gate where some people had started to line up, grinning as he passed her by, slightly brushing her elbow with his waist.





Ten minutes later, he was sipping champagne in his first class seat. He had to cajole the stewardess into giving him a coupe since he was underage but that had been fairly easy. Women whatever their age always had trouble to say NO to him. Except for his stepmother and the nuns who ran his school of course.





Much to his surprise and utter delight, the girl boarded the plane and sat two rows behind him. He was very much intrigued: what was such a girl doing in first class? And who was the guy with her? He seemed too young to be her father. He did not know why any of that seemed of interest to him, all he knew was that he somehow could not take his mind off that girl. He had met lots of girls, much more attractive than this one who really had nothing going for her physically, but for some reason, in just a few minutes, she had touched a part of him, a part that he kept buried deep inside, a part that Mia had been the only one to be able to touch. Thinking about Mia brought tears to his eyes again. He reached for his carry-on and took out a valium and a sleeping pill for good measure, which he washed down with the rest of his champagne. He slept soundly the whole flight and the stewardess had to shake him awake when they were about to land in London Heathrow.





After landing, he got up, grabbed his coat and carry-on and turned around to look at the girl one last time. Candy- Candy had been her name if he had correctly heard the man calling her- looked sleepy, her hair was a mess and could use a good comb but she did not seem to mind. She was looking through the window and talking in a sleepy drawl to her travel companion about being anxious to see someone he did not quite catch the name of. She looked up and their eyes briefly met. He promptly turned around and processed to walk down the aisle toward the exit, afraid she might notice the effect she had on him.





He was waiting for his luggage and she was a few feet away from him, impatiently looking at her watch, fully awake now and talking animatedly to her companion. That girl seemed like she could not shut up. She had put her tangled curls in a messy ponytail, was not wearing the slightest touch of make-up but he still found her adorable and had trouble taking his eyes off her. Again, the longing feeling of finding refuge into her arms surfaced. He desperately needed a safe harbor to grieve, and he felt she was it. He knew none of this was making any sense and that it was all the pain he had been trying to quell slowly driving him insane but he could not help what he was feeling. It was like his body was trying to tell him what was good for him. Maybe he should go and talk to her, apologize for his behavior and introduce himself properly…





The arrival of his suitcase on the carousel put a stop to his musings before he was able to act on them, which he thought was for the best. He grabbed it and slowly walked toward the terminalʼs exit. Of course, the chauffeur his Dad said he was going to send for him was not there yet. He put his suitcase down and sat on it. There were two young men about his age standing next to him, scanning through the people arriving, visibly waiting for someone. Terry thought they looked familiar. One was nerdy looking, tall and skinny with short black hair, glasses, brown corduroy pants with matching jacket while the other had long blond locks impeccably brushed, and was dressed in the latest fashion.





The nerd looked down to him and asked:





“Excuse me. Terrence?” Terry must have looked like he had no idea who he was for the bespectacled guy added, with an uneasy smile, “ Stear Cornwell. Iʼm in your chemistry class. Thatʼs how I know you. I donʼt mean to disturb you but Iʼm wondering if you were in the flight from New York?”





“Yes. I was the first to get my luggage. The others should follow soon.”





“Thank you.” Stear smiled broadly. ʽIʼll see you Monday in class I guess.”





Terry did not bother to answer. He almost always ditched the chemistry class, it was at 8am on Mondays and he was more often than not too hang over from the week-end partying to get up. But considering that it was already Saturday evening and that he had no inclination whatsoever to party, he would most likely stay put. So why not go to class on Monday morning and maybe even attend the morning mass, to start the New Year well.





A few minutes went by and he was starting to wonder if he should grab a cab when he heard a high-pitched scream. He looked up and saw the Candy girl running toward Stear and his Dandy companion with whom Terry remembered having an argument with but could absolutely not recall neither why nor his name. She jumped in their opened arms and the trio shared a fierce hug. They were a bit too far for Terry to discern what they were saying, much to his regret. Was one of them her boyfriend? The nerd maybe? He could not picture a guy like the Dandy being with a girl like her, she clearly had no taste for fashion and obliviously did not care about what she looked like. He was wondering if she was in the same school, liking the idea very much, when he heard his name being called.





“Master Terrence! I apologize for the delay. Traffic was just horrible. Let me say Iʼm terribly sorry for your loss. May I help you with your bags?”





“Thank you Trevor,” Terry said, walking briskly toward the exit, not knowing that a pair of intrigued green eyes was watching him walk away.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 3

 


January 1, 1994 - Grandchesterʼs Residence – London




 

 


Terry was looking through the window of the fast moving car at the familiar West End neighborhood with its tree lined streets and picturesque canals, with a sense of uneasiness that was becoming more cumbersome the closer they were getting to the Grandchestersʼ mansion. He had asked Trevor to take him straight to school but Trevor had received instructions from his father to bring him home first.

 


The Mercedes came to a stop in front the red brick Maida Vale mansion. Terry was about to get out of the car when the front door opened and he saw his father standing on the porch, a solemn look on his face.

 


Terry took a deep breath and got out of the car. He was going toward the trunk to get his suitcase when his father cried out to him:

 


“Trevor will get that for you. Come on in.” As always, his voice was devoid of any emotion. Richard Grandchester was an absolute master at concealing his feelings. For as long as he could remember, Terry had always seen him wearing the same stern expression, no matter what the circumstances were. He could not recall a single instance in which his father had actually smiled a real smile, only the pretense of a smile that reminded Terry of a vampire about to suck you dry.

 


Terry met his father on the porch and they both walked into the house without uttering a word.

 


“Follow me.” Ordered the older Grandchester, walking up the marble staircase.

 


Terry was taken aback. In the past, every lecture he had received –and there had been many- had been given in his fatherʼs office or in the living room, in front of the rest of the family. He silently followed, wondering where his scolding –for he did not doubt for a second this was all about scolding- would take place.

 


Richard Grandchester stopped in front of his sonʼs bedroom and gestured for Terry to get in first. He complied. His bedroom was just like he had left it, neatly ordered. He took his jacket off and threw it on the couch. His father shut the door and stood in front of him, piercing him with his hard gaze for what felt to Terry like an eternity.

 


“Take a seat.” He finally said.

 


“Iʼd rather stand up.” Terry felt like they were two dogs assessing each other before a fight.

 


“Suit yourself,” said his father who proceeded to sit on Terryʼs bed. Terry did not know what to do and just stood there, hoping that whatever his father had to say, he would say it quick and leave him alone. Richardʼs gaze lingered around the room and stopped on the nightstand where a picture of Terry and Mia taken the previous summer stood. He took it with a trembling hand and looked at it. To Terryʼs surprise, tears fell on the frame and he realized his father was crying. Feeling extremely uneasy to witness his father in such a vulnerable state, Terry slowly walked to the bed and sat next to him, not knowing what to do. Richard Grandchester put one hand around Terryʼs shoulder and looked at his eldest son square in the eyes. For the first time, Terry was able to feel warmth and a sense of humanity coming from his father. Maybe he was not this man of stone after all.

 


“Terry…. Iʼm so sorry…. I…. I know I was not a good father for Mia…. But I certainly did not want for her to end that way... I should have….” His voice trembled as he spoke.

 


“Too little too late for regrets, Father, donʼt you think? Iʼm sure she would have loved to know you actually gave a shit about her while it matters, ” said Terry curtly. So that was what it was all about, the older Grandchester felt guilty and was hoping Terry would assure him he had done everything he could. Well, though luck. Terry felt both his parents were responsible for what had happened and he had no inclination whatsoever to cut them any slack.

 


Upon hearing his sonʼs angry tone, Richard regretted his moment of weakness and instantly regained his usual cold composure.

 


“You are right. It is too late for Mia. But it is not too late for you. Things are going to change starting today. “

 


Terry looked at his father, a challenging look on his face. So that was it, his sister had to pass away so tragically for his father to take a sudden interest in him.

 


Richard Grandchester resumed talking.

 


“I know exactly what is going on with you, what you are up to. I know you smoke, and not only cigarettes. I know you ditch classes more often than not. I know about the alcohol. The parties. The girls. Should I go on?”

 


“No.” Terry said dryly, not liking a bit where this was going.

 


“I know you cannot be trusted to act reasonably. Youʼre a spoiled degenerate brat. But Iʼm not going to watch idly while you throw your life down the toilet. Iʼve sent someone to search your room at school. All your cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, have been found and removed. You should have been more imaginative. Under the mattress, I was expecting something more challenging from you.”





Terry was smiling interiorly; his fatherʼs watchdogs had obviously failed to find his real hiding place.

 


“Father, I donʼt want to discuss this now.” He said, only wanting to take a shower. He felt dirty from the long plane journey, and was hot and getting dizzy.

 


“Iʼm not here to discuss anything with you or ask for your opinion. I want you to listen, and listen well for I wonʼt repeat it. From now on, youʼll do as I say. I thought this outrageous behavior of yours was just a phase but after what happened to your sister, I wonʼt take a chance. I spoke with Mother Grey. Your room will be thoroughly searched on a daily basis. You are to resume your practice with the Polo team. If you miss a day, Iʼll be immediately notified. Your authorization to go out is revoked. You are to remain on the school grounds at all time, except to attend substance abuse counseling sessions twice a week. Trevor will come and pick you up and will drop you off immediately afterwards. If I hear about anything funny going on, Iʼll have you tested every morning for drugs. Are we clear young man?”

 


“ Crystal clear, Father. Can you leave me alone now. Please.”

 


“Terry, I want you to understand Iʼm not doing this to punish you. Iʼm doing it because I care deeply about you and your well-being.”

 


“It shows…. Sending me to this God-forsaken jail that poses as a school is the perfect example of how much you care about me, “ said Terry sarcastically.

 


“Listen. You may not like it but it is for your own good. Youʼll thank me later.”

 


“Whatever you say.”

 


“ I donʼt know where I went wrong with you, I really tried my best but let me assure you that I wonʼt let you go down this path of self-destruction you seem to have taken. I wonʼt let you dishonor the Grandchester name.”

 


“Ah, I knew that was about to come up. The almighty Grandchesterʼs name! It is all you really care about, isnʼt it? Well, I think it is a bit late for that, donʼt you? You tarnished it pretty well yourself the day you married Mom!”

 


Richard Grandchester looked at Terry with murder in his eyes and for a second Terry thought he was going to punch him.

 


“I wonʼt tolerate that kind of talk from you anymore! You are my son and own me respect.”

 


“I owe you squad! If you want respect, you need to earn it first!” Screamed Terry, anger boiling inside of him.

 


“ Shut your mouth! I donʼt want to hear one more word from you. Pack up your things. Trevor will take you to Saint-Paul in an hour.”

 


“Thatʼs how you bastard show you care about me? By sending me away as soon as you can.” Terry was fuming.

 


Richard slapped Terry hard on the face, sending him falling on the carpet.

 


“Never, ever, use that kind of language with me. Who do you think you are? Now gather your things and be ready in an hour.”

 


He left the room, slamming the door shut, leaving Terry rubbing his cheekbone where his fatherʼs Oxford graduation ring had left a mark. Hot tears were flooding his eyes, rending his vision blurry. He furiously wiped them away and went into his bathroom to splash water on his face. His head was throbbing, his whole body was aching. He reached in his pants pocket for the Valium pills and quickly swallowed one. He took off his clothes and took a cold shower. Then, he hurriedly packed and went downstairs. Mercifully, Trevor was in the hallway, waiting for him while reading a newspaper.

 


“Iʼm ready Trevor, letʼs go.” Without bothering to say good-bye to anyone, he went inside the car, slouched on the back seat and closed his eyes, the purring of the motor quickly rocking him to sleep.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 4

St-Paul Academy - January 3, 1994

​

Terrence Grandchester woke up with a start at 4am, sweaty and out of breath. It took him a few minutes to realize he was in the twin size bed in his bedroom at Saint-PaulAcademy. He had a nightmare but could not remember the specifics, not that he really wanted to.





He sat up, reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on. He took in his surroundings, the remains of his nightmare slowly fading away. The room was of good size, and nicely furnished, with a black leather couch, a coffee table covered with books and magazines, a piano he had not played in ages, a stereo and a big pile of CD towering precariously next to it, a huge desk with a fax machine and telephone, a bookcase overflowing with books and notebooks, and a closet with a concealed compartment that contained various items not allowed in school: 5 cartons of cigarettes, a bottle of vodka, one of tequila and two of whiskey, 3 marijuana buds, a few ecstasy pills, a dozen CDs and video tapes dubbed unsuitable by the nuns, and a wad of cash. The walls were covered with movie posters and various paintings and sketches done by Mia.

He did not bother trying to go back to sleep, how could he when his mind was racing, trying to take him to places he did not want to go. He got up, swallowed the last of the Valium pills with a gulp of vodka, making a mental note to try to get more from the shrink or whatever he was his father wanted him to see. He took a quick shower, put his school uniform on without bothering to tie the black tie. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes, opened the glass door leading to his private balcony and sat on the edge of the stone railing, his Converse-clad feet dangling in the open. Oblivious to the bitter cold, he lit up his first cigarette of the day. He stood there perfectly still, lost in his thoughts.

​

Upon returning to his room on Saturday evening, he had been terribly upset and angry with the way his father had treated him. The words “spoiled degenerate brat” were resounding in his head. He would never admit it but hearing the words from his father’s mouth had hurt him deeply. Not knowing what else to do short of breaking everything in sight to quell his anger, he had smoked some weed and taken another Valium for good measure. Once he felt sufficiently calm, he had read the few condolences messages, faxes and cards that had been waiting for him. Seeing how fondly people remembered Mia had been somewhat heartwarming and he had found solace in reading their anecdotes and reminiscences of his sister.

 


Being back in London had made it surprisingly easy to pretend nothing had happened. He had pushed everything back to a part of his brain he had resolved not to access. He had been so successful at repressing the painful memories that he had actually caught himself several times grabbing the phone and dialing Mia’s number, before realizing that she would not answer but still letting the call go through simply to hear her voice on the answering machine.

 


“Hey, this is Mia. Sorry I missed your call. You know what to do.”

 


Terry was hoping his mother would not cancel the line or remove the answering machine. Hearing Mia’s voice was comforting in ways he could not described or even fully comprehend. All he knew was that after hearing the short greeting, he was always calmer and happier. And given his current emotional state, that was a wonderful gift.

 


There had been several messages from his mother on his own answering machine but he did not feel like returning any of them. Let her suffer…

 


He was starting to get numb from the cold and was out of cigarettes so he went back into his room, intending to make himself some tea when he heard the beeping of the fax machine announcing an incoming fax.

 


He walked to the fax machine and most to his surprise recognized Kurt’s shaky scribbling. After a few seconds of hesitation, he took the single sheet and started reading:

 


Terry,

 


I’m probably the last person you want to hear from but I really need to do this.

 


“You got that bloody right,” thought Terry. He did not feel up to decipher the poorly formed words and did not really care for what Kurt had to say. He scanned the whole page, reading bit and pieces when a specific word would catch his eye.

 


Leni has been calling me every day. She is a mess Terry. She needs you. She blames herself for what happened.

 

 

Upon seeing the pet’s name Kurt had given his mother’s, Terry tensed up.

 




​

He had no idea they were still in touch. Eleanor Baker had not been able to fully digest the fact that Kurt had chosen her daughter over her and had secretly been delighted when he had dumped Mia, breaking the teenage girl’s heart in the process. Kurt had become taboo in his mother’s house, which at times had made for some uneasy situations given his band’s popularity.

 


You probably don’t know this but she told me the heroin Mia snorted (yes, she told me the real story, I knew Mia too well to buy the crap she fed to the press) came from her room, it was Shannon ’s, he had left it with some of his stuff.

 


Just what Terry needed to know. Shannon had been her latest musician boyfriend, who happened to have a pretty serious drug habit. Terry could never understand what his mother, elegant and sophisticated, was doing with those guys. Ever since her divorce from Jeff, she had only dated musicians, always at least 10 years younger than she was, and with a drug problem 99% of the time. She had nothing in common with them and it was no wonder Kurt had fallen for Mia who had been much more of a kindred spirit. His hatred toward his mother rose to an unprecedented height and had she been around, he did not know what he would have done. He skipped to the last paragraph, not wanting to know what else Kurt had to say.

 


I’m so sorry buddy, you have no fucking idea how I felt when Leni phoned me the news. I was in shock. Still am.

 


“How do you think I felt while Mia lay dying in my arms you bloody idiot,” Terry thought resentfully.

 


I just want you to know that I loved her very much and I still do in so many ways. I’ll miss her.

 


“Of course you did love her. That’s why you treated her the way you did. Bastard.” Terry could not stand to be reminded of what had happened between them.

 


I’ll be in Europe by the end of the month and will give you a call, maybe we could meet for a beer or something. I need to see you.

 


“Sure, why not? I’m not going to pass on a free drink, even if it is with someone as insufferable and boring as you jerk.” He used to like Kurt and enjoy his company but his treatment of Mia had changed all that. Nevertheless, the prospect of giving him a piece of his mind was very appealing and Terry could hardly wait to be face to face with the first and only man his sister had really loved.

 


He tore the fax into pieces he threw in the trashcan by the mahogany desk. He had no desire whatsoever to read the whole thing. Anger was building-up, suffocating him. Everything was his mother’s bloody fault. Always had been. No matter what Kurt said. What did he know anyway, he had been out of Mia’s life for over a year…Terry could not believe what his mother was reduced to: call her ex-lover -who happened to be her deceased daughter ex as well- to pour her heart out, most likely begging him to contact her son, without knowing or caring that Kurt himself was extremely distressed by Mia’s passing. Why should Terry be the one to deal with his self-centered Mom? If he cared so much about Leni, why Kurt did not comfort her himself. Terry wondered if he was banging her again and he decided it was most likely. Otherwise, why would Eleanor be calling him of all people. A vision of them having sex in Mia’s room came to his mind and he quickly brushed it away. This was most definitively not the kind of images he needed in his head to start the day.

 


He went into his kitchenette and made himself some tea, grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes from his cache, and went back on the balcony, hoping the fresh morning air would help clear up his troubled mind.

 

 


7am and the bell announcing breakfast came and went without him bothering to move. The 8am mass call took him out of his torpor. He was about to get off his perching spot to slowly make his way to church when he saw a small figure in a white dress bursting out from the girls’ dormitory and running madly through the park toward the church, her long blond curls flying wildly behind her. From where he stood, Terry could not see the freckles but he did not doubt they were there. He quickly got off the window, grabbed his jacket and walked out of his room. He had no idea how or why it happened but he felt his lips pursed in a pleased smile.

 


*********

 


He arrived in front the church’s closed door, late as was his custom. The door let out a loud creak as he opened it. The priest was talking some nonsense about some stones turning into bread and abruptly stopped. The door shut as loudly as it had opened. All the nuns gasped and most students turned around too see who was behind the commotion.

 


Terry nonchalantly walked further into the old decrepit building, looking around for the only girl who would be wearing white. He was deeply bemused by the students looking at him in disbelief and the nuns’ horrified facial expressions.

 


“You are late, as usual! Take a seat immediately and get on with the morning prayer!” Cried Mother Grey who was clearly boiling with anger.

 


Terry could not resist the urge to mess with her and started laughing.

 


“What are you laughing about, Terrence Grandchester?”

 


“Mother Grey, I see these kids pretending seriousness and modesty and I wonder what is really going through their minds… I doubt theirs are very Christian thoughts… I’m sure you would turn red as a beet if you could read their minds!”

 


“Terrence! Leave at once!!

 


“You want me to go away? Don’t worry, I’ll leave, right away… I did not come here to pray anyhow, Mother…”

 


“So may I ask why are you here?”

 


“To take a nap!”

 


“Terrence! You… no …” Mother Grey was speechless.

 


“Good God!!” exclaimed Sister Margaret, the num in charge of the girls’ dorm.

 


“Forgive him, Lord. He lost his mind to grief.” Murmured the priest, signing himself.

 


“It’s a quiet place and I thought no one was around,” Terry went on, the same amused smile on his lips. He grabbed the closest boy by the collar and asked him:

 


“You… Tell me when everyone leaves!!”

 


He took a few steps, stopped, turned around and made the peace sign.

 


“Happy prayers to all the innocent!!”

 


“ONE MOMENT!!!” screamed Sister Grey who was not making any effort to hide her anger anymore. A vein on her brow was pulsing madly. She did not intimidate Terry who was having a ball and kept going in the same mocking tone:

 


“No need to tell me, Mother… You want me to go to your office? But it won’t be for a cup of tea! So I guess the day is saved, after all... Goodbye!!”

 


“What an unfortunate boy, may God have mercy on him!” Murmured an appalled Mother Grey, shaking her head.

 


Terry was walking up the aisle, still laughing, when he noticed the Candy girl looking at him with her green eyes wide open, clearly astounded by his antics. He stopped at her level and cast an impish gleam to her, causing her to lower her gaze, embarrassed. After one final wave, he exited the building, followed by the murmurs of his classmates.

 


Once outside, Terry looked at his watch. It was 8:30am, mass would go on for another half hour and class would not start till 9:15am. He decided to take a stroll through the park, hoping the fresh morning air would ease the dizziness he was starting to feel. He walked briskly until he was deep enough into the woods where he would not to be disturbed and sat down, leaning against a tree. He searched his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter and sat there smoking, his mind drifting toward Candy. His heart had beaten faster when he finally saw her in the church, a white dove among a flock of black crows. She looked lost and out of place. The feelings she was stirring in him left him confused. He could not wait to tell Mia about her. There he was again, forgetting Mia would never know about Candy…. That very thought saddened him more than he would have suspected and he was about to get up just to avoid sitting there crying like an idiot when he heard footsteps and pushed himself tighter against the tree so not to be seen. Much to his surprise, the individual decided to settle against the very tree he was hiding behind.

 


“Bloody hell. Of all the trees, he had to pick that one.” He was in no mood to talk and did not want to come face to face with a classmate. He was about to slowly and carefully make his exit sideways when a male voice was heard, crying out his name.

 


“What now?” Thought Terry, stepping out from behind the tree, no caring anymore about coming face to face with the stranger leaning against it.

 


“OH!” Screamed a startled Candy.

 


They shared a surprised glance.

 


Candy let escaped a muffled “Terry” and remained quiet, not knowing what else to say. They both stood there, looking at each other, not saying a word. Candy was wearing the white dress school uniform with a brown winter coat and white boots. Her hair was down, falling into her eyes and Terry impulsively removed a tendril that was tickling her nose. His fingers briefly brushed her cheek and he saw her shivered. He felt something like electricity running through his own body. He thought about asking her if she felt it too but she would most likely assume he was some kind of weirdo –and maybe she would be right, given the strange thoughts he had been having lately, especially when she was around. Instead, he was about to ask her what was up with the white dress for church when the other boy called out again:

 


“Terry! Mother Grey is furious!”

 


Terry moved on past Candy, without looking at her.

 


“She’s an old bat!”

 


And without any other word, he proceeded to run toward the main building.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 5

Saint-PaulAcademy – January 19th, 1994

Days were going by ever so slowly and Terry felt very lonely. He had not seen Candy since their brief encounter in the park. He was very intent on meeting her and looked through the student directory to find her room phone number. There were two Candy, one Candice and one Candace. Terry did not want to call them all and had given up that idea, hoping instead for a chance meeting in the schoolʼs corridors.

His mother had left several other messages, sounding more distraught as the days went by without him calling her back. He was still angry with her and could not phantom listening to whatever she had to say without losing his temper. She had called once more the previous weekend, to inform him that she had cancelled her long-planned trip to Europe to promote her movie whose London premiere was in a week and was instead spending some time in Seattle, and to please call her at Jeffʼs. Some pictures of her strolling the streets one early morning with Kurt had surfaced in the tabloids, as well as rumors she had put her Beverly Hills mansion up for sale. Terry could not believe the disheveled woman wearing an oversized flannel shirt, ripped up jeans, and a black beanie over stringy blond hair was his mother. She had no trace of make up on, a haggard look on her face and seemed to be staggering rather than walking, holding on to Kurt for support. But some other close up shots of her sitting at a coffee table, a coffee cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other left no doubt that this grungy looking woman was indeed his mother. The sight of the wreck she seemed to be had pleased him immensely. Not that he was not a train wreck waiting to happen himself but he strongly felt she deserved to suffer for what she had done.

He had trouble sleeping and would stay up half of the night, smoking, and be half asleep during his classes. He had resumed the Polo practice but was not putting any effort into it. He just wanted to keep his father at bay and had been abiding by his rules simply to avoid a new confrontation he did not think he could endure without lashing out at him like a mad man.

He did not feel like seeing anyone, doing anything or going anywhere and did not even try to sneak out of the school grounds. His only outings were to attend the substance abuse sessions. He had gotten high just prior his first session, hoping the shrink would refuse to take him on as a patient. Instead, Kyle McAdams had been surprisingly understanding and even sympathetic. Terry had been pleasantly surprised to see his father had for once in his life done something right as far as he was concerned: the counselor he had chosen was nothing like the middle-aged stuck-up bore or new-age guru type Terry had pictured. Kyle McAdams was a 35-years old former junkie. He was warm, direct and open-minded. He put Terry at ease by allowing him to smoke a cigarette and offered him some tea and cookies. The whole atmosphere was closer to a friendly chat than a counseling session, or at least the idea Terry had of them. And better than anything, he had offered Terry the unexpected: to help him not only with his so-called addiction but also to process the grief he felt. McAdams had quickly understood that Terry was very much on his own, with no emotional support system whatsoever and felt this bright kid would not stand a chance without any help from a supportive grown-up. Terry exhibited all the signs of not being able to process his grief, internalizing everything and becoming self-destructive. He offered Terry a safe haven to express his sadness, anger, and frustration following Miaʼs passing, and would guide him through the seemingly endless contradictory feelings he was harboring. He stressed out that the whole situation made drugs and alcohol more attractive than ever but it would be a very bad idea to turn to them as they would only make the grieving process longer and more difficult to process. Instead, he had prescribed him some non-habit forming sleeping pills, which did not seem to be much help so far. He believed in a “harm reduction” approach that did not require a complete abstinence from every single substance. His main goal was to establish and maintain a motivation to change; cope with cravings; develop basic problem-solving skills; achieve a balanced lifestyle; and improve relationships. They had agreed to meet three times a week, and Kyle had given Terry a number he could call 24 hour a day should he feel the need to talk. As much as he hated to admit it, Terry was painfully aware he had no one to turn to, and knew fully well things would escalade out of his control if he kept going the way he was. Now fully aware that, contrary to what he so stupidly believed before, his age did not make him invincible and immune to death, he was terrified he would share his sisterʼs fate. He certainly did not want to die. There were too many things he had yet to experience and he did not want his life cut short. He felt comfortable with Kyle so he decided to give it a try, not to please his father but because he had nothing left to lose, unless maybe his own sanity. He had been to five sessions so far. To show his good will, upon his return from his third session, he had flushed his ecstasy pills down the toilet, and emptied his bottles of alcohol in the sink. He had kept the pot –and had acquired some more- but was only smoking when he felt especially tensed and down.

It was an unusually sunny afternoon and he had just finished polo practice, where he had done little more than ride his horse around the field without paying much attention to the game. Some of the players had made rude comments in regards to his mother, asking him whether he was calling Kurt “Dad” and if she smelled as bad as she looked. Terry had desperately wanted to smash his mallet in their mocking faces and could not wait for the stupid practice to be over. The coach had made some feeble attempts to shut them up but they had kept on going whenever his back was turned, so much that Terry ended up jumping off his horse on to another boy and proceeding to beat him up. He felt he would have badly hurt him had the coach not intervene, chastising the boy for his harassment of a teammate and asking Terry to keep his temper in check. The boy was sent to detention and Terry got a warning. The coach took him aside and mentioned he was willing to be lenient given Terryʼs recent loss but not to push it. Terry looked at him defiantly before walking away. He hated the pity some people were feeling for him and the special treatment he had been receiving because of it.

Terry was now sitting on an oak tree branch in the park, absent-mindedly playing with his mallet, when he heard an angry feminine voice.

“Neil! Are you crazy? I could have hurt myself!” He looked down and saw Candy, slowly getting up, rubbing her left knee, a painful expression on her face. She was wearing some pink sweat pants, oversized as seemed to be her custom, the school sweater and the same brown winter coat she was wearing during their last encounter. Her curly hair was parted in two fluffy pigtails.

Three male students stood in front of her: Neil Reagan whom he knew as the guy you could always turn to –provided you had the cash for it- if you needed something smuggled into the school, and his two cohorts, a portly looking red hair and a pimply skinny boy, both extremely stupid looking.

“Oops, my bad! I did not dream of meeting you here.” Neil was smirking.

“Me neither! Iʼm terribly sorry to see you!” Candy promptly retorted.

“How dare you!” Neilʼs satisfied smirk slowly gave way to a heinous grin.

“Neil, you did not change a bit,” continued Candy, who did not seem a bit impressed by the boy threatening expression. “Did you finally grow some muscles? Or should I rather say some guts? I guess not, or why would you need your two friends to harass me. Youʼre too much of a coward to do it on your own!”

“You stupid orphan!”

“I may be an orphan but I kicked your ass. And I can do it again!”

Terry was smiling, that girl did not lack any aplomb.

“You filthy liar! Guys, she is an orphan, she tended to the stables while working for my family.”

“Really? The stables… Interesting… There is hey in stables….” Said one of the boy, a knowing smirk on his porcine face.

“ And some horses like to be ridden hard …. Even if they donʼt know it…” Said the other one, smiling salaciously.

Terry did not like where this was going and clutched his mallet tighter into his hand, getting ready to intervene should any of those filthy pigs get any closer to Candy.

“Yeah, come on cow girl, we are going to show you what it is like to be ridden by guys who know what they are doing…” continued Neil, an obscene smile on his face.

“Come on, on all fours,” said the porky one, licking his lips.

Candy had sweat pouring down her brow and looked like she was about to panic.

“Hold her down guys, Iʼm going to mount her,” said Neil.

The two guys grabbed a hold of her as she was trying to run away, screaming and kicking:

“Let go of me you cowards!”

“Come on now my little orphan, you know you want it as much as I do,” said Neil.

The two others had her pinned down, looking absolutely terrified, when Terry jumped off the tree and landed behind the teenage boys, brandishing his mallet like a sword and swinging it at their backs. They let go of Candy, screaming and turned over to look at their assailant. Candy looked up as well.

“Terry!” She gasped, relief invading her freckly face.

Terry was facing the three boys, in his polo outfit, holding his mallet firmly in his right hand.

“I hope Iʼm not intruding,” he said in a mocking tone.

Neil and his friends looked at him, dumbfounded.

Terry repeated his question, slowly, detaching every syllable, as if talking to the mentally impaired.

“I said, AM. I. IN.TRU.DI.NG?”

He came closer to Neil and looked at him with profound hatred. He had used Neil in the past to get some illegal items through the schoolʼs gates. He was a real scumbag. Mean and stupid, which made him dangerous.

“How do you feel? Powerful and almighty. Quite easy when you are facing a defenseless little girl, huh? How do you feel when faced with a more worthy adversary. Take that jerk!” Terry snarled, throwing his mallet on the ground and punching Neil square in the jaw.

“Three rich American kids who came here to achieve a better education, isnʼt that right? Well, let me teach you your first lesson on how to behave like a real English gentleman.” He continued, throwing more punches at the three others who made only feeble attempts to fight back. Terry grew infuriated as it became obvious they had no desire to fight back and screamed:

“NOW BEAT IT!”

The three cowards ran as if the devil was after them.

Candy was stunned. Terry picked up his mallet and started to leave, without saying a word to her. He did not think he could have a normal conversation, those idiots had made him so angry that he needed to calm down.

She called out to him.

“Oh...Wait!! Wait, Terry!!”

Terry stopped and she caught up to him.

“What do you want?” He said, turning around.

“I want to thank you for what you did.” She looked at him with a gratitude she was trying to put into words. Her gaze was so intense that he absurdly became convinced she could see right through him and felt ill-at-ease. So as always in those cases, he resorted to being sarcastic.

“You have nothing to thank me for, I didnʼt do it for you.” He said dryly.

“Huh?” She looked confused. Well, at least he was not the only one confused now.

“I donʼt like those boys, thatʼs all”, he added. “ You better get back to your room and take care of those bruises. In the future, do not tempt the devil by walking alone late afternoon that deep in the park. And for the sake of your freckles, stay the hell away from Reagan and his friends.”

Candy stared at him, unbelievingly. Terry approached her and grabbed her chin.

“Whatʼs the matter, why are you looking at me that way? Are you going to declare your love for me, Little Freckly Face?” Terry could not believe the words had come out of his mouth and was wondering what was the deal with his brain and why he was so obviously insane.

Candy was too stunned to answer. Terry kept on going, still holding her chin, rubbing it lightly with his thumb, very much enjoying the smooth feel of it.

“I know a discreet spot where we could make out, you want to come?” His left hand was in his pocket and he crossed his fingers, madly hoping she would say yes.

“Oh! But you got to be crazy!! Thatʼs quite out of the question!” She had turned bright red and seemed genuinely outraged by his suggestion.

“What? You are refusing? Well, good, Iʼm glad. I donʼt like young girls anyhow, especially when they are freckly like you! Good bye Freckles!” This time he had done it: he had gone from hero to zero in less than a minute. What the hell was wrong with him? All he had to do was to graciously accept her thanks, and maybe offer her to come with him back to the cafeteria for some tea. He had the perfect occasion to get to know her served to him on a silver platter by those three morons and he blew it!

Incensed, Candy kept yelling as he walked away:

“I already told you once, and Iʼll say it again, I like my freckles very much. And for your information, you stuck up snotty brat, my name is Candice White Andrew.”

He kept on walking, her angry rant slowly fading away. Candice White Andrew. Room 368. Coincidently, it was the girlsʼ equivalent to his own bedroom.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 6

​

​

​

​

Saint-PaulAcademy – January 28th, 1994

​

​

Today was his birthday. How strange it felt to know that Mia would not be calling so they can have their own private phone celebration. Seventeen. One more year and he would legally be free to go as he pleased. His original plan had been to go to New York to study acting. Mia would have come along, trying to find an art gallery to display her work. They had fantasized about living in an artist studio in SoHo. But that was not meant to be and he was now at a loss what to do. All he knew was that attending Oxford as his father wished him to was not an even remote possibility.

His maternal grand-parents had set up a trust fund he would gain full access of the day he would turn eighteen. It should give him the freedom to make the radical change he so much needed if he wanted to have a chance at happiness. In the meantime, he had to be patient and focus on getting his life back on track.

His father was taking him out for dinner that night, and he was not looking forward to it. He did not feel up to the questioning his father would inevitably subject him to, probing for any sign of foul play. What Terry really wanted was to get drunk. Never had a Guinness sounded so good. He had been a good boy and felt he deserved a treat. His sessions with Kyle were starting to show some results, he did not feel angry all the time anymore, and was able to sleep a little bit better. Miaʼs final minutes were still haunting his dreams though and he would more often than not wake up full of rage, frustration and above all an infinite sadness. It was in moments like these that he was craving for the numbing effects of drugs and alcohol and resisting the urge to get wasted was excruciating. A few days ago, he had turned his bedroom upside down in a search for any dulling substance that may have survived his crackdown of the previous week. He had managed to find two pills of ecstacy inside the pockets of the jacket he wore at the last rave he attended back in November. It had taken all his strength to flush them down the toilet, crying miserably.

He had not talked or seen his father since their last fallout. His personal assistant had been the one leaving the message about the dinner tonight, and she had without a doubt been the one who made the reservation at the San Lorenzo restaurant, the Knightsbridge institution for the rich and famous his father always took business acquaintances to. And she most likely also bought his birthday present, probably something she got from Burberry, using his father corporate account there.

A much pleasant way to spend his birthday would have included a nice dinner with Candy. He had not seen or talked to her since the evening following her attack by Neil Reagan. And he doubted very much she would talk to him ever again. Things had not gone quite as smoothly as he had hoped they would. Upon returning to his room, he had realized that he should have accompanied Candy back to the main building and suggested to go with her to the person in charge of the campus security to report Neilʼs assault. After pondering it over for a while, he had finally found the guts to call her. The phone rang six times before she answered, sounding sleepy.

“Hello?”

“Hello Candy. This is Terrence Grandchester.” His hands were moist and his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Who?”

“The guy who just saved your freckles!” he answered, somewhat hurt she had not been able to place him right away.

“Oh, of course! Hi….” She answered, visibly surprised.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine, thank you. How are you?”

“Good…. Listen, I was just thinking. Maybe you should report what happened to the campus security… Iʼd be more than happy to come with you and testify.”

“Oh, it is so kind of you. But it wonʼt be necessary.”

“ I see… Did you already go?”

“Hum… Well…. No….” She said, hesitantly.

“Arenʼt you going to?”

“No.” Came the definite answer.

“What do you mean, no?” Asked Terry, uncertain.

“I mean no.”

“Freckles, the guy would have raped you had I not intervene and you are not going to do anything about it?” He could not help but raise his voice.

“First, would you please stop calling me Freckles, this is really irritating. And please stop mentioning that…. That thing….” She sounds uneasy.

“What THING?” asked Terry, annoyed by her reluctance. He had anticipated her to readily agree, go right away report the incident and maybe she could have joined him for dinner at the cafeteria.

“That thing about Neil. Iʼve known him for years, he would never had done such a thing. And besides, we are family.”

“So what? That gives him the right to maltreat you unpunished?”

“ He was not maltreating me, he was just teasing me, trying to scare me. He always does that.”

“Iʼm sorry but from where I was standing it did not look like teasing at all. He was dead serious.”

“Listen Terry, I appreciate your concern but it is OK, there is no need to make a big deal out of this minor incident.”

“So you call someone threatening to rape you a minor accident? What if I had not been around?”

“Would you stop using that word! Neil would never do that. Never. I told you Iʼve known him for years, he just likes to torment me. He is too much of a coward to do anything like that.”

“Very well. What if I were to report it?”

“I forbid you!” came the vehement answer.

“What if he goes after another girl who is not as lucky as you were and rapes her. How would you feel then?” Terry could not believe that girl. That creep had been very intent on raping her and she was protecting him!

“For the last time, stop using that word! It is horrible. Neil is not that kind of person. He comes from a well-respected family. Now donʼt mention this ever again. If you report it, Iʼll deny it and say you are lying.”

“You are absolutely insane Freckles, do you know that?!” Cried out Terry in frustration.

“Who are you to judge me! You donʼt know me! And for crying out loud, stop it already with the freckles! Yes, I am fully aware, I have freckles, so sue me! Now if youʼll excuse me, itʼs been along day and I want to go to sleep. Good night.” And just like that, she hung up on him.

Terry was puzzled by what she had just told him. What kind of girl would let a guy who threatened to rape her walk away unpunished, except for a few bruises. He just could not understand her motivation. He had seen her in the school hallways several times since that conversation took place but she had gone out of her way to avoid him, which had hurt him immensely. For some reason, he could not get her out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. He desperately wanted her to like him but things were not looking too good right now.

It was 3 P.M. and he was done with his classes for the day. He had returned to his bedroom and had found a message from his mother. She was pretty much incoherent, wishing him a happy birthday and assuring him of everlasting love, pleading for him to call her at Jeffʼs and breaking down in heavy sobs. Then Jeff had come on the line, wishing him a happy birthday, hoping all was well and urging him to call back. Terry was sitting on his desk, contemplating the phone. It was 6.a.m in Seattle. The message had been left 3 hours ago. Chances are they would be sleeping and he could just leave a message on Jeffʼs office line. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, lighted one with a shaking hand, inhaled deeply from it before picking up the receiver and dialing Jeffʼs number.

Jeff answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey Jeff!”

“Terry!!!! Finally! Happy birthday son! How are you?”

“Alright. Whatʼs up?”

“Eleanor is having a major breakdown. She is supposed to do a bunch of promo for the movie but just canʼt do it. She did a few interviews but they were disastrous. She turned down an appearance on Oprah. Her publicist is furious. Iʼve been on the phone all night doing some damage control. She stays in bed most of the time. Kurt comes to visit and she only agrees to go out with him. People are starting to talk. Rumors are circulating about Miaʼs drug use. Your Mom had a catfight with Courtney in a bar yesterday. Courtney barged in on her with Kurt and started screaming at Eleanor, calling her a lousy mother, a home wrecker, and threatening to kill her. It was bad. Kurt intervened and the three of them were screaming and fighting. The cops were called. Of course there were paparazzi and it will be all over the tabloids this morning. The Oscars nominations will be announced on the 9th, if she doesnʼt get one, I donʼt know what sheʼll do. Thatʼs the only thread of hope she is hanging on to. And you ignoring her calls does not help.“ Jeff said, somewhat reproachfully, which incensed Terry.

“Well, maybe Courtney has a point. She is no candidate for best mother of the year award, is she? I did not call her back simply because I donʼt feel like talking to her. We said everything that was left to be said the night Mia passed away. You were not there, you cannot understand. She did something that Iʼll never be able to forgive were I to live a thousand years.”

“Terry, she is your mother, she loves you. You guys need to be there for each other. You are all she has left.”

“And it is her bloody fault Iʼm the only one left.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Listen Jeff, I donʼt want to have this conversation. “

“Terry, please. I know how much you must be hurting but donʼt shut her off. If there was a time you needed to pull together, it is right now. You can help each other go through this.”

“ Why should I help her get over something she caused? She created the situation sheʼs in, let her deal with it. She already did more than enough to fuck me up. I donʼt need more of her shit.”

“I have no fucking clue what you are talking about but you are not making any sense! Listen, would you call back later on when she is awake?”

“Iʼm calling now. Go wake her up.”

“Well… I would if she was here.”

“Let me guess. She is at Kurtʼs? What the fuck is she doing?”

“I donʼt know. Sheʼs trying to make sense of things I guess.”

“Well, good luck to her. Iʼm working on that myself. But I donʼt need to fuck a rock star in the process. Tell her I called and to please stop calling me. Bye.” And he slammed down the receiver.

Why had he bothered to call when he knew it would upset him. He felt anger rising, he wanted to scream. A sense of claustrophobia was creeping in, the room was becoming too small to contain his rising fury. Never in his life had he been so desperate for a drink. Thatʼs when he remembered that during his flight back from Los Angeles he had taken from the stewardessʼs cart a few miniature whisky bottles he had shoved in his travel bag. He was very much relieved to find them still in the bag; thankful that whoever inspected his bag when he came back to Saint-Paul did not do a thorough job. He grabbed one and drunk it in a single gulp. Disgusted with himself and his lack of willpower when alcohol was concerned, he threw the empty bottle across the room where it crashed against the wall. Without bothering to clean up, and before he gave in to temptation and reached for another bottle, he grabbed his jacket and went out.

************

Terry was lying in the grass, smoking. His eyes were half-closed. He had been lying there for a while, dazed and light-headed. The pale winter sun was shining, offering a much-welcomed source of heat, however small it was. He was drifting into sleep when he heard a girlʼs scream:

“Fire! Fire! Quick, I must do something!” Followed by some hurried footsteps.

“But what are you doing?” came the voice Terry had been longing to hear for some days now. He turned around, the cigarette still in his mouth. Candy stood in front of him, wearing jeans, a sweater, her eternal brown winter coat and a green beanie on her curls, her cheeks red from the mad run up the small hill he had retreated to so many times before.

“Whatʼs the matter? Canʼt I have a moment of peace? And why on earth do you look so agitated?” He asked, standing up and proceeding to blow smoke into Candyʼs face. The young girl started coughing.

“Terrence!” She said, still coughing. “You are smoking on school grounds! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Donʼt look so indignant, when youʼre dying to try, little freckled face… Do you want a puff?” He offered.

“I donʼt want anything at all!!!” She said, taking a step back.

“Oh, donʼt make that face, it doesnʼt suit you! Especially with your freckles!” Said Terry laughing.

“Oh!!! You!!!” Said Candy, upset.

“When youʼre angry, you wrinkle your nose, and your freckles are moving with it too! Ha, ha, ha…Itʼs so funny Miss Freckles!”

“How many times have you said “freckles”? I forbid you to call me Freckles, I thought Iʼd already told you so! You are an insolent ill-mannered boar.”

“Oh… I see. What should I call you to please you then? Miss Tarzan?”

“Huh? What do you mean by Miss Tarzan?” Candy looked puzzled.

“Let me tell you about a scene quite extraordinary I see from my balcony pretty much every evening: a white rope is rolled around the branch of a tree and a gracious little monkey uses it to go from the girlsʼ to the boysʼ dorm... Should I go on?” Terry had seen her doing just that for the past few days, landing on to his neighborʼs balcony. Thatʼs when it had clicked in his mind: the Dandy looking guy from the airport was his neighbor, no wonder he had looked familiar. Terry did not socialize much with the other students and had no contact whatsoever with his neighbors. He had felt a pang upon realizing whom Candy was visiting every night. They were obviously a couple, a mismatched one but a couple nevertheless.

“So letʼs see,” he continued, “How should I call you? Miss Freckles? Miss Tarzan? Or maybe a little mix of both? Miss Freckled Tarzan? What if Iʼd simply call you Cheetah, the little she-monkey?”

“Donʼt you dare!”

“Iʼm afraid youʼll have to get used to it!” He said mockingly, taking a drag from his cigarette and turning his head sideways to blow the smoke away from her.

“Iʼve already told you that my name is Candice White Andrew. From now on I will only answer to that name! Get it through your thick head already!!! “

“Oh I understand very well. It will all be done according to your wishes, Miss Freckled Tarzan.”

“Oh…” Candy took a deep, desperate breath.

“And donʼt get angry, itʼs not a very pretty sight. The angrier you get, the more visible your freckles become!”

“Aaaargh…” She looked about to explode so he decided to drop it and change the subject.

“So…. What are you doing here? Tempting the devil again?”

“I could ask you the same question…”

“If you must know, I hate the company of others and enjoy being alone”, said Terry turning around.

“ Seriously? You are so weird! Well, I have something to tell you: this place is very important to me because it reminds me of a hill I love very much in America! And I forbid you to come smoking here without asking me first!” She announced fiercely, marching off with her nose in the air.

Terry whistled and said sarcastically:

“I should get her permission! Good one!”

He took one last puff before tossing the cigarette aside and called out:

“ Hey! Come back! Iʼm sorry, OK? Give me a break, itʼs my birthday! Canʼt I celebrate? Wanna go have some cake with me at the cafeteria?”

She stopped and turned around.

“Itʼs your birthday? Well, happy birthday! Why arenʼt you celebrating with your friends and family?”

“I donʼt have any friend. My father is taking me out for dinner later on. So what do you say? Would you like to have some cake and tea?”

“OK,” she said, blushing slightly.

They started walking toward the cafeteria.

“Iʼm sorry about the other night, I did not mean to sound ungrateful.” She said very fast.

“Donʼt worry about it.”

“It was rude of me and Iʼm sorry. Iʼm new here, I just want to keep a low profile and avoid problems…”

“Better start by avoiding Neil Reagan then.”

They walked in silence till Terry asked:

“So, were in the US are you from Candy?”

“Chicago area.”

“Why are you here?”

“My cousins are here and my adoptive father wanted me to come as well.”

“Ah, your cousins are also students in this lovely institution?”

“Yes. Maybe you know them, Archibald and Stear Cornwell.”

“ The names sound familiar.” He said, relieved beyond belief. His cousins, those guys were her cousins! “I donʼt know that many students. Did you make any friends yet?”

“Not really…. Itʼs been pretty hard. The girls are not friendly and I feel lonely. I cannot see my cousins as much as I want to. Thatʼs why I sneak in their room at night. Schoolwork is hard and I feel like I spend most of my time studying. The school has too many rules, we are not allowed to do anything. I feel trapped. Thatʼs why I come to this hill every chance I get, it is like being back home in a way… You must think Iʼm stupid.” She looked embarrassed to have open up to him.

“Not at all. I admire your honesty. Any other girl would have said everything was great, that she had a very busy social life and so on. “ He said, smiling at her. She smiled back and he felt he was melting. Her smile was like a ray of sunshine, warming him up to the very core.

They walked silently for a while then Candy said, hesitantly.

“I want to present you my deepest condolences about your sister. It was the talk of the school on my first day,” she added when he looked at her questioningly. “I lost someone I cared deeply about six months ago so I know where youʼre coming from.” She touched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Thank you.” He said, deeply moved by her simple gesture.

He was wondering whom she had lost and was about to ask her as they reached the main grounds and were heading toward the cafeteria when a nun came towards them, calling out:

“Miss Andrew! Come immediately. You have a visitor!”

“A visitor? For me?” She asked, visibly surprised.

“A Mr. Brighton. He has your fatherʼs authorization to take you out. Please follow me.”

“Terry, Iʼm so very sorry. I really would have loved to share a birthday cake with you but I must go. He is my best friendʼs father.”

“No problem.” Said Terry, cursing his luck.

“Miss Andrew! Follow me now! Mr. Brighton has been waiting for too long! I donʼt want him to think we are unable to locate our students.”

“Iʼm coming Sister Margaret! Bye Terry!”

“Bye Freckles!”

She had taken a few steps and Terry was watching her go when she turned around and came running back to him.

“Itʼs Candy! Remember it!” she said, holding his shoulders and kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Happy birthday!” She added before running back to Sister Margaret. The whole thing happened in less than thirty seconds. Terry was so surprised that he was still standing there motionless when she was long gone from his sight. What had started as the worst birthday ever turned out to be the best one!

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 7

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Claridgeʼs Bar – February 1st, 1994

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Terry walked in the stylish Art Deco Claridgeʼs bar he was to meet Kurt at, feeling extremely nervous and fidgety. He did not exactly know what to expect from this meeting but suspected it would be emotionally draining and involve some cursing and screaming. He had drunk another miniature whisky bottle and smoked some marijuana before sneaking out of school in a lame attempt to calm his nerves. He quickly scanned the refined room, with the stunning ceiling covered in silver leaf, for the rocker familiar silhouette. Terry had found the glamorous bar with the vibrant atmosphere a rather unusual choice coming from Kurt who had always professed a profound disdain for anything of that nature and was not known to frequent places patronized by the rich and famous. Terry wondered if he had given up his core beliefs and turned into what he despised: the cliché rock star with the luxury life and pretty actress lover.

Terry walked toward the cozy rear seating area of the bar, aptly named Snuggery. It could seat twenty people but on that evening, there were only three men. Two of them had their back facing Terry and he was confused for a fraction of second as to which one to go to for they both had long blond hair and a similar body frame. But the resemblance stopped there. Their outfits and demeanor were radically different. One was wearing a perfectly cut black suit and having an animated conversation with another man with short black hair and a mustache. The other was the well-known figure of Kurt, slumped on his armchair, lost in a cloud of smoke. He had a bottle of Evian in front of him and was playing with a cigarette. Terry took a deep breath and walked on.

“Hey!” He said, taking a seat on the red leather banquette in front of the king of grunge, nervously running a shaky hand through his hair.

Kurt looked at him and smiled, extending his left hand.

“Terry! Glad you could make it.” They shook hands. Kurtʼs hand was smooth and fine for a man.

They stood there for a while, taking each other in without saying a word. The last time Terry had seen Kurt had been in November 1991, when Nirvana had given a concert in Glasgow. Mia was there and they had spent a week-end at the Grandchesterʼs villa in the Scottish Borders. Kurt was dating Courtney on and off at the time, and discreetly carried on his affair with Mia.

A waitress came and Terry ordered some Sake and tuna sashimi while Kurt ordered a hummus sandwich and some champagne. Once she was gone, Terry asked:

“Champagne huh? What are we celebrating?”

“ Friendship. Love. Hate. Life. Death. Take your pick.” Answered Kurt, in his soft, wavery voice that contrasted so much with his raspy singing voice. He looked at Terry straight in the eyes and asked:

“So… How have you been?”

“Quite alright,” said Terry, reaching for Kurtʼs pack of Winston Lights on the table and helping himself to one.

“You look good. Very handsome actually. All grown up in your fancy clothes.”

“You look like shit.” Terry answered, lighting up his cigarette. He did not say so just to be mean; it was the truth. Kurt had a grayish complexion, sunken cheeks, pin-holed eyes. He was skinnier than he had been when Terry had last seen him. He was not closely shaved; his shoulder length hair was straggly, greasy and tangled up. He was wearing ripped up jeans, a black t-shirt advertising some underground band and a grey wool cardigan.

“ Ah, Terry, always brutally honest. I always liked that about you. Too many people treat me like Iʼm some kind of fucking god, so ridiculous. Your honesty is refreshing, you have no idea. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Howʼs the baby?”

“Sheʼs great! The best thing that ever happened to me!” He became animated talking about his daughter. “Iʼm crazy about her. Sheʼs gonna be two this year. And you should see Leni, she is totally in love with her.”

“ So thatʼs what you guys have been up to? Playing house?” Terry could not hold back the snappy remark.

“I see someone has been reading the tabloids. You should not believe everything you read.”

“I believe what I see. The pictures were quite unequivocal. The two of you looked pretty chummy.”

“Ok, I knew we would end up talking about this so letʼs do it now and be done with it. What do you want to know?”

“Are you banging my Mom?”

“No.”

“I donʼt believe you.”

“Fine. But why did you ask if you had already made up your mind not to believe me?”

“Fuck off.”

“Come on now, I know you are way more articulate than that. Whatʼs your problem dude?”

“My problem is that you broke my sisterʼs heart and within a week of her passing, you had my Mom back in your bed!”

“Fair enough. What else?” Kurt was looking at him intently, his left hand resting on his cheek.

Terry looked at him and was finally able to see who Mia had fallen in love with, a very personable, articulate man, who looked like he actually gave a shit about what you had to say.

“Very well. Youʼre asking for it. I hate the fact that my Mom is using Miaʼs death to make you feel sorry for her and get back in your pants. I hate the way she manipulates people and always gets her way. I hate that you are with her while Mia is rotting six feet under!” He finished, furiously wiping the angry tears that had started to spill with his sweater sleeve.

The waitress came and discreetly put down their order.

Terry reached for the sake and drank it all directly from the serving bottle, the hot alcohol burning his mouth. Kurt was still looking at him, a grave look on his face.

“ Go on.” He said.

“And I hate her for letting Mia die!” Terry finally cried out, bursting into heavy tears, hating himself for not being able to control the flow of emotions that had awaken upon seeing Kurt.

“And she hates herself for doing it. Not a second goes by without her thinking about it. It is driving her crazy. She has to learn to live with it and Iʼm not sure sheʼll be able to. Iʼm her friend Terry, I cannot stand by idly and let her disintegrate.”

“What about Mia? You had no bloody problem leaving her to disintegrate on her own you dumb fuck!” Tears gave way to raw anger. Terry was about to lash out, he wanted to punch Kurt in the face and keep punching till his knuckles bleed.

“So you think you know everything huh? You donʼt know shit! You think because you guys were twins you are the only one who misses her and who is angry about what happened? Do you think I like the idea she is gone? I hate it! It makes the world a much darker and lonely place. She did not deserve that. Nobody does but especially not her. Donʼt you dare telling me I did not care about her. You have no fucking clue what went down between Mia and I. Do you think it was easy for me to dump her? It was one of the toughest fucking thing Iʼve ever done! But I had no choice! She was a kid, she was fucking 15!!! Courtney was pregnant, you know, it just felt right to marry her and let Mia go. She deserved much better than a 25 year old junkie! I could not bring myself to tell her face to face, I was afraid I would change my mind you know. So I did what every coward do: dumped her by phone, straight from Hawaii, calling from the fucking bathroom while my brand new wife was waiting for me in the bedroom. But I had no fucking choice you know, I wanted what was best for her, I did not want for her to end up like me, washed up and disenchanted.”

“What is this? Letʼs feel sorry about Kurt hour? The fact is that you are alive and kicking while she is bloody dead!”

“What do you want me to do? Blow my fucking brains off? Would that make you feel better? Do tell me, in what way am I responsible for her death? I certainly did not introduce her to drugs, I never even did any drugs with her! Thatʼs the last thing I want you know, influence people. Drugs are boring. All of them. Sure, it is all fun for the first few weeks but than it gets just plain boring.”

“You are just part of this fucking environment she was always in, the music scene and the god damn Hollywood crap.”

“There you go, pulling the classic “Letʼs blame the bad influence” game. Donʼt you get it? Miaʼs death was a terrible mistake, a tragic accident. No one is to blame for it, except Mia herself for stupidly snorting the first thing she was able to get her hands on to.”

“Donʼt you dare! Donʼt you dare talk trash about her you fucking asshole!”

“Face it Terry! She had a drug problem, she was irresponsible, she would take just about anything anyone would give her! She was too naïve! If she wanted to party all night then there was no one that could stop her. She would go until her stomach spilled onto the floor. She got mixed up with the wrong guys, I was only one of many. She got messed up on the wrong drugs. It never occurred to her this shit could kill her. Iʼve been around her when she was doing drugs and it was crazy! She was this beautiful kid, passionate, super smart, with a propensity to indulge in drink and drugs. She was getting wasted on anything she could get her hands on and becoming completely numb. She did not do drugs on a daily basis, at least not at the time I was around her, but when she did, she was out-of-control, it was crazy. But guess what? If she had to live it all over again you know she wouldnʼt change anything for the world. “

“Bullshit! You and my Mom were her fucking problems. You led her to that! Has she been around normal people none of that would have happened.”

“Stop it! I did not lead her to anything! When I met her, I could not believe how bright and mature she was. I also couldnʼt believe how messed up she was. She actually reminded me of the way I was when I was her age. She was open to every experience, never saying no to anything. She was very promiscuous, but also very open and comfortable with her sexuality. And in my opinion in desperate need to be loved and thinking that giving her body away would buy her happiness. It was quite sad actually.” Kurtʼs voice became low and coarse, his face took a haunted expression.

“Not sad enough for you to say no when she approached you! You fucking pedophile!”

“ You shut the fuck up and listen. I donʼt have your looks, my teenage years were nothing like yours! Heck, girls were not even noticing me, especially the pretty ones. When Leni came on to me, I could not believe it. Of course, I went for her, I just had to, for once Iʼd be the one fucking the pretty girl you know. Yes, it was all about sex and personal gratification. But Mia was different. I never used her for sex if thatʼs what youʼre thinking. I was seeing your Mom but she was on set for hours on and I hung out with Mia a lot while waiting for Leni to get back home. Mia was funny, bright, smart, it was easy to forget she was a just a kid. And when she told me she liked me… ” Kurtʼs voice broke off. He reached for the dark red rose that was topping the shiny round table and started removing the petals one by one.

“What kind of man seduces his girlfriendʼs 15 year old daughter? What about common decency?”

“What about love? What about feeling an attraction so strong it leaves you unable to think straight? You know it is wrong but you canʼt help it. All you know is that you want to hold this person tight against your heart.”

Terryʼs thoughts immediately drifted from Mia to Candy, Candy he was supposed to take out to a movie on Saturday, Candy he so desperately needed to hold in his arms and hear her tell him that everything was going to be just fine.

“You think Leni does not give a shit?” Kurt kept going, crushing his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. “Iʼd say she is suffering way more than you do! It was her daughter, she was living with her, she loved her you know. Yes, she does have a different approach to motherhood than what is the norm but who defines the norm, who is to say what is right or wrong when it comesʼ to someone elseʼs kids? She truly loved her, just like she does love you, deeply and madly. And Mia loved her too. Sure, they had their disagreements but Mia adored your Mom. As much as she loved you, and even your Dad. She was really bummed he showed no interest in her. You should blame your father if you must blame anyone, but not Leni. She really did all she could.”

Terry gestured for the waitress who had come by to serve their dinner to the two men on the other table and asked her for a whiskey. Kurt ordered another Evian and lit up a new cigarette.

“Terry, why are you so angry with Leni? She needs you. Call her. Talk to her. “

“Or what? You think because you are worshipped by a bunch of idiots and whatever crap you say or write is considered Godʼs words I should blindly obey your wishes and go, “Sure Kurt, Iʼll call her. Thank you. Youʼre great. I love you.” Is this what you want?”

“Cut it off. You know Iʼm acting as a friend. I like your family a lot and it saddens me to see what is happening.”

“Oh thatʼs right, Kurt the family friend. Quite a friend indeed. What have you done besides fucking the women of my family? Youʼve done shit! Where were you when Mia was falling deeper into drugs? Screwing your wife? Shooting up? You make me sick.” Terry took one furious drag from his cigarette before crushing it into his untouched plate.

The waitress came by, quickly gave them their drinks and left. Terry downed his in one gulp. He was feeling dizzy but most and foremost extremely angry.

“You know what your problem is Terry? You are jealous, jealous I was able to give Mia something you could never give her, jealous I was fucking her, jealous that she liked it! Admit it, you had the hots for her! How often did you masturbate thinking of her? How many fantasies did you have about screwing her?”

Upon hearing the crude suggestion, Terry became enraged. He got up and jumped on Kurt, grabbing him by the collar, both of them falling on the hard wood floor, dragging the table down with them, its content shattering on the floor all around them. Terry felt a sharp pain in his leg but ignored it. He pinned Kurt under him, grabbed a piece of broken glass and held it against Kurtʼs neck, oblivious to his fingers that were starting to bleed from holding the sharp edge.

“Go ahead, kill me! If that can make you feel better, just do it.” Said Kurt in a low whisper, looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Shut the fuck up!” Terry screamed. His hand was shaking, a small pearl of blood had appeared on Kurtʼs skin when he felt a strong pair of hands pulling him away.

“Calm down son,” said a warm voice. “Come on, stand up.” The hands were now under his armpits, proceeding to lift him up. Once on his feet, he felt a pulsing pain on his left calf and looked down: his jeans were soaked in blood.

The other man was helping Kurt up. He was rubbing his neck and looking at the blood on his fingers. The waitress was coming with a man who was sweating heavily.

“Is everything Ok?” he inquired, nervously clasping his hands.

“Yes. I just fell. No big deal. Sorry for the mess. Put it on my room.” Offered an apologetic Kurt, rubbing his right elbow.

“Very well sir.” The man left with the waitress, both of them looking back repeatedly to make sure things were indeed OK.

“Terry… Iʼm sorry… I saw it in your eyes you wanted to hit me so I thought Iʼd gave you a reason to. You keep too much anger inside man.” Kurt was smiling, seemingly finding the whole thing very amusing.

“Youʼre a fucking maniac!” Said Terry, lunging at Kurt only to fall on the ground, his hurt leg refusing to support him.

“Thatʼs enough for tonight. Iʼll take you home.” Offered the stranger.

“Thanks man. I donʼt want to be around this pathetic excuse for a human being any longer.” Uttered Terry with the most contempt he could put in his voice.

“I'd rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not." Kurt kept grinning.

“Whatever… Letʼs go.” Said Terry, holding on to the stranger for support.

“Where to?” Asked the stranger as they started to walk away from Kurt who was back on his chair, lighting up a new cigarette and assuring the mustached guy that he was Ok and did not need any help.

“Saint-PaulAcademy. I may need your help sneaking back in. I donʼt think my leg will support me.”

“Donʼt you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No, I need to get back. If they find out Iʼm gone, Iʼll be in deep trouble.”

“Looks like you are already in trouble.”

“Welcome to my world. Iʼm Terry by the way.”

“Albert.”

“Well thank you Albert.”

They were on the sidewalk and Albert pointed to a black Mercedes with tinted windows.

“Thatʼs our ride.”

“Nice! Hope I wonʼt get blood all over it.”

“Donʼt worry about it.”

Terry sat on the passenger side and Albert took the wheel.

“So youʼre at Saint-Paul uh?”

“Yep.”

“I have a friend there.”

“Cool. So I donʼt have to give you directions. If you donʼt mind, Iʼm going to rest during the ride.”

“Go right ahead. I have some aspirin, you want some?”

“Thanks!”

Terry swallowed the aspirin tablet and closed his eyes. He felt like he had been hit by a train. His head was throbbing, his eyes were burning, and his leg was killing him. But strangely enough, he also felt relieved.

**************

The car came to a stop in front of the main gate. Terry opened his eyes and looked at his companion.

“Where to?”

“South side, the wall is easy to climb.”

“You do realize you are in no shape to climb up a wall?”

“Iʼll manage.”

“Non sense. Iʼll go with you.”

“I donʼt want to be more of a bother than I already am.”

“Itʼs no problem. Really. Iʼm glad I can help.”

“Thanks. I donʼt know why you are helping me but Iʼm very grateful.”

Albert parked the car and they got out. Terry could not help but scream in pain when he stood up.

“Are you sure you donʼt want to go to the hospital?”

“Iʼll be fine. It hurt like a sonofabitch but a few painkillers will do the trick.”

Albert helped Terry up and climbed after him. They slowly made their way to the dormitory building, Terry increasingly weak and not quite aware of his surroundings. He felt himself drift away several times and was afraid he would pass out before he reached his bedroom.

“Where is your room?”

“Just let me in through the fire exit, on the west side, Iʼll get to the stairs from there.”

“Are you sure?” There was a real concern in Albertʼs voice.

“Yes. Thank you.”

They finally reached their destination. Terry was drained and had trouble standing up.

“Here you are.”

“Thanks. I owe you big time. How can I ever repay you?”

“I work at the Blue River Zoo, come and pay me a visit.”

“I will.”

“Take care of this wound.”

“Donʼt worry, Iʼll be fine. Thanks again for everything. Bye Albert.”

“Bye Terry.” He whispered as he disappeared into the night.

Terry slowly opened the fire door that remained unlocked at all time, offering the students an easy way to sneak out. It always struck him as strange that no one ever had the common sense to install an alarm that would go on whenever the door was pushed open. All the students knew about it and were using it freely.

He headed toward the stairs, stopping several times to rest before he reached the third floor. He leaned heavily against the door and searched his pockets for his key. He was about to insert it in the keyhole when the door opened.

“Whatʼs all this racket?” In the doorway stood a sleepy looking Candy, wearing pink flannel pajamas with bunnies printed all over. Her blond hair was falling in thick and messy curls, making her face seem very small. The feeble light coming from her nightlight gave her a shiny, almost surreal glow. She looked to Terry like a heavenly apparition.

The pain in his leg was becoming unbearable, the long trek throughout the school had drained him from the little energy he had left and he stumbled in, reaching for Candy for support, only to miss and fall on the bedroom cold tiled floor.

“Oh! Terry!” Said an alarmed Candy, quickly shutting the door and kneeling next to him. ”What are you doing here, in the middle of the night?” She helped him sit up, settling his back against the wall.

“Iʼm sorry, the guy who brought me in made a mistake and let me in the wrong dorm,” said Terry, who could not believe of all bedrooms he had to end up in hers and let her see him in such a sorry state.

Candy stood up and turned the main lights on.

“Oh, but youʼre covered in blood!” She exclaimed, alarmed. “Wait, Iʼm going to take care of you.”

She disappeared into her bathroom and came back with a small wet towel.

“What happened to you Terry?” She inquired, looking at him with an expression beyond sadness. What he saw in her eyes was more like grief and he hated himself for being the cause of it.

“I had a fight over something stupid,” he slurred. “Donʼt worry about it.”

“Looks like it was pretty rough, wasnʼt it?” She asked, sitting next to him and proceeding to gently clean off his face.

“It was something I had to do. Some pathetic loser. I fell on some broken glass. Someone brought me back here or I would probably have killed the bastard.” Terry exclaimed, exhaling loudly.

“How horrible of you to say so! You cannot possibly be serious. Oh, your breath smells terribly like alcohol!” She screamed, making a shocked face and letting go of his left hand she had been cleaning.

“So what?” He said, leaning closer and exhaling in her face.

“ Ew! Gross!” Shouted Candy pushing him away, “What a way to behave! Youʼre a shameless lout! You violated the school rules once again! All that to go drink and fight!” She screamed, sounding deeply disgusted.

“Shhh!” Said Terry, putting a finger on her mouth, “Do you want the nuns to find me here and ouch! Oh…” Terry was gasping in pain, holding his left calf.

“You hurt your leg?”

“Yes, a cut… Hurts like hell…”

“We need to stop the hemorrhage.” Candy stood up to fetch a bottle of rubbing alcohol, some bandage and a pair of scissors.

“Hey! Whatʼs up with the scissors?”

“I need to cut your jeans off, they are sticking to your skin. I need to clean the wound.” She sounded so serious and professional that he could not help but tease her.

“Just ask, and Iʼll happily take my pants off.”

“Oh cut it out. You cannot stand up, this is the easy way. Trust me.” She said, kneeling down and proceeding to start cutting Terryʼs pants up to the left knee. The gash was just under the knee.

“Itʼs quite deep. Maybe you should have it checked by a doctor.” She said, giving him a worried look.

“No, it will be fine.”

Candy cleaned up the wound with the dexterity of someone used to deal with cuts and scraps.

“I have to disinfect it, sorry, it will sting a bit.” She warned as she proceeded to apply some rubbing alcohol.

“Go easy, youʼre hurting me!” He said, grimacing in pain.

“When you like to fight, you have to suffer the consequences!” She said, starting to put a bandage on.

“Be careful!” Said Terry, gasping. “OW! OW! Are you sure you are not wreaking vengeance on me, little Freckly face?!”

“No, not Freckly face, Mr. Grandchester, Miss Freckles, donʼt forget it!” She said, flashing her first smile of the evening.

“Thanks for reminding me, Tarzan Freckles!” He smiled back.

“Dear god, youʼre hopeless!” Said Candy, shaking her head but still smiling.

“Ouch, it really hurts. Donʼt you have some painkillers?” He inquired, hopeful someone who had cared for his wound with such a great diligence would have the medication to ease the pain that had been brought to a pitch, causing his whole body to shake.

“No, sorry. Iʼm not a pharmacy.” She remarked, looking worrisome again.

“Nevermind. Give me some time to regain some strength and Iʼll leave. I donʼt want you to get into trouble.” He said, wincing in pain.

“Shut up! Youʼre suffering enough as it is. Your forehead is burning up, you have a fever!” She said, placing a hand on his forehead. She looked at him silently, obviously trying to figure out what to do. He was about to reach for her hand when she got up and proceeded to put on her coat over her pajamas.

“Terry, I donʼt have what you need here.” She explained while tying her tennis shoes. “Iʼm going to run to a pharmacy and…”

“No! Itʼs not safe. You did a great job and I donʼt need anything else.” He immediately protested.

“Yes, you do! I canʼt let you go like that, youʼre a mess. You have a fever. Consider yourself lucky Iʼm not one of those girls who faint at the mere sight of blood or you would still be on the floor, bleeding to death!” She said, helping him to his feet and settling him on her bed. He was too exhausted to protest and let her take his shoes off. She arranged a pillow under his head and pulled the blanket on him.

“There. Comfy?”

“Candy, you donʼt have to do this.” He weakly objected.

“Shush. Donʼt worry and rest.” She said, giving the blanket a final pull. “We have a date on Saturday remember? I donʼt want you to find an excuse out of it! Just wait for me. Donʼt move. Iʼll be right back!”

She was about to go when he caught her arm.

“What is it? “ she asked, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and proceeding to arrange his pillow once more. She was looking at him with real concern, her green eyes looking deeply into his with great intensity as if trying to pierce through him, just like she had on their first meeting at the airport. But this time he could not help himself. He took a deep breath and reached out, pulling a very surprised Candy to him. He pressed his lips on hers, catching her muffled "Terry " in a sweet and soft kiss, their lips tentatively touching at first then becoming more passionate. Much to his delight, she was answering his kiss eagerly, her mouth fusing with his over and over again.

He cradled her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks. Her lips trembled and she shivered under his tender touch. Her hair was falling on to his face like a golden curtain. She was clinging to his sweater, her fingers caressing his neck. He became more confident and took the kiss deeper, his tongue fully entering her mouth and slowly wrapping around hers. Every nerve ending in his body came to life, his injuries a distant memory. He felt her trembling and realized she must felt the same way. He had kissed a lot of girls but this kiss was like nothing he had ever experienced. He was feeling things he had never felt or even dream of. He was transported to another world, a world where only the two of them mattered and nothing could touch them. Suddenly, he felt her tense up, tearing her mouth from his and a hard slap hit his cheek. Candy had jumped to her feet and was looking at him, her face a mixture of eagerness, confusion, and anger.

"What is wrong with you? " She was flushed, out of breath but also terribly angry. “Wanna tell me what was that all about?"

“Do you always slap guys you just shared the most mind blowing kiss with? Iʼm sorry. I just wanted to thank you.” Terry was rubbing his cheek where her hand had hit, a stingy feeling that could not take away the intense pleasure he had experienced from the kiss.

“A simple thank you would have been sufficient. Please donʼt do that ever again. Iʼm not that kind of girl.” Slapping him seemed to have curbed her anger and she now looked more annoyed than angry.

“You did not seem to mind! Admit it, you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“You are so full of yourself! You surprised me, thatʼs all. Iʼm gonna blame this incident on your fever, you must be delirious and not fully realize what you are doing. Now I better go.” She said, purposely avoiding his gaze and hurrying to her closet from where she took a rope and walked out to the balcony.

“Donʼt go,” pleaded Terry. He did not know how to tell her but he felt her presence by his side would be more helpful than any painkiller she could bring back. Especially after the intense moment they had shared. “What if you get caught? Please stay, I promise Iʼll behave.”

But Candy ignored his plea and tied the rope to the balcony.

“Iʼll see you in a bit!” She said, expertly going down.

That girl remained a mystery. Did she even know what would happen if she was caught sneaking out, or worst if the nuns came by and found him in her bed. Why would she risk everything for someone she barely knew? Terry did not ponder the question very long, he was exhausted and passed out.

When he woke up, he first did not know what happened or where he was. His nose was buried in the pillow and he could smell a most delicate perfume, a mixture of honeysuckle and roses.

“Candy”” He called out, the memory of the kiss coming back vividly.

He opened his eyes but she was not there. A beat up plush raccoon was staring at him from the edge of the bed. Terry suppressed a laugh. She was sleeping with a toy raccoon! He started moving around and a sharp pain went through his whole leg. He sat up, pushing the cover away and looked at his leg. The bleeding had stopped. That freckled girl was a good nurse. He stood up, holding on to the nightstand. The pain was bearable and he started to walk slowly around the room. There was a picture on the desk, a young man about his age, extremely handsome, with delicate features, high cheekbones, blond with keen and penetrating blue eyes that gave him a look similar to his own, smiling a frank smile, exposing perfect white teeth. Terry wondered it he was her boyfriend. He would have to find a way to ask her on Saturday. He went to the kitchenette for a glass of water and kept walking around some more. He looked at himself in the mirror and was appalled by his appearance: he had a few minor cuts all over his ashen face, dark circles under his eyes and a bluish bruise on his cheek. His hair was a tangled mess, sticky with a mixture of blood and who knows what other substances collected from his fall on the Claridgeʼs floor. It was no wonder Candy had slapped him. Who in their right mind would want to be kissed by someone like him?

Once he was confident his leg would hold him up back to his room, he let himself out, reaching the fire exit and making his way toward the boysʼ dorm, hoping he would not get caught in the corridors.

Once in the safety of his room, he fumbled for pain medication, did not find anything stronger than Advil, took two he washed down with his last whiskey bottle before laying on his bed with his clothes on. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, the feeling awakened by Candyʼs lips still burning throughout his body.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 8


BA Fligth # 2156 from Antigua to London – March 7th, 1994


Terrence Grandchester was nervously playing with the bottle of water the stewardess had given him with his lunch. He was 3 hours into the 8 hours flight back to England and was feeling restless. Not able to stand still anymore, he stood up and went to the first class bar area. He inconspicuously grabbed a whisky bottle and leant against the windowpane, looking at the perfectly white clouds with empty eyes, trying to ignore the insane feeling that his blood was thickening and would cause his veins to explode. Without giving it a second thought, he opened the bottle and gulped it down, the hard alcohol causing his empty stomach to contract, leaving him nauseated and most of all furious with himself for going back to drinking not even 24 hours out of rehab.

“Where do I go from here?” He murmured, the words coming out all weird. “Did I really sunk this low that I cannot resist the call of the bottle? Am I condemned to be a hopeless drunk?” Terry sat on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees, head resting on his lap. “Where are you now when I need you?” The last question addressed to Mia as much as Candy, Candy who had haunted his thoughts during his long stay at the CrossroadsCenter, sending him into pits of despair way deeper than the bittersweet memory of his deceased sister had.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, Iʼm fine, I just needed to stretch.”

“Can you please go back to your seat. The captain just turned on the seatbelt sign again. Is there anything you would like me to bring you?”

“Yes. Another shot at a normal childhood. My youthful innocence back. ” The stewardess looked at him quite uneasily, trying to determine if the handsome teenage boy was serious. Before she called for help with an insane passenger, Terry flashed his best smile and uttered a polite “Just kidding. Iʼm fine. Thank you,” and slowly walked back to his seat. Mercifully, the seat next to him was empty so he did not have to endure some mindless chatter from a total stranger.

He was desperate for a shower. He felt he needed to wash himself again and again to hide all the dirt and pain accumulated during his stay at the International Centre of Excellence for the treatment of alcohol, drugs and other addictive disorders his father had shipped him to following his fight with Kurt Cobain. How his father had heard about the incident he still did know but a pretty good guess was a phone call from someone who had recognized him at the Claridgeʼs. He had been too much of a socialite for the last couple of years and his presence rarely went unnoticed. The very next day, Richard Grandchester had burst into his sonʼs room at 6am, dragging Terry unceremoniously out of bed without any regard for his painful grunts, ordering him to pack a bag and take his passport. A fierce fist fight had followed between father and son, but Terry was far too weak and dazed to be much of a challenge for the older Grandchester who quickly immobilized his son and forced him to follow him, ignoring his fervent plea for a phone call to Candy before leaving. At 10:30am, both men were taking off from Gatwick to St-Johnʼs, Antigua -a beautiful Caribbean island located in the heart of the West Indies- Terry in a rising panic as to their destination and trip purpose, panic amplified by Richardʼs refusal to answer any of his questions. The eight hours plus flight went by without any single words exchanged between the two of them, Terry going in and out a feverish sleep.

Upon their arrival, a limousine took them to the CrossroadsCenter, the rehab center created by Eric Clapton. Only then had Terry discovered the purpose of the trip: Richard was tired of fighting a losing battle, tired of Terry constant lying, fighting and drinking, tired of watching idly while his elder son wasted his youth. So he decided to take some drastic measure and do something Eleanor had refused to do for Mia: force Terry to enter a residential treatment facility. He handed Terry a brochure advertising Crossroads as a place to help people and their families whose lives were controlled by alcohol, drugs or other compulsive behaviors, make the changes necessary to find a new health, a new sense of well-being and a new life of recovery.

“Thatʼs just peachy,” said Terry dryly. “Jeez Dad. Is this what you really think of me? That Iʼm an addict?”

Richard Grandchester gave his son a look filled with profound disdain and snapped:

“Please, do not insult my intelligence. I donʼt care whether you really are an addict or not. You are sure acting like one so you are going to be treated like one.”

Terry proceeded to sulk and they did not talk during the rest of the drive.

Upon their arrival, Terry had to admit that the brochure did not lie: the environment at Crossroads Centre was one of magnificent beauty and peace. Tucked away in the southeastern part of Antigua, far away from the distractions and demands of everyday life, the facility overlooked the tranquil blue waters of WilloughbyBay, the largest bay of the island. The palm trees blew gently in the historical Trade winds for which Antigua was famous. It was within the safety of this serene, calm atmosphere that Terry was to begin his journey to “whole person wellness” as they called it and follow a 12-step based residential program designed to treat individuals addicted to alcohol and other drugs and their families.

Terry met an admission counselor who started off by assuring him and his father that “Asking for help was often the most difficult step,” to which Terry replied that he was already receiving all the help he needed in London and did not need to be committed. The counselor clinched at the word “committed” and proceeded to lecture him on how rehab had nothing to do with being committed to a mental hospital and that addiction was not a mental illness but a loss of control of oneself to a substance, person, or process, as evidenced by physical, mental, and spiritual unmanageability. Alcoholism, chemical dependency and compulsive addictive behaviors were chronic, progressive and treatable diseases.

Terry listened to the whole thing, ruffling his hair with a nervous hand. He wanted a cigarette badly but did not have a chance to grab his pack and seriously doubted the man would oblige such a request. So instead, he started playing with his ring, turning it around his finger, putting it on and off repeatedly.

When the man finally shut up, Terry told him that it all seemed great but unfortunately he could not commit to anything at the moment because he had some obligation in London to tend to, was slowly but surely getting his life back on track and that there was no way in hell he could stay here for 30 days.

Richard shot him a furious gaze and asked him to go wait for him in the lobby, which Terry did, already knowing his fate was sealed and that his father would add whatever amount was necessary to the $ 19,500 program cost to insure that his son not only was accepted for treatment but was also kept for the full period.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, some guy came to take Terry to his room. He knew there was no point fighting and followed him. Richard left without bothering to say good-bye to his son.

The facility was composed of two residential buildings, which together could accommodate up to 36 clients. There were only 14 during Terryʼs stay.

The general belief at Crossroads was that it was therapeutically important for clients to be paired with a roommate. Each semi-private bedroom contained two single beds, private bath and outdoor veranda with a sitting area. Terry was paired with a 25 years old Australian music star with whom he spent countless hours playing music in the common area, Jason on the guitar and Terry on the piano. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed playing the piano. It also helped kill time, ease boredom between therapeutic activities and gave them something to do besides smoking cigarettes while obsessing about what they could not have.

The West Hall building housed the detox unit and a 24-hour nurseʼs station where Terry spent his first 2 days, nursing his wound. The nurse in charge was a lively Canadian nurse named Céline, deeply devoted to her job and her patients, whom Terry quickly seduced. Had he been asked, he would have been unable to tell why he did it. He felt he just had to do something or he would go mad. And sex seemed as good as anything else. He had forgotten how good sex could feel, and came to understand why Mia had been doing it so much. Sex as a way to numb pain and make one feel alive was healthier than binge drinking, popping pills and smoking dope, even if it was just as much addictive. He caught himself several times thinking about Candy while thrusting wildly into the young nurse, orgasming with a strength that left him drained, and obsessed with what making love to the real deal would feel like.

The initial phase of his treatment was detoxification. It was mercifully short for Terry whose physical evaluation and lab work did not reveal anything more than some marijuana in his system, and an obvious drinking problem, prompting Terry to ask for those lab results to be sent to his father who had been convinced Terry was addicted to harder drugs.

Massages were offered to help with withdrawal symptoms. Even though Terry never really went through withdrawal, he still enjoyed massages to help with anxiety and sleeplessness. He also enjoyed some very private moments with Adrianna, the Greek masseuse who often joined him in the outdoor Jacuzzi.

Terry had a hard time adjust to the strict rules of Crossroads that were somewhat reminiscent of St-Paulʼs. He felt overwhelmed by the amount of private and group meetings he had to attend. A lot of his issues were addressed, far too many for Terry to successfully integrate, and a lot of anger and resentment built up.

Terry was often uncooperative and indulged in outrageous behavior throughout his stay, dying his hair blue with some Manic Panic hair color cream he had found in his duffle bag, bringing back a vivid memory of Mia giving him the jar as a welcome gift in December, having sex compulsively with Céline and Adrianna as well as with a few female clients in the craziest spots.

He was eventually caught in the act with Céline after some staff members heard moaning noises coming from a bathroom stall and two voices could be heard. When they opened the door, the two were in a compromising position. Céline was promptly fired, Terry strongly reprimanded and assigned to bathroom cleaning duty for five days, despite his outrage at Célineʼs dismissal and argument that he should be kicked out of rehab for he had instigated the whole affair.

The incident was a slap in the face and forced him to keep a low profile and abide by the rules for the remaining two weeks of his stay. He felt guit-ridden about the young girl and was relieved to learn from another patient that she had always planned to go back home to Canada where a job in a hospital was waiting for her.

When he entered the final phase of treatment, he was at a better place emotionally, felt and looked pretty good. He had put on some weight, his skin had a golden tan from the daily jogging on the beach, followed by hours hanging out by the pool, smoking cigarettes and talking about how they used to get high with his rehab buddies. On his final day, he was provided with appropriate referrals and a comprehensive continuing care plan.

He was idly flipping through the pages of a polo magazine, the sense of dread he had felt at the beginning of the flight slowly drifting away as the plane was getting closer to England. Terry was thinking about how to implement what he had learnt during his stint in rehab and what Candyʼs role would be in all this –for even though he barely knew her, he was convinced she was to play a big part in his life- when the plane landed. He quickly gathered his belongings and was the first one to get off the plane, anxious to get to school and see Candy.

*************

Upon entering his room, he noticed that the red light from his answering machine was blinking furiously. He pressed the PLAY button.

“You have 21 new messages,” the electronic voice announced.

Candyʼs angry voice filled the room.

“Where are you? I was waiting for you for over an hour! I finally gave up when it started raining! I canʼt believe you stood me up! Youʼre a jerk! ”

Next message. Candy again. Sounding worried this time.

“Terry? Are you there? Hello? Please pick up? Are you OK? I was told youʼve not been in class for a few days and nobody has seen you. Call me.”

“Gosh Terry. What happened? Iʼm really getting worried. I sent my cousin knocking on your door but nothing. He said he did not hear any noise coming from your room for days. I hope youʼre fine. Please call me as soon as you get in.”

Terry pressed the STOP button and dialed Candyʼs room number. No answer. A look at the clock told him she was probably on the hill. He was about to leave the room when a magazine that had been sitting on top of the school work he would have to catch up with attracted his eye: his mother was on the cover. The headline read:

ELEANOR BAKER: THE TRUTH BEHIND HER DAUGHTERʼS DEATH, BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE AND OUTRAGEAOUS BEHAVIOR. HOW IT WILL AFFECT HER CHANCES COME OSCAR NIGHT.

Someone had written with a black pen on a yellow post-it note: Grandchester, how does it feel to have a junkie slut for a sister and a psycho for a mother? There was of course no signature, not that it needed to. It was a cowardly thing to do so Neil Reagan was most likely the culprit. Terry could picture him volunteering to drop the homework into his room and adding the magazine while the priest who escorted him was not looking.

Knowing it was a stupid thing to do, but unable to resist the urge that seized him, he picked it up and opened it to the double page dedicated to the story. There were various pictures of Eleanor holding a glass of wine and looking passably drunk. A shot of her on some TV entertainment news show, looking like she was arguing with the interviewer, a few shots with Kurt Cobain. The picture that drew his attention was one of Mia, or rather Miaʼs back, wearing only a bikini bottom, her long hair the way it was most often, tied up in a messy knot, revealing the moon she had tattooed on her lower back, laying by a pool next to a fully clothed Kurt Cobain, exchanging a cigarette, several empty beer bottles around them. Another shot of Mia –hollow eyes, ashen faced, but wearing a stupidly happy grin- getting out of some night club with 3 guys Terry could not identified but who were some musicians known for being druggies according to the caption. He scanned the five paragraphs that made up the whole article, tears welling in his eyes. Mia was depicted as an airhead junkie who slept with guys for drugs, Eleanor as a sex addicted bimbo whose career was going down in flames following her lack of professionalism during the Oscars campaign and her appearance visibly intoxicated on several public events, including the Oscars luncheon. And finally, there was a mention of himself: A source close to the family told us that Eleanorʼs son Terrence –pictured with his sister and mother at the Cannes Film Festival in May 1993- who lives in Britain with his father, has been sent to rehab for treatment of severe drug addiction for fear heʼll follow in his twin sisterʼs footsteps.

Terry threw the magazine across the room. Damn press. Donʼt they have any shame? Seeing the memory of his sister soiled by the filthy words printed made him furious. And to top it all, he was mentioned in it! That meant the whole school knew the reason of his sudden disappearance. Damn it! Candy! What would she think of him now?

“Well, better find out sooner than later,” he said to himself while exiting his room, banging the door shut.

He quickly walked to the hill, and sure enough, there was Candy, lying on the grass.

She heard his footsteps and turned around, a scared look on her face.

“Oh, Terry!” she said, visibly relieved to see him standing there instead of Neil Reagan.

“Well, where are your manners? It is not very lady like to lie in the grass. But I must say it is a glorious sight. What are you doing? Trying to attract a certain creep?” He was happy beyond words to have found her here but also worried that she was still hanging out in this remote part of the campus by herself.

“Youʼre completely healed! Iʼm so happy,” she exclaimed, ignoring his remark, standing up, smiling brightly and giving him a big hug.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Freckles. But in the future, donʼt waste your time worrying about me.” Terry was touched by her spontaneity and returned the hug.

“You very stubborn! I told you to call me Candy! And Iʼll worry about you every time youʼll give me a reason to! Why didnʼt you warn me you were going away for a while? I waited for you like an idiot and was worried sick. I thought your leg got infected and you had to be amputated or something. And where were you anyhow? And what on earth did you do to your hair? “

“What about my hair?”

“It looks kind of blue…”

“Oh, that. I had forgotten about it. It will go away with a few more shampoos. You should have seen it right after I did it, it was electric blue, pretty cool.”

“So what? You disappeared for over a month to color your hair? What is wrong with you?”

“I guess you do not listen to the school gossip, do you?”

Candy blushed, visibly uncomfortable, balancing from one leg to the other, her eyes averting his.

“Iʼm guessing by your reaction that the answer is yes.”

“Well… If you really must know, I heard a few things. But I did not believe any of it. I do not like gossip. I find it cruel and unfair.”

Terry looked at her, unsure what to do. She was standing still, looking at him intently, a serious look on her face. Terry took a deep breath and quickly said:

“I was in rehab.”

“So the rumors are true! You are an addict!” She looked deeply saddened and Terry hated being the cause of this sudden mood change.

“Iʼm not an addict, thatʼs a lie! I do have a bit of a problem but Iʼm not an addict. I can stop whenever I want. Itʼs not a habit. Itʼs cool. It makes me feel alive.”

“Terrence! Listen to yourself! So you just spent a month in rehab for something that is cool? And you did not find anything better to do there than dye your hair blue! And what is this non-sense about drugs making you feel alive? You are breathing, your heart is beating, what else do you need? I truly do not understand you. You have everything going for you! You are rich, handsome, bright. Why would you destroy it all by doing something as stupid as drugs? Do you realize how your parents must feel about it… You are breaking their hearts…. ”

“Ah! Ah! My parents? Please donʼt talk about something you know nothing about!” Terry was furious. How dare she talked to him about his parents, making those ridiculous assumptions.

“I may not know them but I know how lucky you are to have parents! I donʼt but if I did I can assure you I would not go around drinking, fighting and doing drugs. I would do everything in my power to make them proud of me.” She looked at him fiercely, her green eyes full of passion and anger.

“I did not expect you to understand. Miss Iʼm so good and perfect. You pass yourself off as an exemplarily young girl, but nevertheless, you did climb the wall…”

“I DID IT FOR YOU!!! Risking punishment! You could at least be grateful!”

“Once again, I didnʼt ask you for anything!” He said coldly. It had been a mistake to confess the truth. She could not understand. Now she was going to despise him for his weakness and not want to have anything to do with him ever again. That very thought felt as if someone had taken his heart out and was stepping on it.

“I didnʼt need to be asked for anything! I gladly offered my help! You were free to say no! If you cannot get this through your thick head, we have nothing left to say to each other. Goodbye!” She said, turning around to walk away. Not knowing what else to do, but resolved not to let her get away angry with him, Terry grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.

“ What do you think you…” He placed a fierce kiss on her lips. He was hoping she would understand by this kiss what she meant to him. He had intended to kiss her slowly but once his lips touched hers, he lost all control and the kiss took a life of its own. He was expecting her to slap him but she did not, instead surrendering fully, her hands locked firmly behind his neck, her lips meeting his with equal passion and an abandon that surprised and delighted him. They kissed hungrily, almost desperately, his tongue entering her mouth, stroking hers wildly. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, crushing her against his chest, her legs pushing against his. They remained locked in such an embrace for what felt like an eternity, kissing madly. He finally broke the kiss, pulling away softly, afraid he would not control himself and make love to her right here and there. He was pleased to see no trace of anger or sadness left on her flushed face. Both of them were breathing heavily. Their lips were swollen.

She was about to speak but he shut her up by applying a finger on her lips.

“Shush. You talk too much. Listen. Donʼt interrupt me. Please. Letʼs sit down.” He took her by the hand and they sat down on the grass.

“I donʼt know what you heard but Iʼm sure it is a bunch of crap. Here is the truth. My truth. Listen to it and then decide what you wanna believe.” He took a cigarette and lit it up, ignoring her annoyed expression. He carried on.

“Yes, I was in rehab. Yes, I do have an alcohol problem. Yes, I smoke pot. But Iʼm working on cleaning myself up. Yes, I did party a lot in the past and did pretty much every single drug there is. It would be too long to explain why. Maybe one day. As you know, my sister passed away. I was with her and she died in my arms. I watched her die and was unable to do anything to help her. “ His voice broke down.

“Of Terry, I know how you feel. I…”

“Please let me finish. Since her passing, Iʼve been confused. I donʼt know what to do with my life. I want to live for the both of us, do something meaningful but I donʼt know where to start. I donʼt even know how to act in a normal way. Like with you right now. Iʼm afraid Iʼll scare you away but I also want you to hear the truth from me and not from some stupid asshole gossiping about things he does not know shit about. Thatʼs how much I like you. Which sounds crazy considering I barely know you. I canʼt explain why or how but I just do.” He took a final drag from his cigarette and grabbed a new one from his pack, which he was about to lit up when Candy took it off his hand.

“If you really cared about me you would start by putting this cigarette away! How many times do I have to tell you not to pollute my hill!” She said, breaking the cigarette in half and throwing it away.

“So I opened my heart to you and thatʼs all you have to say? Complain about my smoking?”

“Of course not… Itʼs just that…. I was not expecting this…. Iʼm sorry… And please stop kissing me every time you see me. It makes me uneasy.”

“Iʼm sorry you feel this way about my kisses, especially considering how much I enjoy kissing you. I wonʼt do it ever again if you dislike it so much. I just did not know what else to do. I did not want you to leave mad at me.”

“And you thought kissing me even though I had already ask you not to would help?”

“It did, didnʼt it?” He asked, a smile forming in the corner of his mouth.

Candy became red with embarrassment.

“Well…. Maybe…. But Iʼm afraid Iʼm not ready for that…. I….“ She seemed troubled, looking for words she did not seem to find. “I just donʼt think….”

“Come on, stop looking for excuses and admit it: you wanted it as much as I did. I missed you.” He took her hand in his and slowly rubbed her thumb.

“I missed you too. I was really worried.” She admitted while looking at her watch. “Oops. I have to go.” She said, removing her hand from his and shooting up to her feet. “Iʼll see you around!”

She was a few meters away when she stopped and turned around:

“Please clean yourself up. You can do it. And remember, you owe me a date!” She said with a mischievous smile, sticking her tongue at him. “If you want to talk, call me. Any time.” And without giving him a chance to answer, she resumed her mad run toward the main building.

That Candy was something else. When she was around him, he felt like everything was possible and the world was open to him. She was like a drug. She gave the world a new look when she was near him. She made everything more vibrant and more appealing. He reached an epiphany: he would replace any mood altering substances by a dose of Candy! She would become his new drug. He was already addicted to the taste of her lips. Now the question that remained was whether or not she would agree to be his girlfriend. He had admitted he liked her but she had not answered anything….

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 9

 


Saint-Paul Academy – March 11th, 1994




Terry was lying on his bed, staring at the light bulb hanging on the ceiling, waiting for a dream to come and get him out of here. It was 8:30pm so the chances sleep would come were pretty slim, despite the fact that he was dead tired from all the extra work he had to furnish to catch up with his studies. His father had hired a private tutor to make sure he would study after school in order to remain at the top of his class. Terry was always busy, studying or going to Polo practice. Days were long and boring. He had not had a chance to see Candy again. Which was just as well for he was not really in the mood to see anybody, even her.

Following his meeting with Candy on the hill, he had gone back to his bedroom and listened to all his other phone messages. Several had been from his mother, begging him to come to LA to attend the Oscars ceremony with her on March 21st , which was the last thing he wanted to do. One message had intrigued him immensely: it had been from Drew Barrymore who had been the closest thing Mia had to a friend:

“Hey Terry, Drew here. I was hoping you’d pick up the phone. I wanted to talk to you but you left LA too fast. I’m so sorry you have no idea. Mia was a great friend and she’ll be terribly missed. I wanted to call you earlier but had to rush out of town for a movie and forgot my address book. Anyhow… Listen, I know this will sound overly dramatic, not to mention a bit creepy but Mia left a letter for you with me. Don’t ask why. I have no clue. A few months ago, she handed me a letter with your name on it, making me swear – and spit on my living room carpet, you know her! – that I’ll get it to you should anything happen to her. I remember laughing about it, she sounded so serious. I asked if it was her will and if I was in it… Gosh she was so fun to be around…. “ There was a long pause before Drew’s voice resumed. “Anyhow, Stacy will FedEx it to you on Monday so you should get it by Tuesday. Let me know if there is anything about me! Seriously, call me if you need to talk. I’m thinking about you and you Mom often. I saw her a few weeks ago and she looked awful. How are you holding up? Must be horribly hard, you guys were so close… Well, let me know if there is anything I can do. Talk to you later. Bye.”

Terry had rushed to the main office to get his mail and sure enough, a FedEx envelope had been among it. The walk back to his room had seemed to last an eternity. He felt like the envelope was burning his fingers. He was dying to read it and had a hard time resisting the urge to tear it open and start reading in the hallways. Why would Mia have taken such a step? Did she know her addiction had gone too far? Was the overdose not an accident but a suicide? That very idea made Terry sick and angry. He wanted Mia in front of him, kick her in the ass and ask her what the hell had she done? They all had been aware of her addiction but Terry had always guessed she was like him, not really addicted to anything, simply experimenting and trying to make her life more bearable and having fun.

When he had finally reached his room, he had locked himself in and sat on the edge of his bed, opening the envelope with a trembling hand, careful not to damage its content. He had felt his heart twinge at the vision of Mia’s fluid handwriting and the faint smell of the Jean-Paul Gaultier perfume that had been her last signature scent.

November 8, 1993

Dearest Terry,

I just hung up the phone with you. As always, it was a wonderful treat to hear your voice. I can’t wait to see you for Christmas!!! I miss you so much, you have no idea. You truly are my better half and I love you.

I have no idea when/if you’ll read this. I’m gonna leave it with Drew to give you in case anything should happen to me.

Why all the drama? I don’t know… I’m not planning on dying anytime soon but one never knows. I’ve been engaging in some risky behavior and I just want to leave something special for you.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I cannot believe that I’m 16 (well, almost 17) and already so jaded about life. I’ve tried just about every single drug there is and have been using a few on a regular basis! This is really sad. This has to stop. I don’t like what I am becoming. So I decided to clean up my shit. And I’m gonna do on my own terms. I don’t have the energy to go through a 12 steps program, and see yet another shrink. I’m done having my head examined and being prescribed pills. I’m done talking about my childhood, our parents, you, my feelings, my life. I know I have a problem and I will fix it.

No more blow and pot for me. I’ll probably have a hard time with the Valium Mom is always so prompt to give me but well, that’s a start. Of course, I’m not expecting this to be easy but I feel it is now or never! I don’t have anything to do till Spring so that should be plenty of time. I know it may be hard, even impossible, to stay clean once I resume modeling but I’ll really do my best. You probably do not realize it but I’m pretty much out of control. Since I saw you this summer, it has gotten worst. I get terrible anxiety and only pot can quell it. Mom always aggravates me, pressuring me to do this or that, act this way, dress that way, come to this party, go to that one, smile for the paparazzi. I just hate this celebrity crap. I want to be left alone. I’d love to go shopping with Mom, or out to lunch, without our picture ending up in People you know.

I have trouble sleeping without a Valium, which I have the habit of washing down with a beer. I should probably stop drinking as well but I’m gonna do this one step at a time. I’m not even going to worry about the daily pack of cigarettes. All in due time. Would you believe that to wake up in the morning, I do a line of coke, and another one around lunch time to keep me going. And you know what is the saddest part of it all? I don’t feel alive unless I’m on some sort of drugs. When I don’t take anything, I’m just empty. I know you have the same problem with alcohol and I truly think the easiest way for us to get out of it all would be to live together. Every time you are around, I feel so much better. I can’t wait to move to NYC with you! I hate LA and really want to leave. This city is not good for me, too much crap is going on. I spoke to Jeff and he agreed to take me in but of course Mom won’t let me. She wants me with her. Like I’m her doll for her to use as she pleases. I’m considering hiring a lawyer (Jeff offered to pay) to get emancipated… Maybe you could do it too and we could be in NYC by Summer! We’ll definitively talk about it at Christmas!

Anyhow bro, life is too short to fuck it up the way I’ve been doing it. I want to be happy, live a normal life, meet a guy, have a family, a dog, a white picket fenced house, I want it all. But to achieve this, I need to leave this fucking town. There are too many drugs around, too easily available and I cannot say no. I know, I’m pathetic but I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t know any better. I need a radical change. Kurt and I were always talking about going somewhere like Montana, get a farm, some animals and just chill, go with the flow, and stop pretending.

I know it is a bit early for New Year resolutions but I resolve to stay clean, do more volunteer work to keep myself busy, and most of all avoid parties.

But should I be unsuccessful and should anything happen to me, I want you to know that my last thought was for you. I’m sorry I won’t be around to share whatever life has in store for you but I’m sure it will be something great. Please be safe. Get your ass in line and get on with the program. I have more hope for you than I have for me. Find a girl. Really. Let your guards down and let someone love you. Being loved is an amazing feeling, the emotional part is a million times stronger than the sexual part of it. I’ll be forever grateful to Kurt for showing me what it was like. Even if I hate him right now and given a gun I would blow his fucking brain without a hesitation, I only have beautiful memories of him. I know you won’t believe it but when we were together, we did not spend our time doing drugs. Really. We just did normal stuff. Speaking of which… Here is a confession I did not have the guts to make over the phone: I saw him at Jeff’s Labor Day BBQ. He popped by. I had not seen him for over a year, avoiding him purposely all this time and there he was, walking in the fucking party. And there I was, staring at him as if no one else was in the room. We did not even talked. He took my hand and we had sex like crazies in the basement. No talk, no fight. Just sex. I regretted it immediately thereafter and had kind of a meltdown. He was very sweet about it, which only made it worst. I ended up screaming at him, hitting him and telling him to leave me alone. I just could not bear thinking he would go back home to his wife and kid. The very idea was odious to me. Six weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I took a home-pregnancy test and screamed. Shannon (Mom’s latest boy toy you have yet to meet) was home and came rushing to my room. I was in shock and told him everything. I begged him to come with me get an abortion. Shannon wanted to go kick Kurt’s ass, he was so much against the abortion, he offered to marry me and raise the baby as his own. Man, that was so fucking cute. He barely knew me and offered to take care of me. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. Maybe I should have said yes. But Mom… She would have had a nervous breakdown: her precious daughter going through a teen pregnancy, her ex fathering the baby and her current boyfriend raising it! Can you imagine? I just could not put her through that. She may drive me crazy but I do love her. When we are home alone and she is not pretending, just being herself, we are having the best time. Of course those moments are rare but when they do happen, they are precious.

So I went and had the abortion. Funny thing is that I did not feel any regrets or remorse as it was happening… It felt like the right thing, the only thing really, to do. Shannon was there, holding my hand, crying. When it was done, he took me back home and we got wasted…. Then I got sick. Mom got back home that evening and boy was she pissed to find me half naked in bed with Shannon who had insisted on staying with me to make sure I was Ok and did not bleed to death. She started screaming, accusing me of seducing all of her boyfriends, etc, etc, her usual crap. Then she went off on a lecture about how I should hang out with kids my own age, that older people had a bad influence on me. I asked her if she was including herself in the older people who were a bad influence. I was joking, trying to lighten up the situation but she got really mad. Gosh, she really does not know me. I do not let anybody influence me, I’m making my own choices, poor ones I must admit, but they are all mine. Everything that ever happened to me was my own doing. I know Dad blames Mom for it all but she has nothing to do with it. Had I been leaving with him, it would have been the same. There is something in me that just want to go down that tortured path. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a black cloud surrounding me, like a black aura. It has been happening a lot more lately. Maybe because of the abortion. I denied the right to live to another human being. Does that make me a monster? But having the baby given my circumstances would have been far more monstrous no? I’m so confused. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel I’m doomed. I know it sounds crazy but that’s how I feel. That’s why I had to write this letter, because I may not be around for much longer.

So now you know all my dirty little secrets. I hope you can learn from my mistakes. Don’t let life pass you by. Enjoy every minute of it. We all have a dark side, we just need to learn to live with it. We cannot let it take over. You’re handsome, smart, you can do better in life than becoming a hopeless drunk. Screw your step-mom, she is mean bitch. Screw Dad, he’s a stuck-up pig. Screw Mom, she is a manipulative witch. And please stop going to those raves! The music is shit and ecstasy is a fucking chemical that will poison you. Your life will be whatever you make of it so don’t be an idiot. If I can see I need to make some changes, you can too! Don’t put it off much longer. We are not invincible, young people die too.

So this is it my darling bro. Don’t be sad. I’ll miss you. But wherever I am now, I’m much better off. I’ll watch over you.

With all my love forever,

Mia

He had read the letter over and over. He had cried more than he ever thought was humanly possible to cry while reading his sister’s last words to him. His tears had stained the paper. His furor toward his mother had reached a new peak and he had called her in a fit of rage, telling her not to call him ever again, that he did not have a mother anymore.

He sat up, grabbed the magazine with his mother on the cover and started to draw a mustache, black teeth, a swastika on her forehead and devil’s horns. He wrote “I HATE YOU BITCH” across her smiling face.

The radio was on and he heard news that Kurt Cobain had just been released from a Roman hospital following a 5 days stay to recover from an overdose of champagne and prescription medication.

“So he got away with it… There really is no God… “ Terry thought bitterly.

He had a splitting headache and felt miserable. While he was in rehab, his secret hiding spot had been discovered and closed off. All medication, even the most benign, had been removed from his room courtesy of his father. So he decided to go to the infirmary ask for an aspirin before the pain drove him to madness.

The nurse gave him an aspirin after looking suspiciously at him for a few minutes. Terry swallowed it dry, stopped by the cafeteria to get some crackers and slowly went back to his room. He opened the door and had the surprise of his life: Candy was standing by his desk, her golden hair basking in the moonlight.

“Candy?”

She looked up, startled. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was holding Mia’s letter in her hand.

“Terry…”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, giving her a menacing look. He could not believe what was happening.

“ Euh… I….” She started, putting the letter back on the desk, making the marked-up magazine fall from it in the process.

Terry picked it up. He ripped the cover off and tore it up into small pieces carefully, watching them fall on the carpet like confetti. Candy seemed to be glued to the spot. She was looking at him with the eyes of a deer caught in headlights.

“I got into your room by a mistake, I’m so sorry. I thought it was my cousin’s room.” She finally babbled.

Terry was furious. He felt betrayed, violated. He grabbed her shoulders.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone what you read. You’ll be very sorry if you do. Understood?”

He looked at her deeply. She was as white as a ghost. He realized how scared she was and gently pushed her aside, walking away from her.

“Terry… I’m sorry… I did not mean to snoop. It was on the floor and I instinctively picked it up. I meant to put it back on the desk but a word attracted my eyes and I could not help but read….” Her voice broke into tears.

“Go away!” Shouted Terry without looking at her.

“Terry,” she pleaded. “Please forgive me. I won’t tell anybody. I promise. I…”

“ Just get the fuck out!” Terry exploded.

Candy went to the balcony and disappeared.

Terry was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

“What was I thinking? Leaving something like that laying around…. Of course anyone walking into my room would have looked at it….. Candy…. I’m sorry… I had no right to be angry with you. You did the human thing to do. I sure would have done the same. I’m such a bloody idiot. Why did I have to get so mad? Why can’t I control my emotions? I really hate myself. “ He was angrily punching his pillow. “Candy… Ever since we met… I have this feeling inside of me every time I think about you…. Your kindness is giving me hope in life… But of course I had to screw everything up…” He stood up and swiped the desk clean in one angry motion.

His headache was still there, worst than ever. He felt like his head was about to explode. He decided to take a warm shower but it did not help. It was close to 10pm. Not knowing what else to do, he put his riding clothes on and ran to the stables.

**************

Terry was riding in the park surrounding the school, not caring to get caught, deeply lost into gloomy thoughts.

“This is all my fault. Candy found this letter because Mia is gone. Mia is gone because I let her die. Why did I call her? What did I expect her to do? I should have known she would think about herself first. Damn it, I could have saved her if only I had called for help as soon as I walked in. And now she is expecting me to be there for her? I’d rather die! She may rot in hell for all I care.”

He was replaying in his head over and over the scene of Mia’s death, the very same one that had been haunting his nights.

He was kneeling by his sister and was touching her face. She was cold.

“Mia? Can you hear me? Mia?” Panic in his voice.

No answer. The seizures had stopped and she was still.

“Mom!” He had screamed again at the top of his lungs.

But Eleanor had been nowhere in sight. He had reached for the phone that was on the bedside table and had dialed 911 with a shaky hand.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The calmness in the operator’s voice had mellowed him out.

“My sister. Come quick. I think she overdosed.”

“Calm down. Are you at 609 North Canon Drive?”

“Yes. Come quick please. I think she is dying.”

“ Is she conscious?”

“No. I think I can feel her breathing but I’m not sure, it is very faint. Please come.”

Eleanor had walked in the room then.

“Mia! What on earth?” she said, kneeling on the floor, and checking on Mia.

“Help is on his way. How old is she?” continued the 911 operator.

“Oh shit! Mia!” Scream from Eleanor.

“16.” Terry continued, desperate to get the paramedics here as soon as possible.

“Who are you talking to?” asked Eleanor, taking the phone off his hands and hanging up.

“Mom!! I called 911!”

“Are you crazy? I cannot afford that kind of publicity right now? Do you want the press to have a field day with this and trash her memory? It’s too late for help Terry, she is gone,” she said coldly, picking up the phone and starting to dial her PR girl. Terry unplugged the phone from the wall.

“You fucking lying bitch!” screamed Terry. ”She is fucking dying and all you think about is your fucking career!!! It destroyed your marriage to Dad and it is killing my sister and you don’t even care? What kind of a monster are you? “

Eleanor looked at her son intently, her deep blue eyes a tiny slit full of anger.

“My fucking career as you call it has nothing to do with the poor choices your sister made. My career did not ask her to do drugs the crazy way she did. You cannot blame her addiction on to me. I did not force her to do it. She did it to herself. It was her god damn choice to hang out with druggies, no mine.” While talking, she was picking up some of the mess, shoving drug paraphernalia and empty beer bottles under the bed. She picked up a t-shirt and proceeded to put it on Mia. “Give me a pair of jeans, quick.”

“I cannot believe this! She is a kid Mom, your Kid! You’re the one who exposed her to this fucked up environment and let her fend for herself!! You never cared about her! You did not even care when your bloody boyfriends would screw her when they were sick of you! You’re a selfish bitch, Dad is right, and you are totally depraved. I hate you!” Terry was enraged.

“Look who’s talking! Since when did you become Mr. “I’m so virtuous I’m above any reproach?” Eleanor was standing in front of him, red with anger, momentarily forgetting about dressing her daughter.

“Fuck you! Give me the god damn phone now.”

A siren screaming in the night was heard coming from their driveway and the arrival of the paramedics cut short their dispute. Eleanor quickly recomposed herself, gave the room a quick look and dashed downstairs to greet them, leaving Terry with Mia who was unresponsive to his pleas. He was cradling her face in his hands, frantically talking to her:

“Hold on Mia… Help is here…. You’ll be fine… Hold on beautiful… You can do this….Please hold on a bit longer… Please… Don’t leave me… Don’t you dare fucking dying on me…. ”

When the two paramedics walked in and checked on her, Mia was in full cardiac arrest. They began to administer CPR, to no avail. They rushed her to CedarsSinaiMedicalCenter where she was pronounced dead on arrival. An autopsy was performed and concluded she died of a massive drug overdose. It was presumed she had mistakenly snorted heroin, thinking it was cocaine. Eleanor’s PR machine was in full throttle, feeding the press a cooked up story about some congenital heart disease.

If only had she pretended to care. But she really did not. All she cared about was her stupid career. She had always been this way. Terry was convinced she should have left Mia with Richard. Growing up together, they would have stood a better chance to turn out OK and presented a united front against dear Vivian…. His thoughts drifted to his father’s house and his last encounter with Vivian, the day he was flying out to Los Angeles. He was going down the stairs, the rest of the family was in the living room. Trevor was waiting to take him to the airport.

“Well, good bye every one. Vivian, I’ll transmit your regards to Mom and Dad I’ll give a hug to Mia for you.” He had said sarcastically.

Vivian shot him a furious look and complained to his father:

“This boy has the gift to get on my nerves. He is saying this on purpose to mock me. I don’t want to see him anymore! Can’t he just stay over there?”

“Yeah, go ahead, keep talking as if I weren’t even there, you stupid cow. For your information, I don’t want to see you anymore than you do!” Answered Terry before his father had the time to say anything.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about! He has absolutely no respect.”

“Terry, apologize to Vivian immediately.”

“Apologizing? Not in this lifetime! I got to go, you guys would not want me to miss my plane, would you? Let’s roll Trevor. Happy Holidays people!”

How much he hated them all, their stupid rules, their stuck-up behavior, their hypocrisy.

He was riding by the girl’s dorm on his way back to the stables when he heard a cry in the night:

“Anthony, get off this horse! Anthony! Stop!”

Terry looked up and saw Candy running out of her dorm, storming down the stairs, tripping on the last one and landing on the grass.

“No!!!!” She screamed.

Terry got off his horse and ran to her. She was unconscious.

“Candy! Candy, answer me!” He became frantic. What if she had broken her neck. He slowly picked her up and proceeded to run to the infirmary. He was holding her strongly in his arms. Candy moved her head and said softly:

“Anthony…. Anthony...”

Terry was wondering who that Anthony was? The guy from the picture? He reached the infirmary door and knocked. The night nurse opened the door.

“Oh! What happened?”

“I don’t know. I found her down the stairs.”

“I have to go get Mother Grey. Please lay her down on the examination table.” She said, rushing out.

“Anthony,” Candy said again, her voice breaking into sobs, tears falling heavily on her cheeks.

Terry touched her tears lightly with his fingers.

“Anthony? Who the hell is Anthony and why is she crying while calling his name?” He leaned down and softly kissed off her tears.

“Don’t cry Freckles. Everything will be alright.”

Not wanting to have to answer to Mother Grey as to his presence outside at that time of night, he ran out. He hid in the bushes and was relieved to see an half hour later the nurse walking Candy back to her room.

“She’s OK. But she must have been quite upset to faint like this. Anthony, who are you and what did you do to her?”

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 10

 


Saint-Paul Academy – March 21st, 1994

Terry was sitting at his piano, something he had found himself doing quite often lately, a cigarette in his mouth, playing a melancholic little melody that had popped into his mind on one of his sleepless night. He was toying with the idea of putting lyrics to it, just for fun. But song writing had never been his forte –Mia had been the talented one at it- and he doubted he would ever be able to come up with something that matched the tune. So for now, he was content playing the song over and over, much to the dismay of his neighbor, Archibald Cornwell, who had come knocking on his door to complain about the noise several times. Complaints that Terry ignored.

Ever since he had come back from Antigua, he had been playing the piano daily. He had also resumed playing with the school band, something he used to love but had stopped doing for over two years.

For some reason, when he was playing, he felt Miaʼs presence very strongly. It was a strange feeling he would have been unable to explain but when he was at the piano, he felt like she was sitting next to him.

After reading her letter a thousand times, he had come to realize that she had been right. He did not know how he got this way but he knew it was not alright so he was going to break every single one of his bad habits. It was time to get his life back on track, for himself, but also as a way to honor his sisterʼs memory. He will succeed where she had failed. He will live for the two of them. He was going to use this horrible experience he had to go through as a way to enrich and intensify his own life. He would not let memories consume him and pick him apart. He now knew what was worth fighting for.

He had resumed seeing Kyle, with whom he had an excellent relationship and felt comfortable enough with to confide in about just anything. There still were times where he was really desperate for some alcohol, especially at night, when he had trouble sleeping, but overall he felt his situation was greatly improving.

He had distanced himself from Candy, at Kyleʼs suggestion, taking great pain to avoid her. She had left a message on his answering machine, expressing regrets at not being able to talk to him face-to-face, apologizing again for intruding his private space and to thank him profusely for taking her to the infirmary. She had asked for him to call her back but he never did. He felt he should spend time alone to sort things out in his mind. Seeing her as his saving grace had been a very unhealthy thing to consider. She was a kid and he had no right to put the burden of helping him conquer his demons on her frail shoulders. Especially when it seemed now obvious she had troubles of her own.

It was 6.a.m. He had been up most of the night, watching the live telecast of the Oscars. His mother had been there, with a nervous looking Jeff. She was wearing a barely there red chiffon dress with an incredibly low décolletage, exposing a lot of porcelain white skin. She was not wearing any jewelry. Her long blond hair was loose and kind of messy, giving her a “just out of bed” look. She was wearing some spooky red eye make up. Terry thought she looked like the bride of Dracula.

Ironically, she was a presenter for “best make up” award and staggered on stage rather than she walked, holding on to her co-presenter Liam Neeson for support, obviously quite imbibed barely an half hour into the ceremony. She seemed confused, and had trouble reading her lines from the teleprompter. She was definitively on something and not acting in her usual carefully planned way. Terry was curious to see what would happen when the Best Actress category would be called. She had been coveting this award for as long as Terry could remember. She had seen it as the ultimate achievement of her acting career and sacrificed everything for it, her daughter being the biggest sacrifice of all.

Turned out Holly Hunter won. When Eleanorʼs face was shown after the winner was announced, you could see her crumbling. She was a sore loser and too wasted to make any effort to hide it. Terry, very pleased by the results, turned the TV off with a satisfied smile. He did not feel an ounce of sympathy for Eleanor.

***********

He was coming back from Polo practice when he heard his name being called:

“Terry! Wait!” It was Candy, waving madly at him, and rushing toward him.

Not wanting to talk to her, Terry pretended he did not see her and ran into the park, oblivious to Candyʼs cries:

“No! Wait!!! Please! ”

He did not dare to look back but he was convinced she was after him. He ran faster, deeper into the park surrounding the school. Out of breath, with a side ache killing him, he ran off the path and hid in the bushes. A few minutes later, Candy came running by.

He was about to get out of his hiding spot when he heard voices. He carefully looked through the foliage: Neil Reagan and his two loser friends were running up the path, obviously following Candy.

“Great! I donʼt think she noticed us. Looks like she is going to her usual spot. Now we can finish what we started. Come on!” Neil Reagan was telling his cronies. He was all excited, a smile full of lascivious expectations brightening his menacing look. He reminded Terry of a wolf getting ready to jump on a prey. The prey was of course Candy. That very thought sends chills down Terryʼs spine.

“Weʼre going to have a lot of fun,” said his portly looking friend, laughing stupidly.

“Neil!!” Terry screamed, stepping out and blocking the trioʼs path.

“Terry!” Neil squeaked, instinctively backing out, hands stretched out.

“Where exactly do you think you are going? It is ungentlemanly to follow a young woman in a deserted area. Stay away from Candy!”

“This doesnʼt concern you Grandchester. Why do you care so much about Candy? You want a piece of the action? Well, too bad, she is not for you. Now get out of the way!” Shouted Neil, showing a sudden bravado, most likely due to the fact that his two friends were surrounding Terry and would be the first ones to get hit should a fight ensue.

“Over my dead body!!”

“Why donʼt you go deal with your whore of a mother? Maybe send her to this rehab center you went through. She looked loaded last night. But I must say she has a body I would not mind getting my hands on. Definitively belongs to the mothers Iʼd like to fuck category. And from what I heard she likes them young. Do you think you could introduce me?” Neil said mockingly.

“Shut the fuck up you little piece of shit. Take your body guards and get the fuck away!””

“ Or what? Come on guys, grab him.”

The other two grabbed a hold of Terryʼs arms.

“Now Grandchester, Iʼm going to punch you till you pass out. Then Iʼll go get Candy and will show her some lovinʼ. Then Iʼll go back to my room and fantasize about what I could do to your mother.”

As Neil was about to punch him, Terry lifted himself up using Neilʼs friends for support and kicked Neil in the face, regretting not to be wearing his metal toes Doc Martens. Neil went flying back and landed on the ground. Surprised, the other two let go of Terry who proceeded in punching them madly. Neilʼs words had incensed him beyond reason and he felt enraged. The tree teens quickly proceeded to retreat.

“Come on, fight, whatʼs the matter with you?!!” Terry screamed in a fury.

“Youʼll pay for this!!” Shouted Neil, wiping with his sleeve the blood that was gushing from his mouth.

The trio ran away, Terry resisting the urge to follow them and finish them off. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to empty his head of all the unpleasant images Neilʼs crude words had created. The very thought of Neil touching Candy made him want to vomit. That guy was a creep. He was going to have to warn Candy about him again. She did not seem quite aware of how disturbed that guy was. Neil touching Eleanor was also a sickening thought. It was the first time ever he felt protective of his mother. No matter how much he claimed to hate her, the idea of Neil Reagan lusting after her was unbearable.

He was about to go back to his room when he heard footsteps coming from the area Candy had run to. Terry quickly ran back to the bushes, forgetting to pick up the Polo jersey he had been wearing tied up around his waist that had fallen during the fight. It was a bright yellow, smack in the middle of the path, with his name emblazoned on the back. There was no way Candy could miss it. And sure enough, she picked it up.

“Ah, his Polo shirt. I knew he had to be around here,” she said aloud, looking around. “Terry?”

Terry laid closer down behind the brush, hoping she would not come near. His heart was beating fast and loud. He was convinced she would hear it if she stepped close by.

“Terry, I know you are around. Please come out. I want to thank you. Please. Why are you avoiding me? I know you are mad at me for what I did and I canʼt blame you. I know itʼs terribly wrong. I should not have done it but I did and Iʼm so sorry. Please come out. “

She was getting dangerously close to him when a noise was heard. Somebody else was coming. Candy promptly backed up and ran away toward the school building, singing at the top of her lungs:

“ I didnʼt mean to hurt you. Iʼm sorry that I made you mad. I didnʼt want to hurt you. Iʼm just a stupid girl.”

Terry breathed a sight of relief. Then he cracked up laughing.

“Freckles! It is a very creative interpretation of Jealous Guy, but Iʼm sure John Lennon is rolling in his grave! That girl absolutely cannot sing! She really is something else.” He came out of his hiding spot and proceeded to follow Candy from a safe distance.

“Terrence!”

Terry turned around and saw Elisa Reagan coming out from behind him, deep down the bushy area. She must have made the noise that scared Candy away.

“Elisa,” Said Terry curtly, resuming his walk. Elisa had been after him since the very first day of school.

“Do you mind if I walk back with you. This park is a bit scary for a girl alone.” She said in a husky tone, batting her eyelashes in what she was without a doubt hoping to be a seductive move but that came out as completely ridiculous.

“Please, donʼt tell me you were there alone. What happened to the poor sod you met for a quickie in the bushes?”

Elisa looked at him furiously.

“How dare you? Who do you think I am?”

“I donʼt waste my time thinking anything about you. It is just a known fact that you are the schoolʼs slut.“

“Well, better be the schoolʼs slut than the schoolʼs drunk!”

“Well, if it makes you happy, good for you. Now excuse me but I have to run.”

“Terence Grandchester, you are a thoughtless inbreed! Youʼll pay for that!”

Terry kept on going, ignoring her angry screams. Meeting with the two Reagan siblings in less than an hour was more than he could take.

“Damn it, I need a drink!” He thought as he reached the boys dormitory, wondering if he could score a beer from one of the other boys.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 11


Saint-Paul Academy - April 9th, 1994

Days were going by quickly and in about 3 weeks, the annual May Festival would take place. It was a Saint-Paul’s tradition, designated to celebrate Spring and the upcoming final exams. Families were encouraged to attend. All the female students born in May were named May Flower Princesses and would parade throughout the school perched on colorful charts, covered with live roses, orchids and lilies. The day long festivities would start with a Polo game, followed by a soccer game. The drama club, which his father had strictly forbidden Terry to join, would do a play. In the evening, there would be dancing. The school band would perform a small concert. Terry was expected to play the piano but he had yet to submit the piece he would be playing, which he still had not decided on, for approval by the festival committee.

Terry had not attended the event for the past two years and was actually looking forward to it. He was planning on asking Candy to be his date for the evening dance. He still had not talked to her and had taken great pain in avoiding her. He had meant to give her a call several times but never did. Not that he did not want to see or talk to her, quite the contrary but he felt overwhelmed by what he was feeling every time he thought about her. He felt he had no control over his emotions whenever she was involved. He had never felt this way before and it was scaring him.

In preparation for the festival game, polo practice was going full speed. Even though it was Saturday, Terry was expected on the field by 7 a.m.

The alarm clock woke him up at 6 a.m. The DJ was wishing everyone a good day and doing the weather: cool and drizzly. Terry opened a lazy eye and looked at the red digital display: 6:02. He stretched languorously, pulling the comforter tighter around his body still warm from sleep. He slowly sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, bending and stretching his neck, vaguely listening to the DJ’s lame weather related jokes. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. He had dropped his lighter and was reaching to retrieve it when the DJ’s tone switched from silly to grave as he announced:

“Today is a day of mourning for many youngsters worldwide, and the music industry in general. Kurt Cobain, the lead-singer of the American grunge rock band Nirvana, has been found dead in his Seattle home. The 27-year-old rock star had a single gunshot wound to the head. A gun and suicide note were found nearby.

It appeared he had been dead for at least 34 hours when his body was discovered by an electrician who was carrying out repairs at the musician's house. Mr. Cobain's mother, Wendy O'Connor, said she had not heard from him for six days.

The troubled singer, whose band achieved global fame with the release of its album Nevermind in 1991, survived a drug and alcohol-induced coma in Rome last month.

A statement from Nirvana's management company, Gold Mountain Entertainment, said: "We are deeply saddened by the loss of such a talented artist, close friend, loving husband and father."

Mr. Cobain was married to the lead singer of the band Hole, Courtney Love. The couple had a daughter, Frances Bean, 18 months ago. Rumor has it he had rekindled a love affair with American actress Eleanor Baker after the loss of her daughter in December. Coincidently, Mia Baker had appeared in Nirvana’s Smells like Teen Spirit music video, the band breakthrough single from the album Nevermind.

The three-piece group from Aberdeen in WashingtonState was due to arrive in Britain next week on the next leg of their European tour.

Nirvana is widely acknowledged to be the leading pioneer of the Seattle-based grunge movement, combining a violent rock sound with lyrics expressing vulnerability and anguish.

Eight million copies of their hit Smells Like Teen Spirit have been sold worldwide. The band's latest album, In Utero, released last year, was also a great success.

American music journalist Jeff Gilbert said Mr. Cobain had been depressed by bass player Chris Novoselic's recent announcement that he wanted to leave the band.

Nirvana's frontman joins a long litany of rock stars - including Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin - who have died young.” [1]

The news took Terry by surprise but he was also strangely relieved by it. First because his mother would not get her way after all but most and foremost because he felt that Mia was not alone anymore. It had been his constant source of torment, that Mia was alone and scared. He had felt Mia’s spirit around him since her passing. He knew it sounded crazy and it was something he had not dared discuss with anyone but he always felt Mia’s haunting presence, especially at night. He could not explain how but he knew she was terrified and sad. It occurred to him that he had not “feel” her for a few days, not even when he had played piano, which was usually when her presence was the strongest. He remained convinced that with no one left to judge them, the two would find their way back together. Unable to share a life together, they would share eternity. For no matter how much he had disliked Kurt in the end, he knew that Mia had adored him and been fully happy during their brief time together. So the idea of the two of them joined in death was strangely soothing and brought him a sense of closure hours of grief counseling had failed to achieve. For the first time, he was able to think about his sister without breaking down in tears or feeling angry.

He lit up a cigarette, took a long drag and slowly blew out the smoke. He watched it drift up toward the window, fading into the early sunrays coming through the velvet curtains.

“Good bye Kurt. Better take good care of her this time around.”

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and went to the bathroom. He came out a half hour later, his hair still damp, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He put on a pair of clean boxers, and was reaching for his Polo outfit when the phone rang.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided not to pick it up and went on getting dressed. He was putting his shirt on when the answering machine clicked on and his own voice resounded in the room:

“ Hi this is Terry, please leave a message.”

“Terry, it’s Jeff. Are you there? Terry, please pick up.”

Knowing he would regret it, Terry nevertheless walked to the desk and picked up the phone.

“Hey Jeff,” he said, his voice flat.

“Terry. Sorry to call so early. How are you? Did I wake you up?”

“No. I was about to leave for polo practice. I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Did you hear about Kurt?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did Eleanor call you by any chance?”

“No. I heard it on the radio. Why would she have called me? I’ve not heard from her in months!” Terry said, annoyed that once again, it was all going to be about his mother.

“Well… She is missing… I was hoping she would have called you.”

“What do you mean, missing?”

“They found Kurt’s body yesterday morning. We found out around noon. There were police cars going up and down the street, lot of commotion in the neighborhood so we walked outside to see what was going on. When we saw it was all coming from Kurt and Courtney’s, we rushed there. For all we knew, they were out of town and we thought there had been a robbery or something. As we got closer, we saw the cops had set up yellow tape to block the greenhouse entry. Your Mom dashed there and started demanding what was going on. The medical examiner came in and your Mom became hysterical. She pushed the cop who was blocking the staircase and ran up the stairs. The cop and I chased after her, the cop summoning her to stop, that he was going to arrest her for infracting a potential crime scene but she did not listen: she pushed the door open and screamed. When we reached her, she seemed frozen to the spot. Three cops already in the room were preventing her from getting inside but I don’t even think she would have. The cop that was with me grabbed her but she pushed him, screaming madly at him not to touch her. She then pushed me aside and stormed down, talking incoherently to herself. Before following her, I gave a quick look inside and saw Kurt, laying on the ground, a shotgun by his side. By the time I was down the stairs, your Mom was out of my sight. I ran back and could see her already at our gate, which she opened wide. I called out to her but she did not stop. By the time I reached the gate, she was coming out in her car. I tried to stop her but she would have run me over without giving it a second thought so I had no choice but to remove myself. It was around 1pm yesterday. I’ve not heard anything from her ever since. She has no money, no ID, nothing. The cops won’t search for her just yet. I drove around in vain. I tried calling her car phone but she is not answering. I was hoping she would have tried to get a hold of you.”

Terry rubbed his forehead. She had done it again. Putting herself in the middle of a tragedy and managing somehow to gather some attention for herself.

“Well, she has not. And if I were you, I would not worry too much. She is probably in some fancy hotel, trying to figure out how to gather publicity from this.”

“Terry, listen. This is serious. Your mother has been very disturbed since Mia’s passing. She is in no shape to deal with Kurt’s. I’m afraid she’ll do something crazy.”

“Jeff, I thought you knew her better. Doing crazy shit is what she does best. Relax, she loves herself too much to attempt to kill herself if this is what you are afraid of.”

“For God’s sake Terry! You’ve not seen her in months. She is a broken woman. My worries are very real.”

“Jeff, I like you but you should stop falling into her sick games. And why do you care so much about her anyhow? You guys divorced over 2 years ago, did you not? Why are you still acting like you care about her?”

“Because I do! She has no one else Terry. “

“Well, that’s her own fault, she is pretty good at creating a void around her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. “

“Terry, wait. Please. If she calls you, try to find out where she is and let me know. Please, can you do this for me?”

“Sure thing. Have to run. Bye.” Terry hung up and ran to the door, wondering what kind of shenanigans his mother was up to, not really caring to find out, only hoping she would leave him out of it.

*********

It was 10 am and Terry was on his way from practice to the cafeteria where he was hoping he would find some muffins left over from breakfast. He noticed that a few students were sporting Nirvana’s or Kurt Cobain’s shirts. He saw several girls crying. Kurt Cobain’s death seemed to be the talk of the school. Nirvana had been a very popular band and even though theirs was among the music that was forbidden on the campus, Terry knew many students had a CD hidden under their mattress.

Terry entered the cafeteria where a few students where still having breakfast. Terry helped himself to some tea he poured in a disposable cup, took a blubbery muffin and was on his way out when he heard his name being called:

“Terrence!”

He stopped and turned around. Elisa Reagan was standing in front of him, a wry smile on her lips, wearing heavy black eye make up, cherry red lipstick, a black angora top and an obscenely short black velvet mini skirt. Students were not require to wear their uniforms on the week-ends, especially if they were allowed to go out, but Terry nevertheless wondered how she had not been sent back to her room to change.

“Good morning Terrence. Do you have a minute?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll be quick. I just want to tell you I’m sorry about your Mom… Must be hard for you. If you need a friend, I want you to know I’m here for you. And rest assured it does not affect my opinion of you in any way.“

Terry looked at her bewildered, having absolutely no clue what she was talking about. The few other students present had stopped talking and were looking at them.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You obviously have not heard…. “

“Heard what Elisa?” Terry did not like a bit where this was going. He felt like he was watching a car crash and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Elisa’s expression turned into one of triumph.

“Your mother has been sent to a psychiatric hospital. She attempted to kill herself using a policeman’s gun. She was taken in tied up to a gurney. It is all over TV.”

“Well, thank you for informing me.”

“Anytime Terrence. So how do you feel now? Still like you are better than everybody else?”

“I sure feel better than you. You are pathetic. Does it excite you to try to hurt people in the lowest possible way?”

“It sure does. The look on your face was well worth it. You need to be reminded that even though your father is a Duke, you are not any better than us. Quite the opposite actually considering your sister was a junkie whore and your mom is a nutcase. So by being interested in you despite your questionable background, I’m doing YOU a favor.”

Terry looked at Elisa square in the eye, his eyes dark with anger. He wanted to throw his hot tea on to her face.

“ Don’t you EVER mention my sister, you spoiled American bitch. And if you really want to do me a favor, stay the fuck away from me. ” He snarled, pushing her out of his way and proceeding to run to the park.

**********

He did not know how long he had been lying in the grass, chain smoking. Judging by the number of cigarettes butts, he would have guessed over an hour. He was postponing going back to his room, afraid he would find a message from Jeff on his answering machine. He was tired of hearing about the drama his mother’s always seem to get herself into. He wanted her out of his life, why was it so difficult for everyone to understand?

He was lighting up a new cigarette when Mother Gray’s voice came from behind him.

“What are you doing here Terrence Grandchester?”

Terry, startled, turned around and much to his surprise, saw Candy standing there, laughing her head off.

“It’s you! You scared the hell out of me! For a second, I was sure that it was Mother Grey. You’re pretty good at imitating that old bat.” He said, resuming lighting up his cigarette. “Would you like a puff?” he said, offering her his cigarette.

Candy’s laughter instantly dried out and her face took on a stern expression.

“NO! And do me a favor, stop smoking on MY Pony’s Hill! In fact, just quit smoking altogether! It is not good for you.” She chastised, taking the cigarette out of his hand and squashing it out with her boot.

“Oh! Take it easy Freckles. I was just teasing you. I know you don’t smoke but I really need it right now.” Terry said, taking a fresh cigarette from the pack in his coat’s pocket.

Candy sat down next to him, put a hand on his arm, gave it a small squeeze and said hesitantly:

“You’re upset because of your Mom? I’m so sorry Terry. I’ve been looking for you as soon as I heard. Do you want to talk about it?”

Terry looked at her, the unlit cigarette still in his hand. She was wearing jeans, her brown coat, her hair was up in a messy bun hold together by a yellow pencil, several curls were falling, circling her face. Her green eyes were showing genuine concern. Terry put the cigarette away and gently took a curl that was falling on her eyes and started playing with it.

“No. There is nothing to talk about. But I can use some company.”

He softly ran his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip. That simple act drove Terry to the edge. He leaned closer, his forehead touching hers. She opened her eyes and looked deeply into his. Her hand was still on his arm. He took it and placed it on his heart. He could feel her pulse racing.

“Thank you.” He murmured into her hear. “Thank you for caring.” He kissed her ear lobe and felt her shiver. He pulled away a little and looked at her. Her eyes were closed again, her lips slightly parted. Unable to resist the urge any longer, he took her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, deeply, madly. Candy was responding to his kiss with dexterity, her small hands running through his hair, pushing his head closer to hers to deepen their kiss. He slowly opened her jacket and put one hand around her small waist, lifting her sweater up to feel her skin, while the other was caressing her cheek. He felt her belly contract under his touch and thought it would drive him crazy. She was stroking his hair with one hand, while the other was resting on his chest, her fingers finding their way through the opening of his polo shirt. He desperately wanted to possess her but felt it would be most inappropriate. He reluctantly tore his lips from hers, knowing fully well that his erection was showing and proceeded to pull on his coat in a lame attempt to hide it.

Candy’s eyes followed his gesture and blushed furiously. She suddenly reached inside her own pocket and took something out she handed to Terry.

“This is for you,” she said, looking embarrassed.

“A harmonica?”

“It is my favorite instrument.”

Terry juggled it with his hand.

“ Your favorite, eh? What do you want me to do, play it when I feel like getting a taste of your lips and you’re nowhere in sight?”

“Gosh, Terry! It is to help you quit smoking, or whatever else you are doing! Every time you feel the urge to do something you should not be doing, you can play the harmonica. It is as simple as that.”

“Don’t get cross with me, Candy, it was a joke!! Thank you. It sure sounds easy. I can play it for you if you’d like. I feel like doing something stupid and potentially dangerous right now– kissing you some more- so I should play it, right?” He asked with a disconcertingly earnest brow and devilish smirk.

“Sometimes you say and do the most impossible things,” she said, exasperated.

Terry started to play the harmonica, Candy sitting beside him.

The bell rang.

“It’s time for class. I have to go. Don’t forget, it’s forbidden to smoke near my tree. I’ll see you later, Terry!” She said, running away.

Terry watched her disappeared. He remained seated for a while, tossing the harmonica from one hand to the other, lost in his thoughts.

-------------------------------------------------

[1] Actual statement issued by the BBC radio.

 

[domniki]

Chapter 12

 


BlueRiver Zoo - April 27th, 1994

It was an unusually warm Wednesday afternoon. The Londoners were out in masses, enjoying the sunny afternoon. Terry was coming back from a counseling session, which his father –pleased with Terryʼs recent behavior- was now allowing him to travel to and from on his own.

The session had been quite fruitful and Terry felt good. Which was a relief after the drama of the past few weeks. His mother had been institutionalized somewhere upstate New York, and was following treatment for severe depression, acute paranoia and suicidal tendencies. The day after Kurtʼs death, she had gone to the Seattle Police Department, demanding to meet a detective and making the accusation that Kurt had been murdered by Courtney who was furious about his plans to divorce and start a new life. Eleanor had claimed she did not feel safe and was terrified that Courtney would attempt to kill her as well, so that she would not reveal what she knew about Kurt. She had demanded to be placed under full police protection, with 24/7 surveillance at Jeffʼs house were she was still staying as well as someone assigned to guarantee her safety at all times. The detective she spoke to had told her he would investigate the matter further and would get back to her. Profoundly dissatisfied with his answer, she had reached for his service gun and stated that since she was not taken seriously, she would much rather kill herself than wait for Courtney to do it. The detective had easily subdued her and she had gone into hysterics, screaming that the whole town was part of the conspiracy against her and that she was going to contact the FBI. She had consequently been taken to the psychiatric ward of Seattleʼs Virginia Mason hospital, the footage of which had been shown countless times on TV, along with pictures all over the tabloids. She had remained there for a week before Jeff arranged for her transfer to a center for treatment of mental illness on the East Coast. Upon their arrival at JFK airport, several paparazzi had been there, trying to take pictures of a heavily sedated Eleanor, wearing over-sized sunglasses, walking with the support of Jeff and the private nurse hired for the trip. Jeff had started a heated argument with a photographer who kept snapping pictures, ignoring Jeffʼs plea for some respect and privacy, notions obviously not on the photographersʼ high priority list. It had ended in a ferocious fists fight, Jeff beating up the photographer badly. He was now serving 32 days in jail for it. Terry had not spoken to either one of them since the incident, which was absolutely fine by him for he had no desire to be dragged into the shit the journalists were busy stirring. He would much rather concentrate on himself and getting well, something he was convinced he could never achieved as long as his mother would bring her own crap into his life.

He wanted a cigarette really bad, and felt he deserved one for managing to stay on his best behavior for such an extensive period of time. Out of habit, he reached into his pocket but instead of the familiar pack, his hands felt the metal frame of the harmonica Cady had given him. Ever since that day, he had resolved to seriously try to give up smoking. Unfortunately, it was not as easy as Candy had believed it would be.

“Damn it!” He thought. “I just want one.” He had decided that not buying cigarettes anymore was the most efficient way to quit. Of course, he was quite often bumming one from someone but he had curbed his consumption drastically that way. He looked around him for someone with a cigarette and was happy to see a group of girls about his age, half of them smoking. He put on his most charming smile and approached them. A brunette quickly obliged and lit up his cigarette while looking at him intently.

“Hey, youʼre Eleanor Bakerʼs son, arenʼt you?”

“Me? Certainly not.” He inhaled deeply from the menthol cigarette, closing his eyes. It did not feel as good as he had anticipated. He took another drag before tossing it on the sidewalk, crushing it out with his Converse. “Thank you.” He left, ignoring the girlsʼ request to hang out.

It was 3p.m and Terry did not feel like going back to Saint-Paul just yet, not looking forward the homework he had yet to finish. Instead, he decided he would stop by the BlueRiver zoo to say hello to Albert, whom he had visited there a couple times before.

Terry enjoyed deeply the time spent talking with Albert, whom he found of pleasant company, even if he had trouble figuring him out. On their first meeting, Terry had assumed he was a rich American businessman, with some monetary interest in the zoo. Things turned out to be quite different.

Even though he seemed quite reluctant to talk about himself, Albert had let slip out a few things: he had a bohemian childhood, traveling around the globe at an early age, with his parents first, and then with his older sister following the untimely death of their parents in a car crash when Albert had been 8 years old. The siblings lived for a while in India, where their parents had started the construction of an orphanage mere weeks prior their death. Romy, Albertʼs sister, had been very keen on supervising the project to honor her parentsʼ memory, and had insisted on bringing her kid brother along, much to the displeasure of their Aunt who was eager to send Albert to a prestigious boarding school and for Romy to marry. The pair eventually came back to the States where Romy ended up marrying a much older gentleman, who had a high rank in the army and was seldom home.

Albert was sent to a boarding school in Boston and was miserable. He hated the rigidity of it and could empathized with Terryʼs feelings regarding Saint-Paul. He missed his sister and the contact with animals he had grown accustomed to during his travels.

Romy succumbed to cancer when Albert was 17, leaving him devastated. The day he turned 18, he dropped out of school and went to Africa as a volunteer with an American AnimalRights Organization. He fell in love with the continent, its people and animals.

Terry was fascinated by Albert. He had never met anyone quite like him, except maybe Eddie Vedder who shared the same passion about social equality, environmental defense and animal rights. Terry and Albert quickly bonded over similar life experiences, the loss of a much-loved sibling as well as a free spirit and a strong refusal to allow anyone to make decisions about their life. Terry respected Albert for the fact that even though- judging buy their first encounter - he seemed to be wealthy, he was not tied up to conventions and was still going as he pleased, living a very simple life and really trying to make a difference in the world. Terry guessed Albert to be under 30 and was amazed by everything he had already achieved at such a young age.

Albert was a fervent animal advocate and was at the Blue River Zoo at the request of the UKʼs Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals to assess the situation of the two elephants living at the zoo. Albert had explained to him that in the wild, elephants can walk ten or more miles a day, while zoos commonly hold them in enclosures of a few acres or less. The lack of space for movement and hard surfaces, like concrete and compacted soil, wreak havoc on elephantsʼ feet and joints. These conditions, easily preventable if elephants were given the space and natural conditions they need, were more often than not leading to euthanasia in captive elephants whose physical as well as social and emotional needs were not met in a traditional zoo setting.

Albert was a renowned expert when it came to elephants, having spent several years in India and Africa, observing them in their natural habitat. He also had extensive hands-on experience as the creator and director of a major Elephant Sanctuary in the U.S, with numerous successes in obtaining the transfer of several elephants from US zoos to sanctuaries he had personally inspected.

Albertʼs own Elephant Sanctuary in California –which offered a warmer climate more adapted for the animals- had surpassed zoos in the care of captive elephants. It provided thousands of acres of natural habitat, varied topography, ponds, and soft ground, giving the elephants a greater ability to express natural behaviors such as foraging, running, playing, socializing, and swimming. It gave the animals an activity level conducive to healing captivity-induced foot disorders and arthritis. The use of bullhooks and other forms of corporal punishment was prohibited, as well as chaining. Animal care staff lived on the premises –including Albert himself at times- and provided 24-hour monitoring.

The plea for the elephants was very touching and Terry admired Albert for devoting so much time and effort to such a noble cause.

Albert had shown pictures of the sanctuary to Terry who had been impressed. It seemed huge and looking at the picture, you would never have guessed it was in California for the natural habitat had been replicated to perfection, down to the vegetation.

Terry could not help but wonder how Albert had been able to raise the money necessary to achieve such results, for not doubt the place had cost several millions dollars to create and probably more than a few hundred thousands to maintain. Even if he was heir to a small family fortune, it was still a lot of money. When asked he had been evasive and said most of it came from private donors.

That was the one thing that bothered him immensely about Albert: he was always very talkative when his beloved animals were involved but kept mum about his private life. At times, Terry felt like he was hiding something. He did not even know his last name. Every one at the zoo seemed to know him only as Albert, the American elephant lover.

Terry reached Albertʼs small office –which really was more like a glorified closet- and knocked.

“Come on in,” came Albertʼs friendly tone. Terry walked in. Albert was sitting at his desk, a pen in hand. His desk was full of paperwork, but devoid of any personal touch. No framed pictures. Not even of his beloved sister. It offered no clue as to who the man sitting behind it was.

Albert looked up and welcomed his visitor with a warm smile.

“Hey Al!”

“Terry! What a surprise! How are you?”

“Fine. I was in the neighborhood so I thought Iʼd stop by. I also wanted to ask you if you are free on the 1st?”

“Let me see.” He reached out for a daily planner in the corner of his desk. “Sorry, looks like I have a previous engagement. A friend of mine is having a party at her school. Which happens to also be your school.”

“Oh, youʼve already been invited to the May Festival. Thatʼs great! So Iʼll see you there. I desperately need a friendly face in the audience as Iʼll be playing a piece of my composition on the piano. By the way, whatʼs the name of this friend of yours, maybe I know her.”

“Now that would be quite a coincidence, her name is…”

Albert was interrupted by a firm knock on the door and a female voice that sounded slightly familiar to Terry was heard calling:

“Albert? Hello? Albert?”

“Excuse me Terry. Yes, come on in.”

“Surprise! Good day Albert!” Candy was standing in the doorway, holding a pet carrier, smiling a bright smile that instantly illuminated the whole little room. She was wearing some jeans and an oversized Chicago Bulls hoodie, her hair falling freely on her shoulders. She noticed Terry and her jaw dropped.

“Terry!” She said, unable to hide her surprise, which was shared by Terry.

“Candy! You are Albertʼs friend from Saint-Paul!” Said Terry, smiling at the amazing coincidence.

“She is. Looks like you two know each other… ” Said Albert, sounding a bit uneasy but that detail went unnoticed by the two young people who were lost in the contemplation of each other. Terry had not seen Candy in weeks. They both had been busy with studies and the preparation for the festival, of which Candy, being born in May, was to be one of the Flower Princesses. However, they had talked on the phone at length, and Candy had agreed to be Terryʼs date for the dance.

“Well, yes, weʼre in the same school,” said Candy, who had obviously not caught up on Terryʼs words.

Albert laughed.

“What are the odds? Lucky me! I happen to know the two most rebellious students of Saint-Paul, and here they are reunited in the free world, in my tiny office of all places!” He was trying to sound amused but it sounded fake.

“What do you mean by rebellious?” Asked Candy, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

“You are still the same as before, doing what you please and Terry only thinks about getting out at night to drink and fight!” Said Albert.

“So the person that helped Terry and brought him back that night, it was you?” Asked an incredulous Candy. “Thatʼs how you guys know each other?”

“Yes,” said Terry, “and if he hadnʼt, I donʼt know how it would have ended. I owe you big time Al. Except for one thing…”

“And may I ask what is it, please?” Asked Albert.

“You brought me back to school alright but you had the wrong building, it was the girlʼs dorm,” said Terry.

“And he came into my room!” Said Candy

“Thatʼs a small world, isnʼt it? Of all the rooms, he had to end up in the one that belonged to the only person I know there. So Candy was talking about you when I met her in the middle of the night, looking for a pharmacy?” Said Albert, who was getting quite morose. He somehow seemed bothered by the fact that the two youngsters knew each other.

“Yes, it was for me,” said Terry

“You were not afraid of fighting to save Terry, Albert?” Asked Candy.

“I donʼt like to fight, and thankfully I did not have too. But I would have if it had come down to it,” said Albert

“So in your own way, youʼre a rebel too, taking the side of a drunken teenager?” Said Terry, laughing.

“I am and Iʼm afraid Iʼm going to be one till the end of times!” Said Albert.

They all burst out laughing. The sun came in through the tiny window, and a small ray of sunshine shone on Terry. He closed his eyes and wished for time to stop. He could not remember when he had felt so good last, laughing with friends for no particular reason other than being plain dumb happy. The warmth and complicity that emanated from Candy and Albert seemed to take him in and he was enjoying it very much.

“What do you have in this carrier Candy?” Asked Albert, looking at Candy with a questioning look.

“Oh… Right. The carrier. Itʼs a turtle. Her name is Charlotte. She belongs to my friendʼs Patricia. You must help me. Patricia had her in school but she got caught. Would you believe Mother Gray wanted to have her killed! So I… I… I asked her not to and she gave me the afternoon to dispose of it.” Candy finished her sentence quickly, looking down, visibly uttering a lie.

“What do you mean? That old hag just said “sure Miss Freckles, please do dispose of that animal as you wish. Thank you for your trouble?” Asked a teasing Terry.

“Well… Not exactly…”

“Candy, tell us what really happened, would you?” Coerced Albert, while taking the carrier from Candy and letting the turtle out.

“I… She… I kind of black mailed her….”

“You what???” Screamed Terry.

“I know it sounds horrible but what she wanted to do was worst! I figured it allowed me to be a bit devious...”

“Devious?” Terry could not believe his ears. That Candy was full of surprises.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Candy! See, youʼll never change! Please do tell us the whole story.” Asked Albert, laughing heartily.

“It all happened after lunch. Patricia wanted to show me something. I was waiting for her in my room when I heard a commotion in the hallway. I got out and there stood Mother Grey with two other nuns, towering over Patricia who was sitting on the floor, holding something in her hands, crying for Mother Grey to have mercy. Elisa and her stuck-up friend were also there. As I got closer, I realized Patricia was holding a turtle. Mother Grey was telling her to surrender the filthy animal and asking one of the nuns to make sure it gets destroyed. Patricia was crying heavy tears by then. I asked what the big deal was and why commit such a horrible act for an inoffensive turtle. I was promptly told to go back to my room. Thatʼs when I lost it. I called Mother Grey a heartless witch and…”

“A heartless witch! No? You didnʼt?” Asked Terry, incredulous, unable to suppress the laughter he felt rising in his chest.

“Yes, I did. And she was not too happy about it as you can imagine. She summoned me to go back to my room, adding that she would deal with my insolence later on. To what I answered that I was not being insolent, only speaking the truth. She got so mad that I thought she would explode. But I was on a roll and kept going. I told her that if she did not let me dispose of Charlotte in a humane way, Iʼd call PETA -I have no idea whatʼs the name of the UK equivalent- and have her cruelty exposed for the whole world to see.”

“Holy crap! That was a gutsy move. And she agreed?”

“ Yep.” Beamed Candy.

“Thatʼs wonderful Candy, Iʼm so proud of you.” Albert was beaming.

“Unfortunately, there is a price to pay. Iʼm expected back to school by 6pm. I have to report to Mother Grey who will take me to the meditation room-whatever that is- where Iʼll be locked up till Monday! Sheʼs banning me from the May Festival festivities!” Candy was red with anger.

“Damn that old bitch! She has not pity.” Terry was devastated. He had been looking forward the festival so much because it would have been their first official date.

“Patricia told me it was a very nice party, with nice dresses and flowers everywhere. Thereʼs going to be singing, dancing, a play… And Iʼll miss your Polo game. ” Candy carried on, her voice filled with regrets.

“Well, it wonʼt be the highlight of the festival so you wonʼt be missing much… But it sucks for the music and the dancing. There will also be a lot of food and sweets, itʼs going to last till the evening, thatʼs the best part.”

“Candy, Iʼm so sorry.” Said Albert.

“So Iʼm afraid there is no point in you coming since I wonʼt be attending. And Terry Iʼm sorry for the dance. I was looking forward to it.” Her voice was cracking slightly.

Terry did not know what to say anymore. Albert picked up Charlotte that was exploring the room and announced:

“Well Charlotte, your troubles are over. Iʼm taking you with me. And Candy, you did the right thing.”

“Thanks, Albert.”

“Anytime little one. Now if youʼll excuse me, Iʼm going to take Charlotte to my place. Poor thing looks confused. Iʼm done for the day. Since you guys are here, you might as well check the zoo out. Have fun!”

Albert left, leaving Candy and Terry alone, in an awkward silence. Terry was pondering a blank sport on the wall while Candy was gazing at him, her back leaning against the wall. There were so many things he wanted to tell her but he could not get the words to come out. He felt his heart beating harder and harder, to the point where he thought it would burst out of his chest.

Not able to take it any longer, he stood up:

“Want to go for a walk, Candy?”

“Oh, yes! Iʼd love too” Came the enthusiastic answer.

They walked in silence around the Zoo. Candy seemed to be lost in a dream. Not knowing how to change the mood, Terry ran ahead of her and finally called out:

“Candy! There is someone here who looks just like you!”

“Let me see!” Candy arrived and looked at the enclosure where three monkeys were playing, chasing each other and climbing around the perimeter of the cage.

“When you make faces, the resemblance is stunning!” laughed Terry.

“Oh!!” Exclaimed Candy, her nose frowning in anger and disappointment.

“From now on, Iʼm going to call you Freckly Monkey!!” Laughed Terry. Candy was infuriated and noisily stuck her tongue out at him.

“You are making fun of me again! If I didnʼt restrain myself, I would pull your eyes out!!” Yelled Candy, clenching her hand into a little fist she brandished above her head.

Terry ran away, laughing, and disappeared into the crowd. He could hear her scream at the top of her lungs:

“COME BACK HERE, TERRY!”

He went to one of the vendor scattered around the zoo and bought some cotton candy. He then went back to where he had left Candy and scanned the crowd, finally spotting her, sitting on a bench, sulking furiously.

“Candy!” He cried out, running toward her.

“Ah! There you are!” She exclaimed, frowning.

“Want a piece?” He asked, offering her the pink candy.

“Cotton Candy? Thank you Terry. I thought you had hidden because you were scared.”

“Me, scared?” Laughed Terry, shoving a piece of cotton candy in his mouth.

Candy did not answer and took a piece of cotton candy she shoved in her mouth.

“I love cotton candy. It reminds me of the county fairs I used to go to as a kid.” She said, licking her fingers.

“Me too. My sister used to have a cotton candy machine. We once made a giant one. We used like 3 packs of sugar. And made a huge mess. Cotton candy all over. Even in our hair. But we had a blast.” Terryʼs voice was tainted with nostalgia.

“You miss her a lot, donʼt you?”

“I do… But I really donʼt want to talk about it….” Answered Terry, his voice wavering slightly.

“Sure, I understand. Sorry.”

They kept eating in silence for a bit then Terry asked what he had been dying to know:

“Whatʼs your relationship with Albert?”

“I met him in the US. Before Mr. Andrew adopted me, I used to take care of the horses in Elisaʼs house. He helped me when I ran away once… He saved my life.” It was now Candyʼs voice that was tainted with nostalgia. “ We became really good friends fast. Itʼs like heʼs always around when I need him, heʼs very kind… I lived in the city of Lakewood, near Chicago. Itʼs a nice place…” Her voice was becoming very low. “Anthonyʼs roses must be in bloom…” She trailed off.

“This Anthony, who is he?” The words had escaped his mouth. “You mentioned his name the night you went on your sleep walking trip.”

“When I saw you at the airport, something about you reminded me of him. Anthony was very talented at growing roses, it was his passion. He was always so nice and friendly.” Terry could see the love in Candyʼs eyes as she recalled the boy to whom Terry instantly took a profound dislike. The passion in her voice was like a stab to his heart.

“Does not sound a bit like me! A man who grows roses must be a wuss!” He said in frustration.

“How dare you!! Anthony was not a wuss!! He was strong, courageous and full of audacity!! He was a beautiful person, with a big heart! He had all the qualities a boy should have!” There was a quiver in Candyʼs voice and her eyes were welling with tears.

“Sure, then what? He ultimately preferred to tend to his roses while you were crazy in love with him, huh? He did not try to stop you from leaving for Europe? Is that what happened?” He said in disdain.

Candy looked at him, her green eyes full of an anger she had trouble containing. She was about to speak when Terry cut her off.

“And donʼt look at me like that! Face it. Your lover boy would rather take care of his roses than you. Get over it. There are plenty of boys in England, just as good as him. And less wussy.” He just could not control himself anymore. He knew he was being needlessly mean but he somehow found comfort in insulting this boy he did not even know.

“Anthony… Anthony is DEAD!!!! He fell off a horse and…” Candyʼs voice broke down, her body started shaking and she burst into heavy tears.

Terry wanted to kick himself. What an idiot. Why did he have to be so rude! But he had been so insanely jealous… He was ashamed of all the horrible things he had said about a dead boy.

“Candy… Iʼm sorry… I was a jerk… I had no idea…. “ He put a hand on her shoulder and much to his relief, she did not push him away. She had her back to Terry and was still crying heavily, hiding her face in her hands, her hair falling over her face. Terry did not know what to do, what to say. He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, kissing her hair lightly.

“Iʼm sorry… In case youʼve not noticed yet, Iʼm a bloody idiot. I just… I know it is no excuse but I was jealous… I was jealous of Anthony… Because…. Because I like you…. Very much.” Horrified by his admission, he buried his head in her hair.

They remained like that for what felt like an eternity, neither one of them wanting to move. Candyʼs tears slowly turned into sobs and finally stopped. Terry felt her body relaxed against his and he wrapped her tighter in his arms, his head still nestled in her hair. It smelled like chamomile and it was intoxicating.

“Donʼt feel bad. You could not possibly have known. My life is not as public as yours.” Her small voice broke the silence.

“Thatʼs only because you donʼt have a Mom who is a media whore.” He could not help to say. He was so sick and tired of the way Eleanor had always sold her private life –and theirs in the process- to the tabloids.

“Please, donʼt talk about your Mom like that. It is not nice.” She said reproachfully.

“Well, if you knew her, youʼd see she is not a very nice person.” He said bitterly.

She took his hands off her waist and slowly turned around, never letting go of his wrists. They were facing each other. Her eyes were red from crying but she had a smile on her lips.

“She is still your Mom.” She said quietly. “So… You like me huh?” She looked at him expectantly.

Terry felt like his life was at a turning point. He freed one hand and placed it on her cheek, slowly caressing it and going up toward her hair.

“I do. Freckles and all.” He said, while running his fingertips slowly on her nose bridge. “I know it will sound very corny and I absolutely forbid you to repeat it to anyone,” he added, placing his hands on her thigh, ” but ever since I met you, Iʼve been unable to shake you off my head. It is like Iʼm possessed. When Iʼm around you, I feel things Iʼve never felt before, things I cannot even explain. Itʼs like Iʼm with you in a fifth dimension, in a dream Iʼve never had. I feel like we are not of this world but thereʼs a place for us: stuck inside this fleeting moment, tucked away where no one owns it, in our very own world. When youʼre not around, I am so homesick. But itʼs not that bad because Iʼm homesick for the home Iʼve never had. I feel like you could be MY home.” He felt terribly embarrassed after making such a passionate declaration. He had never said anything like this to anyone but the words had just come out and there had been no stopping them. She was looking at him, blushing and avoiding his gaze.

“Did I creep you out yet?” He asked, wondering how many more minutes before she runs away.

“Of course not! This is just that I feel the same way but would never have been able to put it so nicely,” she said, her eyes meeting his. She gave him a smile full of tenderness and unspoken promises. She reached for his neck, tied her hands around it and slowly brought his face toward hers. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, both putting all their unspoken feelings in it. They had trouble taking their hands off each other and were stopped by the giggles and catcalls of a group of school kids, followed by their teacherʼs reprobating voice.

“Please, behave yourself. You are in a public place. There are small children around. Iʼm going to report you to the zoo security. Come on children, letʼs keep going.”

Without saying a word, Terry stood up, took Candyʼs hand and led her back towards Albertʼs office. They let themselves in. Terry locked the door behind them and pushed Candy up against it, pressing his lips onto hers, their tongues meeting eagerly. He wanted her so badly all his body was aching. He had no idea what he was doing and was functioning entirely on auto-pilot. Candy wrapped one leg around his, bringing him closer to her in an intimate embrace. He let out a small groan, and Candy moaned softly in return, only fueling his desire.

How he restrained himself from tearing her clothes off, he would never know. Their bodies were rubbing madly together, and he quickly ended with a boner, instinctively pushing through his jeans against her mid-section. His left hand had found its way under her sweatshirt and was cupping a breast through her undershirt. Terry had no idea how sexually active she was and did not dare to go any further for fear of scaring her off. But she quickly brushed his worries away by pressing her chest against his hand, demanding more. Terry gladly obliged, and gave a gentle squeeze to her breast, his hand going under the undershirt on to her cotton bra. Her nipples hardened at his actions and her hands proceeded to pull at his shirt, dragging her nails up and down his back, as their kiss became more intense and urgent. Terry felt her sliding and held her more firmly up against the door.

"Oh my god," she murmured as they finally broke apart to catch their breath. Terry abruptly let go of her.

“Iʼm sorry. Iʼm acting like a pig. I donʼt want to rush things. Please tell me if you want me to stop.” He asked, much against his will but he really did not want to mess things up.

She looked at him, her face flushed from their kissing, her hair a blond curly mess and gave him a seductive smile. Without a single word, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her for another passionate kiss that send them tumbling on to the cold tiled floor.

He was on top of her, his hair falling onto her face. She pushed it away and cupped his face into her hands.

“Donʼt worry. I want you as much as you to. I need you. I want to feel alive.” She said huskily.

That was all Terry needed to hear. His captured her lips and kissed her deeply, his tongue mingling furiously with hers. He reached for the buttons of her 501, slowly undoing them. He felt goose bumps on her skin as his fingers came to rest just above the edges of her white knickers.

He looked up at her, his dark blue eyes nothing but a pool of desire. He was relieved to see a very similar look in Candy's green eyes, coupled with a heavy blush on her cheeks. He grinned up at her before going down to her stomach, lifting her shirt up and kissing her belly button area, trailing his tongue in playful licks. He then ever so slowly slid his hand in her knickers, brushing his fingers softly over her pubic area before meeting the wetness of her core. Terry's touch was hesitant at first, his long fingers awkwardly sliding into her. Candy spread out her legs in encouragement, and moaned loudly as two of his fingers slid further into her. He slowly moved them in and out, going deeper with each stroke. Candyʼs eyes were closed, her arms were above her head and she was moaning loudly. Terry was overwhelmed by the sensation touching her so intimately were awakening in him. He had quite an extensive sexual experience but had never felt anything like it. When with most of the other girls he had always cut the foreplay short to fulfill his own pleasure as soon as possible, with Candy, it was completely different. He felt he could touch her for hours and hours and take his pleasure simply by watching her moan under his touch.

Suddenly, Candy sat up, a look of horror on her face.

“What time is it?” Panic was rising in her voice.

Terry looked at his watch.

“Why? Itʼs 5:30. Oh crap!” He said, realizing that Candy was expected into Mother Greyʼs office within a half hour.

Candy quickly got up and proceeded to button up her jeans. She was in a full panic.

“Shit, shit and shit! Iʼm gonna be late!”

“Come on, letʼs go.” Terry took her hand and they ran out. They rushed madly throughout the zoo toward the closest subway station.

Lucky for them, the line to Saint-Paul was a direct one. They had just reached the platform when a train stopped and they rushed in. It was 5:38. The train was full of people going back home after a day of work and they had to stand. Terry was holding on to a bar while Candy was holding on to his shirt.

“We should make it just on time. Donʼt worry.” Terry said, trying to reassure her.

“Iʼm not worried. And even if Mother Grey gets more upset than she already is, which I truly cannot imagine considering how pissed off she was, it was worth it.” She blinked at him.

“Miss Freckles! I must say I am pleasantly surprised by your behavior today! It was totally unexpected.”

She looked at him, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you go around and talk back to our jail keeper, then you let yourself lose with me… “

“And what is so surprising about that? Did you think I was a stuck up goody too shoes or something?”

“Well… Most girls in Saint-Paul usually are…. “

“So you assumed I was like the rest of them?”

“Not really… Not after hearing you talk about Anthony…. Itʼs obvious you loved him very much…. “

At the mention of Anthonyʼs name, Candy seemed embarrassed and looked down to her feet. The train came to a stop and saved Candy the trouble to answer. They ran out and were at the school gate at 6:00 sharp. The gatekeeper let them in after scanning their school Ids. The scanner read 6:01.

They reached the main building, out of breath and stopped by the front door.

“Well, I have to go. Thank you Terry, I had a lovely time.” She said, holding his shoulder and putting a small kiss on his cheek. “You gave me something to ponder while Iʼll be locked up in their jail.” She added with a naughty smile before disappearing into the building.

Terry stood were he was, a stupid smile on his face, till the first raindrops hit him. He proceeded to run toward the boysʼ dormitory, still smiling. Once in his room, he grabbed a notebook, sat at the piano and proceeded to put into words what he was feeling: the lyrics that would accompany his tune had just come up to his mind.

 

[domniki]

Chapter 13

 




​

May 1st, 1994 – Saint-Paul Academy

​

​

The day of the May festival finally arrived. Terry woke up and went straight to the polo field where the game was to open the day’s festivities. For the occasion, the Saint-Paul team had been divided in two separate teams, fiercely playing against each other. Saint-Paul had always been renowned for its polo team, with several players of the British National Team being former students. Terry disliked Polo immensely, it was just another thing his father decided he MUST do and there was no way around it. But he did find the fast-paced and dangerous nature of the game terribly exciting, with the horses going down the field at 30 miles per hour chasing after the ball, coming to a dead stop, turning around to sprint to the other end of the field, all that while the players are doing everything they can to stop the opposite team, with mallets getting hooked and riders sometimes being pulled from their horses. If he enjoyed the action, Terry never got involved emotionally with the game and his teammates were often resentful of his lack of passion and team spirit. That day was no exception. Terry did not bother to socialize and went straight to the middle of the field, riding his horse around. The umpire called the game in a few minutes later. Terry’s role, because of his ability to hit long distances with accuracy and a talent for mallet and ball control was to attack the opposing offensive team and take the ball up the field with a pass to the other players.

Albert was not among the spectators. He had called Terry the previous day to inform him he had decided not to attend, out of respect for Candy’s feelings. She was extremely disappointed about not being able to attend and he felt that if he were to come, she would be even more upset.

His father was in the crowd: the polo match was the only event Richard Grandchester – a former player himself- always attended. Once the game was over –and Terry’s team won- he hurried to Terry to briefly congratulate him with a clap on the back before rushing away.

Terry was done till the concert later in the afternoon and decided to use the fire escape to get to the meditation room, see what Candy was up to and sneak in some sweets. Having been in the meditation room several times himself, he knew all the tricks: it was actually possible to escape by climbing out the window, walking for a few meters on a narrow edge to reach the roof from where it was a breeze to access a trapdoor and go down a ladder that would lead you to the fire exit stairway.

Terry was on the roof, walking slowly to the window. Much to his surprised, it was opened. He jumped in. It was a small barren room, with a bed, a desk with some pen and paper and a Bible, a sink and a toilet. No such luxury as a shower or a tub. Neither TV nor radio. No distraction whatsoever. A grey place where you were left alone with your thoughts.

“Candy?” A somewhat human shape was under the bed covers.

“No, she did not…” Terry thought, slowly removing the blanket to reveal some pillows.

“That girl is something else!” He thought, rearranging the pillows the best he could and getting out.

He arrived in the main hall where lunch was being served. He looked around for the familiar blond locks.

“Where is she? I’m sure she’s around here somewhere…” His search was interrupted by Elisa Reagan, holding a plate with different canapés on it.

“Terrence,” she said in what she without a doubt meant to be a seductive tone that only succeeded in making Terry’s skin crawl, “Great game this morning. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

“Thank you but I just lost my appetite.” He said, leaving, not believing the nerves that girl had, thinking he would have lunch with her after the way she had insulted his family. Candy was obviously not there and the last thing he wanted was for that crazy Reagan girl to harass him.

He went into the park, ran into a boy smoking and bummed a cigarette from him. He then proceeded to climb up a tree and was smoking his cigarette when he heard footsteps. He looked down and saw a boy with long brown hair he did not recall have seen before, looking for something in the bushes. He pulled out a box and proceeded to take what looked like some clothes out of it. Intrigued, Terry kept watching and much to his surprise, the boy took off a wig, revealing the golden curls Terry instantly recognized.

“Candy! How on earth did she get that costume?” He took one last drag from his cigarette and was about to jump down and reveal himself when he saw Elisa Reagan. She was standing a few feet away, a stunned expression on her face that would have been quite funny had it not quickly been replaced by a ferocious smile before she ran back the way she came from.

Candy, oblivious to what was going on, was removing her boy dress up shirt, revealing a pink cotton bra. She reached into the box and took out a brown dress she quickly put on, much to Terry’s dismay who was enjoying the view. She lifted the dress up, undid her trousers and kicked them out- much to fast for Terry to fully appreciate her figure- and was carefully putting the boy’s outfit into the box. She was talking to herself quite loudly while adjusting her dress and Terry could not help but smile at her monologue.

“There we go. It fits me like a glove. You’ll think it was made especially for me. Thank you Mr. William. The dress is wide; so if there’s any trouble, I won’t have any problems running. Let’s not forget the wig or they could recognize me.” She reached into the box and pulled out a long red hair wig. It was too much for Terry who burst into laughter.

Candy let out a little cry of surprise and looked up.

“The cloth doesn’t make the monk, but the pretty dress makes the lady!” Said Terry, teasingly.

“You were there all along, looking at me change?!!” She screamed, a horrified look on her face.

“I inevitably saw you, but to see doesn’t mean to look.”

“Oh, that’s really bad! You peeping tom!”

“You’re lucky I was here. Elisa was following you, she must have had a crush on the pretty boy you were. You should have seen her face when she recognized you.”

“Eliza was watching me? She’s going to turn me in, for sure!”

“Relax, it is the May festival, the nuns are busy. But Eliza is certainly going to come back so we better get moving. Put that wig back in the box and let’s go for a walk near your tree,” He said, jumping down. He picked up the box with her clothes in and took her hand in his other hand. They started running and laughing to her pretend Pony hill, where they fell on the ground, breathless.

“What a wonderful day! Isn’t it?” Said Terry, looking at Candy, smiling.

“Yes, really wonderful,” said Candy sitting up and looking at the scenery.

Terry sat up as well and reached for a piece of grass he started to chew on.

“It’s by a day just like this one that we went on a picnic. I must have been 4 or 5 years old. It’s one of the very few happy memories I have with my Mom. It was Easter vacation and I had come to stay with her. She was married with Jeff. She got home early from shooting and decided we should go on an impromptu picnic. She fixed some sandwiches and we were off to GriffithPark. We played football. She was making silly faces, chasing us. She tackled me and the both of us fell on to the grass, laughing. Mia was climbing on her back, tickling her, and Jeff was holding us all in a big bear hug. It is one of the rare occasions she was not Eleanor Baker the actress. She just was our Mom. My days of happiness are so rare that this one left a mark. I can still hear the laughter and feel the fuzzy happy feeling in my heart. I remember how badly I wanted to stay with them forever. How right everything felt. It’s a memory that never leaves me.”

“That must be a very dear memory,” said Candy.

“Yes, but it’s also the only one. And it was so short. That very evening, while she had promised Mia and I we could camp into her bedroom, she ended up receiving a call asking her to report to the set for some night scenes they had to re-shoot. She left without even saying good-bye. Mia and I were getting our sleeping bags ready when we heard the car leaving. We rushed into her room and she was gone. ” Said Terry bitterly. “We just stood there. Jeff came in with some ice cream and let us watched TV with him in his bed. The three of us just cuddled. Mia and I wanted to stay awake till our Mom got back but of course we did not. ”

“At least you’ve got an image in your heart of one happy day, I don’t have any…” Candy said with unbearable sadness. “I have an idea: we could maybe have a picnic one of those days, just the two of us. What do you say?” She asked, back to her usual cheerfulness.

“Oh Candy…. I’d love that.”

They remained silent, sitting side by side. Music was heard from afar. Terry looked at his watch. It was 3 pm. The post lunch dance had started and would be followed by the concert.

It was Aerosmith’s Cryin’. The opening loud guitars and heavy drum beat slowed down and Steve Tyler’s voice resounded:

There was a time

When I was so brokenhearted

Love wasn't much of a friend of mine

The tables have turned - yeah

'Cause me and them ways have parted

That kind of love was the killin' kind

So listen

Mia had loved this song. She had auditioned for the video and had been really bummed out when she had landed a small part at the beginning instead of the main part Alicia Silverstone was chosen for. They had danced on it together at Eleanor’s last 4th of July party, Mia singing along the whole time. Terry could still feel her body moving against his, her voice filling his ears. He pushed with all his might his sister’s memory back to the corner of his mind where it now belonged. He did not want to break down in front of Candy.

The song picked up into a more upbeat-sound and Terry finally snapped out of his daydream. He looked at Candy who seemed lost in a similar dream and stood up.

“It’s a good song, isn’t it? Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” He asked bowing and extending his hand. Candy took it and they started dancing. He circled her waist smoothly and they twirled around with the music, her feet seemingly floating wherever he led.

All I want is someone I can't resist

I know all I need to know

By the way I got kissed

I was Cryin' when I met you

Now I'm tryin' to forget you

Your love is sweet misery

I was Cryin' just to get you

Now I'm dyin' 'cause I let you

Do what you do down on me

Now there's not even breathing room

Between pleasure and pain

Yeah you cry when we're makin' love

Must be one and the same

Rays of sunshine were coming through the branches, basking the two teenagers in a golden glow. Terry felt something languid and tender come over him. He looked down at Candy who had sunken against him and seemed again lost in a reverie.

It's down on me

Yeah, I got to tell you one thing

It's been on my mind, girl I gotta say

We're partners in crime

You got that certain something

Terry could not resist how the lyrics sounded appropriate and started singing along into Candy’s ear:

What you do to me takes my breath away

Now the word out on the street

Is the devil's in your kiss

If our love goes up in flames

It's a fire I can't resist

I was Cryin' when I met you

Candy finally looked up to him, her eyes a blank gaze. He lowered his face and softly kissed her lips while spinning her around following the music. She did not respond. He felt like she was not even there.

“What are you dreaming about, Candy?” He finally asked.

She looked at him, her eyes welling with tears.

“This song reminds me of the day I danced with Anthony for the first time….”

Terry abruptly stopped dancing, jealousy instantly invading him, body and mind.

“Oh Terry, please don’t take it like this.” Pleaded Candy, holding his hands into hers.

Terry pushed her away unexpectedly and she lost her balance, falling heavily on the grass.

“Him again! When are you going to stop talking about him?” He barked angrily.

“Terry, please…” said Candy, still lying on the grass.

“He’s dead, he fell off a horse! Do yourself a favor: accept it and move on!”

“Stop it Terry!” Heavy tears were rolling down Candy’s cheeks.

“The dead never come back!!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Why? So that you can have all the privacy you need to fantasize about a dead man!!”

“Terry, stop saying that!”

“Saying what? That he is dead? But it is simply the truth! Accept it already! He is bloody dead! It is sad but it is a hard fact and there is nothing you can do to change it!”

“Terry, enough! I hate you!” She was now crying hysterically.

“Fine. Hate me if it makes you feel better! But he’ll still be dead in the end!” He screamed. “You need help Candy. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about. You better get it before it is too late. You cannot let the past destroy your future.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do? What do you know about me?”

“I know that you never mourned properly your boyfriend’s death. And that you are still obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed with him!”

“How do you call sleep walking while calling his name and comparing me to him constantly! You said so yourself. You said I reminded you of him. Well Candy, I’m not Anthony. I’m very much alive. I want you to be my girl but I cannot deal with his ghost between us. I have enough with my own ghosts.”

Candy looked at him dumbfounded. Terry kept going.

“Did you even discuss his passing with anyone?”

“No….”

“What do you mean no? What about your family, I thought you guys were all very close.”

“We are. But we do not really talk about him. It is much too painful.”

“And avoiding the subject will make it all better?”

“Terry, you don’t know how it’s been for me! I was with him when he died. I even took the blame for it. Why would I want to talk about any of that?”

“Candy, my sister died into my arms! You think you are the only who has suffered a tragic loss! Sorry to break your bubble but you’re not! You have no idea what I went through for the past months! I’m a fucking mess! But I’m working on getting better! Yes, it is the hardest thing I ever did but I’m doing it. And I’m not afraid to say that my sister is dead, no matter how much it hurts. Mia is fucking dead and I won’t see her ever again, no matter how much I long to.”

“But it is different! Anthony’s passing was the result of something I instigated.”

“So what? Does it make Mia’s death not as tragic as the one of your precious lover boy, because it is not directly affecting you? Is that what you mean?”

“No, of course not.”

“So please do tell me how your loss is bigger than mine. I’m listening.”

“No… I can’t…” She said, vehemently shaking her head.

“Listen Candy. I like you. I feel we can have something good together. I don’t know how I know it but I just do. But I can’t deal with the bullshit. So either you tell me what happened, or we’re over, before we even started. As simple as that.” He said, sitting next to her.

Candy looked at him. He leaned over and licked off the few tears that were on her cheeks.

“Please… I wanna help you. Give me –give us- a chance.”

She looked at him in wonder, took a deep breath and started talking in a voice heavy with unshed tears:

“Anthony and I used to go horse riding a lot. One day, we were playing around and jumped off the fence into the neighbors’ private park. We found a rabbit caught dead in a wolf trap. We were horrified and went to complain to the neighbor who told us he had set the trap to get rid of a fox that was living on his property, killing his chicken. I got into a big argument with him, telling him to use humane traps instead. We were kicked out and he threatened to talk to our Aunt Elroy if he caught us on his property again. I was very mad and would not give up, despite Anthony’s plea to let it go. I was obsessed with the fox getting his leg crushed in the trap and dying a slow and painful death. I convinced Anthony, Archibald and Stear to come with me the next day and look for the traps and remove them all. So we rode our horses there and split into two teams. I teamed up with Anthony…”

“Figures…” Terry could not help grumble.

Candy ignored him and kept on going.

“To make a long story short, Anthony’s horse got its leg caught into a trap and Anthony fell off, breaking his neck. He was killed instantly. Since it was my idea to remove the traps, I took all the blame. And rightly so.” She finished, hiding her face in her hands, sobbing heavily.

Terry hesitantly proceeded to rub her back.

“Oh Candy! I’m so sorry… But it was not your fault. You could not have known. And Anthony made the decision to come with you. It was a tragic accident. You cannot blame yourself for it. Candy, look at me.”

She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red with tears.

“It was not your fault! You did not put the goddamn traps. Listen, I know how it is to obsess about what you should have done. I’ve been doing it too: I should have walked into her room sooner, I should have called for help right away and a million other things have gone through my mind. But you know what? In the end, it does not change a fucking thing. Mia and Anthony will still be dead, no matter who takes the blame. So you either let go of the guilt and go on with your life, or you cling on to it, torturing yourself every single day with a different “if only” scenario and remain miserable. It’s your choice.”

Candy looked at him and simply said:

“Hold me.”

Terry took her in his arms where she nestled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, her hands around his waist. He rocked her back and forth, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, while kissing her hair.

Suddenly, they heard voices coming their way. They promptly jumped to their feet, threw the box in the bushes and climbed up the tree. A few minutes later, Elisa, her friend Louise, Neil and his cohorts arrived.

“I know it was her. She must be somewhere within the park.” Elisa was fuming.

“Sis, she could be anywhere. It is worthless looking for her. This fucking place is just too big. We’ve been looking for almost an hour. Let’s go back to the party. I’m sure we have a better chance to spot her there. And that way, we can expose her in front of the whole school.”

“He’s right Elisa. Let’s just go. I don’t want to miss the concert.” Concluded Louise.

“Fine. Let’s go. But we must find her.”

They left.

“Shit! The concert!” Exclaimed Terry, looking at his watch. “I have to go! I’m expected on stage in a half hour! Would you come?”

“Of course. I would not miss your big solo! Go ahead, I’ll put the wig on and will see you there.”

He ran away toward the hall where the stage has been set up, a wave of anxiety invading him, even though it would not be the first time he would play in front of a large crowd. His father had him performed at numerous garden parties since he was six, calling him in to play a few pieces for his guests, like he was a prodigy or something. He had also performed several times at Eleanor’s, playing the piano or guitar while Mia sang. But it was the first time he was to perform something 100% of his composition, something deeply personal. He cursed himself for having been such a self-confident fool. He should have agreed to simply play the piano while one of the girls sang some generic love song. Or even participate in the Nirvana tribute like he had been asked to and had been so prompt to refuse.

He reached the stage. The piano had been set in the left corner. Pretty much everyone in the school was in the audience. There was no way Candy would be able to squeeze to the front. It was jammed packed. The news of his solo performance had gone through the school like a wild fire and legions of girls were sitting in the front, ready to swoon. His stomach tightened further. The only girl he wanted to sing for was not there.

Mr. Mueller, the music teacher came to him.

“Terrence, there you are. Brother Marcus just finished tuning the piano. Miss O’Brien will come on stage right after you and sit on your right, slightly in the back.” Patricia O’Brien was a talented violinist and Mr. Mueller had suggested she accompany Terry for the second half of the song. After rehearsing together, Terry had agreed, provided Patricia kept mum about the song till the big day.

“We are pretty much ready whenever you are.” Said Mr. Mueller

“Let’s do it.”

Mr. Mueller walked on stage under strong applause. He was a well-liked figure, known for his love of music and open-mind.

“Thank you all for coming in such large numbers to attend our small concert. We will be showcasing some of our finest school musicians and singers. They all put a tremendous amount of work into this and we hope you will enjoy it. Without any further do, here is our first performance, Terrence Grandchester on the piano, backed up by Patricia O’Brien on the violin, performing a piece of his composition called Home.”

Terry walked on stage under a tremendous roar of applause, whistling and screaming girls.

He sat at the piano, took the mike and spoke in a low voice:

“Wow! I feel like a rock star! Thank you. I’m going to play a little song I wrote. It is my first proper song and it took me a while to complete. This is for you, Freckles. You gave me the strength to finish it.” He said, scanning the crowd in vain for Candy’s red hair wig. Instead, he felt Mia’s presence and could actually see her, sitting next to him, smiling encouragingly.

He took a deep breath, cracked his knuckled and let his fingers ran effortlessly on the piano. As soon as he played the first note, his apprehension faded away and he concentrated on the job at hand, not wanting to screw up. He closed his eyes for a brief instant and proceeded to sing, not fully recognizing the raw voice that came out of his mouth, slightly raspy, but quickly becoming more confident, with just the right hint of sadness where needed.

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHsLuwdjbkI]YouTube - Foo Fighters - Home

Wish I were with you I couldn't stay

Every direction leads me away

Pray for tomorrow, but for today

All I want, is to be home

Stand in the mirror, you look the same

Just looking for shelter, from the cold and the pain

Someone to cover, safe from the rain

All I want, is to be home

Echoes and silence, patience and grace

All of these moments I'll never replace

The fear of my heart, absence of faith

All I want, is to be home

That’s when something told him to look up and there she was, standing on the side of the stage. The long red hair was covering part of her face but he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She caught his eye and mouthed: “It’s beautiful”.

All I want, is to be home

People I've loved, I have no regrets

Some I remember, some I forget

Some of them living, some of them dead

All I want, is to be home

When he was finished, there was a brief silence before the crowd erupted into applause, followed by a standing ovation. A large part of the audience was teary eyes, as was Terry himself. Him of the quick repartee was at loss what to say. He had poured his heart into this song and was overwhelmed by the audience’s reaction. He locked eyes with Candy who was jumping up and down, clapping madly, a bright smile illuminating her face.

He stood up, took a quick bow and thanked to crowd before getting backstage, where he was greeted as a hero by his fellow music class students. He had always received a lot of respect from them because of his talent and musical connections that had allowed him to get backstage passes to various concerts he had been happy to share. That day performance only cemented this respect. He quickly thanked the well-wishers and ran away to where Candy had been standing but she was gone. He was looking for her when his eyes fell on Elisa and Louise talking to Mother Grey. Not liking the way things were going, he quickly went up the fire exit to the isolation room. Candy was not there. On an impulse, he removed the pillows and let himself into the bed, pulling carefully the covers all the way over his head. A few minutes later, voices were heard in the hallway.

“I’m telling you I saw her during Terrence’s performance! She was wearing a wig but it was her!”

“Miss Reagan, I don’t see how this could be but let’s see.” Said the nun who was with Elisa, while opening the door. Terry held on to his breath. If they moved the cover, he was toasted. Luckily, they remained in the doorway and the nun called out:

“Miss Andrew?”

Terry moved a bit.

“I just wanted to let you know we’ll be bringing you food in a moment. So time to wake up.”

Terry mumbled incoherently and the nun mercifully shut the door. The door had barely shut when he heard the revealing tug of someone landing on the floor.

“ I almost got caught!” Came Candy’s voice. “They’re gone, you can show yourself Terry.”

“You could say thank you, Miss Freckles. Lucky I was suspicious of your little friend Elisa…” said Terry, pulling the covers off him and sitting up.

“Thank you Terry,” said Candy, sitting next to him, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him with fervor. She released his lips and murmured to his ear: “Please help me let go of the past. Help me live.” Her breath was warm against his neck. Their lips met again in a hungry kiss, their tongues mingling urgently. He placed one hand on her hip, the other on her breast. He softly pulled her down on the bed with him, his fingers finding their way into the top of her dress, caressing her small breast that fitted perfectly into his hand. Candy started moaning. She hesitantly put a hand on his crotch and Terry thought he was going to come right then and there, the feeling was so intense he cried out while the attention he was giving her breasts triggered continuous moans from Candy.

His hands feverishly went up her dress and tugged down on her knickers. He slid one long finger inside of her, moving it ever so slowly against her clitoris. She gasped and her body contorted into waves of pleasure. Terry’s hand stopped moving and she shrieked in frustration.

“What is it Terry?”

“I don’t know… I just want to make sure… Who are you thinking of right now?”

“ You! Only you Terry! For heaven’s sakes, you have a finger inside of me, of course I’m thinking about you!” She grabbed his crotch again, her hand slowly moving up to his zipper and slowly pulling it down, her fingers reaching for him while he slid another finger into her. She screamed and let go of him, falling into his arms while her body was taken over by an intense orgasm, shaking uncontrollably.

When she stopped shaking, she straddled him and kissed him languorously, before slowly making her way down to his penis that was bulging uncomfortably. She feverishly pulled his pants and boxers down and began caressing his penis in slow motions. Terry thought he was going insane. She was sending him over the edge. The pleasure he felt was so intense he wanted to scream. It was not like anything he had ever experienced. Her fingers were like fire on him, working their way up and down rhythmically, faster and faster. She then softly took him in her mouth and started moving up and down, licking and sucking his penis as if it were a lollipop. Terry’s whole body was overcome by a peak of pleasure, from his hair down to his toe, he felt like a mass of pure pleasure.

He was about to come when they heard footsteps in the hallway. Terry’s body stiffened. They were bringing Candy’s dinner! He opened his eyes and was faced with Candy’s horror torn face. He was the first to regain his spirits. Ignoring the painful erection that was desperately calling for release, he quickly put his pants back on, climbed up the window, blew Candy a kiss and disappeared just as the door was being pushed open.

He briefly entertained the idea of waiting for the nun who was bringing dinner to leave and go back in but he thought he should not push their luck. How he managed to get back to his bedroom, he would never know. He was light headed and fell like he was walking on a cloud. He took a cold shower that did not seem to cool down the heat that was consuming him and without any other option, he satisfied his urge himself, the image of Candy never leaving his mind.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 14

​

​

Saint-Paul Academy – May 7, 1994

Terry fumbled in his denim jacket pockets for his keys while carefully holding a heavy Harrodʼs shopping bag. He opened the door and placed the green bag full of groceries for the picnic he had organized in honor of Candyʼs birthday on the bed.

 


He had found out on Monday in the school weekly paper that Saturday was her birthday and had thought it would be the perfect excuse to organize the picnic they had talked about. He had given her a call upon her release from the isolation room and she had enthusiastically agreed, thanking him profusely.

 


They were to meet on her pretend Ponyʼs Hill at 1 p.m. The weather was unusually warm and humid, with rain in the forecast for later on in the afternoon. Terry gazed out his window at the grey sky and hoped it would not rain for a few more hours. He looked at his watch. It was 12:25pm. He took the groceries out, prepared some sandwiches and put everything in a basket, along with a blanket and a small Taittinger bottle he had smuggled in the previous evening. He had figured Candy would appreciate the fresh peachy flavor of the champagne to go along the flourless chocolate cake he had chosen.

Terry quickly took his shirt off, put on a clean one, removed the elastic that was holding his hair in a ponytail and brushed it, sprayed some CK One on his neck, and grabbed just in case a couple of condoms he shoved into his pocket. He looked at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He sure had come a long way in the past five months: he had put on some weight, his cheeks were not as hollow as they used to be, his skin had an healthier tone, his eyes had lost the “Iʼm not there” look that had plagued him for so long, his hair -a warm shiny deep brown- was long and falling smoothly way under his shoulders. His faded 501s were fitting him nicely, hugging his narrow hips, and the black t-shirt with an embroidered blue electric guitar emphasized his muscular chest and strong arms. The sleeves were short enough to reveal the spirals, interlacing lines, and complex knots of the Celtic armband tattoo on his right forearm. Pleased with the way he looked, he grabbed the picnic basket and briskly walked toward what he now always thought of as Candyʼs Hill.

Terry was the first one to arrive and proceeded to set up the blanket and the food. He had purchased some peanut butter and had made Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwiches, guessing that like most American kids, Candy grew up on those and was missing them. He had also purchased fresh strawberries to go with the cake and dip in the champagne. He had bought some purple orchid flowers he set up randomly on the blanket.

He was standing up looking at his creation when he heard footsteps. He turned around and there was Candy, looking unusually beautiful in a pretty pink spring dress with tiny white flowers prints. It was somewhat childish with its short sleeves and round modest décolletage but emphasized her small waist and revealed a good part of her alabaster legs. She had carefully brushed her hair that was falling over her shoulders in fuzzy curls, a silver barrette with a pink butterfly holding it off her face. She looked at the picnic blanket in awe.

“Well, here is the birthday girl! The party can officially start.” Said Terry, walking slowly toward her, extending a hand she promptly took and guiding her to the blanket.

“Oh Terry! It looks wonderful!” She grinned.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Candy sat down, awkwardly pulling on her dress that was going up her thighs, their smooth look an invitation to caress that Terry had to fight.

“So Freckles, I wish you a happy birthday! How is your day going so far?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, not that well…” She sounded upset.

“What happened?”

“Do you know Annie Brighton?”

“No. Should I?”

“She is kind of new. She came in last month. She is very pretty. She may have caught your eye.”

“Freckles, no one is going to catch my eye now that Iʼve set it on you.”

Candy blushed.

“Well, we grew up in the same orphanage and were like sisters. A wealthy family eventually adopted her. We lost touch. I missed her for all those years and was thrilled to see her here. But she was quick to inform me that she did not want to associate with me, for fear that the rest of the school would find out she is adopted.” Terry could hear the distress in Candyʼs voice and instantly took a profound dislike for Annie Brighton. Whoever was foolish enough not to appreciate the gift of friendship Candy had to offer was an idiot.

“And you said you girls were like sisters? Iʼd hate to see how she is like with strangers!” He said ironically. “What a bitch!”

“Donʼt call her that!” Candy immediately retorted, angry. “She is very shy. She could not handle it if the other students were to make fun of her for being an orphan. Anyhow… She sat next to me today at breakfast and I was certain she came to wish me a happy birthday. I thought I was going to burst from happiness…. But she did not… She actually did not look at me and said some pretty hurtful things…” Candy said with profound sadness in her voice.

“Like what?”

“Oh, I donʼt need to get into it. It was about Archie…”

ʽYour cousin Dandy boy?” Asked a curious Terry. That story was getting more interesting by the minute.

“Gosh, what is it with you? Would you stop making fun of my friends? Yes, Archie.”

“What about him? She does not approve of his fashion sense?” Joked Terry.

“Quite the contrary. She is in love with him.” She answered flatly.

“Well, she should get on the waiting list, heʼs been quite popular ever since he came to Saint-Paul in September!” Laughed Terry.

“Has he?” Asked a dubious Candy.

“Most definitively. Heʼs my neighbor and if you must know, youʼre not the only girl whoʼs sneaking into his room. Thereʼs been quite a few, even if Frida Snape seems to be the one whoʼs there most often. And Iʼm afraid your so-called friend will be no match for Frida who looks like she is straight out of Vogue.”

“ Frida who?” Candy had no clue who Terry was talking about and had never heard Archie mentioning any girl by that name, or any girl at all for that matter.

“Frida Snape. She used to be my lab partner. Tall brunette. Beautiful face. Impeccable body. Terrible in chemistry but funny as hell.”

“A former girlfriend of yours?” Terry was pleased to detect a hint of jealousy in Candyʼs voice.

“Not really. More like a friend with benefits….” Candyʼs face whitened and Terry quickly added “ But that was a long time ago. Iʼve actually been invisible for her ever since your cousin came to school. So anyhow, why was your friend upset with you?”

“She somehow thinks that Iʼm after Archie… She begged me not to take him away from her.”

“Is she totally weird? He is your cousin!”

“I know… But sheʼs always been like this… She always thought that everyone liked me better than her…”

“Well, it is probably true, she sounds like a nutcase!”

“Terry! She is very nice. Really. Just insecure.”

“Whatever… Donʼt let her spoil your day. She does not seem to be worth you spending time worrying about her. So… Shall we eat?” He said, lifting the napkin that was covering the plate of sandwiches.

“Yeah!” came the enthusiastic answer from Candy who was clapping her hands like a toddler who has just been showed a large piece of candy. “Peanut butter and jelly! How did you guess it was my favorite!”

“I grew up part of the year as an American kid, remember?”

Candy was biting enthusiastically into her sandwich. They ate in silence for a while. When they were done, Terry took out the chocolate cake and carefully placed the sixteen candles.

“Oh, it looks delicious!” Candy was almost drooling in anticipation.

“Iʼd figured youʼd like that.” He said while lighting up the candles with his lighter.

“OK. Make a wish.”

Candy closed her eyes and blew the candles while Terry went on singing Happy Birthday Freckles.

“Thank you Terry! But it would have been better if you had them write Candy instead of Freckles on the cake.”

“I thought Freckles was cuter… Candy sounds too much like a stripper name!”

“Oh, you say the most horrible things!!!” Candy said, looking offended.

“Iʼm sorry but itʼs true… Not that there is anything wrong with strippers… Seriously, I like Freckles a lot, it suits you perfectly well.”

“I donʼt know if this is an insult or a compliment?” She frowned.

“Oh come on now, Iʼm kidding! Of course I mean it as a compliment!”

“Whatever. Iʼm not even gonna try to understand you anymore. Can I now have a slice of my cake please?”

“Of course! Would you like some champagne to go with it?”

“Champagne?”

“Yes! I sneaked a small bottle in. Thereʼs enough for two glasses.”

“Well, I donʼt usually drink but itʼs my birthday so what the hell! One glass canʼt hurt!”

“Thatʼs the spirit,” said Terry, while popping the cork and pouring the bubbly drink into plastic cups. “Sorry. I did not have any proper glassware.”

“Doesnʼt matter. Weʼre on a picnic! And everything is just perfect!”

“To you Candice. Iʼm really happy we met. I wish you a very happy birthday. And many more to come.” Toasted Terry.

“Oh, youʼre so sweet! Thank you!”

Terry dipped his fingers into his glass and lightly brushed them over Candyʼs neck, going down to her cleavage, causing her to shiver. “For good luck,” he said. She reached for his hand and kissed his fingers softly.

“Thank you. For everything. This lovely picnic. The delicious cake. For making me feel special every time you see me.”

“My pleasure.” They looked at each other, Candy still holding Terryʼs hand. Her thumb was slowly going over Miaʼs name tattooed on the inside of his right wrist.

“Why did you get those?” She asked, moving her fingers to the tattoo on his arm.

“For fun. Mia had a friend who was a tattoo artist so we each got some done. Do you like them?”

“I think it is beautiful you got your sisterʼs name on you forever… Do you have any other?”

“Why? Are you trying to find an excuse to see me naked Freckles?”

“Terry!!” Candy was red as a beet.

“Sorry. I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. No, I only have those two.”

Candy was still red and looked embarrassed.

“So what are your plans for later?” Asked Terry who was feeling bad for making her uneasy with his stupid comments and wanted to change the subject.

“Well, the boys, Patricia and I are meeting Albert. Weʼre going to a movie and then dinner. Iʼd love for you to join us. Please.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Sorry but I canʼt.” Truth was Terry could not think about spending an evening with the Dandy boy with whom he had had several altercations in the past, even to please Candy. “Iʼm not much of a social butterfly anymore. But Iʼm sure you guys will have fun. Is Albert picking you up in the Mercedes?”

“What?” Candy looked utterly dumbfounded.

“His Mercedes. The one he gave me a ride back to school in. I was in no shape to fully appreciate it but Iʼm sure it must run mighty smooth.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Albertʼs car, what else? The slick black Mercedes with tinted windows and leather seats.”

“Albert? Mercedes? I know you had drunk a lot that night but this is insane! How could Albert afford a Mercedes?”

“What do you mean, how could he afford it?”

“Albert has no money Terry! For all I know he is homeless! When I met him he was basically squatting a house!”

It was Terryʼs turn to look flabbergasted.

“Wait a minute. Albertʼs a squatter? Are we talking about the same guy here?”

“Well, Iʼve known him for years! You just met him so you can believe me, he is no rich man with a fancy car. I didnʼt even know he could drive!”

“Candy, I met him having dinner in a fucking luxury hotel restaurant! He was wearing a designer suit!”

Candyʼs eyes just about popped out of her head.

“Albert? In a luxury hotel? Wearing a suit? This is crazy!”

“I may have been wasted but I know where I was and it was definitively not a location patronized by the homeless!”

“But Terry, the guy is working at the zoo as a groundskeeper!”

“Groundskeeper? What are you talking about? Since when do groundskeepers get their own office? He is here at the request of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals to assess the elephantsʼ living conditions!”

“Terry, you are not making any sense! Who told you all this?”

“Albert himself! He also told me about his elephants sanctuary in California.”

“His what? Terry, this is crazy. Iʼve never heard about any of this. Looks like weʼre talking about two different persons. Had I not seen you with him, Iʼd say your Albert is someone entirely different. What else did he tell you?”

“Not much. He is pretty reserved and does not seem to like to talk about himself much. He did mention a sister. Romy or Rosy, I forgot. She died when he was 17. He went to a boarding school in Boston. Lived for a while in Africa. Thatʼs about it.”

“A sister? I never knew Albert had a sister… He had told me about Africa though…” Candy seemed saddened by the fact that Terry knew more intimate details about Albertʼs life than she did.

“Well, looks like you guys will have quite a lot to talk about tonight, wonʼt you?”

“Yes. Oh, crap, I have to go get ready!” She shot to her feet. “Heʼs picking us up at 4 pm. Thanks again Terry. I had a lovely time. Iʼll call you later on tonight to let you know what happened with Albert. Are you sure you donʼt want to come?”

“Absolutely. Have fun!” Terry stood up and took her in his arms. They shared a long kiss. Terry reluctantly let go off her and she dashed throughout the trees.

Terry watched her ran away. The sky had turned black and thunder could be heard from afar. He quickly gathered up the remains of their picnic and proceeded to slowly make his way back to school. He was half way there when the first raindrops started falling. He was about to break into a run when he heard some voices, one of which he instantly recognized. Fearing Candy was in trouble with Neil Reagan yet again, he quickly made his way toward the voices and stopped once he was close enough to see who she was with, concealing himself behind a tree.

It was not Neil but the Dandy Candy was having an animated conversation with.

“You did not answer my question. Are you two an item?” He stood in front of Candy, wearing impeccably cut black trousers, a pink Lacoste polo with a black argyle sweater placed negligently over his shoulders. His long blond hair was neatly brushed and perfectly in place.

“An item? What are you talking about?” Candy had her hands on her waist and sounded irritated.

“Donʼt play dumb. I was observing you from afar and you looked pretty intimate…. For your own good Candy, you must stop seeing him.”

“You donʼt even know Terry, heʼs a nice guy. And stop making assumptions. Are you following me around? Why?”

“Gosh Candy! Iʼm just watching over you. I canʼt bear for you to get hurt by such an asshole. Donʼt let his good looks fool you! The guy is bad news. Heʼs a drunk and a druggie. He parties like a rock star. Heʼs a Casanova. Heʼll take advantage of you. Heʼll end up hurting you, I just know it. “ Archibald was furious.

“Archie, what is wrong with you? Why are you so angry? Iʼm a big girl and I can take care of myself you know.”

“I know… I just… It is driving me crazy… I…. I just canʼt… I thought we… Maybe we could…” He had become extremely uneasy and was nervously rolling a strand of hair around his index while obviously fighting to find his words. “I donʼt want him to take you away from me…. I… I donʼt want this jerk to make…. ” He hesitantly placed a hand on her arm. She promptly removed it.

“Archie, please stop. Say no more. I thought I had been clear. What happened was a one-time thing and we must not speak of it. It was nice but it is over. You promised me Archie. Please. Donʼt let it ruin our beautiful friendship.”

“I canʼt Candy! Iʼve always….”

“Enough! Enough!” A hysterical cry came from the bushes opposite Terry as a girl stepped out, holding a gift box in her hands.

“Annie! What are you…” Candy was stunned by the sudden appearance. A loud thunder erupted, followed by heavier drops of rain.

“I wanted to give you a birthday gift Candy, but looks like Archie is the gift you really wanted! I hate you! Both of you!” Annie screamed before running away deeper into the park.

Candy immediately proceeded to chase the girl whom Terry assumed to be the childhood friend she had told him about, while Dandy boy stood there, looking like he had been hit by a train. Terry slowly made his way toward him, still trying to process the implication of the Dandyʼs declaration.

“Well, well well… If it is not Dandy Cornwell, standing in the rain. Donʼt you realize it will ruin your brushing and irreparably damage your cashmere sweater?”

Archibald Cornwell was startled by Terryʼs sudden appearance.

“Did I spook you? I probably did, after all, Iʼm not the most pleasant person in the world to be stuck in the woods with, am I? “

“Grandchester! What are you doing? Were you spying on Candy and me?”

“Spying? What an ugly word. And seems like youʼve been the one doing all the spying lately. I was just making sure my girl was not in trouble…”

“YOUR girl?” Archibald screamed out.

“Yes, MY girl.” Terry relished the look of agony and sheer horror on Archieʼs face.

“Funny how she did not mention you before… “ Archie was prompt to recover his cool.

“Maybe because she knew you would throw a pathetic fit of jealousy. It was quite sad.”

“Drop it Grandchester. You donʼt know anything about Candy and me.”

“What is there to know? Iʼm curious… I know you guys are cousins. Is there more to it? Do you have some kind of sick obsession with her?”

“Shut your mouth. I care a lot for Candy. A lot. Life has not been kind to her. Rather hellish. You would not know it but she experienced things that no one should experience. Especially someone as sweet, selfless and caring as she is. Things are finally better. Her future looks bright. Donʼt ruin it. You can have any girl, why her? Let her be. I canʼt let her get hurt by a guy like you.”

“And what is a guy like me like, exactly?”

“A pompous jerk who uses girls to satisfy his own pleasure, only to drop them when a new one comes around. I wonʼt let you do this to Candy. If you know whatʼs good for you, stay the hell away from her.”

“Or what? Are you threatening me Dandy boy?”

“You bet I am. If I see you around her once more, Iʼll kick your sorry British ass so hard you wonʼt be able to parade on your horse for weeks!”

“Well, Iʼm here now. Why wait? I do not intend to stay away from Candy so you better kick my ass now.”

Archibald made a quick move and with much more violence Terry had expected, he sent him to the ground with one strong punch to the stomach.

“There. Happy? Do you want more?” Asked Archie, carefully rearranging his hair that had fallen over his face.

Infuriated, Terry shot to his feet and lunged head first at Archibald, taking him down with him to the muddy ground where they ferociously wrestled. They were soon covered in mud. Several punches were exchanged. Terry could feel blood dripping inside his mouth and Dandy boy was bleeding over his left eyebrow. The rain was now falling hard and they were soaked to the bones. Terryʼs shirt was partially pulled off, and Archibaldʼs polo was ripped off. His sweater had fallen off and had turn into a pile of wet muddy wool. They were of roughly equal force and they would have kept struggling had Stear not showed up and separated them.

“What on earth are you two doing? Stop it! Where is Candy?”

The mention of Candyʼs name seemed to bring them back to their senses and they stopped.

“She ran after Annie. Grandchester, weʼll finish this later.” Said Archie disdainfully, adjusting his polo to no avail for it had been ripped in the middle and was soaking wet.

“Iʼll be waiting for you.” Said Terry, slowly getting up and pushing his wet muddy hair from his eyes.

“Shut up you two! What happened and why were you fighting?” Asked Stear impatiently.

“Your Dandy of a brother thought he could dictate my life!”

“That asshole is after Candy! I know he is just trying to get into her pants.”

“Like itʼs not what youʼve been trying to do for years bro? What the fuck is wrong with you? Get a grip and give the girl a break! Youʼre not her Dad!”

“So what, youʼre taking his side?” Moaned Archie.

“Iʼm not taking any side. For Godʼs sakes, you make it sounds like there is a war! And while the two of you were so ridiculously fighting, the girls are gone!”

“Well, while you two sort your family affairs, Iʼm gonna go look for them.”

“You donʼt go anywhere Grandchester! Stay out of this! This is my fault. Iʼll go look for them.” Shouted Archibald.

“Donʼt be stupid Archie. This place is huge. Letʼs all go.” Said Stear who seemed to be the more reasonable brother.

Terry was already gone. He was running, calling out Candyʼs name, oblivious to the cold that was starting to penetrate him through his wet clothes.

He was about to give up and go to his room when he saw her, her back flat against a tree, probably looking for shelter from the rain that was now falling steadily, forming a heavy curtain.

“Candy!” He ran toward her and as he got closer, he realized she was crying.

“Terry!” She cried out, jumping into his arms. She was also soaking wet, with goose bumps running all over her body.

“Candy! What are you doing here? Youʼre going to catch pneumonia. Letʼs go back to school.” He said, firmly placing his arm around her shoulders, and leading her toward the school.

“I canʼt leave Annie…” She weakly protested.

“Your cousins are looking for her, theyʼll find her eventually.” He answered firmly, tightening his hold of her.

“I did find her…” She said, tears rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the rain.

“What? Is she dead?”

“Of course not! Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because youʼre crying as if someone just died!”

“I guess in a sense someone did. Our friendship… She truly hates me. She pushed me away. She said all kind of horrible things. Then Elisa and Louise arrived right when she was screaming about how everyone at Ponyʼs home where we were raised liked me better. When she saw them, she was mortified. They of course could not have been happier. They instantly made fun of her and said they would inform Archie promptly. Annie ran away while I got into an argument with those two pests. I then tried looking for Annie but nothing… ”

“She is probably back to her room. Donʼt worry…”

“Oh Terry… I feel so horrible… She loves Archie so much and I….” Candy seemed in agony over something.

“What is it Candy? What happened between you and Archie?” Terry had to ask. Ever since he overheard their conversation, and Archibaldʼs blatant display of animosity, he had the feeling those two had a past together, a past nobody else knew about.

“Oh Terry… I canʼt… It was a stupid thing to do… A mistake really… But I was in such a blur… And we were so sad…” She was red eye, looking utterly lost.

“Candy, what the hell happened? “ Asked Terry, not liking a bit where this was going.

Candy stopped walking and looked at him, visibly agonizing over what to do next.

“Candy… Nothing you may have done can shock me. Donʼt be afraid. Tell me.” He took her hand and squeezed it tightly.

She took her eyes away from him and said in a very low voice, half covered by the rain:

“Archie and I had sex.”

The words pierced Terryʼs heart. He let go of her hand.

“When?” Was all he mastered to say. He wanted to scream. The very idea of the Dandy being intimate with Candy made him nauseous and sick with jealousy. Images of them shot through his head. It was unbearable. He had suspected she had a sexual past, judging by her behavior with him, but never in a million years would he have guessed that one of her partner had been the Dandy, someone whose simple vision had been odious to him ever since the very first day he had set his eyes on him.

“After Anthonyʼs death… I was devastated like nothing you can imagine. I felt numb. Grief was overpowering. I had no energy, no appetite. Nothing. All I wanted to do was lay in bed and cry. One day, the boys were with me, trying to keep me company and cheer me up. I was in bed, half asleep, and they were on the balcony… Stear came in and lightly kissed my hair, telling me he was going for a walk. His kiss sent shivers down my spine and I was soon fully awake. I got up and went on to the balcony. Archie had his head resting on the railing. He was crying. I came to him and took him in my arms. We both cried, hugging each other… Then I kissed him… I donʼt know why but I did… One thing led to another… He was my first… Oh Terry, this is awful… Iʼm a terrible person…” She cried, hiding her face in her hands.

“Do you love him?” Terryʼs first impulse had been to ask “Did you enjoy it?” but he decided he really did not want to know the answer to that.

“I do. But not the way he wants me to…”

“Do you still see him?”

“What do you mean? Of course I do, heʼs my cousin!”

“I meant do you still have casual sex with him?” Uttering the words hurt. But he had to know.

“Are you nuts? Of course not! Iʼve been very clear with him. It must not happen ever again. Even if at the time it felt right, it is not. And to top it all, Annie is crazy in love with him… I cannot believe I betrayed her. It makes me feel dirty just to think about it. It is so shameful… Do you hate me now that you know the kind of girl I really am… A weak girl suffering a disorienting grief who thought helping another to heal by giving him her body would help them both grieve… Iʼm such an idiot… ”

“Candy… Iʼd never hate you. No matter how much I hate the idea of you and him… Oh, I canʼt even say it… Anyhow… I understand. I do. When Mia died, I felt I had died too but was somehow stuck in limbo. I felt I needed something to snap out of the languid torpor I had fallen into… So I went to a bar and banged the first girl that approached me. Donʼt even remember her name or what she looked like. But I can tell you that immediately after, I felt much better. I felt alive. It gave me the strength I needed to attend the funeral… “

“Terry…”

“Stop torturing yourself. Whatʼs done is done. It was just sex. Heʼll get over it!”

“Oh, I donʼt really worry about Archie. I worry about Annie…”

“What about her?”

“She is crazy about him… And he does not even see her…”

“So what? Tough shit! Sheʼll find someone else. Stop worrying about others for a second, would you? It is your birthday! Come on.” He took her hand and they ran as fast as they could and finally reached the main building. Their clothes were soaking wet, clinging to their bodies and leaving a water trail behind them. The hall was deserted. Terry led Candy to a small corridor. They stopped in front of a door.

“Have you ever made out inside a janitor closet?”

“You cannot be serious?”

“It is your birthday and I did not have chance to properly kiss you. Come on.” He opened the door and pulled her giggling behind him. He had barely shut the door that she was on him, kissing him passionately, her tongue pushing into his mouth to hungrily meet his. He sat her up on an empty shelf, his hands resting on her bare thighs, his fingers slowly rubbing her wet skin. He buried his head in her neck and trailed off little kisses down to her breasts. He pulled the top of her dress down, revealing a white cotton bra rendered transparent by the rain. He could see the darker shade of her nipples perking under it. He quickly unhooked her bra and started licking off the droplets of rainwater from her nipples, trailing his tongue all over them before sucking on them feverishly. His body was on fire despite his clothing, cold and heavy from the rain. She was shivering under his touch, moaning softly and gradually opening up her legs to accommodate him. His fingers were approaching the edge of her knickers and she was rocking her pelvis in anticipation.

“Tell you what,” Terry said, pulling away from her with difficulty. “Letʼs take it slow from now on, OK? I donʼt want you to think all I care about is getting into your pants. I donʼt want you to end up feeling about me the way you feel about Archie. You are too shaken right now to know whatʼs good for you and I feel like Iʼll be abusing the situation.”

“I know exactly whatʼs good for me. You. You make me perfect.” She said while proceeding to kiss him deeply, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, her body rubbing against his, her hands puling at the front of his shirt and slowly making their way down to his zipper. “Help me… Help me get away from myself. I need to forget about everything else.” She pleaded.

“Candy, no. Iʼm serious. Not now. Not like that… ” He said firmly, pushing her away and picking up her bra that had landed on the floor.

“But Terry… I thought you…” She looked hurt.

“Oh, I do want it. Believe me. More than anything else.” He said, softly brushing his burning lips on her forehead. “I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea. I want to feel you from the inside. I canʼt stop thinking about you. Youʼre the reason Iʼm still alive. But now is not the right time. Youʼre not the kind of girl I want to fuck for the sake of fucking. Youʼre so much more.” His fingers were caressing her face. “I want our first time to be more than some desperate comfort-seeking, pain-numbing sex.” He kissed her neck and helped her adjust her clothing. “Go get ready. Albert will be here soon. Happy birthday.” He placed a small kiss on her lips and quickly exited the closet, afraid he might change his mind.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 15

SAINT-PAUL ACADEMY – JUNE 25th 1994

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Terry looked at the open mouth of his suitcase, memories of happier times flashing through his mind. That time of the year had always been his favorite: school was finally over and he had always enthusiastically packed his belongings to spend the whole summer with Mia, usually dividing their time between LA, Eleanor’s house in Saint-Tropez and occasionally a few days in Scotland. With Mia gone, he could care less about what was to happen of him within the next few months. All he knew was that he did not want to spend any time with Vivian. Her constant nagging and derogatory remarks were driving him over the edge and he had caught himself several times wanting to strangle her. He had talked his father into letting him spend the summer at the Grandchester’s manor in the Scottish Borders, under the supervision of Irene, the groundskeeper’s wife who had been one of his numerous nannies.

The need for his sister had come back with a vengeance and her absence was haunting him yet again, leaving him melancholic, feeling utterly purposelessness and with a sense of emptiness he was now convinced no one else could fill. His shrink had been right after all: he had transferred too much of his feelings for Mia onto Candy, using her as a life preserver to keep himself afloat. He was now paying the price for it and was sinking slowly back into his old tortured self.

His relationship with Candy had come to an abrupt alt after her birthday. She and her cousins, as well as the Reagan’s siblings, had disappeared from the school the very next day. After probing Patricia during band practice, he had found out they had been pulled out to attend some pressing family matter.

Upon her return two weeks later, Candy had given him a call while he was in class. He assumed she did it on purpose so not to have to talk to him directly. She had not sounded like her bubbly self. Her voice had a graveness Terry had never heard before. She had apologized for her silence, said something important came up. Something that changed her life. She mentioned being confused about everything and needing some time on her own. She had finished with a “we’ll talk in September, have a wonderful summer”, making it clear that she had no desire to see him prior the end of the school year.

Terry had tried calling her but she never picked up the phone or returned any of his messages. She had ignored his offer to help with whatever might be troubling her, which had pained him more than he liked to admit. He had even confessed on a particularly long and rambling message how much she had helped him overcome part of his problems and how much he was eager to return the favor but she did not seem to care. She was actually avoiding him, making sure she was never alone when their paths crossed and Terry never found the guts to chase after her. He just could not bear her rejection and felt he would break down if she told him to get lost. Silence was better than open rejection at this point in his life. She was very often with Archibald Cornwell and the mere sight of the two of them together was infuriating. He felt Archibald was behind Candy’s decision and his hatred for the beautiful Dandy boy reached a new peak. He was convinced Candy had again turned to Archibald for comfort, rekindling their little love affair in the process, the very idea of which was making Terry incredibly angry and immensely sad.

He was going everyday to her Pony’s Hill, hoping for a chance meeting, but she was never there anymore. He had tried to call Albert at work but was told he had left his position at the zoo, leaving Terry to wonder if Candy’s strange behavior had anything to do with Albert.

He opened his dresser and pulled out some random clothes he threw in his suitcase. He opened his nightstand, took the harmonica Candy had given him, toyed with the idea of playing it for a while but tossed it in the suitcase, lighting up a cigarette instead.

He went back to his dresser from which he pulled a pair of black slacks, the Ramones t-shirt that had been Mia’s attempt to turn him back on to what she called “real music” and a black blazer jacket. Tonight was the yearly end of school celebration, hold at the Dorchester’s ballroom. It was the only school event he did not mind attending for it was taking place outside of the school premises. It was funded by some students’ parents – including Richard Grandchester- a few of them were supposed to act as chaperons but they usually hung out at the main bar, popping in occasionally to check on the teens. The atmosphere was pretty lax and it was relatively easy to sneak in booze and drugs. The students had a party committee composed of seniors who was overseeing the organization. The school band was to play a small concert yet again, doing exclusively cover songs before a DJ took over for the rest of the evening.

Terry had been hesitant about committing to it. For one, he absolutely despised doing covers. Then, the others wanted to pay tribute to Kurt Cobain and play exclusively Nirvana’s songs, which Terry felt he would be unable to do. He threatened to pull out of the event and after much negotiating on each part, they came up with a compromise: they would do only one Nirvana’s cover as their last song of the night, but not Smells Like Teen Spirit as they had been asked by the party committee. Terry just could not bear to hear it, let alone play it, without memories of Mia coming to weigh down on him.

He crushed his half-smoked cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, took off his shirt and was about to hit the shower when the phone rang.

“Hello,” he said, while sitting down and taking his Converses off.

“Terry, it’s Jeff. How are you doing?”

“Jeff! I’m good! How the hell are you? Are you out?”

“Yes… Been out for a couple of weeks now.”

“How was it in there Jeff? Was it brutal? Sorry you had to go through this shit but you gave that bloody photograph what he deserved. Fucking pig.”

“It was alright. Food sucks though. Allowed me to catch up with a few screenplays that had been sitting on my desk for months. Which is actually the reason of my call.”

“What’s up?”

“I have a script for a movie version of Romeo and Juliet. I’d like you do read it.”

“Why?” Romeo and Juliet had been Eleanor’s big break on stage. The last thing he wanted was to follow in her footsteps.

“I think it could interest you.”

“You know my father forbids me to act.”

“And I know you thought about getting emancipated, didn’t you? But anyhow, you’ll be 18 in 6 months and the shooting will not start till spring of next year at the earliest so you’ll be able to do it regardless.”

The emancipation. Terry had indeed started looking into the proceedings back in November but never followed up. He had been so caught up into everything else that the emancipation had not been on his priority list the way it used to be before.

“Ok, mail it to me. I’ll look it over.” Acting was something that had attracted him ever since he could remember. The offer was too tempting for him to worry too much about following in his mother’s footsteps. Plus reading the script did not mean he would get the part or even secure an audition.

“You’re gonna like it. I just know it. Also, what are you doing this summer?”

“I’m actually leaving for Scotland tomorrow so send it over there. I have no special plans, just hang out there till September.”

“Listen, your Mom is going to be released soon. She’ll go straight to the Saint-Tropez house. Why don’t you go and spend the first half of the summer there?”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Terry, she needs you. She really does. If you could show up for a few weeks, it would make a huge difference for her. Please. Can you do that for me?”

“Jeff… I’d do just about anything for you but not this… I just can’t… I finally came to peace with what happened and accepted it but I certainly am not ready or even inclined to forgive her.”

“Terry… Please… What about just for a week-end if I’m also there?”

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry.” The very idea of being face to face with his mother was making him sweat.

“Fine… But if you change your mind, let me know.”

“Don’t count on it. I have to go now Jeff. Take care.”

“You sound good Terry. I’m glad. Bye.”

“Bye-bye.” Terry slowly put the receiver down. His mother. Again. He had managed to put her to the back of his mind, which had been quite easy given that since her hospitalization, she had been scarce in the tabloids, which had been a relief after the media circus that had followed Kurt’s death.

He stood up and was undoing the buttons of his 501 while walking toward the bathroom when the phone rang again.

“What now?” He thought while picking up the phonr. “Hello?”

A female voice with an American accent answered his greeting. Unfortunately, it was not the American girl he so desperately wanted to talk to.

“Hello Terrence. I’m glad I caught you. This is Elisa Reagan. I have a pressing matter to discuss with you.” He could detect the fake concern in her over friendly tone.

“I don’t have time now. As you may know, there is a party tonight.”

“That’s precisely the reason why I’m calling. And trust me, it is something you’d want to hear.” Triumph was now clearly audible.

“ You have 2 minutes.” Terry said against his better judgment.

“Neil is planning something to humiliate you tonight. He hates your guts. He’s the DJ and has a little slide show ready.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“You know, those weird pictures they like to project on the walls to go with a certain song? Well, he got hold of some compromising pictures of your sister, your mother, as well as yourself. I’ve seen them and trust me, they’ll speak volume. He’ll project them to the sound of Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

“What a psycho!!!” A sudden wave of nausea threatened to send him running to the bathroom.

“ I can stop it Terrence. All I want in return is for you to be my date to the party, and acknowledge me in public as your girlfriend.”

“What!!?? You cannot be serious? If you think I’d do such a thing, you’re crazier than your brother!”

“So you’d rather have your sister exposed for the slutty drug addict she really was, is that so?” Terry could picture the victorious grin on Elisa’s malevolent face. Rage erupted and he shouted madly into the receiver:

“Shut your fucking mouth you conniving bitch! Don’t you dare talk shit about my sister you piece of trash. You did not know her so shut up. And for your information, pictures are worth nothing you bloody idiot. Anyone knows they can easily be manipulated. Stop being such a retard and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh trust me, they are very real. And that’s besides the point: they are so disgusting that no one will care whether they’re real or not.” Elisa hissed. “And watch your mouth. I’m not some stable girl.” Her voice became plain heinous.

“Of course not. A stable girl is far classier than you. You’re just a manipulative bitch who is used to get her way. Well, not this time. I can easily expose your brother: what can stop me from asking one of the chaperon to check the slides, you moron?”

“You think my brother is a cretin, don’t you? He won’t put the slides in till the very last minute. And he won’t be carrying them on him so there is no need to plead to have him searched. Only him and I know where they are. So what’s your answer?”

“Fuck you!”

“Anytime baby.”

“Fuck off you stupid whore.” He slammed the receiver down, pulled the wire off the wall and threw the phone across the room. It was the last thing he had expected. Pictures… What pictures? Maybe that psycho bitch had been bluffing. Yes. She must have been bluffing. Eleanor’s PR team would never have let any compromising pictures surfaced. No way. She had worked too hard on her image to let some pictures destroy everything. Elisa was just pulling a desperate move to talk him into dating her. It just had to be. Otherwise, he was in for a rotten evening. Forgetting his shower, he quickly changed, grabbed his pack of cigarettes and left the room.

*****************

Terry was walking briskly through Hyde Park. He had a splitting headache and wanted to get a few drinks down prior to going on stage. His nerves were starting to give in and he could not afford a break down tonight. He figured alcohol would soften the edges. He was actually for the first time in months desperate for pot and was hoping that Peter would have some.

The Dorchester finally stood in fort of him, a curved Art Deco building of reinforced concrete with polished crushed granite. Looking across the soft green swathes of Hyde Park, the Dorchester was one of the most desirable places in the world to stay. A Mayfair luxury hotel of great repute, it had remained a pinnacle of luxury and ease. With its reputation for providing hospitality for the rich and famous, it was the perfect place for the Saint-Paul students to celebrate the end of their school year.

Terry pushed the heavy glass doors open and made his way to the Ballroom. The colossal, pillarless room, had a distinct 1930’s décor with its mirrored walls set with sparkling studs, crystal chandeliers, high ceiling and heavy blue silk drapes. Tables had been set up around what was to be used as a dance floor. A stage had been built in the back, a small section of it reserved for the DJ.

A young man with long and messy blond hair, wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt, was on stage, setting up the amplifiers and microphones. Peter Benson, the band drummer. Terry walked to him.

“Hey Pete!”

Peter looked up with faded blue eyes.

“Terry mate! Coming to give me a hand? I’ve already set up the keyboard. The guitar should be with the rest of the gear over there,” he said, pointing to a corner crowded with musical instruments of all kind.

“Actually, before getting to that, I need a favor. Got any weed?”

Peter flashed a mischievous smile.

“Sure do! Also got a bottle of J&B…”

“I knew you would not disappoint. Can we open it now?”

“Come on.” Pete said, grabbing a black bag pack and jumping off the stage, making his way out of the ballroom. Terry followed him. They entered the nearby men’s restroom. Peter dropped his bag on the counter top, pulled the zipper and produced a small plastic bag containing some marijuana buds, a blown glass pipe and the J&B bottle. He packed the pipe tight and handed it to Terry who took his lighter out of his pocket and proceeded to light it, inhaling the smoke deeply, eyes half closed. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed the smooth and rich feeling of the smoke on his throat, much more pleasant than cigarettes’ smoke. He exhaled and took another hit before passing the pipe back to Peter who in return handed him the J&B bottle. Terry took a big gulp, the warmth of the alcohol burning his throat. They continued their little exchange for about five minutes, when they felt sufficiently high to bear the couple of sappy songs they were expected to perform. Terry felt relaxed and Elisa’s threat was forgotten.

The two boys went back to setting up the gear and were soon joined by the other members of the band. Everyone was in good spirits and they were conversing merrily.

Penny Wilson –the main singer- was looking at Terry and Peter with profound reprobation:

“I can’t believe it!!! You guys are stoned!!! Look at your eyes! They’re so bloodshot you look like you have myxomatosis! And what’s up with your t-shirts? I thought we had agreed to wear cocktail attire. Why do you always have to act like rock stars, you stupid idiots!!! You’re going to mess it all up for everybody!”

“Relax babe. It’s cool. We know what we’re doing. Don’t worry, we won’t mess up your precious rendition of Celine fucking Dion or whatever lame ass singer you chose to cover.” Slurred Peter, laughing uncontrollably. Terry joined in, poking Peter in the ribs, the two of them roaring with laughter.

“You two are pathetic losers! Go ahead, make fun of me but I’ll be the one accepted to the Royal Academy of Music while you are left to perform at weddings!” Penny was absolutely furious. Seeing her that way only increased the boys’ hysterical laughter. She left the stage after giving them a look full of hatred.

They all resumed the set up of their respective instruments. Terry was tuning his guitar when he heard a voice call him.

“Terry? May I have a few words in private?” Elisa Reagan stood by the stage, wearing a long fluorescent blue sleeveless crochet coat over what looked like a lime crochet swimsuit. The coat was shut at the top with a string, revealing Elisa’s perfectly toned tummy on to which she must have applied some sunless tanning lotion for her skin there was orange. She had the decency to wear some lacy dark blue knickers under her crochet bottom. She wore bright orange knee-high platform boots. In lieu of accessory, she was holding a fan with some kind of nativity scene depicted on it. Terry had never seen a more ridiculous outfit. He exploded with laughter again.

“Holy shit Elisa! Where did you get the idea that this was a costumed party, and what the hell are you dress up as? A drag queen?”

She shot him a killer look.

“You ignorant fool. This is called New Rave and is the latest fashion! But I’m not here to discuss fashion with you.”

“Too bad ‘cause you clearly could use some pointers!” Laughed Terry. His ribs were killing him, he had not laughed like this in years!

“Laugh while you can… I can assure you, you won’t be laughing in a few hours…. Unless you’ve changed your mind…”

“About what?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, exasperatedly combing his fingers through his hair.

“About my little proposition…”

“You mean your ridiculous offer? You really think seeing you wrapped up in a curtain will make me change my mind? You truly are crazy, girl.” He said, cracking up again.

“Fine. Your choice. I must say as much I would have enjoyed fucking you, I’ll enjoy seeing you humiliated in front of the whole school even better.”

“Yap! Yap! Yap! Piss off you curtain atrocity! I have better things to do than listen to your gloating.” He walked off to the area that had been set up for the DJ, took the slide projector, dropped it on the floor and stepped on it with his heavy army boots, crushing part of it to pieces. “Oops… I guess your dear brother will have to do without the slides…”

“You’ll pay for this Terrence Grandchester!” She threatened before walking away.

“What was that?” Asked Peter.

Terry shrugged. “Just a demented fan…”

************

Terry was functioning on auto-pilot. He could not remember how many songs they had played so far and how many were left. Penny Wilson was screaming her heart out to Celine fucking Dion’s The Power of Love. Terry’s eyes were glued on one couple on the dance floor: Candy and Archibald were moving languorously to the slow song. Candy looked spectacular in a red tuxedo suit cut from what looked like red satin and a skintight black camisole. Her thick hair was falling over her shoulders in tamed curls kept away from her face by a small silver headband with incrusted rubies. Dandy boy was as always impeccably dressed in a dark silk tuxedo, grey vest, white shirt and red tie. Candy had her head resting on his shoulder and he was murmuring into her ear. Candy was giggling. That vision of obvious intimacy made him dizzy with jealousy. He was desperate to catch Candy’s eye but never once did she looked up to the stage. Penny was finally done screaming and was talking in the microphone:

“Thank you all for coming. I hope you‘re enjoying yourself. It is now time for us to let Neil Reagan do his job as your DJ for the evening but before that, some members of our group are going to pay tribute to Kurt Cobain by a rendition of Nirvana’s All Apologies. So ladies and gentlemen, I thank you very much again for the warm welcome and let you with Terrence Grandchester, Joshua Stevens, Patrick McIntyre, Peter Benson and Patricia O’Brien’s first public try at the cello.” Penny was such a bitch. Poor Patricia was petrified enough and certainly did not need that kind of comment. Terry left the keyboards and went to get his guitar. He saw Patricia who was pale as a ghost and on the verge of tears. She was struggling with her cello. He walked toward her and handed her his guitar.

“There. Why don’t you let me take your cello up to the stage and you take my guitar?”

“Thank you!” She gave him a small smile full of gratitude.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine, you’re very talented you know. Don’t let a mean bitch like Penny mess up with your mind. She’s just jealous because she can’t play any instrument.”

They walked together on to the stage. Patricia took her place next to Peter at the drums while Terry stood in the center, surrounded by the other two guitar players. He had tried to weasel his way out of singing but the others had pointed out that he was the one who would do justice to the song, even more so given the fact that he had known Cobain personally. A born actor, Terry was known for his uncanny ability to appropriate the original singer’s voice for himself whenever they would play cover. It was something Terry hated but somehow just could not help, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on singing with his “real” voice. Which was the reason why he hated cover songs in the first place. He felt limited to “playing” a certain character and was never able to infuse the performance with his own musical sensibility.

Terry was swaying a bit on his feet, his eyes noticeably bloodshot. He sat down, adjusted his microphone, took a deep breath and looked up. Everyone was standing in front of the stage, anxiously waiting for them to begin. His eyes were burning and he could not see quite right. His stomach was sinking, his knees buckling, and the back of his neck went cold. He could not go through with this. What had made him believe he could in the first place? Especially that damn song… Why had he chosen it? Because so long ago he had played it for Mia with Kurt himself? What had he been thinking? That he could master to sing words Kurt had written with Mia in mind? He felt hot. His mouth felt horribly dry and he became convinced he would not be able to sing. What he wanted was some J&B. Instead, he grabbed Joshua’s Evian bottle, took a long gulp, closed his aching eyes, kept the water in his mouth for a while, moving it around. He instantly felt better and opened his eyes. Candy was in front of him, her elbow resting on the stage. She was surrounded by Stear and Archibald, the later flanked by Frida Snape.

Candy smiled at him encouragingly.

“You can do this,” she said softly.

Terry smiled back, not sure if he managed to produce a half decent smile but guessing he did judging by her grin and the roar of applause coming from the crowd.

Terry looked back and nodded at Peter who slapped his drumsticks 1,2,3 and they started playing. Terry did not take his eyes off Candy for a second, finding the strength he needed to go on by looking into her sparkly eyes. He felt like it was only the two of them in the room. She was nodding her head approvingly, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the song. He became more confident in his playing and singing, not obsessing about sounding too much like Kurt anymore and somehow making the song his.

When it was over, the crowd applauded and whistled. The band members stood up and took a bow before making their exit off the stage. Going down the stairs, Terry came face to face with Neil Reagan.

“Don’t look so smug Grandchester…. You can sing like Cobain, so what? You have no merit imitating someone who banged your Mom and sister… It’s like sounding like your Dad. A fucking given.” Neil spat, his face contorted by a vicious smile. “Oh but wait, wasn’t Cobain bisexual? He did your entire family, didn’t he? Did he blow you or did you blow him? I bet he did… And you liked it!”

“You’re a sick bastard Reagan. Keep your disgusting remarks to yourself. I already told you to leave my family alone. Why are you so interested in our sexual life anyhow? Because you don’t have one of your own to worry about? Now get out off my way.”

“Where are you rushing? A hot date? In a hurry to bask in your glory? Well, let’s see how the rest of the evening will go for you.” Neil said knowingly, letting out a little laugh.

Had he not been in a rush to find Candy, Terry would have fought him till the bastard was hospital bound. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt:

“Listen to me you fucking dumb shit mother fucker! I know all about your little plot! It seems in addition to her legs your whore of sister can’t keep her mouth close. So you’ll find out that the slide projector is broken. Have fun playing DJ.” Terry shoved him out of his way and resumed his walk toward the dance floor, barely stopping to chat with people congratulating him.

He was searching for Candy. He saw the Dandy and was happy to see he was sharing a flirtatious talk with Frida and judging by the outrageously sexy black dress she wore, he doubted he would go anywhere. Frida was intent on making him his and he would be a fool not to go for it.

“Hi,” A little voice resounded behind him.

He quickly turned around and there she was. Smiling. Beautiful. She had some red lipstick on, and a bit of eyeliner.

“Well, hello stranger.” There was a faint quiver in his voice. Gosh did he feel wasted! “Nice tux.”

“Thanks! Archie insisted on taking me on a shopping spree…”

They were interrupted by a loud screech. Neil was struggling with his microphone. Laughter and booing erupted from the crowd.

“Hulloooo Saint-Paul!!!” Neil’s squeaky voice was rumbling. “Are you ready to roooock?”

“YEAH!!!!!” Came the thunderous answer.

“Damn it,” thought Terry. “Just when I’m finally talking to her, this asshole is going to spoil it by playing some loud crap.”

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bwu7ixmQk0c]YouTube - Guns N' Roses - November Rain: With Graphics

He had barely finished his thoughts when the opening of Guns and Roses November Rain was heard. Thanking his lucky star for Neil clumsiness as a DJ, Terry promptly asked:

“Would you do me the honor of this dance Freckles?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“I thought you’d never asked.” She answered, smiling more widely than ever.

Terry placed his hands firmly on Candy’s hips while she rested hers on his shoulders. They started swaying back and forth with the music. Axl Rose’s voice echoed in the room:

When I look into your eyes

I can see a love restrained

Terry still could not believe that in the end, Neil had been a big help by not only putting on a slow, but the longest one ever. As a bonus, the lyrics were so right for them that Terry felt he was dreaming.

But darlin' when I hold you

Don't you know I feel the same

He pulled Candy closer to him, circling her waist, and murmured:

“I missed you… What happened?”

She looked up to him. The happiness had drained from her face. She bit her lips hard.

“Tell me… It is visibly upsetting you….”

“Albert is my father!” She said it really fast, her mouth fighting to form the words.

“What the hell?” He would never have guessed that one. “Isn’t he a bit too young?”

“Not my biological father, silly. My adoptive father. He’s the great uncle William I heard so much about. William Albert Andrew. He adopted me when I was 14.”

“How did you find out?”

“On my birthday… I confronted him with all the information you had given me… He tried to weasel out of it but I would not drop it. So he spilled the beans. I was in shock. So were Archie and Stear. Archie was the first one to react. He shouted at Albert, calling him all kind of horrible names…”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

“It’s a long story… I went through pretty harsh times when I was living at the Reagan’s… And later on with the Andrews as well… Albert was my confident all along and knew about it all… Archie was incensed that he never did anything to make things easier for me … He accused him of being a coward, watching it all happen from afar… Irresponsible for adopting me but never caring for me directly… Blaming him for not attending Anthony’s funeral openly… And many other things… It was bad. I was also very angry but just could not let it out the way Archie did. I felt he deceived me all this time… Anyhow, he pulled us all out of school so that we could go back home to attend some stupid emergency family meeting… I don’t need to bore you with all that… And quite honestly, I don’t want to think about it…”

“I can imagine…” He hugged her even tighter and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Axl was still singing:

If we could take the time

To lay it on the line

I could rest my head

Just knowin' that you were mine

All mine

So if you want to love me

Then darlin' don't refrain

Or I'll just end up walkin'

In the cold November rain

Candy was caressing the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

Do you need some time...on your own

Do you need some time...all alone

Everybody needs some time...

On their own

Don't you know you need some time...all alone

“Are we cool?” Terry finally asked.

“Of course we are. I’m sorry I avoided you. It was stupid of me.”

“I can’t blame you. Like old Axl says, there are times when one needs to be on his own.”

She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears of thankfulness.

And when your fears subside

And shadows still remain

I know that you can love me

When there's no one left to blame

So never mind the darkness

We still can find a way

Terry lowered his head and kissed her lips ever so softly. Only then did he fully realize how much he had missed her all those weeks.

“Please don’t avoid me ever again like that. I thought I was going insane.”

“I won’t.” She looked at him intently, her eyes sparkling brightly under the disco lights. “Now kiss me like you mean it. Please.”

Terry readily obliged. Their lips met in an avid kiss. They were oblivious to the fact that the song was nearing to an end, several students were watching them, and jaws were dropping. Terry had rarely gone out with girls from school and when he had, he had never been opened about it, mostly because he did not really care about them and did not want to be labeled as their boyfriend. But Candy was another story… He was more than happy to let the world know –and especially Dandy Cornwell -that she was his.

Guns and Roses gave way to Ace of Base’s The Sign. The couple pulled apart, out of breath.

“I have to go back to my friends… I did not even congratulate Patricia yet.” Said Candy. ”Wanna join us?” She added, holding his hand in hers and starting to pull him after her as she walked away from the dance floor.

“No, thanks. And not to alarm you or anything but I think they are fine without you,” Terry said, pointing at Patricia dancing with Stear while Archibald was with Frida, seating at a table, canoodling. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel so good. I did some stupid things earlier on. I’m incredibly sleepy and am going to call it a night. “

“Terry! Are you OK? Did you take any drugs?” Her concern as always was genuine and made him want to kick himself for being such a weakling when it came to drugs and alcohol.

“I’m fine. No need to worry. It was nothing really bad.”

“Terry!! Any kind of drug IS bad!” She scolded him gently. “Let me go back with you then, or else I’ll worry about you… You’re right, my friends do not need me… And I wanna check on Annie… She did not come tonight… I hope she is OK…”

“There you are again, little miss I like to worry about others… Are you girls talking again?”

“Sort of… “ She answered evasively.

“Let’s go.” They walked to the entrance where several cabs were waiting. They settled comfortably into one, Candy resting her head on Terry’s shoulder.

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” Terry asked.

“Nothing exciting I’m afraid… Yours? I saw you brilliantly passed the finals despite your difficult circumstances. Congrats.”

“Thanks. I’m leaving tomorrow for Scotland. My father has a house over there. I like to go there to clear my mind. It’s beautiful. There’s a loch you can swim in and go boating on. You can come with me if you want.”

“What?” Candy stood up and looked at him

“You can spend summer at my place.” He repeated.

“Seriously?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“That’s a tempting offer but I don’t think Albert would let me… I have to attend summer school or I’ll be hold back… He gave me 2 options: either I go to Summer school in Scotland as a full time boardie or I only go part-time and stay at the Andrew’s mansion there, with the rest of the family. The boys will just be there for vacations but both Neil and Elisa will be attending summer school. Needless to say I’m choosing full time with the nuns over full time with those two. Annie and Patricia will also be there so I’m sure it will be fun. I wanted to go back to Pony’s home but my schoolwork has not been that great and the only way they will let me pass to the next grade up is by attending summer school. So I’ll only spend 2 weeks at Pony’s just before school starts in September. It sucks.”

“Well, if it can help, my place is straight across the loch from the summer school. So if you want, we’ll be able to hang out when you don’t have class, which is usually most afternoons.”

“I’d like that!”

”It will be fun, you’ll see. You’re going to love Scotland. The nature, the greenery. And plenty of trees for you Tarzan to climb on to!”

The cab stopped in front of Saint-Paul, preventing Candy to reply. Terry paid the fare and they walked through the gate. The night guard took them to their respective dorms.

They stopped in front of the girls’ first.

“Good night Candy. Thank you. I had a much better time than I initially expected.”

“Thank you! So I’ll see you in Scotland!” She said happily.

‘You sure will.”

“Good night!” She said, blowing him a kiss from the heel of her palm before disappearing into the building.

Terry stood there, transported. That girl had an effect on him he had never experienced before… Every time he laid his eyes on her, he just knew she was IT. And he knew she felt the same. He was wondering if that feeling would remain once they had sex… Even though it had killed him, he had several times pushed back the inevitable. Why? He could not quite explain it… Maybe because he felt that the circumstances had not been right… But he somehow sensed that Scotland would be a different story.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER 16

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SCOTTISH BORDERS - JULY 18TH 1994

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Terry woke up with a start and looked at the radio clock on his bedside table: 1 p.m.

“Damn it!” He thought, promptly getting up, running to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Today was the first day of summer school for the Saint-Paul students. They had arrived the previous evening and Candy had given him a call. They had agreed he would come to pick her up after her classes, at 2p.m.

He had been quite busy during those three weeks alone here, between obsessively working on a new song at the piano, and the gruesome task –assigned by Vivian who wanted not a single reminder of Mia to remain- of clearing off what had been Miaʼs bedroom. Mercifully, since she had never stayed for any extensive amount of time, there had not been too much stuff. A few clothing items left behind, some toiletries and that was about it.

What had been much harder to deal with had been the note she had left inside one of his dresser drawer, among old magazines and CDs (Mia had the habit to leave behind hand-written notes in the craziest places, for the owner to find after her departure).

Hello handsome Bro!!!!! I love you!!!!! I enjoyed this week in Scotland! When youʼll read this, know Iʼll be missing you and our walks by the loch. Kisses. Mia




She must have written it the previous summer… Eleanor had been shooting a movie in the highlands and the twins had spent an entire week alone at the Grandchesterʼs manor. It had been a quiet and happy week, what Terry in retrospect considered one of his fondest memories with his sister. They had swam, gone on hikes, rode horses, played music and Mia had drawn a portrait of him that was now leaning against his wall…. He had meant to hang it but had not gotten around doing so yet.




He had also read the Romeo and Juliet screenplay Jeff had sent him as promised. Terry had immediately fallen in love with the script, a modernization of Shakespeareʼs play, designed to appeal to the MTV audience, but still using the original dialogue, though somewhat edited down. Swords had been replaced by guns. The Montagues and the Capulets were of course the same bitter enemies, in the form of two warring business empires.




Terry was drawn to the angst-filled scenes. Romeo was in shambles emotionally most of the time and he found it to be something he really wanted to play and knew he could be good at it. He had always thought of the character of Romeo as a boring, fluffy, romantic type but this modern version had made him realize how wrong he had been: Romeo had more depth than the usual romantic character. He was a guy who risked his entire life, his family, absolutely everything that mattered to him, to marry the girl he loved. It was the ultimate love story, a pure masterpiece really, a depiction of a love so strong nothing could prevent the two young lovers from being together. And the fact that they were basically his own age was also attractive.

Jeff had scribbled a note:

Quick tip: this is not going to be like theater. Baz Luhrmann –the director who also co-wrote the screenplay- wants the dialogue to be conversational, with no affectation whatsoever. I know you can do it. They have already cast Claire Danes as Juliet. I spoke with her and sheʼs enthusiastic about you. She has fond memories of you from the time she was working with Eleanor and said sheʼd love to work with you. Baz is willing to give you a try, given Claireʼs enthusiasm, even though his first choice is Leo Di Caprio. So no need to think youʼll get the part because of me. I have no pull whatsoever. Youʼll have to earn the role son.




Also, they are rounding up amazing artists for the soundtrack. Mostly alternative stuff. One of Miaʼs songs made the cut: her Lovefool song, the one with the very poppy beat she was not too fond of. Are you cool with it being used? If not, let me know and Iʼll put a stop to it. She recorded it back in October at my place. At her request I had sent a demo tape to various people and had forgotten about it with all the shit we went through. It somehow ended in Bazʼs hands. Iʼm enclosing a CD of it.





Take care Terry. Donʼt hesitate to call me for anything.





Love you.

 


Jeff




Terry has listened to the CD countless times already. He had had a panic attack the first time he had heard Miaʼs voice coming out from the speakers, echoing throughout the old manor. Pleading to be loved. He had balled up in a corner and cried, his head buried in his knees. He had doubted at first he could bear to hear it ever again and considered calling Jeff but he caved in and after listening to it over and over, it became like an old friend and instead of crying like a girl, he found comfort in listening to Miaʼs familiar voice. She was gone but there was something left of her, something concrete.




So that was what he had been busy with since his arrival, going to bed around 3am every night and sleeping in.




He got out of the shower, put on a t-shirt and some jeans, walked down the stairs to the kitchen where Irene was busy preparing lunch.




“Good morning Irene!”




“Good afternoon Terry.” The middle-aged woman smiled gently at him. “Lunch is almost ready.”




“I have to run. A friend of mine is in summer school. Iʼll eat on my way there.” He grabbed one of the cucumber sandwiches and walked out to the courtyard. He was on his way to the garage to get his motorcycle when he noticed a figure standing by the gate.




He stopped in his tracks. The person had seen him and was calling out to him in a voice he knew too well:




“Terry! Please! I just want to talk for a few minutes. Please.” His mother, holding on to the wrought iron gate, cried out in a desperate voice.




Reluctantly, Terry slowly made his way down the driveway. As he got closer, he realized how bad of a shape she was in but strangely did not find any comfort in knowing she was suffering. She had lost a lot of weight and looked very bony. Her skin was pale and sallow. Her long blond hair usually perfectly styled was all ratty looking, hanging around her face, her complexion was gray. She was wearing an old Rolling Stones T-shirt and white jeans. She wore her usual oversized sunglasses that she removed when Terry got closer to him. Her blue eyes seemed empty. She gave him a weak smile.




“Thank you.” She said, extending her hands through the wrought-iron gate to touch him but he made sure to stay away from her grip.




“Arenʼt you going to let me in?” She asked, tears filling her eyes.




“No. What do you want?” He said coldly.




“Terry… Please… Let me hold you…” She pleaded, her voice breaking into heavy sobs. She looked nothing like the classy beauty she used to be. She was pathetic. Terry opened the gate and she ran into his arms, holding him tight. After an awkward moment, Terry closed his arms around her. They remained locked in a strange embrace, neither of them talking.




“What do you want?” Terry finally asked, pushing her away.




“I want my son. I want us to spend the summer together as we always did.”




“What do you mean, like we always did? You were always busy and barely spent more than 3 hours with me! As a matter of fact, if I were to add up the time spent with you since I was born, it would probably add up to 2 years at the most!”




“Terry… Please… There is no point talking about the past. Nothing can be done about it. We need to concentrate on the future… I want you to be a part of it. I need you. I lost my daughter and I could not stand losing my son.” Tears sprung to her eyes.




“Donʼt you dare calling her daughter. Youʼre not fit to. You never acted like a mother to her. Or to me. “ Terry became enraged. He was walking back and forth, kicking the gravel around, gesturing while talking louder and louder. “You kept holding her down. You kept bringing shit in her life. And when you brought something good like Jeff, you had to fuck it up. And you ultimately killed her by letting your junkie boyfriend leave his dope laying around.”




“Shut up!” Eleanor was screaming hysterically, covering her ears with her trembling hands.




“No, I wonʼt shut up! The truth hurt, doesnʼt it? “ Terry scorned. “The fact is that if you had still been with Jeff, there would not have been heroine in the house and Mia would still be here. She is fucking dead and it is all because of you.“




Eleanorʼs hand hit his cheek with a force he did not expect. It immediately began throbbing.

“Donʼt you dare talk to me like this! Iʼm your mother!”

“I donʼt have a mother! Get out of here.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out. She fell head first on the ground. She rolled on to her back, covered her face with her hands and let out a loud howl. Terry locked the gate and walked away toward the house, ignoring her screams.

*************




He walked toward the lake, cursing his luck: the episode with his mother had delayed him enough for Candy to be gone when he had arrived at the school. So he had decided to grab a battered copy of Romeo and Juliet to reacquaint himself with the original story and read by the water, which was one of his favorite activity.




Much to his surprise, he found Candy sitting there, on what he had always thought of as HIS spot, busy talking to herself.




“Nobody seems to be as troubled as Terry… He has so many problems…. I wonder where he is… Terry… Terrence G. Grandchester….”




“How sweet! Even when youʼre alone, youʼre thinking of me. You must have missed me a lot. Isnʼt that so, my little funny nosed girl? ” He teased her, kneeling down next to her, enjoying the embarrassing look on her face from having been caught daydreaming aloud about him.




“Terry… You… “ She looked at him, smiling nervously. “Listen Terry…”




“What is it Freckles?” He asked, affectionately touching the tip of her nose with his pointer finger.




“Donʼt go on thinking Iʼm obsessed about you… Maybe I was summoning some dark magic to put a spell on you and make you come here…”




“I see… You think you need magic to charm me? Arenʼt you confident enough in your freckles and funny nose?” He teased, taking a strand of her hair between his fingers.




Her amused expression gave way to an upset one.




“Terry! I canʼt believe it! Weʼve not seen each other for a month, you stood me up and now all you can think of is make fun of me!” She shouted, jumping on him in a weak attempt to strangle him.




“Ok, Ok, Iʼm sorry. I surrender.” He said, holding her off by her shoulders and grabbing her hand. “Come on. Letʼs sit down. Iʼm really sorry I missed you in school. I was running late. I may not look like it but I was really impatient to see you.”




“Really?” She looked at him doubtfully.




“Really. I missed you.” He smiled.




“Fine.” She blushed. “Then I forgive you for your mean comments.”




“You are always so prompt to pick up a fight, arenʼt you? I like that a lot about you.” He said, looking at her. He wanted to kiss her and was about to lean over when she abruptly bent down to reach out for the book he had dropped.




“Is this your book?” She gave him a quizzical look.




“ Yes.” He said.




“Shakespeare… Romeo and Juliet… I did not know you liked theater.”




“There is a lot you donʼt know about me Candy. I love acting. Ever since I was a kid, Iʼve always enjoyed pretending Iʼm someone else… In real life, our choices are limited whereas with acting, there is no limit. We can be a prince one day, a pauper the next.”




“Or a devil and an angel…” She said knowingly.

“A devil who loves freckled girls.” He answered, finally taking her into his arms and kissing her vigorously. He had missed her immensely and feeling her against him felt good. No, it felt more than good. It felt like coming back home after a long journey. She must have felt the same way for she was responding to his kiss with fervor, running her fingers through his hair. He was biting her lips softly, his tongue teasing hers, his hands running feverishly all over her body.

“Candy…. Iʼve missed you…” He murmured inside her neck, his warm breath caressing her soft, white as porcelain, skin.

She placed a kiss on top of his head.

“Itʼs good to be here in your arms. It feels right.” She admitted in a voice heavy with excitement.

Terry was now trailing his tongue along her collarbone, feeling her shivering in his arms when a loud yell was heard:

“ELISA!!!!”

They broke their embrace and stood up. There was a small boat turned over. Clinging on to it for dear life was Neil Reagan. His sister was a few feet away, screaming. Neil seemed paralyzed and was not making any attempt to help his sister.

“Help! Some one help me!” Came the hysterical scream from Elisa.

There was another boat nearby but its three passengers seemed to purposefully ignore the tragedy that was unfolding.

Without even thinking twice, Terry kicked his shoes off, threw off his shirt and pants before jumping in the water in his black boxers, the adrenaline rush rending him oblivious to the bitter cold water that killed his budding erection. As he got closer to the scene, he saw that the other boat had reached Neil and that its passengers who were none other than the Dandy, his brother and Patricia OʼBrien were helping him up.

Terry quickly reached Elisa who immediately grabbed on to him, her nails digging into his chest.

“Oh Terrence. Thank you. “

“Let go of me. Youʼre going to drown us both. Stop moving, would you. Iʼm going to bring you ashore.”

She mercifully let go of him and he was able to get a good hold of her and slowly made his way back to the shore where Candy was waiting for them. She had been joined by a sheepish looking Neil, flanked by Patricia, Archibald and Stear.

Terry helped Elisa out and the two of them reached the rest of the group who was looking puzzled.

“I canʼt believe that between the three of you, no one tried to help the poor girl.” Terry said scornfully.

Archibald became furious and spat out:

“For your information, Iʼm a very good swimmer, we all are. Including Elisa.”

It was Terryʼs turn to be puzzled. Elisa nestled herself into his arms, pressing herself against his bare chest.

“You know how to swim?” He asked, feeling like he had been played.

“Of course not! I was about to drown!” She said. “And you guys are useless, what would you have done if Terry had not jump in to save me?” She screamed at them. “And can someone pass me a towel!” Patricia threw her one. Elisa caught it without a word of thanks. Instead, she returned her attention to Terry. “Thank you Terrence, you saved me life,. I owe you big time.” she said, smiling seductively while running a hand up and down his chest, prompting him to hastily put his shirt back on.

“Terrence… Youʼre all wet. Why donʼt you come to my place. You could use our dryer for your clothes.”

“Sheʼs right Terry. Youʼre going to catch a cold.” Candy said softly, making her way toward Terry with a blanket but she was blocked by Elisa who gave her a threatening look.

“Itʼs nice of you but Iʼd rather go home. Itʼs closer than your place anyway.” He said, buttoning his pants and proceeding to walk away.

“Wait! Iʼm coming with you.” Said Elisa.

“There is no need. I do not have the help required to take care of you and your clothes.”

“Elisa, letʼs get you home.” Said Neil, who looked uncomfortable.

“Bye Candy. Iʼll call you.” Terry added, before running off.

Damn that stupid Elisa. First his mother and now that idiot… What a day! The encounter with Candy had almost succeeded in making it better. He was kicking himself for having fallen for Elisaʼs fake drowning but he had let his instinct take over.

He reached the gate and realized the bad day was not over just yet. His mother was still there, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

“What are you doing here? “

“Terry… Please…” She started.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that I do not want to see you ever again!”

“Terry… I…”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! Youʼre no one for me. I donʼt have a mother. Go away.”

“Terry, listen. I did not have a choice. I could not let that crazy mistake destroy everything Iʼd worked so hard to build.”

“So thatʼs how you refer to your own daughter? A crazy mistake… You bitch! You do not even have the guts to face what happened and accept responsibility for it. SHE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! Do you understand? You denying it does not make it any less true! And you should act like a normal person and tell Dad and Jeff about it. Iʼm not asking you to tell the world. Just tell them, so that they know who you really are.”

“I know Terry… Iʼm sorry… Do you think it is easy for me to live knowing what I did? Do you think youʼre the only one who misses her? She was my daughter, she lived with me all this time. But it is not fair to make me guilty of it all. She had her fair share of blame.”

“Shut up!”

“Terry… Mia was disturbed… I loved her but she had so many issues…”

“YOU were her main issue!”

“Itʼs not true. Drugs were her main issue. Her inability to face any problem that would arise. Her obsession with Kurt…”

“Oh yeah, letʼs talk about Kurt! Youʼre the one who brought him into the house, did you not? Youʼre the one who left him alone with Mia, are you not? Donʼt tell me it came as a surprise they eventually hooked up! I saw that coming from miles away! You cannot be that stupid!”

“Terry… I never forced her to fuck him! It was HER choice, certainly not mine. How do you think I felt when I saw them! In my own house!”

“You felt jealous that he was banging her when he had stopped banging you! Thatʼs how you felt. Iʼve heard enough. Go away.” He said, opening the gate.

Eleanor reached for his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

“Terry…”

“Shut up!” He turned around and pushed her away from him. “Iʼve had enough! Go back to where you came from!”

“ENOUGH!” A high-pitch scream interrupted. Terry turned around and there stood Candy, holding his copy of Romeo & Juliet clutched into her hands. “Stop it Terry! Stop lying to yourself!”

“Candy…”

“The truth is that you love your mother. You adore her. I know how you feel Terry... This is why youʼre acting this way, saying all these things you do not really think…”

“You donʼt know squad Candy! Stay out of this.”

“If I had a Mom Iʼd be happy she comes to visit me!”

“Then you can have her!”

“Terry… please… Make up with her…” She urged.

“Stay out of this Candy. It does not concern you.”

“Heʼs right young lady. But I do appreciate your words.” Said Eleanor. “Iʼm leaving. Bye Terry. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She said sadly, walking away toward her car.

Candy and Terry stood in silence, watching the actress get in her car and slowly drive away.

“Iʼm sorry Terry… I came to bring back your book… I did not mean to interfere…”

“Itʼs Ok. Thank you.” He took the book.

“I have to go. Bye Terry. Iʼll see you around.”

“Wait! Wanna come have some tea?”

“No, thanks. I better go. Iʼm expected back at 6pm…. Take care Terry… And please think about your Mom… We only have one Mom… Donʼt shut her off your life. You may regret it.” With that, she ran away.

Terry watched her disappear into the woods surrounding his property. He walked into the house, entered the smoking room, lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. His hands were shaking badly. He was boiling with anger. Anger not at his Mom but at his life. What had he ever done to deserve this? Why couldnʼt he have normal parents? Or no parents at all, like Candy who seemed so much better adjusted than he was… Her words were echoing in his head: “We only have one Mom… Donʼt shut her off your life…”

The fact that he was once again feeling sorry for himself and putting the blame for his behavior on his parents infuriated him. It was like his months of therapy had been all for nothing. He threw his glass against the stone fireplace, where it crashed into pieces. He then grabbed every single alcohol bottle in the bar and threw them as well.

When there was no bottle left, he went to the laundry room, grabbed a bucket, a mop and made his way toward the fireplace where he proceeded to clean up the mess he had created, oblivious to the small pieces of glass piercing his skin. The room was reeking of alcohol. He kept ruffling his hair with a bloody and smelly hand, using his shirt as a napkin.

Once he was done, he went into his bedroom and stared blankly at his reflection.




“Terrence Grandchester youʼre a pathetic loser,” he said to his reflection. His hair was matted with a mixture of blood and alcohol, his fingers were burning from the small glass pieces still stuck there. “What are you doing? Get a grip.“ He bit his lips hard and tasted his own blood. “I canʼt…” He curled up on his bed, holding his knees up against his chest and exploded into bitter tears.