WELCOME!!!!!!

Welcome one and all to my new, long-overdue fic, London Calling. It's been a long time coming and it's probably not worth the wait, but we'll see how we go!

RATING: NC17, there isn't any *ahem* sex or anything, just some pretty strong language which I have no intention of editing or censoring, so read at your own peril.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

First off, I need to make a couple of acknowledgements. To my dear Ambrosia, who gave me the name Jaylee, "just a couple of hippie vowel sounds stuck together", for my main character. Love you!!

And most of all to the lovely Mena. Many months ago I jotted down this little prologue, sent it to Mena and said "Now what the hell happens next????" and like a good little muse, she delivered the goods that made up what you read here. So if there's anything you like in this fic (anything at all) send your compliments her way, not mine! lol

And lastly to the lovely Jaylee Elizabeth Ryan, our darling protagonist. If Jaime in 'La Ville de Lumieres' was my inner responsible adult and Jaime in 'Intimate Portrait' was my inner self-destructive bitch, then Jaylee is DEFINITELY my inner drama queen! Be gentle with her, you never know what she'll say next...lol

DISCLAIMER: I don't know any of the celebs mentioned in this fic, and I don't own them as characters, or the girls who have kindly accepted to appear in this. I'm also making no profit from this little adventure and I mean NO OFFENCE WITH ANYTHING THAT APPEARS IN THIS, whether it be the language, any connotations towards homosexuals, or anything. Please don't yell at me!!

And without further ado, I give you...the prologue!

:love:

LONDON CALLING

Prologue

“There’s no easy way to tell you this,” he’d said, as we stood on a small stone bridge that crossed the River Thames, “but the fact of the matter is that I’m getting married.”

A thousand fantasies of me throwing myself off the bridge and into the churning brown depths below flooded over me, and to tell you the truth, I can’t even remember my response. Exactly what does one do in that situation? Was I supposed to hug him joyously at the news, or maybe turn on my heel and walk away with my head held high and my dignity still intact? I do know that I DIDN’T throw myself off that bridge; otherwise I wouldn’t be here now, would I? Obviously.

Somehow I made it back to my house, and up to my room. I managed to open my notebook and locate a pen, and jot down these lines. So now what happens? Do I intend to go all Bridget Jones and start keeping a diary of my thoroughly exciting love life, and the singles scene in modern, fascinating London? I don’t know. Maybe.

Let’s begin with a little character analysis. And let’s try this in the third person, shall we, just for something a little different.

The facts:

Name: Jaylee Elizabeth Ryan
Age: 22
Birthplace: London, England
Starsign: Aries
Country of Residence: Australia, generally
Hair colour: Red
Eye colour: Grey-green
Height: 5 feet
Weight: 52 kilograms (I know, if I’m in London I should use pounds, but honestly, it’s just so confusing!)
Distinguishing marks: Two birthmarks on my right breast, a small scar on my left forearm, and nothing else of any interest
Vices: Cigarettes, alcohol, sugar. Hell, I’m a young woman, what the fuck did you expect?

Reports indicate that Jaylee is a slightly neurotic, slightly self-obsessed, slightly insecure young woman of an intelligence that could be greater than it actually is if she ever got off her arse and bothered to use it. She can bullshit her way through any conversation with a predominate use of her blessed eyelashes, and she avoids subjects of a political variety for fear of making herself look like a moron. She lacks direction in her life, despite her almost uncanny maturity, and has a slightly obsessive nature when her over-active mind gets fixed on an object, idea or person. She also uses curse words as a defence mechanism, as you will notice. Close your eyes and ears if you are of the easily-offended variety of human being.

There, have I painted a clear enough picture of myself yet? I think so. I probably should have mentioned in there that I can be a little self-deprecating too, and have a tendency to use long words and intricate sentences, which is a direct result of having been half-raised in London’s high society, as well as being a large fan of Jane Austen.

So, I hear you ask. Just how the hell did I end up on an unnamed bridge over the Thames, with a man who gave me the unwelcome news that he was getting married? Well, I guess that’s my story to tell, isn’t it. And tell it I shall.

What the hell. I’ve got nothing else to do, anyway.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

oh well, about damn! I have been checking my computer on the past two days for this,even if I still know that delicious prologue of yous and Jaylee is already quite a stable (yet amusing!) presence in my head.

You cannot resist acting all dramaish and adding your flair to disclaimers, can you? There's no chance ONE LINE of yours could come unnoticed!

And, babe, thanks for mentioning me, although I don't deserve compliments at all. Twas an honor and flattery to be asked for your help, although you know i wish I'd helped you more.

For ther readers: I have NO CLUE of who the man on the bridge is, so don't even try to ask, ok???

Now... you already know I love this! You put the cliffhanger at the beginning and then flash back... and it's the basic of all spy stories, but it's not common in drama and romance, and I wonder why.. I mean, it's so brilliant!

Eh, It WAS worth the wait, you know it? Sure you know, you're just playing it rough, ain't you?

:hugs:

You know Jaime, I've heard great things about your writings and when I saw people sporting the banners, I decided to read this when you posted and I'm glad I paid attention to those banners because I really like it so far.

I'm not much for mystery, I'll be the first to admit, however, this is great so far. You've brought us in this story and left us wanting more. Stories that catch your attention are worth the wait and are ones that people come back to later on.

Anyhoo lol, I really like this so far and I can't wait to see more :)

Katie

I've always loved your stories lil' one, and most of the time because there's something Je ne se que that intrigues me, and makes me love it a lot.

I can't what to read this! I bet it deserves all the time we waited for it, reading your siggy one time and another... The fact that you used four men to play with the main character, it's the ultimate girl's dream!!!

I'll be reading, so wait for me ;)

Andie

Suffice to say, wow, I've been really really excited to see another of your stories, honey. And this, wow again. Like Mena said, the prologue-to-flashback isn't something you see often in drama, but it builds the suspense right from the start, perfectly. Now, we just have to decide if we like this immediate suspense, being impatient readers who want to know everything. ;)

I can't wait to see how you'll unfold the characters and everything. Your banner intrigues me... Hmm.

:heartbeat:
Samma

Flails in glee....pauses...and then flails some more!

:yahoo pulpfiction I've been waiting for this!!!!!!! Gosh, I can't even say how happy I am to see it up, how pumped I am to have another Jess fic to become obsessed with, how joyous I feel to know that there shall be more plotlines I will fall into! This is so great! *bounces*

First of all, I love the style! It is already so witty and funny with a perfect aura of sarcasm. I was grinning like a fool through the whole thing, nodding my head and loving every second of it!

This line brought to me inexplicable hilarity. I'm sorry, it was just such a thought that would pop into my head at a similar moment. :laugh:

*whispers* I do that too sometimes. A girl I can relate with, fo sure! :love:

And, you are most welcome for the name...it is one that would definitely be a staple right down round here in the South. ;-)

I cannot wait for moreeeeee!

I too have heard great things about your writings Jamie and I always wanted to read something by you, but I wanted it to be something relatively new so I coudl jump right into and be in the loop on everything. Anyways, I really loved how you started this and I can not wait to read more, you got me hooked like a little kid to candy! :lol: I want to desperately know (like everyone else in here) of who the man on the bridge is and that is what, next to your amazing writing style, is going to keep me hooked on reading it. Please update soon and I am really loving this! ;-)
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Thankies girls, you're the best! :)


Chapter 1

In my life I’ve spent many an hour in Heathrow Airport, but it’s only in the last few years that I’ve started to marvel at how much it DOESN’T remind me of the film Love Actually. It was the in-flight film on my way over here about two years ago, and ever since then I’ve started looking for familiar little things…the glass window the little boy yelled through, and such, but there’s nothing at all. Shit job for those filmmakers, huh? But despite that little annoying fact, I do know the airport quite well, and I’m perfectly comfortable in collecting my luggage, joining the queue outside, and instructing the taxi driver all by myself. Good thing too, ‘cuz no one knows I’m here.

Okay, that’s a lie. People know I’m here. People BACK HOME know I’m here; they’re just a little surprised at the abruptness of my leaving. What I mean to say is that no one in LONDON knows I’m here, and I’m suddenly apprehensive about that fact. My plan had been to stay with my dad, who lives here, which is a good plan to be sure, except that I’m not entirely certain that he’s going to be home.

But that’s okay, there’s a contingency. My friend Dominic lives just across the street from my dad, and if father-dearest isn’t home, all I have to do is head across there and wait for him.

But what if Dom isn’t home either? This thought plagues me as the taxi weaves through the heavy afternoon traffic. These streets always grow familiar to me after a time, and then somehow remove themselves from my memory the minute I get back on the plane to go home. It’s been at least eight months since I’ve come to visit, and they’re still foreign and unwelcome so far, and as darkness begins to fall, my unease begins to grow.

There is a good chance that every single person I know in London isn’t here, and I’ll be left alone to starve and freeze to death on the streets. Or maybe dad is home, but doesn’t want to see me. Maybe he’s incredibly busy doing whatever it is he does when I’m not here, and I’m actually interrupting his life by showing up unannounced. Or maybe he moved house…no, he wouldn’t do that, not without giving me his new address. Would he? Maybe he would. And maybe he changed his phone number as well, and maybe he hasn’t had a chance to tell me because it all happened REALLY SUDDENLY, during the twenty three hours I was fucking around on connecting flights, and when the taxi stops I’ll be all alone on the street, while my dad is lost somewhere in this strange, grey city…

“This the house?” the taxi driver asks, and his voice breaking into my panicked reverie makes me jump. I look up. The house hasn’t changed, and dad’s car is still parked out the front. Unless the new owners have the same car…it could happen, you know.

“Yes,” I reply, finding it difficult to speak through my dry throat. “Thank you.” I pay him quickly and drag my suitcase out of the car, my skin crawling with nervous goosebumps and my heart beating loudly. There’s no reason to be this nervous, I try and tell myself. Everything’s fine. There’s a light on in the front entranceway, and the car is outside. He’s here, and of course he’ll be glad to see me. I’m his one and only daughter, daddy’s unashamed little girl. He’s always glad to see me.

I drag my suitcase up the front steps – even having left in such a hurry I managed to pack my entire wardrobe – and knock on the door. There are still queasy butterflies in my stomach, and I take a deep breath as someone approaches the door. I’m all prepared with a big grin and a bounding hug for my dad as the door swings open…to reveal a woman about my age, with dark hair and eyes, staring at me expectantly.

“Can I help you?” she asks quizzically. I open my mouth and close it again a few times, unsure of what to say. Why is there a strange young woman in my dad’s house? Oh God, maybe I was right. Maybe he did move. Oh Goddammit Fuck. But after a few moments of silence, her eyes suddenly widen. “Oh my God, you’re Jaylee!”

I nod dumbly, and she takes me arm and leads me inside. “I can’t believe it, this is a surprise!” she’s saying, helping me pull my mammoth suitcase inside. “Come on in, I’m Lilah by the way, it’s so nice to meet you!”

I’m still silent and dumbstruck as she helps me remove my coat and leads me into the living room. “Colin, look!” she calls.

My dad has been sitting on the couch with his back to me, and he gives a startled jump as he turns to find me standing in the doorway. “Jaylee!” he says quickly, getting to his feet. Is it me, or was that a flash of guilt that just crossed his eyes? “What on earth are you doing here?”

He moves to give me a hug, which I accept with some confusion. I seem to have entered some sort of twilight zone, where everything LOOKS just the way it always has, but there’s something ever so slightly wrong. Then I realise what the ‘wrong’ thing is. On the couch beside my father had been sitting a woman, older than myself, and most probably Lilah’s mother. Realisation dawns, although I’m trying hard to wrap myself in a shroud of denial.

“What are you doing here?” my dad asks again. He’s grinning like a British idiot, so at least I know he’s happy to see me. “Are you staying?”

“Um, yes, if that’s alright,” I manage to reply, still finding it difficult to speak. “I…there’s some…stuff happening back home, and I just thought…well, it might be nice to get away for awhile…”

He’s still grinning, and slightly blustering about. Don’t judge him, he’s British. He was just born that way. “Of course it’s alright, you’re always welcome. Your room is still set up, ready for you…now come, I want you to meet someone.”

Oh fuck, please no. Please, anything but this…I promise God, I’ll never take your name in vain again…

“Jaylee, I’d like you to meet Maria, and her daughter Lilah. Remember, I told you about them.”

Yes, I remember.

“And well, I guess this is a bit of a surprise, I haven’t told you yet because it’s all just happened very suddenly but…well, Maria and Lilah have moved in.”

Jesus bloody Christ fuck.

Dad is finally wrapping up his speech, as Maria and Lilah smile at me with nothing short of malice and judgement in their eyes. “So it looks like we’re all one big happy family now.” He puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and we all just stare at each other for a long moment.

Well, I think we’re off to a great start.

That is such a nice welcome home gift to his daughter. "Hi honey, glad your here and meet your new mom and sister!" God that effing sux. I loved the chapter though how she was freaking out, I don't know how many times I have had those thoughts go through my head at times like that. I loved it and that was a bloody brilliant chapter and update soon!
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Poor Jaylee, I kinda know how that feels, and yes it does suck. But I do like it Jaime :)

Can't wait to see more :)

Katie

So Jaylee and Lilah are sisters..!! Basicallly... aren't they?

Am I the only one that felt like in Love Actually when I got into the airport? Maybe it was because of the fact that I had boyfriend and he was waiting for me. But I used to felt like that until now when I realize that I don't see any Hugh Grant by my side so I can't feel like that anymore :lmao:.

Anyway... I'm liking the start of this story, this twist makes me think about the possible men that could be over the bridge... Interesting game Lil' sister.


(Can I take you your offer about the essay? I wrote about why I'd like to go to New Zealand to study so I might need some help, I want to write more essays so I get to choose from them, but thank you for offering :) )

Andie

Squee!

:wub: Oh, I have been giggling and grinning madly over here. Her sarcasm makes me happy to be alive. The way she thinks...it is soo hilarious! And, gotta say, this panicky moment...

Sounds so much like my OCD brain when I start overanalyzing something. Love it! Made me laugh so hard. :yes:

So, adore Jaylee with my whole soul and am thinking the surprise announcement about Maria and Lilah moving in could lead to some awesome hijinks. teehee. I am so pumped to fall into this story!

I can totally see Jaylee rant like that, scrunching her face to emphasize the capital words with a serious expression. Plus I loved the Love Actually reference, that movie always puts a smile on my face! Bill Nighy cracks me up big time!

Oh, and I would have loved to see the expression on her face, and on Colin's, when she arrved. bet twas a 'oh-no-you-didn't' one from both parts.

But hey, Lilah is the best stepsister you could get, AND you can swap clothes!

Squee. you girls make me so happy!!! *hugs*


Chapter 2

The thing about my family is that we’re dysfunctional as hell. When my parents met twenty five years ago, my mother already had a four-year-old son, Brian, with her first husband. They’d divorced a year before, and mum happened to be travelling through London after visiting some relatives and met my dad in a pub. Dad is now the managing director of a big theatre company on West End, but back then he was just a humble actor with that same company, and he invited mum to see his current show (Hamlet, which I now can’t think of without disgust), and the rest as they say is history. I was born a year later, and for the next five they travelled back and forth between London and Melbourne. They never married, a fact that is a constant source of disgrace to my dad’s distinguished, upper-class parents, who were already a little pissed that their only son had decided to become a lowly ACTOR, but which made it a lot easier when they decided to split up. Apparently it was all very amicable – I would live most of the year with mum and Brian (whose own father had moved to America) and a couple of weeks during the summer and the winter school holidays I would spend with my dad in London.

Mum is remarried now, and I have another younger brother, Paul, who is a general pain in the ass. Dad has dated a couple of women over the years…two, I think, were quite serious, but none of them have worked out. And I guess I’ve kind of become accustomed to having my dad all to myself. So to arrive here and find that he’s MOVED IN with a woman I’ve never even met before…well, you can understand my general angst.

Maria and Lilah are staring at me as if I’m some strange alien creature come to invade their comfortable little world, and as much as my dad is trying to make the situation as normal as possible, nothing can keep away the tension that’s settled over the house. I excuse myself to freshen up – I have been on planes for twenty three hours – and escape to the comfort of my familiar old bedroom.

There’s nothing odd in here, no skeletons in this closet. No presence of strangers to disturb the familiarity. Just as dad promised, it’s all set up and ready for use – the beds made and everything’s been dusted recently, even my old teddy sits at attention on the bed. Poor Teddy. When I was younger I used to leave him here to keep my dad company when I went home after a visit, and as much as I missed the little bear terribly, I always thought that he would do dad more good than me. When I went home I had my mum and my stepdad and my two brothers to keep me company, whereas I thought my dad would get awfully lonely all by himself here.

Hmmph. Look how much I know. Obviously he hasn’t needed Teddy to keep him company.

I shower and change, feeling like an unwelcome guest in my own second-home. Oh sure, my dad welcomes me, it’s just Maria and Lilah I’m not sure about. This is THEIR house now, their family home.

Well screw them, says a nasty little voice as I step out of the shower. I was here first. So there.

I think an emergency international phone call is in order. My brother Brian picks up on the third ring, his voice sleepy and dense. “Lee, there’s a fucking time difference,” he says, psychically knowing it’s me before I say a word. A few years ago he moved to America to become a pro basketball player, and with trying to keep up on time differences in London and Los Angeles, I tend to get confused, throw caution to the wind, and just call Brian and my dad whenever the hell I feel like it. Hell, if they don’t want to talk to me, they can easily just not pick up the phone.

“I know,” I reply quickly. “But I’m in London and I’m even more confused with the differences.”

I know he’s awake now. “What are you doing in London?” he asks. His voice has this weird hybrid Australian-American accent going on. “Lee, is this really a good time for you to be visiting your dad?”

“Yes!” I say defensively. “It’s a perfect time. In fact, I’m staying indefinitely. But that’s not the point…” Brian is starting to protest, but I rush on. “You’ll never guess what. My dad has a girlfriend.”

I can practically hear Brian rolling his eyes. “We know that, stupid. Maria Something-or-Other. And she has a daughter.”

“I know we know.” After the initial shock of finding two strange women in my dad’s house, I did eventually remember that yes, he had told me about them. He just hadn’t told me about them moving in. “But they fucking live together now. All three of them. In my dad’s house. In MY house. Suddenly I’m a stranger under my own roof, it’s like they’ve all set up this cosy little house and I’m not a part of their perfect little family. They look at me like I’m this complete stranger…”

Brian cuts off my crazy rant. “Lee, get over it. It had to happen sometime, didn’t it? I’m sure they’re perfectly lovely and you’ll all get along fine. Now just stop being such a goddamn drama queen, and you might find that you actually like them. Goodnight.”

And he’s hung up on me, the bastard.

Well, there’s nothing for it. I should go face them, no matter that every fibre in me is screaming with jetlag and just wants to crawl into my neatly made bed (which was always so much more comfortable than my one at home) and cuddle up with dear old Teddy and go to sleep. I sigh. No time like the present.

I place the phone back on its hook on the bedside table, and pull my bedroom door open. Lilah has taken the room across the hall from me (Maria is obviously sleeping in my dad’s room, a thought that makes me sick to the stomach) and as I enter the hall she steps out of her room at the same time. I immediately blush. I was making no attempt at speaking quietly on the phone – did she overhear my conversation? One look at her identical blush tells me that yes, she did. Fuck.

“Feeling better?” she asks, an attempt at conversation which I am in no position to ignore.

“Much,” I lie. In fact, the heat from the shower (that’s right, almost-stepsister, I have my own en suite, do you?) has gone to my head and made me feel even sleepier than before. Combine this with the lethargy I’ve felt for the last week, and I could pass out right here.

“Well, dinner will be ready soon.”

“Super.” I can’t help but mimic her accent, and immediately feel like a tool for doing so, as Lilah blushes even deeper. I’m still cursing myself as I make my way downstairs.

Maria, it turns out, is quite the whiz in the kitchen, and we all sit down to a meal of roast chicken with all the extras, which I’m too tired to eat. Conversation is stilted and mainly focussed on me, and it isn’t long before we resort to a tense, neutral silence. The phone rings, and my dad seems glad for the distraction as he goes to answer it. The three of us remaining at the table can’t help but strain our ears to overhear.

“Oh, hello Michelle.” Fuck, it’s my mum. “Yes, she’s here. No, she seems fine. Jetlagged, but fine...pardon? Oh…” His voice drops at this point, and I carefully avoid eye contact with the others. “I see. Yes, I understand. Well…” And then his voice gets too low, and soon after he returns to the table, false nonchalance on display. “That was your mother,” he tells me, feigning innocence. “She was just checking that you got here okay. I told her you’d call her in the morning.”

I nod, barely able to lift my eyes from my plate, and soon after I excuse myself to go to bed. I’ve just changed into pyjamas and slid beneath the soft warmth of the covers when there comes a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” I call, knowing it’ll be my dad. I’m right. He enters, closing the door behind him, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I try to look as innocent as possible.

I know what conversation is coming, but he seems unable to decide where to begin. “Are you alright?” he asks eventually.

“Fine,” I reply. As soon as the word leaves my mouth I know there’s no point in lying. “Mum told you about Emma, didn’t she?”

He nods. “I’m sorry,” he says, taking my hand. “I know you were very close, and losing her must have been difficult…”

Emma was my best friend. Eight days ago she was killed in a car accident, just a plain, ordinary old crash. Three days ago – four now – they buried her in a cemetery where the light was too bright and the fake grass too green. Two days after that, I got on a plane bound for London. All I can do is nod, but dad seems to understand. “Do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head, and again he understands.

“Well, you know you’re welcome here for as long as you need.” The British aren’t very good at expressing their feelings, and although my dad is better than most, he still falters in tough situations. He offers a small smile, an olive branch of a sort. “Get some sleep.” And then he kisses my forehead, just as he always did, and gives another smile as he leaves the room.

I feel like I’m seven years old again, and I hug my Teddy close and leave the lamp on as I finally drift off to sleep.

Yay, first reply! *dances*

I can't help just smiling at the words you're writing in this one. Its just so... dramatic, and its great. Its like everything that would go through anyone's head, but who's too ... I dunno, scared to be like that. And he hung up on me, the bastard. Teehee!! *giggles and claps*

I love the dramatic Jaylee, she makes me happy. And Colin is amazing, hands down. :bow: I just... I dunno. Have nothing more of merit to say. (Work fries my brain, I'm sorry.) Anywhoo, that's all for now, lovely. Hehe, toodles!

:heartbeat:
Samma

That was a great chapter Jamie and I too love the drama queen Jaylee, she makes me happy to be a drama queen myself. I love th dramatic writing of this and I love just the whole plot line itself! Update soon and I was just curious about who are all the guys on your banner supposed to be. Is Colin Firth Jaylee's dad? :huh: Just curious. Anyways, please update soon!
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

The general angst line made me nod and want to use that phrase to generally describe my life right now. ^_^

And, Emma, :cry: Can I say that I must have been bornto be British in another life because the awkward 'i don't want to talk about it' vibe is just how I would have acted.

Lovely loving it.

Yeah I agree with everyone else Jaime, I loved this chapter. This story is really good so far. It's so dramatic and I love it.

I can't wait to see more and I'm sorry my reply isn't that good lol.

Katie

Too true!!

It was a bit of a twist to know about Emma, and it gives us a good insight on how Jaylee must feel at the moment. I bet she's not in the best mood to settle down with a new stepmother and daughter! But sometimes we don't realize what we need, rather kick it away.

Teddy made me go 'awww'... why you can always drag the mushy teen side outta me??

Seriously, you guys are the best! It means so much that you guys are reading this! *hugs*

Chapter Three

When I wake the clock beside my bed reads 10am, and the house is quiet. I’m groggy but strangely refreshed as I make my way downstairs with a cigarette in hand. Since I was sixteen years old I’ve been playing “Hide the Smoking From My Dad”, but a couple of years ago he finally caved in to defeat and set a small ashtray on the balcony that adjoins the living room – more to stop me flinging my butts into the garden below than any kind of peace offering. I head straight out there to find my ashtray thankfully still intact, wondering how to spend my day. I still have to unpack, of course, and I should definitely go across and see Dominic. I could even take a cab out to the theatre, and see my dad. Sounds like a plan.

I head back inside and for the kitchen, only to find Lilah sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at me with curious eyes. “Morning!” I chirp out of reflex. “I didn’t realise anyone was still here.”

She gives a small nod, still staring wide eyed. “My shift doesn’t start for another half hour. Colin said to call him as soon as you woke up…are you alright?”

I shrug. “Fine. Why?”

“Well you just slept for about forty hours straight. We were starting to get worried. Colin was going to stay home, but he got a phone call about an hour ago and there’s some big drama over at the theatre so he had to go…”

“Oh shit.” I glance at the clock. Twenty past ten. I went to bed at nine pm. But not nine pm yesterday, nine pm the day before. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.” I’d arrived on Monday afternoon.

“Fuck me.”

Lilah lets out a giggle at my choice of words (get used to it, love) and I shoot her a sheepish grin as I go to grab the phone. Jesus, dad’ll be going ballistic.

He sounds relieved to hear from me, and frankly, I’m a little relieved myself. My God, I could have slipped into a coma and died, for all anyone knew. But I assure him that I’m fine and that I’m feeling much better (which is true). I promise to come visit him at work this afternoon, and we hang up.

Back in the kitchen Lilah is still watching me with hawk eyes, and I take a seat at the breakfast bar. “So where do you work?” I ask, making conversation.

“I’m assistant store manager at a record store in Notting Hill,” she replies. “I know it’s not terribly ambitious, but I started working there after school when I was sixteen, and kept getting promoted. And I really don’t know what else I want to do, so I just…stayed on.”

I nod sympathetically. I can empathise with that, at least. “I hear you’re a dancer,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh God, what has my dad been telling you?”

She grins. “Well he does speak very highly of you.”

“I bet he does. Yes, I was a dancer. When I was younger I desperately wanted to follow my dad into the theatre, but now…” I shrugged. “Sometimes I think it was just that everyone expected me to become a performer, and I was just going along with it. But really, I have no idea what I want to do.”

We share a smile, and I can’t help but feel that a slight bond has been formed, despite myself. What the hell, we’re practically step sisters.

There comes a knock on the front door and a commotion as it opens. “Lilah!” calls an unfamiliar, Irish-accented voice. “Move your arse, we’re gonna be late!” Then a redhead about our age sticks her head into the kitchen, and falters when she sees me. “Oh, hi.”

Lilah has moved from her seat and is gathering her coat and bag. “Jaylee, this is my friend Deirdre, we work together. Deirdre, this is Colin’s daughter Jaylee.”

Deirdre is striding toward me extending her hand, which I shake. “The famous Jaylee, huh? Nice to meet you. I’d love to stay and chat, but the traffic is hell and we’re already running late…but I’m sure we’ll catch up soon!”

I’m a little taken aback by her bubbliness, but she seems harmless enough. I nod and offer a smile, and they’re gone, calling goodbyes over their shoulders as the door swings closed behind them.

And I’m all alone in the house. I stare about the kitchen for a few minutes, then move into the living room. When I first arrived I failed to notice the packing boxes stacked up in the corners and hallway – Maria and Lilah must have only been here a few days before I arrived. That would make sense – I hadn’t spoken to my dad at all since Emma’s death, which was…ten days ago now. But surely he would have mentioned the IDEA of them moving in…oh well. I’ll speak to him about it this afternoon.

I shower and dress, brave the freezing cold for another cigarette, and settle myself on the couch. I’m just getting involved in a re-run of ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ when the phone rings.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Oh good, Jaylee, you’re still home.” It’s my dad. “Listen, I have a favour to ask…feel absolutely free to say no. I know you haven’t quite figured out your plans as yet, but if you’re interested in a couple of weeks work and earning some extra cash, I may have a job for you.”

“At the theatre?” I ask doubtfully. I’m not sure that I want to be involved in theatre any more; I just haven’t worked up the courage to tell my dad that yet.

“Ah, yes,” he replies quickly. “Look, there’s been some big disasters over here, and I’ll need you to start straight away…I’ll send Dominic over to pick you up…”

Things suddenly brighten. “Oh, is Dom there?”

Dad ignores my question. “Are you interested?”

I think quickly. A couple of weeks work, hanging out with my dad and Dom? What the hell, I hadn’t figured out ANY plans yet. “Sure,” I say brightly. “What do you need me to do?”

There’s a long pause, and I’m suddenly doubtful of what he’s going to ask.

“How well do you know the show ‘Chicago’?”

Boeahahaha, and so, 'daddy leaves her gaping at the wall with the phone in her hand for good five minutes, before she curses all the saints of a Gregorian calendar.'

I love this story, well, that's not much of a surprise since I pretty much love everything you write. I checked the forum by chance and yoo-hoo, I am the first replier to the chapter where *I* make my appearence in all my spastic glory! :shine:

You know and I know that both real you, real me, and probbaly real-someone else of our friends would say that!

Great job as usual!!! :yes:

Sorry I don't have much of a review, I woke up late and am running late for work muwhaha.

Can't wait to see more :)

Katie

Oh my GOD! :eek: I love "Chicago"! AHHHH!! Jamie you have made me so happy! I think that is so cool. Anyways, great chapter and good God did that girl sleep. I never slept through a whole frigging day. That would be scary man and Deirdre reminds me somebody I know at my school, but I can't remember who. Anyways, great chapter and please update soon!
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

And look who comes waltzing in a zillion years after the story has been posted.

*waves*

Ah well, you know, I like to be fashionably late...even to reading my buds stories. ^_^

But enough about me....

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

And did I mention EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!

I love it. It has been far too long since I've last devoured a Jaime story. I must admit, I'm hooked.

I love Jaylee and her carefree yet almost jaded disposition. And Colin Firth as her British father?! Wasn't expecting that, but I love it.

Talk about awkward, showing up at your dad's place to find out that it is no longer just the two of you. At least Lilah seems really sweet.

I can't wait for more of this! And I can't wait for when I actually have time to dedicate to this site, and my girls. Oh school, you can't get here soon enough.

Yay! Chicago! <33333!!

Hehe, I luff it. We have Chicago OD now, with the Cellblock Tango Amber's got us all dancing. But, we all love it dearly, don't we girls. ;)

I think I'm in love with Jaylee. Seriously, how she's not afraid to do things, as far as we know at this point at least.

love!! <333!!

I'm sosososososo happy I get to read Jess fics again. *big grin*

:heartbeat:
Samma

You guys are kinder than this fic probably deserves, and I :love: you all dearly!!!

Just a little note - they say 'write what you know', and what I happen to know is theatre. So I apologise for all the factual elements that are going to come out in the rest of the story, 'cuz it's probably going to be seriously boring!! But I'll press on regardless, lol!


Chapter 4

Holy Fuck.

In my hurry it seems I haven’t packed any of my dance gear, not even a single jazz slipper. “Fuck!” I yell, digging through my suitcase. In my closet at home I have no less than four pairs of character shoes, two pairs of chorus shoes, one pair of pointes, a pair of jazz sneakers, and a laundry bag full of assorted, mismatched split-sole slippers that always takes me a few minutes to find a matching pair. But here, I have absolutely nothing. Hell and damn. I’ll have to get Dominic to stop at a dance supply shop on the way to the theatre.

As I’m pulling on a pair of cowboy boots, the doorbell sounds, and I run to answer it. “Hello!” I yell in a slightly hysterical fashion as I pull the door open.

Dom gives me a huge grin. “My betrothed!” he shouts back, grabbing me in a hug and swinging me off my feet.

This is an old joke between us. I’ve literally known Dom since I was born – his father and mine are old friends, and work together in the theatre, in fact now they’re the co-managers of the place. Dom is only a few months older than me, and we’ve been friends our whole lives. We always joke that we were betrothed at birth, and that our fathers are already planning our wedding.

“Well, there’s no time to fanny about,” he says in a mock-stern voice. “I promised your dad that I’d get you to theatre ASAP. Let’s move.”

I grab my things and we head for the car. “Is there a Bloch store on the way to the theatre?” I ask as he starts the engine. He laughs.

“Forget your dance shoes, did you?” I roll my eyes and nod. “Don’t worry, there’s one right around the corner from the theatre.”

The traffic in London is hell, and it’s half an hour before we finally pull up in front of the dance supply store. We race in, and I study the racks of dance heels quickly. Finally decided on an incredibly over-priced pair of simple black chorus shoes, I put the purchase on my credit card and we head back to the car. Another ten minutes, and we’re there.

Her Majesty’s Theatre is a place I know well. The huge foyer spreads across the entire front of the building, and there’s three entrances into the theatre itself. A huge marble staircase to the right leads up to a huge mirrored rehearsal studio, and above that are another four floors of studios and smaller rooms that make up a dance and performing arts school. Dom bustles me straight into the theatre, where the entire cast is gathered on the stage, in front of a mammoth staircase that appears to be still in construction stages. My dad rushes out of the crowd and heads towards us.

“Thank God,” he says quickly, glancing at the Bloch shoebox under my arm. “Been shopping?”

“Dance shoes,” I tell him quickly, and he nods.

“Right then, we need to start straight away.” He leads me onto the stage, talking all the while. The cast are dressed in parts of costumes – the tall, leggy chorus girls are in huge headdresses and what will eventually become showgirl outfits, and the boys are in tight black t-shirts and dance leggings. “We open in two weeks,” he’s telling me, “and our choreographer was in a car accident two days ago and will be in hospital for two months.” I wince at that, and he takes my arm gently. “Most of the numbers are finished, they just need to be staged, and that’s where you come in.”

We’re standing on the stage now, under the intense scrutiny of the cast. My God, these people are going to eat me alive.

“Listen up everyone,” dad commands, in his best ‘I’m the producer, you must pay attention’ voice. “I’d like to introduce Jaylee, our new choreographer. She’s going to finish the numbers for us. As we all know, we don’t have a lot of time, so let’s use it productively, huh?”

He gestures to a lone figure in the orchestra pit whom I haven’t noticed before. He’s tall, with a deep tan and trimmed facial hair, and the deepest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. “And this is Johnny Depp, your rehearsal pianist,” dad says through the fog that’s suddenly settled over my brain. “He’s completely at your disposal.”

I give him a small nod, and he flashes a grin. I turn back to the cast before I can do something stupid. Dad is already departing for the back of the theatre, and everyone is expecting me to call the shots. Fuck, why did I agree to this?

“Well,” I begin, forcing a smile. “Where shall we begin?” There is absolutely no response from the cast, but Johnny speaks up behind me.

“We were just trying to figure out ‘All I Care About Is Love’,” he tells me. Mmm, he’s American. Yummy.

“Right, well, let’s start there, shall we?”

People begin to move, and as I pull on my new chorus shoes one of the showgirls comes over. “You’re Colin Firth’s daughter, aren’t you?” the supernaturally tall blonde asks. I nod, in my uncomfortable bent-over position as I attempt to lift my head while trying to buckle my shoe at the same time.

“Yes, I’m Jaylee.”

She gives a small snort and moves away. Whatever, bitch.

The cast have cleared the stage except for eight showgirls and a man whom I assume is playing Billy Flynn. “Right,” I begin. “Have you been given opening positions?” Three people shake their heads, and the rest just stare blankly. Eventually the blonde bitch speaks again.

“We haven’t been able to do any of the beginning of this number, because the stairs have only just been built. But hey, that’s what you’re here for, right?”

I shoot her a quick glare and glance to Johnny, who rolls his eyes. “Right, well, from the beginning, then…”

By the time we finish for the day, we’ve managed to get through two numbers, and I’m exhausted. The disgruntled cast, including Bitchy McBlonde, has headed to the dressing rooms to change, and I sit on the edge of the stage to remove my shoes. There is no pain worse in the entire world than having to dance for almost six hours straight in a brand new pair of chorus shoes, and I’m cursing myself for having not brought an old worn-in pair with me. Mental note: remember to stuff these shoes with damp tea-towels as soon as I get home, to soften them up a bit.

Johnny is still in the orchestra pit, packing away his music, and he shoots a tired grin my way. “You did good,” he says encouragingly. “Don’t let them get under your skin, they’re almost all students from the school upstairs, and they’ve all got poles up their asses because of it.”

“Who’s the blonde with the attitude?” I ask. “Someone didn’t just shove a pole up her ass, they twisted it first.”

He laughs. “That would be Sadie Michaels, prize student and dance captain extraordinaire. She’s pissed because she thought she’d get the choreographer job when Linda was in the accident, but don’t pay any attention to her. You did a great job.”

“Thanks.”

He’s pulled the cover over the piano and gathered up his things. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Maybe this stupid job does have its perks, after all.

Oh, how I love this chick, she's such a drama queen!!
I giggled very much over the meeting with the 'blonde with an attitude', since she seems so different from the girl she is based on... but I guess Jay is pretty much the 'love or hate at first sight' type, so I'm positively trying to take all she says with a grain of salt.

And...

Heck, even *I* could put my ballet shoes back on, although I used to hate them, if I could reharse with such a pianist!

I love you so much Jamie for using all those teater terms, it makes me feel at home. I love the theater (if you can't tell since I am working ahrd to be in theater at the present time) and I have my character shoes and ballet shoes that I wnat to go get out and just wear around the house right now. And Johnny on piano :swoon: . Anyways, loved and dom was too cute and please update soon!
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Johnny Depp as a piano player made me giggle!!! I love all the theatre stuff in there :)

Can't wait to see more :)

Katie

:lol:

She is such a drama queen, but I'd be the same, or even worst in her case. I think she was a professional so it was perfect.

Theater seems to be such fun, that sometimes I wonder why my career are just numbers and don't dance at all :unsure:. Anyway... I think I'm falling in love with this story, I just love the fact that you write it and I seem to feel like if I know the girl already.

Andie

You know I realised I never read anything you wrote before.
And that is a terrible shame so I decided to hop on the bandwagon in time, now that your still in the beginning and enjoy the ride.
So far I really like were this is heading.
The introduction was great and the nice little bombshell at the end was a good way to attract attention.

I am looking forward to read more.

:hug:

wee! I just had so much fun reading these last two chapters! And, you know what makes this so cool...I just got a chance to watch that movie where Colin Firth is the British dad, can't think of the name, anyhow, it was on TV last weekend and I finally saw it. The one with Amanda Bynes. And, I was all, le sigh and wanting him to be my British daddy (in more than one way) :devil: and it can make me see him so well as an adorable British daddy here. I love him!

I also love the idea of Jaylee getting the job at the theater. And, Johnny behind the piano equals the sexiest image ever. I often think, how could Johnny get sexier, and then, it just seems to happen.

p.s. Did you hear that Britney Spears is reportedly naming her new baby Jailynn? It's so close to Jaylee I could just laugh for hours! I told you it was a Louisiana name!

It's called 'What A Girl Wants' - and it was SOOOOO the inspiration for this fic!!! lol I bought it on DVD when I was going through my Bridget Jones phase a few months back, and that's where this came from!! lol I heart it to death!!!

And Jailynn - LMAO!!! Man, we're starting trends even in the celebrity world! :P That's awesome! Go Louisiana names!!!

Alright, here's a new chappie - once again, thankies girls!! :laugh:




Chapter Five

I’m in the car on my way home with my dad, talking shop in such tones that makes me think that if anyone else was listening, they would have no idea what we were talking about. I love these conversations, and all the little technical terms that creep into them…being able to talk theatre is like being part of an exclusive club that the general public can only admire from afar. But there’s a pressing question on my mind, and I’m desperately searching for an opening to ask it.

At last there’s an opportunity. “So when did Maria and Lilah move in?” I ask casually. I refrain from adding ‘and when were you planning on telling me’, thinking that would be ever so slightly obnoxious. He gives a sigh.

“Only a couple of days ago…two days before you arrived, in fact.” He shoots me an apologetic look. “It really was very sudden, it turned out that the landlord of their flat was actually a very shady creature, and we don’t know the full details of anything, but the fact was that they had only seven days to vacate and find somewhere else to live. I suggested they stay with me while they found somewhere, and then it turned into why don’t they just move in, as things were starting to head in that direction anyway…”

I’m not sure that I really want to hear this, but I am a mature adult and my father and I have always been honest with each other. Well, almost always.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” His voice is gentle, sincere. “I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer…of course, now I understand why…and to tell you the truth, I wasn’t entirely sure how to break the news to you.”

I shake my head gently. “It’s okay. It was just a bit of a surprise, that’s all.” Another question is pressing on my mind. “Do you love her?”

I’m studying his profile in the dim light from passing streetlamps, and his expression softens. “Yes,” he replies. “Very much. And you’ll like her too, you’ll see.”

When we return home Maria is again cooking up a storm in the kitchen, and Lilah is running around like a madwoman, searching for various articles of clothing in the boxes strewn about the living room. “Jaylee!” Lilah calls when we enter. “A bunch of us are heading out tonight, there’s a little club that’s sort of our hangout, want to come? It won’t be a late one, most of us have to work tomorrow, but we’ll have a few drinks and a dance.”

Truth be told, I’m exhausted, even after my two-day nap, but what the hell. In the car I made a silent promise to my dad that I’d try and accept these two women, and I intend to honour it. “Sure,” I reply. “Sounds fun!” Then another thought occurs to me, something that will make the evening a little easier to bear. “Can Dom come?”

Lilah grins. “He already is, silly; actually I thought he might have told you earlier. He’s picking us up in half an hour.”

Half an hour? Shit. I’m still in my black leggings and tatty old cowboy boots, and I smell terrible from dancing all day. “I’ll go get ready!” I call, already bounding up the stairs.

If there was ever a time I needed to make a good impression, this was it. I shower quickly, then to save time I dump the entire contents of my still-unpacked suitcase over my bed. Hmm, decisions. Obviously underwear comes first, and that choice is pretty easy. But on top, what sort of persona do I want to portray? Do I want to be fun and modern and glamorous, or whimsical and feminine and floaty? Or bohemian gypsy, perhaps, or arty-farty theatre person? The choices are endless.

Eventually I decide to go kind of fun-casual – dark denim jeans tucked into knee-high black boots, and a pink and white striped nautical style top – very Sienna Miller. I tie my hair into a seemingly casual but actually painstaking ponytail and tie a think pink scarf around my head band-style, letting the ends trail down to my backside. Some light makeup (‘light’ meaning only three coats of black mascara instead of four and sheer lipgloss instead of red lipstick) and I’m ready.

As soon as I get downstairs however, I’m regretting my choice of outfit. What if this club has those UV lights that make everything white glow like the lines on a runway? The white stripes on my top will stand out like a beacon…and what if I accidentally sit on the tails of the scarf around my head, and end up jarring my neck when my head snaps back when I try to move? And is the boots-over-jeans combination still in fashion over here…come to think of it, I haven’t seen any pictures of Sienna in this combo in quite awhile…

“Oh, you look lovely!” Maria croons, standing in the kitchen with my dad. “I never thought a redhead could wear pink, but obviously I was wrong!”

Hey, I like this woman already.

Dad grins. “God, she’s been wearing pink since she was born. Death to all those who tell her she can’t.”

“And she’s damn right too.” I’m pleased to see that Lilah is also wearing pink, in the form of a hot pink mini-dress with silver belt that I’m already planning on borrowing. Dom enters without knocking, as he’s always done, and we’re off.

It turns out that Dom and Lilah have become quite good friends as well, which actually sits a little uneasily with me. We’re talking and laughing merrily as we climb into the car, but I stop short when I notice a pretty brunette already occupying the front seat.

Dom makes a quick introduction. “Stacia, this is Jaylee, who I’ve been telling you about. She’s Colin’s daughter. Jay, this is Stacia Sibilla, my girlfriend.”

What? Girlfriend? When the hell did this happen? But I’m very polite and shake hands, and sit back to study her as we make our way through London to a club called Incendie et Glace, which apparently has an awesome black marble dance floor and cages suspended from the ceiling that you can dance in. I’m intrigued.

Being a Wednesday night, the club is nowhere near full, but it makes it a lot easier to chat to people. We are met out the front by Lilah’s boyfriend Billy, a lovely Scot, Deirdre, and a guy with startling blue eyes that I recognise as one of the chorus boys from ‘Chicago’.

“Jaylee Firth!” he calls to me ecstatically, shaking my hand. I try not to look confused as I smile in return.

“Actually, it’s Jaylee Ryan,” I correct him gently. “I took my mother’s surname. But just call me Jay.” It’s odd, but I have this weird thing about shortening my name. All my friends and family in Australia call me Lee for short, but in London my dad and Dominic and everyone from the theatre calls me Jay. I like to keep that distinction.

Dom slings his arm about my shoulders as we start to head inside. “Ah, of course you and Elijah know each other,” he says with a grin. “We’re all going to be working together at close quarters for awhile now, aren’t we? Come on then, I’m dying for a drink!”

Then we’re inside, and as tempting as those hanging cages are, I decline them this once. No point making an arse of myself on the very first night that I’ve met these people. We’re seated at a booth just off the dance floor, and all eyes at once turn to me, the stranger to their urban family.

I give a bright grin. I’m young, I’m sassy, I’m sophisticated and intelligent, oozing Australian charm, and within minutes I’ll have them eating out of my hand and thinking that I’m the most glamorous, exotic person they’ve ever met.

Or the butterflies in my stomach could cause me to projectile vomit all over each of their curious faces. It could go either way.

Ahahah, Jay, don't be afraid, yo won't puke!

Or, at least i hope so!

So now things are starting to look familiar... you, Am, me and the boys in a club. Feels like we did it a hundred times in a hundred stories... hope it will happen for real sometimes!

Now, I like the introduction of Elijah, he seems... very masculine. :lol:

And I also enjoyed the fact Jay and Lilah wear similar outfits and she's alreadyplanning on borrowing stuff. hey, I got a sister, they get handy sometimes! ;)

Where is this club and I want to go! It osunds like fun. I love how you are writing this Jamie and also, I totally love Jay's outfit, it is so awesome. I can't wait to read more!
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Hot pink mini dress plus silver belt! *dies* I wish I was wearing it now! :lol: Ah, and the cages....I am always in desperate need of dancing in them but what always ends up happening is I get so drunk on wine that I completely forget to climb up the steps and get in one. But, next time I go to Top Gun, oh yes, the cages are mine...oh yes, they will be mine. And, I gots a feeling that these girls shall make their way to the cages, too! I love this! Time for Dance Dance Revolution?

Shit I missed a chapter of it! Feel free to smack me Jaime! lol.

I loved it, poor Jay, hopefully she can meet someone to distract her from Dommie lol. Can't wait to see more :)

Katie

Oh oh oh ... The magic of new friends, let's face it, it's a butterflies explossion and I always end up at first so nervous, but later I forget and I have them amuzed that I can speak English so well :lol:

Anyway, I love this story!!!! First, I'd die to wear that outfit, sadly, I don't look like sienna miller, but still I love how it looks, and the thing in the hair? My new obsession lately!!

Dom with girfrield? I mean, it could be, it had to, after all he and Jay weren't an item and she went away for a long time, it had to happen one way or another.

I love Lilah's dress!! I wore something similar but either with my new favorite color (red baby, I know mena, I had to copycat you...) or white. But the belt and everything, I look so glamourse and so eighties!!

The club sounds like fun, and I bet that Jay is going to give the impression she wants. So don't be nervous..!!!

I want to give a shout-out to Katie, Kat and Dana for being here - you're all so kind! And of course to my regular girls, whom I love dearly! Thank you all soooo much for reading!! :love:


Chapter Six

So far, so good. Everyone seems lovely, the drink is flowing, and – thank God – we can smoke in the club. As I expected conversation has been centered on me, but I’ve managed to answer their questions with poise, grace and charm. It’s entirely possible that I look like a snobby bitch, but it’s better than looking like a stupid arse, so I’m thankful.

“It’s a shame Viggo couldn’t make it,” Lilah says, directing her words at Deirdre. The redhead nods.

“I know. But he’ll be home by the weekend, so I’m sure you’ll see him.”

Deirdre’s live-in boyfriend, it turns out, is a top-notch attorney, and every now and then he has to take business trips to New York. Sometimes Deirdre goes with him, sometimes she doesn’t, and she keeps hinting that she’s expecting a proposal anytime soon.

She also hints that she’s expecting a baby soon, and considering she’s the same age as me, that kind of freaks me out a little.

“So you’re pregnant then?” I ask as she declines an alcoholic beverage and stares longingly at the pack of cigarettes in front of me.

“Highly likely,” she declares proudly, and I can’t help but shake my head slightly. Freak. How is it possible in this day and age that a young woman can have no ambition other than to become a wife and mother? That idea seems so outdated, medieval almost. And she seems smart enough, she must have a thousand career choices at her fingertips.

“Do you want to have kids someday?” she asks as I light up another ciggie.

“Sure, someday. When I’m like thirty. I can’t even imagine having a kid now.” It’s true. The thought of a child makes me literally shudder. No thank you very much.

She grins. “I want ten,” she announces, and I choke on a lungful of smoke. Lilah gives a knowing laugh and pats me on the back – she’s obviously heard this before.

“Deirdre’s from a good old Irish family,” she explains. “She’s the sixth child out of twelve.”

Deirdre nods. “Mum was just a walking, talking baby-making machine. I guess it kind of rubbed off on me. And besides, it’s not as if I NEED to have my own career – Viggo can support the both of us more than comfortably. I’m only working at the record store with Lilah for something to do until I can get pregnant.”

Unbelievable. This woman has just stepped directly out of the nineteen hundreds.

Dom and Stacia have returned from the bar, and I can’t help but scrutinise them together. When the hell did this happen? And why hasn’t Dom told me about it? It’s not like we’re not in contact with each other when I’m not here…we e-mail regularly, and talk on the phone every now and then. Jesus, it seems everyone in London has a secret relationship to hide from dear old Jaylee. But to my chagrin, Stacia seems really nice – quiet, but let’s face it, I can be a little intimidating at first, and anyone would seem quiet next to the rowdiness of Lilah and Deirdre. She keeps meeting my gaze across the table and smiling shyly, as if she’s working up the courage to speak to me. Eventually, I put her out of her misery.

“So, what do you do?” I ask. She glows under the spotlight I’ve placed on her, as all eyes at the table turn to her. Maybe it’s not just me that she’s quiet around.

“Actually, I’m just going into business for myself,” she replies, with a hint of shy pride. “I’m opening a new childcare center in a couple of months with a friend of mine from school – we’ve got kids on a waiting list and everything.”

And now I’m intimidated by her. Again, she’s the same age as me, but the complete opposite end of the spectrum to Deirdre – she’s already a bona fide entrepreneur. “That’s really awesome,” I tell her, and she blushes. Dom is giving her a lovesick look that makes me want to gag.

Stacia then turns the conversation back to me, asking about my dancing, and in particular, my new involvement with the West End’s newest production – ‘Chicago’.

“Oh, I’m just helping out my dad for a couple of weeks,” I say, trying to sound flippant.

“And what are your plans after that?”

Fuck. Right now, the word ‘plans’ is the most hated word in my vocabulary. Alright, play it cool. I’m a free spirit, just floating where the winds take me, not being held down by any one job, any one place or any one person for too long.

Or, I’m just a lost soul who has no clue what the hell she wants to do with the rest of her life.

“I’m not sure,” I reply brightly, with a grin. “I think I’ll just get this show over with, and then…see what happens from there.”

I detect a glint of awe in Stacia’s eyes, and I avoid her gaze. Man, she thinks I’m so cool. I’ll have to break the harsh reality to her gently.

Eventually the group starts to break up – it is a Wednesday night after all, and there are jobs to be attended tomorrow. We say goodnight out front of the club, and go our separate ways. Lilah has decided to stay at Billy’s, and I’m left alone in the car with Dom and Stacia. Every silence that falls has the potential to be awkward, so I cover them by talking non-stop, but I’m happy to cut off my verbal diarrhoea sharply when the car finally stops.

And I’m even gladder to fall into bed, although I notice before turning out the light that my brand new chorus shoes are lying beside my bed, and I’d forgotten to stuff them with towels before I left. Another day of foot-hell awaits.

Boeahahahahahahah!! Oh my, how much I love this!! Probably because it's sonmething that impressed me so much back in Ireland, all those girls of my age with babies and bellies... but most of all i love it because it's so not me, and that's what fictio is about, right?

Besides that, ten kids with Viggo... hey, one might seriously think about it!

:yes:

Okay, this reply was pretty self-centered, but you know I liked every bit of this, hun!