The Timeline

20.

December 23rd, 2014: 

The very first thing Claire saw upon entering her home in Wembley Park was a full front of Jack's penis.

She had landed at London Heathrow with Harry a couple hours prior and the both of them had separated after they had got down from the plane, with Harry following a route and Claire following the opposite one. She had gotten back into the country, retrieved her luggage and rejoined Richard, who had been waiting for her in the arrival area, with open arms and a smile that had split his manly face in two.

Claire had not exactly realized how homesick she had been, too taken with the blinding lights of New York and all the things she had done, but the moment she had seen Richard and he had hugged her, she had nearly been brought to tears. And to have her phone and her usual data back on track had been a huge relief: what with being in New York, Claire still had almost all of her data intact, which was a miracle so late in a month.

Richard had talked her ear off, telling her how much he had missed her and how scared he had been of having her all on her own on the other side of the world, and was this how parents felt when their kids were out of their sight for that long? Claire, tired out of her mind, jet lagged and taken aback by the fact she had left New York in the morning and had arrived in London while it was about to turn evening, had not contributed much to the conversation, with Richard's voice lulling her in a slight slumber, leaning on the window of the car.

Richard let her sleep, only occasionally leaning to give her head a little pat and check that she was alright.

Their schedule consisted of this: Richard would've dropped Claire at her house in Wembley, while he would've gone to his house to retrieve Anna and the twins, which had been getting ready with their luggage; Claire, in the meantime, would've emptied her suitcase of all her dirty clothes and the various presents she had bought, hide the ones for her friends, get the ones for her family back in the suitcase, get some fresh clothes for the holidays in Maidstone, maybe say hello to her friends if they were home (or maybe they had already left for the holidays in Maidstone, so they could've met there) and then meet once again with David, he reunited with Anna and the twins, and leave for Maidstone. It was a good plan.

So, when Richard woke her up, Claire stirred and got out of the car. Richard got her suitcase out and told her he was going to be back as soon as possible, traffic permitting - and Anna, who was a serial procrastinator when it came to packing things, although Richard didn't say.

Eyes bleary, suitcase being dragged behind her, Claire stopped in front of the house's door and got out her keys from her hand luggage. She opened the door as quietly as possible and stepped in.

Again, being surrounded by her own house, so different from Harry's immaculate and modern residence where everything felt so impersonal, filled Claire's eyes with tears. The house smelled of its usual scent of lemongrass, her friends' mingled perfumes and... home. There simply was no other way to call it.

Hand clutching her heart, eyes cloudy with drops of water, Claire turned around, holding her bag, to face the hallway and the door to the kitchen.

Then gave a startled scream as she was met with Jack's naked figure coming out of the bathroom.

She had not expected him. He hadn't expected her. She screamed. He jumped. They were silent for a while. Then, as if he had been brought out of a reverie, Jack's hands flew to his schlong, cupping it to protect it from Claire's wide open eyes.

"What the fuck?!" - Jack hissed.

"What the fuck, me? What the fuck you!" - Claire answered, doing her best to keep her eyes on Jack's face, instead of his very lean and skinny figure. She had never seen him naked. Hadn't had reasons for it. Hadn't even wanted to, actually. - "What the fuck are you doing here?!"