Held To Ransome

Tea for Two

Callie walked slowly along the road.  She could see Tom's car sitting along from the café.  It made her a little sad in some respects. She'd loved her car. It had been one of the perks of the job she actually missed. Maybe he'd let her drive it one day?

One day? What was she even thinking!? This was just a simple cup of coffee in a small café near her house in the butt-hole of nowhere. It wasn't cocktails at the Savoy for God's sake! 

A wry smile on her lips she walked in. There he was, sitting at a corner table, looking at something on his phone. His eyes sparkled, and his smile was broad. Whatever - or whoever - it obviously had his whole attention, he didn't look up as the little bell over the door tinkled.

For a second, she paused, just memorising the moment when he would look up and see her.

Tom arrived a little after 10.30am. The café was fairly empty, the mis-matched tables and chairs, the chintzy table cloths and the eclectic crockery all adding to the air of a cosy country kitchen. Somewhere to have a cuppa and a gossip.

The counter cabinet was filled with what, to Tom, looked like treasure. Cake. Of every description. All sitting on their own little glass pedestal. Walnut cake, Carrot Cake, Chocolate Cake and pride of place in the centre, a huge Victoria Sponge.  All golden sponge, red jam and white dusted sugar on top.  His mouth watered and he looked at his watch.  Just a small slice while he waited?  No!  Have a bit of control Hiddleston he scolded himself, then proceeded to order a small latte and a cheese scone.  

As he sat, he looked out of the window.  It was a quaint village, one, he was sure was a pleasure to live in.  Close community but not suffocating, everyone protected everyone else.  He'd had a taste of that the previous day while they were visiting locations.  One house in particular - it would be his in the series - was quite remote.  As they pulled up in their production cars, several locals appeared "just visiting" the elderly lady who actually lived there. Not exactly suspicious of strangers in a pitchfork and torches kind of way, they just wanted to make sure these "Hollywood types" weren't here to cause grief.

He'd won them over, of course he had.  Charm personified, there wasn't a person that came away anything less than a fan.  He'd smiled and shook hands, hugged and taken selfies.  He'd also promised to make sure the locals weren't inconvenienced any more than they absolutely had to be.  He knew exactly the person to tap into the local vibe.  She was currently on her way, he hoped.

Taking out his phone, he logged into the Wifi and began to surf.  His distracted musings were interrupted by a Messenger call.  With a beaming smile he pressed answer and a pretty brunette with familiar eyes and a cheeky smile waved.  "Hi! How you doing?  Pissed off the locals yet then?" her voice was soft but had a cheeky edge born of familiarity.

"No I haven't as well you know.  Not my style you cheeky little monster."

"Less of the little!  I'm only a few years younger than you. If you're going to insult me, I'm NOT going to tell you why I called... I had juicy gossip for you.  About one of your RADA colleagues, but if you don't WANT to know..." he could see her sit back and cross her arms.  He laughed and shook his head.  

"Oh Emms you are impossible.  Always were.  Just as well I love you." his heart always swelled with pride when he saw the lovely, vivacious, intelligent and altogether more composed young woman his little sister had grown into.  They'd always enjoyed a sibling banter that hid the truth that their apparent scathing dislike was really a mutual show of unending love and support.

Emma smiled wickedly and crouched nearer the phone.  "well, since you're OBVIOUSLY twisting my arm for information..." and she launched into her juicy scandal.  Tom was, after a few minutes, completely absorbed.

It was at this point the door opened and in walked his coffee date.  He didn't even blink, hadn't heard a thing other than the deluge of scandalous information coming from his pet snitch.  It wasn't until he had that hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck thing, he looked up.

For the first time in a very long time, he hung up on his sister with a "Gotta go bye." His eyes met her beautiful sea green ones, his smile reflected the instant pleasure at seeing her.  His breath quickened as she approached and he rose to greet her.

"Hi" she said, slightly embarrassed that the entire room seemed to be watching them. "Sorry I'm late."

Tom held out a hand and she took it gingerly.  He kissed her knuckles and then guided her to her seat opposite him, holding out her chair.  You could almost hear the sighs from the other women in the room - and the muttered grumbles from the men.  How the hell could they compete with THAT!?  She sat down and once she was comfortable, Tom retook his seat.

"You're not late, honestly, I was early." he said quietly as the normal hum of the tearoom returned.  "I was..." he paused, not knowing quite WHY he had been so early. "I was waiting for my sister to call.  She calls a lot actually.  Usually about nonsense but not always.  Sometimes, like today she does have her uses.  Not that I use her you understand, I just meant..." he stopped as he saw Callie's expression.  She was laughing, not at him, but because of him.

"Do you always talk so much at people?" she said when he'd stopped to draw breath.

"AT people?  I don't talk AT people." he protested but realised she was probably right in this case. "Anyway, it's just a defence mechanism.  When I'm nervous."  He looked genuinely contrite and she felt bad for teasing him.

"Nervous?  You?  You've done multimillion dollar films, you've done theatre here and in the US.  You do Shakespeare for God's sake.  How can you be nervous?" she wasn't disbelieving, just curious.

"It's not acting that makes me nervous.  It's real life, real people.  Films are pretend.  Plays are pretend.  Even Shakespeare was hundreds of years ago.  Real people though? They are lifted, praised, comforted and damned. Condemned, hurt at irrevocably changed by the way we speak to them.  I never want to be the source of someone's sorrow because I spoke harshly or just disrespectfully. They matters to me and it makes me nervous."

Callie gasped inwardly.  What a candid answer to a throw-away question.  It actually made her question how she spoke to people.  He really was an amazing human being.  Then it struck her, did he mean to imply she mattered to him?  Surely not. "So, given that you have done nothing but be charming and wonderful company - hence why I decided to get up early and come to meet you..."  she was interrupted by a snort of derision.

"EARLY?  You call THIS early? Are you a born-again student or something?" he winked and proceeded to wave to the waitress who trotted over. "I wouldn't have taken you for someone who lay in bed all day!" 

She waited until he'd ordered two teas and two slices of cake before she turned to him and said in a serious voice "well, it depends if I have anything - or anyone - worth staying in bed for." She winked outrageously and bit her lip, in a coy but laughing way.  For a second he paused, his mouth hanging open and then he too laughed.

"I've been hanged by my own petard haven't I?  Finally met my match with banter it seems?  Well, bring it on miss, bring it on.  I have many years experience dealing with feisty women - I was the only male in the household against three women for most of my life.  I think I can hold my own."

"Oh I'm sure you rarely have to" she quipped with a saucy wink as the tea arrived, preventing him from saying anything more.  

Tom fought, as he bit into his sponge, the overwhelming urge to tease her even more.  This was fun.  He was actually having genuine fun with someone who wasn't a sister, a mother, an adopted brother.  There was something about Callie, something honest and raw and genuine.  

He could see there was a story behind that gentle but wicked laugh.  Something that fuelled that beautiful smile, he hoped it was something good, he feared it was something painful.   He now knew he wanted to find out.