Charmed

Paved With Gold

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Mel?" Susan turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in concern. "London's just so.... London?" She shrugged, sipping her coffee carefully.  Mel was many things. Decent tasting coffee maker was NOT one of them.

"Oh, Susan, stop being such an old woman!" Melissa Harte laughed loudly and put her own mug down.  Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, she waved her hands about animatedly. "If I dont do it now, I never will. That phone call was a sign.  Get off my fat arse and see the world. Well, London at any rate." She looked at her aunt, who'd always insisted on first names because "Aunt" made her feel like Miss Haversham, with pure  excitement.

"If you say so.  Just dont forget to call your mum EVERY week, ok? I do NOT want her moaning at me every time I see her!" Susan Harte stood and walked to the little kitchen area in Mel's new flat. "You know," she paused and looked at Mel, "your Dad would have been so proud of you." As she looked at her niece, she could see her brother Jack in her. Same dark hair, same brown eyes, same cheeky smile. Definitely same fiery temper and loyal heart.

"Thanks." Was all Mel said as she stood up and walked over to hug her. "You know, it's odd. When I was younger, I always found it hard to remember his voice." She stopped, and Susan smiled, taking her hand. "But now? His voice I can hear. It's his face that's fuzzy. We have so few photos." Trying to keep the sadness out of her voice, she smiled gently.

Susan nodded. "Yes, I wish we had more. But they were lost when..." she squeezed Mel's hand. "Well, you know.  Anyway, since it might be a while until I see you again, how about we go out for something to eat."

They surveyed the boxes surrounding them and laughed together.  "Good idea!" Mel agreed, "Can't say I have the faintest idea where the pans are yet. Guess I'll find them eventually!"

Agreement reached, they pulled on their coats, and Mel locked the door behind them. Trotting up the steps to the street level, they paused.

"Ok, Miss London Tourist Guide!" Susan laughed, threading her arm through Mel's, "where to?"

For a minute, Mel paused. She'd only actually lived here for a few hours, but she'd visited so many times it already felt like home.

"Ok, it's Friday night, and we're footloose and fancy free. How about painting the town a funny shade of brown? There's a decent Indian not far away. We can walk around the market after. Who knows what.... or who.... we might pick up?" She winked, and Susan laughed.

"Yep, you're your father's daughter, alright. Ok, lead on Macduff....."

The two women walked away into the early evening gloom.

Across London, in a fancy hotel, in a fancy restaurant, in a fancy dinner jacket, someone else was contemplating Friday nights. He smiled and nodded to his dinner companions, the very essence of charm and decorum. Inside, however, he was screaming.

To go home, take off the tie and put on his favourite sweater. Bundle up in a cosy jacket and go for a takeaway. Sit on the sofa in his joggers and stuff Tikka Masala in his mouth with his fingers and a naan bread.

A life like his was a privilege, and he knew it. He knew that a career like his came at a price. His loyal companion, waiting at home to cuddle up? Four paws and a tail. His likelihood of a Tikka Masala any time soon? Slim to none.

Tomorrow, he had a day off. Tomorrow would be joggers and dog day. Tomorrow, he would stop feeling sorry for himself and get a grip.

If only he had someone to get a grip of.....