Long Way Home [ON HOLD]

⭐Chapter 4⭐

Theo's P.O.V.👕 

When Theo finally reached the small cubby hole he and Anya had put together, he was not expecting to find her pastel blue bicycle parked next to it. He looked around, hoping to find her sitting on a branch of the apple tree and smiling down on him, but the place was deserted. Now he was curious. He walked towards the cycle, and caught site of an envelope hastily stuffed into the cubby. He could almost picture her putting the envelope into the cubby and running off to wherever she went. He immediately recognized her neatly placed handwriting on the envelope. Just one word, but he felt the emotion with which it was written. Theo. Opening the letter, he found two pages of her favorite pastel green notebook, torn out, with a lot written in them. 

I knew you'd eventually come around, old boy. He smiled at the truly Anya-ian introduction- blunt, short and sweet, just like her. So yeah. If you're reading this, yes, I have run away, for good. Now I know you'll be full of questions and the whys and wherefores and why is there a cycle randomly at our place, so shut up and read carefully. Theo, you are the only person who knows that I want to pursue music professionally. You remember the trip I took to Southampton with my parents? Well, I secretly went out to explore not far from where we stayed. It was clear out for once, and I discovered something wonderful.

~*~ ( A.N.- this sign means a flashback// just for future ref.)

She quietly advanced towards the stage, where a respectable crowd listened, mesmerised, to a middle-aged lady who was singing a song which made the listener's heart sob out with the pain and feeling of it. Almost immediately she was also drawn into the music, and only one thought prevailed in her head and heart, this will be me soon. All at once, the song ended the audience rose as one, with tumultuous applause.

 The lady smiled gratefully and stepped off the stage, and hugged a man who was waiting for her at the foot of the steps. He had smiling eyes and a face she could trust instinctively. She stepped up to the two of them, who looked as if they knew what was going on out here. "em, excuse me?" she began shyly. The man turned, and seeing the girl, smiled a smile of welcome. "hello, lass. How can I help you?" he had a bit of a Scottish twang in his fatherly voice, which she found entirely becoming. "well, uh, I was wondering if you could tell me what is happening here? It looks wonderful" blundered Anya, who couldn't comprehend why she felt so shy all of a sudden. The man just laughed, and the woman's face softened, looking at Anya's short profile and dainty features. "well, dearie, this is a monthly concert of sorts, where people, famous or not, come to play or sing, and people pay a bit for a quiet evening of music. You're not from around here, are you?" asked the man abruptly. 

"Uh, no, I'm from Bradford, I'm here with my, uh, my parents." "ah. All the money we get from this here concert, aside from a small sum, we send to the children's hospital here." The woman put in. she had a proper London high street accent, and a comely, mother like stature. "uh, I'm sorry, we?" '" I'm the founder of this entire thing, me and my wife here, who you just heard on stage, and we run the thing every month end. Right, excuse me, I've to go close the show now." And the man bustled off towards the stage, while the woman turned to her. "are you interested in music, pet? Why d'you want to know much about this?" she asked kindly. "oh yes ma'am, I love music! It is my one comfort. I was only asking because I want to do something like this, in a year or so. I've written a few songs, and I want to test them out, of sorts." Anya's eyes brightened up, talking of her beloved music. 

"And how old are you? You look like a mite. Where are your parents?" "I'm seventeen ma'am, eighteen in six months, in May. My parents are at the hotel. I wanted to explore the place a bit. I am absolutely charmed with it all, and I love your concert. I want to participate as well" Anya clapped her hand over her mouth. Drat! She spoke too much again! The woman laughed at her enthusiasm, and her husband, after sending the crowd off with a thank you, goodnight, caught the last remark and said "well, my dear, you are welcome to participate once you're eighteen. That's the minimal age. I'm not going to hint at anything, but sometimes, music directors and producers often stop by, and take some lucky chap or lass away to the world of stardom and fame, with their record labels and hit singles and all sorts of new-fangled terms for the same old thing. Oh, but lassie, we never got properly introduced even. Pray tell your name?" concluded the man. "em, I'm Anya," she somewhat reluctantly added "Anya Robertson".

"Anya, eh? Beautiful name. I'm Matthew, just Matthew, and this here's my lovely wife, Emily. Now, your name reminds me of another, dear name; Annie. Aye, that was the name of our little daughter, ray of sunshine she was, only ten when she passed, still so cheerful that dreadful disease, whatchamacallit, cancer, yes. Was a big fan of music, was Annie. We started this for her, in memory of her little self." Anya's heart melted, and she instantly felt sorry for them, even though she knew it was wrong to. The man, Matthew, composed himself, and Emily wiped away a stray tear. "well, lass, come home with us, we'll give you a cup of Emily's famous hot chocolate, for you could not possibly survive in this cold without something warm, then you start off for your hotel. It is but seven, dinner's not till eight, plenty of time, plenty of time." Anya took an instant liking to this wonderful couple, and allowed herself to be led away, even though she knew she had to get back to the hotel soon, or father's belt awaited her. Never mind, she thought. Just this once, I won't mind. Emily took her by the arm and said, with a look that warmed her heart, "He's taken a shine to you, Anya dear. I believe we shall all be great friends, you and I."

~*~

Since then, I've gone every month end to stay with them, and help out with the show. But this time I plan to go for good, and participate, just like they said I could. It felt good, you see, being cared for and loved. I know you are always there, and I am ever grateful, but having parental affection was something I craved, and which I got in excess in Southampton. All the other times, I took the bus, but the single bus that plied on the Bradford-Southampton route has been shut, so I'm taking the long way there. I plan to perform on the 30TH, my birthday. It's only fitting, you see.

Theo, I trust you entirely. You are my rock and my support, and I know you would never betray me. You can come see me if you'd like, only just come secretly, if you do. This is why I left my cycle here. Take it, and follow me, if you'd like.

See you soon, maybe?

Love always,

Anya.

Ps. Do not worry about me, please. I'm not a six-year-old.

Theo sighed, smiled, and instantly made up in his mind what he was to do. "looks like you and I will be taking a little trip to the Southampton shores, eh, Pastel?" he looked towards the cycle, which had, in childlike fashion, been christened Pastel. The cycle stared back. He picked up his phone, called Anya, let it go to voicemail and said "I'm....."

--

lol this one is a lot, but i couldn't bear to separate the chapter. i know how everyone hates cliffhangers, AND IM SORRY FOR THIS ONE, but one author has taught me that art of cliffhanging (is that even a word) ( *cough cough* RiCk RiOrDaN im looking at u) but anyway.

hope you like it, and up there you'll see a video of a song i think fits this chapter perfectly, its called 'Stand By You' by Rachel Platten, and the picture is of their cubby thing. the lights were Anya's idea, and theo built a sturdy container hole thing, not in the picture. just for your visual benefit// okay bye

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