So, I lied, a GINORMOUS gap between uploading, my bad.
We dried off at home, and although we sat for an hour or two in the kitchen with the heating turned up I still felt a slight chill that ebbed and flowed within me for the rest of the day, you know, the kind where you’ve learnt something you can’t quite believe, but really want to all the same. It’s probably the uncertainty that gets to you the most, like when your cat brings you a “present” and you’re not sure whether to be thrilled because he brought it especially for you or distraught because he’d killed something and you’re one of those pathetically squeamish people so you just end up passing out and smacking your head on the table. But, at least, with this kind of thing you’re not left with a flipping great bruise and forehead shaped dent on the table, (it’s still there, I checked). Secrets aren’t physically messy, they just tend to fry your brain. But either way you’re left with a pile of mushy stuff that’s either your head or the poor deceased animal’s which you have to painstakingly clean up.
But anyway, all this time, I have had two great loves in my life: ice cream and chocolate. Ok, so there is a third, a fourth, a fifth and a sixth, but they’re not quite so relevant right now. Sometimes they would merge together in the form of chocolate ice cream but today I found comfort in a steaming hot mug, topped with marshmallows (which is about umm eighth? Ninth? Tenth? Only just beaten by the Muppets and that cute look Aelfbrick gives you when he has something meaningful and profound to say and wants to make sure you’re not going to ruin it by running after something shiny or making an inappropriate comment. That’s a new entry, by the way.)
Aelfbrick sat across from me, his face set in a faraway expression. (that’s also on the list. That expression, not his face. That would shorten my list significantly.) He sipped at his hot chocolate tentatively; not sure if he liked the rich and sweet but sickly taste.
Silence reigned whilst I searched for a suitable topic of conversation. One by one I discarded my ideas as I was certain he would have no clue about what happened in the latest episode of “Made in Chelsea”. I don’t think he even really knew what a TV was.
I couldn’t even use my failsafe, music, given that his Elvin world was so different from mine. He probably still had a court minstrel or something. An abstract conversation played out in my head the more I thought about it.
ME: So, what kind of music do you like?
AELFBRICK: I don’t really listen to much music.
ME: Oh…
AELFBRICK: But I am in a band.
ME: Really? What kind of music do you play?
AELFBRICK: Uh well mostly Folk-indie-classical-screamo-sea-shanties
ME: Wow…
AELFBRICK: Yeah, we’re all pretty into it. I’m like pro at Lute solos; I just like totally rock out…
Okay, I admit it. I need help. Send me to a psychiatric unit this instant and take Aelfbrick away before I seriously injure him, or anyone around me.
“You’re thinking again.” He said smiling. Oh, he wouldn’t smile if he knew how messed up my brain was.
“Guilty” I lifted my hands up off the table where they’d been tracing the print on the kitsch table cloth.
“You know,” he began thoughtfully “this must have been a lot for you to take in.”
“Hmm…”
“But still, I hope you understand the gravity of the situation.” he continued, “ People would, and will, kill, for that kind of information.”
“And would you?” I knew that the truth is rarely pure and never simple.
“Well…” he smiled wryly at me “I might still have to, if you don’t behave yourself. And believe me it is tempting.” He leaned across the table and gently flicked the single plait that snaked around my neck and over one shoulder.
“Right back at you” I grinned. He shrugged as if to say “fair enough” took another sip of marshmallowy goo and pushed it away.
“Let’s go out.” I said after a while, pushing myself up from the chair and holding out my hands to him.
“Why?” He looked puzzled and unwilling.
“Well, we have hardly any food left and there’s some stuff I need to sort out.”
“Ok” he smiled taking my hands and getting up. “Let’s go.”
I tilted my head and looked up at him. His ease and good looks made him distinctive, he’d attract a lot of attention even without the help of his Elvin ears.
“What’s up Fluffkin?” he smiled and looked back down at me.
“Nothing. I just need some money.” I smiled back, dropped his hands and headed from the kitchen towards the little chest that sat on the table by the front door. Mum stored everything in there. Including the house keeping money.
I hummed to myself as I rifled through brightly coloured feathers, long forgotten broken jewellery and discarded clock parts. “Screw the ears,” I thought to myself as I reached the bottom of the trinket box and scrabbled around the green velvet for the catch to the false lining. “If anyone asks he’s one of those weird people who had plastic surgery…” I began on a tangent from my original thoughts, the kind that took me a while to trace back to the logic that had given way to madness. “Like Katie Price…but not like Katie Price…”
Five minutes later I managed to lock up successfully, without shutting any tails in the door. I shoved the notes into my purse as Aelfbrick surveyed the lakeyness of the Lake District around him. I dragged him from the porch through the gate and down the gravel track that led to the rest of the world.
Usually, I would have taken my bike or the bus, yet I felt that introducing Aelfbrick to public transport or teaching him how to ride a bike would be just too much, for me mostly, due to the amount of questions he asks.
“Come on.” I grabbed his hand and led him down the dirt track, the crunching of the gravel signalling the beginning of a long walk.
