Past? What Past?! [ F I N I S H E D ]

Past? What Past! Part10

Recap:

"Please don't tell Harry," she whispered softly. "Please, Abi."

"I won't. But I think you should get Vanessa out the picture, then wait a couple of months and break it slowly to Harry what's going on. He'll find out eventually, and I think he'd rather hear it from you guys than find out another way. I won't tell him - I pinky promise." I held out my pinky and Hayley wrapped her delicate pinky around it, and we shook. "Now, I'll distract Harry, and you get Liam in here slyly and sit down and talk." I paused, "then kiss the crap out of him."

After finishing my conversation with Hayley, I left Aurora (because Hayley wanted to look after the little sweetie) and casually strolled down the hall to the large marble staircase. I had a good look at the hall, which I had been unable to look at before due to Hayley dragging me away to her room to chat.

The stairs were a white marble with no banister. The floor of the hall was black marble and the walls were white. I walked down the stairs, my feet making a quiet noise. There was indeed a white baby grand piano in the hall that sat underneath the curving stairs. Before the piano was a white leather piano stool. There was a large chandelier at the top of the high ceiling, emphasising the James' luxurious household.

The hall went four ways: up, out, left, right.

Outside was a large gravel driveway leading up to this massive white house with black roof that I was in. Three cars sat outside: a black Audi TT with a registration "J4M3S 1"; a black Audi Q7 with a registration "J4M3S 2"; a green Vauxhall Corsa with a large dent in it, with an 02-registration plate. Made in 2009? This was 2015! The Corsa belonged to Harry and when he came home with it, his father had said to him: "you HAD to ruin the black and white chic thing, didn't you?"

Upstairs was a white corridor with five black doors leading off it. Oh, and one badly painted blue door. Guess who that belonged to? Hayley told me this was the door to Harry's bedroom. He had repainted it at the age of fifteen when his Dad was in Toronto on a business trip. Apparently, his dad was furious when he returned, but tried not to show it. There was a room for Harry, a room for Hayley, a room for Bradley (when he wanted to stay over at his family home), a room for Harry's dad, a room for Harry's dad's study and a spare guest room, fully furnished for a long term lodger. No one was sleeping in that room now, but it had originally belonged to Harry's mum's dog because "Jamie-poo" needed his own room.

To the left was the loud noise of rugby being played on TV - Scotland vs. Ireland if I wasn't mistaken, and I don't think I was. I heard the loud noise of the Scottish captain, Gary Peebles, as he prepared to get the team organised into a scrum. I imagined Samuel Black and Sandy Thompson in position ready to go. I could picture Lewis Clutton in his place too, back from his time in Iraq. Clutton's girlfriend was relieved Lewis was back in Scotland and safe. I used to go to school with Lewis' girlfriend, Lucy.

To the right the smell of sizzling sausages wafted my way. I assumed to my right was the kitchen. A sausage roll sounded amazing - I might have to buy one for Greggs before I settled down to sleep in Bernie. I wasn't going back to Aunt Satan's house.

I walked to my left, wanting to watch Scotland hammer Ireland. There was no way they could loose with the team they had now. I thought about the team that they had in 2010. With Custard - I mean Cusiter - as our captain, no wonder we did so badly in the Six Nations. Won: 1. Drew: 1. Lost: 3. Pathetic - truly pathetic. Even ITALY beat us! No disrespect to the Italians - I love them for pizza and ice-cream and pasta. Well, whatever, that's in the past, and now we have some amazing players that came from my part of Scotland. Hell to the yeah!

Walking into the living room, my eyes grew wide. This room was yellow - really bright yellow. It was like heaven! I loved the colour yellow. However, only two walls were yellow. The back one that led outside was a wall of windows. The wall to the left of the wall of windows was a wall of a TV set. It was like a home cinema! There was even a popcorn maker in the room, and a pick 'n' mix section. For crying out loud!

There was a large lime green corner sofa in the room as well, and I found Harry sitting on it, watching the screen intently. I silently sat down beside him and pointed to the player on the screen. He had brown hair flopping over his hair carelessly - I had never seen him with a hairbrush before. His brown eyes were piercing and his smile used to make me smile too. His name was Peter Richardson.

"I used to date him. He used to go to my school," I told Harry. "That was before Cal. Then Pete went off to play ruggers, and so we broke up and I ended up dating Cal."

"Man," Harry said, "what I would've paid to see you before Cal and this bloke. I wonder if you were the same."

"I kiss better now," I told him. Then I stretched and pecked him on the cheek. This didn't satisfy Harry as he turned and grabbed my face and slammed his lips against mine hungrily. We started battling for dominance as we kissed and, seeing Harry's desperate thirst, I succumbed and let him take charge, enjoying the feeling of his lips against mine. His tongue casually exploring my mouth.

I heard the light padding of two feet going down the marble staircase. Two minutes later I heard the unmistakable sound of four feet going up the marble staircase. Seems Hayley managed to sneak Liam into the house. However, I didn't stop kissing Harry, we continued and only stopped when we heard a loud cheering.

Jumping apart, we looked around the room, searching for the cheering crowd. Then it dawned on me, and I slumped back on the sofa, laughing, covering my eyes with a hand.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It was the TV," I laughed at my stupidity. The moment wasn't ruined, but the rugby was getting interesting. Scotland was meters away from the touchdown. Gary had the ball, he ran through a gap in Ireland's defence, Ireland enclosed themselves around Gary, focusing on the captain, before they brought him down, Gary passed back to Lewis, who ran forward with the entire Irish squad running after him, one Irish player caught Lewis' heel, so he threw the ball to Samuel who ran and kept running straight under the H and put the ball down on the muddy grass,

"TRY!" I screamed, jumping up and throwing my arms in the air as I danced with delight. The score was 20-14 to Scotland. The referee blew his whistle, signalling that it was a forward pass. "NO!" I shrieked. "No! No way! That was NOT forward! C'mon, ref! Be serious!" The tape played of the 'forward pass'. It showed Lewis throw the ball BACK to Samuel as he ran forward and caught it, centimetres behind Lewis. See that was NOT a forward pass! The commentators disputed whether it was forward or not. I turned to Bradley, who was laughing at me. "Was that forward?" I asked him.

"Nah, it didn't look like it," he told me, studying the clip being played over and over.

"Thank you!" I said, exasperated. I glared at the referee on the big TV screen, talking to his side referees and people with the screens in front of them.

The whistle was blown - try to Scotland.

"Thank you," I repeated in the same exasperated tone.

"Oh, Abi," Harry laughed. "I'm glad I met you. You're so funny. I can see you brightening my life up easily."

© Zoe A Proudfoot

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Part10? Already? Man. I'm quite impressed with myself, tbh. None of my work is suffering right now (well, History is, and i supposedly love History, but i'm going to do it in a minute :P) and i'm still finding time to write :O! I've got a really bad cold at the moment, which is why I had the chance to write this up :).

So, I hope you enjoyed, and there is going to be tonnes of drama heading your way soon! Keep your eyes peeled for Part11!!

xxxx