The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Part 36 - The Cuckoo

Melinda trips back from the bathroom, all clicking heels and wafting Jo Malone fragrance.  You watch as she pulls on her coat.   Brahms is close and listening.   You're sure he is.  You wish this woman would just leave.  In an effort to hurry her along, you step to the door and open it.

"Whoo!   It's getting more chilly out there," Melinda breathes with a little shudder you sense is fake.   "Goodbye, Y/N.  Thanks for your time."

"No problem.  Safe journey."

Melinda crunches across the gravel to the Audi.  She gets inside, fastening her seatbelt.  You're just about to close the door  with relief, when you see the  younger woman grimacing  at you as she struggles to start the car.   

"Brahms?" you hiss loudly over your shoulder,  hoping he'll hear.    Melinda is stepping from the car, cursing beneath her breath.   The hallway is silent save for the slow ticking of the grandfather clock.   "Oh, Christ..."  You open the door wide as she comes up the steps.   

"My battery's stone dead.   God knows why.   It was fine coming here.  Though come to think of it I've had some trouble starting up a few times this week.  Do you suppose the alternator's on the blink?"

You want to tell her you don't give two flying fucks about her alternator, but then feel a pang of guilt and dismay for being so mean spirited.  Are you becoming as socially withdrawn as Brahms?    Are you so insecure you think he'll find this woman more attractive than you?   Would he?  Does he?   You glance resentfully at the wood panelling of the hallway as though your thoughts might penetrate into Brahms's mind.  Why the hell doesn't he show himself?   More guilt.  Of course he won't show himself.   He never does to strangers.  

"Do you have breakdown, Melinda?"

She gives a little moue of apology.  "I let it lapse only last week.  How dumb am I?  I meant to renew yesterday  but...well...you know how it is."

No, I don't!  you want to snap. Does the smoke make it to the top of your chimney?  Instead, you say, "I think there's an auto mechanic in the village.  I can get you the number."

"You mean a garage?  Oh, yes, please."

You watch her dial, then pace up and down the hallway, chewing on one perfect nail.   "Damn!  There's no answer.  Saturday afternoon, you see.  Those mechanic types never work late, do they?  Looks like I'm stuck until Monday."

"There's a Holiday Inn in Wrexham.   I could take you."

She nods.  "I'll get my things from the car."   When she opens the door the light is already going from the day and it's started to snow.  You watch her hesitate on the step, staring up at the leaden sky, then over at your implacable expression.   To your horror, she bursts into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N.   Take no notice of me.   It's just...I'm so embarrassed about this and..."

You can't help but feel sorry for her.   What would it matter if she stayed a night or two?   She needn't see Brahms.   He  and you could use the hidden passages to move around her.  With a mix of trepidation and compassion you say, "It's OK.  I guess, you can stay here until Monday."

"Can I?  Oh, thank you so much!"

"Go get your things, Melinda.  I'll show you to your room."

~

You put her on the second floor in a little used room at the end of the west wing.   She slings a large holdall on the bed and you eye it suspiciously.  She seems very organised for a fleeting visit.  As though reading your thoughts, she says, "I never travel light.  Even when I'm just going out for the day."