Through Adversity To The Stars

Chapter 3 - Hardly A Love Story At All

My body had already sunken into the sofa, the brown leather surrounding me and my embarrassment of sitting there, waiting there for the teenage heartthrob.
"A meal should suffice," Father smiled as he glided his fingertips along the cookbooks no one in this house had used except for Madam, the hired chef.
I was dreading the social interaction between manager and client, between the families. With all of the actors and actresses we did this, sharing a meal with a pointless discussion about one and other that we will never have to remember again. I was awaiting for the Saunders to leave Father and his business because that's what everyone did, why would they be any different? Even if Saunders was already in most teenager's hearts, what happened to those after their moment in the limelight? They disappear, fade from everyone's mind until 10 years later when he is married with kids and no one cares.

"Elizabeth, dear, sit up," Mother told me eagerly, probably spotting them from the terrace, both doors open already with the night sky shining in.

My breath unexpectedly hitched as I did so, pushing my body to prop up. In he came, curly hair and smile so bright it looked as though it could be fake. He shook Father's and Mother's hands, just letting me and him hold eye contact for 2 seconds. His shirt was tropical, vibrant colours to match his expression. Mrs Saunders followed in after him, doing the exact same but coming to me to shake my hand. I gave a pleasant smile, only letting my eyes shift slightly to watch Saunders take no notice of me. "Dinner?" Father asked them both, 'of course' seemed to be their reply. I followed the crowd out through the drawing room and to the other side of the house, outside where Mother had tried to make the place seem presentable.
Everyone took their seats, Saunders being head of the table and me at the far end, not seeing his face properly, not seeing his gleaming expression any longer.
Father had presented one of those dinners where you could pick what you want from the dish. None seemed to appeal to me, only picking a few carrots that Mother and Father still insisted was to help me see in the dark. "So, Alexander, what are your plans for the future?" Mother persisted to ask him.

I could sense the hesitation in his breath, "well, I of course would like to maybe," he peers over at his mother, "do more roles."

"Oh yes, you were in that film that was a book. Elizabeth, didn't you like the film?" Mother asked cluelessly even though she knew the answer full well.

I stabbed my carrot with my fork, letting it sit there with the blades in it. "The book, mostly." His eyes met mine for the second time I had known about him. The blue circles only meeting for seconds before he ripped them away, digging into his food. I tried to mimic him but nothing on my plate interested me.

Mother put her knife and fork down for a second, giving me a different smile that I wasn't expecting, "didn't you like - oh what was his name?"

"Andrew Hayes." Saunders peaked up from his food, the third time we made eye contact. I didn't want to count the times we had done this, I just found myself doing so.

Mother gave him a pleasant smile, "yes, of course! Better than Mr Knightley?" She referred to Emma by Jane Austen, quite possibly the best book she had ever written in my eyes.
I shrugged her off, not wanting to say much more in case I slipped up.

"Sir," Saunders started up the realm of conversation again. I didn't let myself look up at him, "where is the best place to swim? I was wondering about swimming today but things took a change."

"There is a small private lake we have a couple yards away. Elizabeth could take you to it some time," just like town. I felt as though my parents only needed me that Summer to guide Saunders places.

Mrs Saunders nodded, like she was trying to get her food down her throat ready to speak, "yes, why don't you two play tennis or something, to take things off of Alexander's mind? Just please out of the public eye." I was confused if I was meant to be Saunders babysitter for the whole of the remaining 7 weeks. Or was I supposed to be his entertainer? Both?

Saunders looked at me and when I say looked at me, I mean he held it, more than before, making me feel noticed. "I don't think that'd suit, Elizabeth," as soon as he mentioned my name, his eyes focused back on his plate. I let mine linger on him. For some peculiar reason, he stuck out to me. I knew it wasn't just because of Andrew Hayes.

I leant back in my chair a little, not too far that he'd be out of my sight, "I wouldn't mind if you don't."

"Not at all," he placed his cutlery down in line with each other.

Father smiled at me and then to him, "then it's settled!"

"Please don't let anyone see you," his mother worried again, the atmosphere somehow swishing to a different, unusual one I had only ever experienced when I had been told off by Mother or Father when I had been much younger.

-

We were back where we started; the drawing room with the doors swung open and a soft breeze cooling us. I held my stomach, trying to make out that I too had too much to eat, even if it was most definitely quite the opposite.
Saunders came to sit on the sofa too, on the other end, him doing the same. He had disappeared for a while, he had explained he needed to check on something but unless that something was back in England, it shouldn't of taken so long.
Mother, Father and Mrs Saunders sat by the sad piano that hadn't been played since I was learning, never to be touched again. Laughter every so often sprung from the group but I had no interest or motivation to get involved. In all truthfulness, I wanted to sleep but no, Mother and Father told me that was far too rude for this special occasion.

I sensed Saunders thinking, for I did not know what about, but his behaviour changed. He was no longer reserved and mysterious, only changing to a little reserved and mysterious. "Have you ever read Romeo & Juliet?" The question was out of the blue, unexpected in fact. His head was slanted towards me.

"Of course. Why do you ask?" I only let myself turn my head slightly, not ready to look at him full on, up front. His voice was far too soft, the podcast I was dreaming of would of made me drift off.

Saunders shifted his body to face me, "don't you think it's stupid? I mean, it's hardly a love story at all." I nodded, agreeing because my mind couldn't comprehend his new persona, "I'm beginning to believe love is just a made up word for imaginary bliss." Our eyes met but his had changed to a red at the sides.

"Are you -?" I begin to ask if he was okay, in the right state of mind. My voice had become a sort of whisper too because of his, as if we were keeping a secret.

"Ah, we'd best be of. A wonderful evening, thank
you both," Mrs Saunders stood up from her seat with the greatest smile I had seen on her so far. But that suddenly changed when she saw Saunders out of it. The smile still sat on her face, reminiscing the real happiness that once was there into a more fake and put on one.

He stood up, limbs looking floppy. His eyes met mine; the fourth time. "Until tomorrow," he spoke down to me, no emotion really displayed in honour of a goodbye. Mother and Father waved them out as they went the way they came, Saunders resting his side of his mother as they trailed back.