Leaving London

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

"Fearne!" I blink open my eyes to hear someone bellowing my name. Resisting the urge to sleep, and avoiding the clutches of Dream world, I sleepily push back my curtains and make my way downstairs, after punching my advent-calendar-chocolate out of it's wrapper. Today it's a chocolaty reindeer which I consume in about three seconds. I locate Jake who is stood amongst a huge collection of brown boxes, Styrofoam and instruction manuals, whilst busy looping tape measures around pieces of chairs...it looks like Mum's furniture arrived then.

"What are you doing?" I panic, taking in the mess of drawers and boxes sprawling over the carpet, with screwdrivers and nails dotted about the place.

"I'm measuring." He says, his tongue pointing out in concentration.

"Jake...that's not how you're supposed to do it...you have to assemble the different parts with screws and joints and stuff."

"I don't have time for that," He mutters, randomly plonking the drawers on top of each other, "I'll ask Dad when he gets back from work. Anyway, Mum's gonna try help with the screws and stuff, she's fetching some more tools. I think I know what I'm doing, Fearne. I do woodwork at school, I'm measuring to see where everything fits."

"Yeah, I think you should wait for Dad..." I bite back a laugh, "Anyway why did you shout me?"

"Oh...Lara was at the door for you, she was asking whether you wanted to go round to hers later or something? I can't remember..."

"Okay, thanks!" I beam, and grab a glass of water as I head upstairs.

"Ouch!" I scowl to myself as my toe stubs onto the banister, a routine occurrence which happens all the time on these stairs.

I message Lara as I plop down onto my bed, my hair piling into folds on the duvet cover. Lara messages back, telling me to be at hers as soon as I can. I dress, stuff my things into a bag and aim for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mum asks sternly, surfacing from the garage holding a larger screwdriver in her hand.

"Over to Lara's?" Doubt fills my voice.

"Not without asking, you aren't!" I roll my eyes. Jeez, my parents need to lighten up a bit.

"Okay, sorry, can I go over to Lara's for a bit? I'll be back before tea." I sigh, receiving a curt nod and I scurry off down the drive. I re-read the text message Lara sent me giving directions to her house, and I follow the instructions until I get to her gate. Her house is colossal, all glossy white walls, potted plants and wooden swing seats. And that's just the outside.

Lara beckons me inside, where I'm introduced to her parents. Her Dad offers a quick grunt of a greeting, and turns back to his laptop. Her mum smiles at me over a mug of herbal tea, and seems to drift through the house like some sort of beautiful spirit, all floaty clothes and dangly earrings and loose ringlets.

"Sorry to bore you with them." Lara mutters, as I follow her up the stairs into her room.

"Haha, that's okay." I say, and then gasp as I see her bedroom. It's a converted attic, with whitewash beams stretching across the roof, and even her own little balcony, attached to long, glass-panel doors. A string of fairy lights adorns a cosy desk, scattered with candles and notebooks and photo frames.

"Sorry about the mess." She huffs, swiping an arm over the desk to clear it, allowing me to plonk my bag down.

"The mess?" I laugh, "Your room is so nice!"

"Thanks," She mumbles, "It's not really my style, more my mum's. See, everything has to be vintage - even though it's a modern home!" She picks up a lighter from a drawer, and hovers it over her candles until they flicker and gutter, the flame dragging with it the thin scent of raspberry and mint. The lighter even has little buds of flowers decorated onto it.