Faye Meredith - Becoming Edward

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Faye Meredith - Becoming Edward Page 15

by Faye Meredith


  She called them to see if they needed any help, but unfortunately the shop had more volunteers than customers. Olivia resigned herself to wandering around the empty house trying to find something to occupy her day.

  Usually around this time she’d make a pot of coffee and sit and read Twilight, but she’d finished the last book yesterday. It had left a huge hole in her life and she could see why people got obsessed with it. She desperately missed all the characters and expected to bump into them either around town or on the beach. Reading Twilight had made her want to live in their world and be friends with them. This feeling made her understand why Lewis had changed his image. She still didn’t think it was healthy or right, but at least she could see where he was coming from.

  Olivia needed another Twilight hit but she didn’t want to start reading the books again just yet – it was far too soon. So she decided instead to watch the movies again. She made herself a large latte, grabbed a generous wedge of her mum’s homemade carrot cake and walked down to the cinema. She put the DVD into the machine and slouched into a seat. That was when she noticed there were several sheets of typed paper held together with a staple lying on the chair next to her. She picked them up and took a closer look. The title read: A Love Like Blood by Clive Richardson.

  Curiosity got the better of her and she began to read the first few lines just to see what it was about. By the third sentence she was hooked and forgot about watching the film. Half an hour later, Olivia heard the front door open. She climbed the stairs to see Lewis standing in the hallway, rubbing his eyes. Olivia still had Clive’s story in her hands.

  ‘Hi, Lewis,’ she said. ‘Do you know where this came from?’

  ‘Er, let me see,’ Lewis said, squinting at the words printed on the front. ‘Oh, that fell out of Rachel’s bag. I think it’s one of her essays.’

  ‘But why has it got Clive Richardson written on it?’

  ‘Dunno, she’s got an odd friend called Clive. Maybe it’s his.’

  ‘Have you read it? The story’s really good -’ Olivia stopped mid sentence as she caught a glimpse of his eyes. Lewis instantly turned away. ‘Lewis, what the hell’s wrong with your eyes?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Let me see,’ Olivia said, spinning him around. ‘Oh no.’

  The pupils of Lewis’ eyes, which were normally a glacial blue, had become honey coloured and around the outside they were sore and bloodshot. Tears ran down his cheeks like his face had sprung a leak.

  ‘You’re wearing coloured contact lenses,’ Olivia said.

  Lewis immediately turned away. ‘Yeah, so what?’

  ‘So what? You’ve become an Edward clone and this time, I don’t care what you think, it is creepy.’

  ‘I told you, it’s for Rachel.’

  ‘Really? What does she think of this new image? I bet she doesn’t think it’s normal.’

  ‘She hasn’t seen it yet, but I’m meeting her on Saturday. We’re going to Aruba’s. Wanna come?’

  ‘Not with you looking like that. You’re like one of those sad people you see on daytime TV.’ As Olivia turned to go she caught a glimpse of something shiny and silver parked outside on the drive.

  ‘Oh my God, Lewis, what is that?’

  ‘That’s a Volvo C30. Like it?’

  ‘No I don’t. I liked your van. What happened to it?’

  ‘I traded it in. Did you know, this is exactly like the one Edward drives.’

  ‘I was afraid you were going to say that. Lewis, listen to me, you have to stop this. You look ridiculous. You’re freaking me out. It’s like you’re possessed or something.’

  ‘You’re overreacting.’

  ‘Overreacting? Lewis you need help. This isn’t natural. You’re turning into a weirdo.’

  ‘Well I haven’t got a problem with it. You’re the one who needs to deal with it.’

  ‘Fine, you go and be a laughing stock, I don’t care. But this is only going to end badly and don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  *

  Standing at the tills in Books ‘n’ Beans, Clive found himself daydreaming. Ginster was saying something about time travel and how UFOs weren’t aliens but in fact advanced humans from the future who had travelled back in time to study the past. This was why governments covered up their existence because it would disrupt the space/time continuum or some nonsense like that.

  Ginster sincerely believed what he was saying and was banging on like some religious fanatic, but Clive had tuned out ages ago. His mind had floated off and was hovering in front of an image of Rachel. This made him hurt inside. After his little attempt at writing his way into her heart had failed, Clive was all out of ideas about how to get close to her. Worse still, he was beginning to think that Ginster was at least right about one thing: guys like him don’t get girls like her, and he certainly wasn’t any nearer to getting a six pack either. He felt his tummy, there was no six pack there, just a slight bulge that dug into the metal buckle of his belt. I bet Lewis has a six pack, thought Clive.

  ‘So where would you go, if you could travel back in time?’ asked Ginster.

  ‘What?’ said Clive.

  ‘Time travel.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Have you been listening?’ said Ginster, clicking his fingers in front of Clive's face.

  Clive blinked several times. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  ‘What period of time would you visit?’

  ‘Can I go forward in time?’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘Then I’d go to a time where technology is so advanced they can change your body and personality for a better one.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because the one I’ve got now is rubbish.’ Clive hung his head like a dog that had been smacked.

  ‘Hey, don’t talk like that, man. That sort of chat isn’t good for your soul. All you need is a bit of confidence. Are you still after that girl, Rachel? Is that what’s bothering you?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s all gone wrong. I hate to say it but I think you were right. She is out of my league.’

  ‘Sorry, man. I’m just keeping it real. What about Lynn? She likes you.’

  Clive looked over at Lynn who was helping a tiny old lady reach something on a high shelf. Lynn looked like an elongated version of Velma from Scooby Doo. She was very sweet, which was a good thing in Clive’s mind. He couldn’t ever imagine having arguments with her like he did with Rachel. But he didn’t exactly fancy her, there wasn’t that spark like there was with Rachel. Maybe he could grow to like her. It wasn’t the best basis for a relationship, but he had heard a lot of people grew to love each other. He supposed not everyone couple could have that lightning-bolt moment. Plus, Lynn was definitely in his league. He knew that already and he wouldn’t have to do all that ridiculous chasing.

  The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. It would be nice to have a girlfriend. He’d never really had a proper one before.

  ‘You know what, Ginster? I’m going to ask her out right now.’

  ‘That’s the way, take control. You the man, buddy,’ Ginster said, slapping Clive on the back.

  Ginster watched as Clive made a ruler-straight line for Lynn. The little old lady had gone and Lynn was trying to straighten a line of books that kept toppling like dominoes. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Clive approached her. Smiling nervously she pushed her glasses higher onto her nose with her index finger. Clive said something to her and she instantly looked away as if trying to search for an answer. Then she looked back at Clive with sad eyes. Ginster wished he could hear what the two were saying. Maybe Clive had bottled out and was asking her something mundane like if she’d seen the pricing guns.

  Suddenly Clive was back at the tills.

  ‘What did she say?’ asked Ginster.

  ‘That’s the last time I ever listen to you, Ginster, you idiot,’ growled Clive. His face was red and he wouldn’t look at him.

  ‘What’s the matter
? What did she say?’ said Ginster.

  ‘She said no, you git.’

  ‘I don’t understand. That was a dead cert.’

  ‘Ginster, you know less than nothing about women, and that’s being generous.’

  ‘Sorry, dude.’

  ‘Yeah, so am I. I'm going to lunch.’ Clive walked towards the store entrance.

  ‘But it's only 11 o'clock,’ Ginster called after him.

  Clive turned and faced him. ‘Well, I need to get as far away from you as possible. And thanks for building up my confidence and then kicking me in the nuts. Why don’t you give me a paper cut as well?’

  *

  Lewis had arranged to meet Rachel at the entrance to Bournemouth Gardens. The Gardens ran all the way through the town like a green sleeve, bisecting it in two. It was full of grassy areas, flowerbeds and trees. It also had a small stream that curled its way down to the sea, where Aruba’s sat like guardian above the beach.

  During the day, The Gardens were a breathing space in the midst of the hustle and bustle of shops, restaurants, traffic and department stores. At lunchtime they filled with 9 to 5 office workers who sat scoffing deli sandwiches and dreaming of going on holiday. But when the sun went down it was a different story. Night-time revellers would descend on the town and continually criss-cross the Gardens on their way to the town’s bars and clubs.

  Lewis waited on a bench and watched the strange sight of clubbers, pub crawlers and stag nights filtering through the greenery. A group of six hoodies sat on a bench opposite him. They looked too young to get into any of the pubs and too old to stay at home with mum and dad, so they just hung out, like hundreds of other teenagers hoping for something to happen on a Saturday night. They were just what Lewis was looking for.

  He stood up and walked over to them. They were all skinny and bounced around with boyish excitement like their limbs were made from elastic bands. Each one was identically dressed with a cap perched on their heads and a hood pulled over the top of it. They eyed Lewis carefully as he walked over. It wasn’t uncommon for vicious fights to break out in The Gardens.

  ‘Hi,’ said Lewis.

  None of them replied.

  ‘Want to make some money?’ said Lewis.

  ‘You gay or something?’ said the shortest one. He had the early signs of stubble on his chin. ‘You want to bum us for cash, homo?’

  The others laughed dopily. Lewis laughed too.

  ‘You little pricks have got it wrong,’ Lewis said, whipping out a wad of £50 notes. ‘There’s one of these for each of you if you play a little joke on my friend.’

  ‘What sort of joke?’ said the tallest boy.

  ‘All you have to do is pretend, and I mean pretend, to scare my friend. She’s a girl, so maybe just get a bit cheesy with her and start to chat her up, block her way and act threatening, but don’t touch her.’

  ‘Yeah, we can do that.’

  ‘When I show up, I want you to back away, like you’re really scared of me.’

  ‘You’re trying to impress this chick,’ said the short one.

  ‘Exactly.’

  The hoodies all laughed and did various hand shakes and slaps.

  ‘You are sad, man,’ said the one with the micro stubble.

  ‘Maybe.’ Lewis waved the wad of notes in front of them. ‘So do you wanna do this or not?’

  ‘Hell, yeah,’ they all said.

  Lewis handed them a £50 note each, which they all held above their heads like winning lottery tickets.

  ‘Now you get another one of these when the job’s complete. Watch for my signal, okay?’

  ‘Whatever you say, man.’ The group of teenage boys giggled and punched each other affectionately on the arm in celebration of their good fortune. If some nut wanted to give them cash to impress a girl, they were only too happy to accommodate.

  Lewis hid in the trees and watched them. He looked like Edward, now he wanted to prove it. His plan was simple and with any luck would work exactly like the scene from the first Twilight book where Bella gets lost in Port Angeles. She takes a wrong turn, ends up down a dark alley and gets surrounded by a group of thugs who have only one thing on their mind. Just before they attack, Edward turns up and rescues her, looking fierce and menacing. He scares her attackers away without resorting to ripping their arms off, even though it takes all of his will power.

  Lewis replayed the plan in his head as he stood there watching and waiting. A few minutes later he saw the glorious sight of Rachel walking down the wide pathway. Her thick curly hair bobbed up and down as she walked. She was dressed in black jeans and a short cropped leather jacket. He was mesmerised momentarily, but managed to pull himself together as she got closer.

  Lewis stepped out slightly from behind the tree so the hoodies could see him but he was still hidden from her view. He pointed in her direction and the smallest hoodie put his thumb up, confirming he understood. Lewis sprinted back to his car, revved the engine and sped down a small access road that led to the gardens.

  Chapter 15

  *

  Rachel tried not to skip as she walked through the gardens. She was wearing a new jacket her mum had bought her. It wasn’t real leather, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything because tonight was the night she would meet the new Lewis. His change had been a signal to Rachel, a green light in her head telling her it was going to be okay. Lewis could be trusted - that was what she had decided. Now she had made the decision, her shoe-gazing days were over. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be happy. It was as delectable as chocolate and a thousand times more addictive. She wanted to binge on it for the rest of her life.

  She still had no proof he’d done all this for her, but in her heart she knew it was true. She couldn’t explain it, she didn’t need to, it was instinctive. All she wanted to do was see him and touch him and kiss him. Rachel walked past a pack of hoodies sitting on a bench. They looked young and stupid so she gave them a wide berth. She heard three of them jump off the bench and start walking behind her. The other three moved in front of her, blocking her path. It was as if it had been rehearsed.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ said the smallest one.

  Rachel instinctively moved to the side to avoid the confrontation, but one of the hoodies outflanked her so she couldn’t get past. She looked behind and saw she was surrounded.

  ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’

  ‘Get out of my way,’ Rachel replied without making eye contact.

  ‘We just want to chat,’ said the smallest hoodie, moving in closer. The others crowded around her so Rachel was trapped. This was no longer hormonal boys trying their luck, Rachel could sense an attack coming. Her heart quickened and her hands were damp with sweat. There was the strong possibility of another asthma attack coming, she didn’t have much time.

  ‘You fit, girl,’ said one of the hoodies behind her and the rest of the boys eyed her up and down. Rachel was petite and pretty, and very vulnerable. Looking like she did had always made her mum worry about her. So, when Rachel had started going out after dark, at the age of fourteen, her mum had enrolled her in self-defence classes. And she’d been doing them ever since. Rachel may have looked helpless, but she was certainly no Bella Swan. All those hours of training now kicked in.

  ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ said Rachel in a pretend weak voice. She held her hands up as if she were surrendering. The smallest hoodie bought straight into her charade. He leaned in close, too close.

  ‘We’re not going to hurt you …’ But before he could finish his sentence, Rachel had rammed the heel of her hand straight into his nose. The nasal cartilage crumbled under her palm.

  ‘Back off, dicksnot!’ Rachel snarled at the top of her voice.

  He squealed in pain. Grabbing his nose he collapsed on the floor. Blood spilled out between his fingers. The rest of the hoodies looked at their friend with a mixture of horror and confusion. Rachel seized the opportunity and swung a stilettoed boot high into the groin of the hoo
die standing nearest her. He too went down on the ground.

  *

  Lewis drove into view just in time to see his plan unravelling like a Primark jumper. The sight of Rachel laying out hoodies like Jet Li distracted him and he lost control of his car. Instead of doing an impressive power slide into the Gardens, the car disappeared into a huge Rhododendron bush. No-one, including Rachel, saw his dramatic entrance. Lewis managed to get the door open and fight his way through the monstrous undergrowth.

  He rushed over to the scene just as the hoodies dispersed. Lewis’ legs didn’t carry him fast enough. He came up behind Rachel, but she was still in attack mode. Her elbow automatically flew backwards like a piston. It landed squarely on Lewis’ nose and he felt the world around him begin to get fuzzy. His legs did a shimmy and then he was on the floor in a heap.

  He came to, a few seconds later. His nose throbbed and he tasted blood in his mouth. As he opened his eyes, he could see the blurred face of Rachel looking over him. She had a tissue in her hand that dripped with blood. She was trying unsuccessfully to stem the crimson flow from his nostrils. A few people had gathered around and were muttering about calling ambulances and how hoodies should be banned.

  ‘Lewis, Lewis? Is that you?’ Rachel’s voice was full of sweet concern. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t recognise you. You look so different.’

  ‘What happened?’ Lewis managed to say.

  ‘I think I elbowed you in the face. I’m so sorry. I thought you were trying to attack me.’

  The guilty reality of Lewis’ ridiculous plan resurfaced in his mind like a turd that wouldn't flush. Lewis groaned, not from the pain but because he was ashamed.

  ‘Lewis, you’re hurt. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you stand?’

  ‘I think so.’

  A couple of bystanders helped Rachel get him to his feet.

  ‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ he said, trying to play things down.

 

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