Becoming Edward
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Faye Meredith
Becoming Edward
Copyright © Faye Meredith 2011
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and
incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales
or organisations is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form
or by any means without the prior permission of the author.
Chapter 1
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Cindy had the book in her mouth. Not just any book, but Rachel’s favourite one. Rachel watched in agony as a long finger of drool spilled across the cover of Twilight and abseiled down the side. The gloopy liquid wasted no time bleeding into its pages.
Rachel reacted instinctively. She ran at the dog and tried to snatch the book away from its muscular jaws.
‘Drop it,’ she said. But the dog’s stalactite fangs had it firmly imprisoned. Rachel would have had more luck pulling Excalibur out. ‘Drop it now. Come on, Cindy. Please.’
Rachel pulled and pulled but Cindy just bit down harder. Rachel winced as she saw the dog’s teeth puncture the hard front cover.
‘No, Cindy, No. Bad dog.’
Cindy wagged her tail and let out a playful snort.
‘Please, Cindy, let go.’ Rachel was getting desperate and tried twisting the book sideways, quickly to the left, then to the right. She thought this might dislodge it or catch Cindy off guard. Not a chance. Her mouth was anchored around the book and nothing was going to change that. She was simply too strong. Rachel carried on jiggling even though it was hopeless.
Cindy thought this was the start of a new game and responded by violently shaking the book from side to side in that way dogs do, like they’ve just caught a rabbit. The sharp powerful jerks nearly pulled Rachel’s arms out of her sockets.
Though her name sounded like it belonged to a cute yappy dog, Cindy was nothing of the sort. She was a fearsome-looking Staffordshire Bull Terrier with a cannonball head, vast scything jaws and a strong compact body. She had a murderous look in her eye but Rachel knew her better. At heart, Cindy was a big dopey softie who slept on her bed and whimpered every time the doorbell rang.
Rachel’s mum had bought her as more of a security measure than a pet. They lived on an estate where they were constantly serenaded by the sound of breaking glass and car alarms. For a single mum and her daughter, a hard-looking dog like Cindy was better than having a man around. She was certainly more loyal and affectionate than her dad had ever been. All Cindy needed were walks, food and cuddles. Rachel loved her to bits, but not at this moment.
Cindy had a knack for taking things that Rachel loved and ripping them to shreds. The last time she did this was with a pair of Top Shop leggings. Rachel’s mum didn’t have much money so buying new clothes for her daughter was a rare treat. Whenever it happened, mum and daughter would make a day of it, heading into town and doing plenty of window shopping, followed by a coffee. They would leave their purchase to last, savouring the anticipation. Rachel proudly wore her leggings out of the shop, attracting admiring looks from every boy she passed. Then, the next day, they simply vanished.
The whole thing had been a bizarre mystery until one day when she had cleaned Cindy’s teeth. Her breath was rank and Rachel attacked them with an old toothbrush. She found something stuck between two of Cindy’s molars. Rachel pulled out a shred of black material. Her leggings hadn’t disappeared, they’d been eaten. Rachel was heartbroken but found it impossible to get angry with Cindy. She was like an annoying baby sister who took all your stuff, except this baby didn’t know her own strength.
Her Twilight book was a different matter. This was serious. This was irreplaceable.
It was a super-rare first edition. The only reason it was in Rachel’s possession was because she’d been a fan right from the beginning, long before the phenomenon had swept like forest fire through a million teenage bedrooms.
It was back in 2006 before any of her friends had even heard of Twilight. Rachel had been trawling the bookshops to find something new to read when a strange haunting book caught her attention. Back then, Twilight didn’t have its iconic apple cover and, by contrast, that first UK edition looked eerie and unsettling. A haunted-looking Bella Swan stared out of the cover. She had deep melancholy eyes, a sharp black bob and one of those faces that followed you around the room. She looked terrified. A modern-day Mona Lisa minus the smile. Rachel remembered how she couldn’t take her eyes off her, it was hypnotic. She’d bought the book on impulse, almost as if it had called out to her.
The day she bought that book was the day her life changed. Obsession rapidly followed and after reading it several times, Rachel had sent the book back to the publisher with return postage, asking if there was any chance Stephenie Meyer could sign it. After three long months, the book returned shielded in bubble wrap and brown paper. Rachel had carefully unpicked the packaging with the delicacy of a surgeon. She closed her eyes and opened the cover.
When her eyelids finally lifted, her gaze fell upon a bold swooping glossy black signature covering nearly the entire first page. It had a vast commanding ‘S’ written almost like a figure eight, and a small wiggly flourish at the end. Rachel stared at it for hours until the shape of the signature was seared onto her retinas.
As time passed and Twilight became more and more popular, the book’s value soared. It was probably worth thousands. Rachel would never sell it of course. It was worth more to her than money. It was a precious treasure that not even the most dedicated fans knew about. Only a few people in the world owned a copy with the Bella Swan cover, and Rachel felt like she was part of an exclusive club.
She had wondered who else owned one like this. Were they like her? Perhaps she could start a forum and get in touch with them.
There was now a strong possibility this would never happen, not now her beloved book was about to be digested by a demented mutt. It currently looked like the Volturi themselves had been attacking it.
Rachel tried pulling Cindy’s jaws apart. They were set like concrete. Just then there was a loud crack as the spine of the book broke. The dog looked up at Rachel for some reaction, as if she should be impressed. Rachel saw the book go limp and then pages started falling out. There was no way back now. The book was lost.
The signed first page slid out onto the floor, Rachel made a grab for it but Cindy was too quick. It was gobbled up and swallowed in seconds. The rest of the book, if you could call it a book now, lay between Cindy’s club-like paws. It looked as if it had been run over by a lawn mower and marinated in saliva.
‘You horrible, horrible, ugly dog,’ Rachel said.
She didn’t mean it, and it was her own stupid fault for leaving the book on the side while she had gone to make a cup of tea. Rachel knew what Cindy was like. What had she been thinking? It was too late now.
Rachel stood back and let the dog have its prize. Cindy continued shaking the book, sending strings of phlegm and shreds of soggy paper in the air. She growled and mumbled contentedly. Rachel’s shoulders sagged as she left the lounge.
Closing the door behind her she could still hear the sound of her wonderful book being pulped by Cindy’s relentless gnashing.
Rachel half-fell, half-sat on the floor and began to sob. Small spherical tears pushed their way out through her large brown eyes. They ran down her pale cheeks like little ball bearings. Her book, the thing that meant everything to her, was now just a small mound of papier-mâché.
For Rachel, Twilight had everything
a girl could want: romance, action, magic, glamour and danger. But most of all it had Edward. If she was honest with herself that was the real reason she kept returning to the book again and again. He was the perfect man, although that wasn’t strictly true, as he wasn’t a man at all, but a vampire. He was fiercely in love with Bella, a human girl, and it was his endless devotion to her that was so appealing.
Their love was special, it was the type you’d die for and that was what Rachel wanted; the kind of love that makes you delirious and do stupid things. Rachel was a hopeless romantic but she was also a realist. These two sides of her were in constant conflict. What she wanted was impossible and there was no real-life equivalent of Edward out there for her. All the guys she met were stupid and just wanted to get their hands down her top.
It was the reason Rachel had not been out with anyone for ages. No-one quite measured up to Edward and over time she’d developed this defensive aura around her, warning every boy to stay away. They all thought she was stuck up, which wasn’t true - she was merely waiting for her Edward to come along. She wouldn’t mind if she met him in a bus station or if he worked in Pizza Hut. It was just falling madly and uncontrollably in love with someone that mattered to her.
The front doorbell rang. Rachel inhaled deeply and used her cuff to blot her wet eyes. Crossing the tiny hallway of her mum’s flat, she walked down the stairs and knew instantly who it was. Through the frosted half-glazed door she saw the familiar shape of her friend Cassie and her unpredictable hair. Today it was spiked up and leaning over to one side like she’d been standing in a force 8 gale. Rachel opened the door to Cassie’s ear-wide smile.
‘Hey, mate, what you up to?’ Cassie’s joyful greeting swiftly turned to concern when she saw Rachel’s bloodshot eyes, ‘Rach, have you been crying? Is everything okay?’ Cassie put her arms around her friend’s shoulders.
‘The bloody dog ate Twilight,’ Rachel said through a fresh set of tears.
‘Don’t worry, you can buy another one.’
‘I can’t it was my first edition.’
‘Not the signed one?’
‘Yep.’
‘Oh, Rachel, I’m sorry. We’ll get you another one. I’ve just been paid and Mr Levins gave me a bonus for doing an extra shift last night, so I’m flush…’
‘Cassie, it’s impossible to replace, it’d cost thousands to get another one.’
‘Oh. Well, er how about I make you a cup of tea, we’ll figure something out.’
‘Okay.’
The two girls walked up the narrow stairs and into the tiny flat. They sat sipping tea from chipped mugs in a kitchen that had been in desperate need of a makeover since 1986.
‘So how did the dog get hold of the book?’ Cassie said.
‘Well, I’d just finished reading it …’
‘What, again? Haven’t you read it like ten times already?’ Cassie put her cup down hard on the table.
‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’ Rachel looked away and played with her hair.
‘Nothing. Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but some people might say you’re a bit obsessed.’
‘I am not obsessed,’ Rachel said.
‘Wow, that didn’t sound like someone who’s obsessed at all.’
‘Look, I just like the books okay.’ Rachel took several large gulps of tea.
‘Yep, so do I, I love them. But it’s like they’re taking over your life.’
‘Why are you having a go at me?’
‘I’m not. It’s only a book,’
‘It’s not just a book, okay.’
‘Okay, take it easy, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. We used to have such a laugh together, now it seems like your mind’s always in Twilight land.’
‘Cass, I swear I’m not obsessed with Twilight.’ Rachel looked Cassie in the eye. ‘It’s not that at all. It’s just that it’s made me realise something that makes me sad whenever I think about it.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, don’t laugh, but I’m worried that true love doesn’t exist, apart from in books and movies. That there isn’t an Edward for me, or if there is we might miss each other.’
Rachel slumped back in her seat. Nobody was supposed to know her little secret. But it had just popped out, Cassie was probably going to think she was a freak.
‘Wow, that’s heavy,’ said Cassie.
‘But do you know what I mean?’ Rachel said, ‘You could spend your whole life looking for the one - the ying to your yang or whatever - but what happens if you never bump into them or cross paths? Doesn’t that scare you?’
‘I’ve never really thought about it but whatever, we should be having a laugh not worrying about this sort of stuff. We’re not our mums.’ Cassie stood up and started fiddling with a packet of biscuits. The ones at the top were all broken and fell on the floor. ‘Sorry.’ She knelt down and swept up the crumbs with her hands. Rachel took no notice.
‘Both our mums never found Mr Right, did they?’ said Rachel, ‘They settled for second best and now they spend their evenings alone watching crap game shows.’
‘Rach, that’s what most people do,’ Cassie said with her mouth full.
‘I suppose.’
‘It’s not that I don’t believe in true love,’ said Cassie, ‘it’s just that books and movies are rosier than real life, you know? In real life you can be madly in love with someone but you also have to do boring things like washing up and homework. And anyway, there could be hundreds of different people that could be your true love, why does it have to be just one? It might be an Edward, but it could also be a Jacob, or even a Carlisle.’
‘Are you saying I should go out with someone’s dad?’
‘You know what I mean. Look why don’t we go into town and I’ll buy you a new copy of Twilight and something else - something different to read.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘No, I want to. We could go to Books ‘n’ Beans and see Clive. He always knows what’s good to read.’
‘Okay you’re on. If we run now, we’ll just make the bus.’
Chapter 2
*
Only one of Lewis’ eyes would open. The other one was stuck down like the lid on an old tin of paint. His good eye, the one on the left, had the beginnings of a headache hovering somewhere over his eyebrow. Several flies made doodles in the air above him and it took Lewis a few minutes to register that something odd was going on.
He hadn’t made it back to his bed last night; he hadn’t even made it indoors. He was lying on his back on some grass, staring up at a blue sky that was starting to annoy him. He tried to turn over away from its glare and realised he couldn’t. There beside him was a sleeping girl whose arm was entangled in his.
Lewis groaned. Who the hell was she and where had he picked her up from? Try as he might, his brain still soggy with sleep, simply refused to give up that information.
He had to get out of there now otherwise he risked waking her up and then things would really get complicated. There would be the embarrassing name-guessing and the awkward attempt at saying see you around, by which Lewis really meant hope I don’t see you around.
She had long straight streaky blonde hair and a short pale blue designer dress that barely skimmed her bum. One hand was clutching a bag with a gold logo on it, probably designed to broadcast to other girls how monumentally expensive it was and for boys not to come near her unless they were drowning in disposable income.
Lewis was a walking girl magnet. Females couldn’t resist him and he was happy to oblige, but only temporarily. Girls just fell at his feet and he couldn’t help being the greediest kid in the candy store. Broken hearts followed him wherever he went. His looks didn’t help. Lewis had thick light brown hair that reached far enough to caress the tops of his wide right-angled shoulders. His hair fell around his face framing a pair of finely sculptured cheekbones which led down to a strong jaw and a firm chin. Whichever way you looked at him all th
e angles were perfect and intoxicated every girl who saw him - one try and they were hopelessly addicted.
He took the girl’s arm and disentangled it from his own with the care of someone diffusing a bomb. She murmured and turned over. Lewis held his breath. When he was sure he hadn’t disturbed her from her grassy slumber, he stood up, slowly acclimatising to being vertical.
His right eye gradually opened like a flower after a long winter. It was then he realised where he was. The large sprawling garden of his parents’ home spread out all around him. The problem of what to do with the mystery girl had now become a no-win situation. He had to get her out of here but this meant waking her up. Whatever happened, she would know where he lived – a thought that sent a juggernaut of fear down his spine. Maybe she knew already. He had probably been showing off to her about where he lived. That sort of thing worked on girls like her. Lewis wanted to shout and curse and punch himself for being such a dick. You never crap in your own back yard, or back garden in this case.
Becoming Edward Page 1
