| “Out with a Bang”
By Darren Rowe The Austral Bar & Grill 28 Spencer Street For many of Spencer Street’s residents the past 12 months had been a year of extreme hardship, tragedy, sacrifice and change, but as the final dying hours of 2008 wound down and the new dawn of 2009 crept closer, a jovial crowd of New Years revellers partied away the final moments of 2008 while the infectious, sugary sweet pop beats of Kylie Minogue’s hit single, Wow, rattled around the recently refurbished bar at a deafening volume. Taking pride of place above the crowded and heaving bar, a large digital clock, decorated in a bright splash of colourful balloons and streamers, counted down the final minutes of the year. 01:02:36 until 2009! Tucked away in a dimly lit corner at one of the few tables in The Austral, Georgia, Margot, Elizabeth, April, Sean, Hazel, Miles and Grace chatted and laughed amongst themselves as they celebrated the start of what would hopefully be a better and brighter year for all concerned. “Here we are.” Calvin, having fought his way through the sea of partygoers crammed into his bar like sardines, sighed with a soft smile as he placed a tray of drinks down in the centre of the small square table before passing them around. Accepting her icy pink cocktail from Calvin, Hazel held the plastic hot pink straw to lips and drew in a mouthful of the frosty beverage. “I was just saying to Georgia that your Oliver’s quite the groover.” Hazel motioned with a raised brow over to the crowded dancefloor where Oliver was dancing up a storm with Chloe and Chelsea. Looking over his shoulder at the dancefloor, Calvin couldn’t help but crack a small smile as he watched Oliver and Chloe command everyone’s attention with their somewhat provocative dance moves. “Well, he likes to think he is.” He smiled back at Hazel before taking his seat, leaving Chloe and Oliver to bump and grind against eachother in peace. “So, what is it you do?” Miles asked Sean as Calvin passed him his bourbon and cola. Although it had now been well over six months since he’d moved into Spencer Street and he’d seen Sean many times at the numerous dinner parties they’d both attended at the Hudson’s, Miles had yet to sit down and have an actual conversation with his new neighbour. “I’m a lawyer.” Sean half smiled at Miles. He hated how that was the first question everyone always asked when initiating conversation. Although he loved his job and the prestige and responsibility that came with it, Sean was growing tired of seeing the same expression on everyone’s face whenever he told them what he did for a living, the exact same expression he could see on Miles’ face. “Oh.” Miles smiled with a raised brow, trying not to sound as if he’d been seated next to the most boring person on Earth. Taking a sip of his beer, Sean returned the frosty glass to the table and licked the remnants from his lips. “Don’t sound so disappointed next time.” He smiled sarcastically, trying to lighten the dreadfully tense and stilted conversation. “No,” Miles quickly back peddled, as he struggled to hear Sean over the frivolous chatter of the hotel’s patrons and the shrill and nasally voice of Ms Minogue. “Its just you seem too cool to be a lawyer.” “Cool?” Sean chuckled to himself as he took another sip of his beer. If he was going to be sat next to the wet blanket that was Miles Lawson for the next hour he preferred to do it as drunk as possible. “Who uses cool nowadays?” “Well you know what I mean.” Miles began, swallowing a large gulp of his bourbon and coke. “All the lawyers I know are middle aged with receding hairlines and bulging stomachs.” “I don’t know whether to think you’re complimenting me or hitting on me.” Sean joked. “Look,” Miles grumbled in a coarse tone as he downed the remainder of his drink in one swift motion and slammed the small glass back down onto the table. “I’m just trying to make conversation, okay?!” Watching Miles leap from his seat and storm off towards the bar before disappearing in amongst the sea of partygoers, Sean sat shell-shocked, stunned at Miles’ short reply. “I didn’t mean…” he stammered, looking at Hazel with his mouth ajar. “Oh think nothing more of it, Sean.” Hazel sighed with a slightly bitter tone whilst tapping Sean’s hand comfortingly as if she’d seen it all a million times before. “He’s just in one of his moods.” Sean wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. He hadn’t meant to offend Miles but judging by his reaction, Sean was more than certain that any budding friendship between he and Miles was now dead and buried. “I really didn’t mean anything by it. I was just joking.” Taking another sip of her cocktail, Hazel moved her drink across the table towards Sean before sliding herself into Miles’ seat. “Sadly,” she began with a Bette Davis-esque smile, “unlike the rest of the human population, Miles is lacking a sense of humour. So what both you and I find light hearted comical banter, he sees as…well, God only knows what he sees it as, but he’ll be over it in five minutes, trust me.” Sean looked at Hazel, still bewildered by Miles’ outburst. As he replayed the conversation over in his mind, Sean continued to draw a blank as to what exactly he’d said that had set Miles off. Taking another sip of his beer, Sean looked over at the dancefloor and watched Chelsea as she danced the night away with some smooth talking and tanned wannabe surfer boy with highlights. Swirling the remnants of her champagne around in her glass, April watched on in wonder as Georgia picked up the martini Calvin had just bought her and downed it in one big gulp. “So did you hear from her at all on Christmas day?” April asked, not wanting to sound too desperate for the latest gossip on Sarah but secretly dying with anticipation. “April,” Georgia began, placing her empty martini glass down on the table before turning and looking at her best friend. “We haven’t heard a peep from her since she ran off, why would Christmas be any different?” “I don’t know,” April shrugged. Although she despised Sarah for ruining her marriage to Ronan by falsely claiming she was carrying his child, April couldn’t help but be engrossed in the never-ending saga that was Sarah Hudson. There was something addictive about her and her adventures that, although April hated herself for caring, she just couldn’t get enough of. “I thought maybe she might’ve been lonely or something.” “If there’s one thing we’ve learnt about Sarah, it’s that she’s never alone.” Georgia smiled softly at April as a warm tingle began nibbling at her toes before slowly travelling up her body. “I have no doubt she’ll be charming her way into another man’s wallet by now.” Although part of Georgia was worried sick about her daughter, seeing as no one had heard from her for the past six months, another part of her was confident that Sarah was strutting about in some great city of the world getting on with life like so many of her enemies in Somerset should’ve been doing. “Oh I love your necklace, Beth.” Grace gasped in wonder as she leaned forward across the small crowded table and admired the sparkling white gold chain and diamond pendant that sat elegantly around Elizabeth’s neck. Elizabeth held a hand protectively over the apparently expensive Christmas gift. “Thank you.” She said with a broad smile, chuffed that after nearly four hours of partying someone had finally noticed the extravagant piece of jewellery and, moreover, thrilled that Grace was green with envy. “My Adam got it for me. It was a belated Christmas present.” “Yeah, ‘cause he only managed to steal it today.” Margot sniggered quietly into Grace’s ear as she leaned in close to her lifelong friend so as Elizabeth couldn’t overhear. “Oh, Marg!” Grace chuckled as she threw her head back in laughter. “You’re wicked!” Watching Grace and Margot whisper and giggle to eachother like bitchy schoolgirls in the playground, Elizabeth’s stare narrowed. She didn’t care what Margot had to say about Adam or his present, the fact was Elizabeth adored it and nothing Margot or Grace could say was going to spoil her love for Adam or his more than generous gift. – – – – – Burning up the dancefloor, Chelsea, Chloe and Oliver, surrounded by dozens of other slightly intoxicated partygoers, continued to groove away to the boppy beat of Wow as the song steamed towards its fitting climax, a final shout from Kylie of ‘Wow!’ “They’re getting friendly.” Chelsea shot Chloe a mischievous grin as she motioned towards Nick and Laura with a nod. Chelsea couldn’t take her eyes off the brother and sister-in-law as they danced together, Nick’s hands resting comfortably on Laura’s hips and Laura’s arms draped loosely around Nick’s neck as the pair shimmied and shook their way across the dancefloor in a routine that would make even Paris Hilton blush. “Oh please.” Chloe scoffed, not missing a beat as she continued to groove along with the infectious and poptastic chorus whilst watching the two in-laws steam up the dancefloor. “They’re in-laws.” “Like that means anything.” Chloe looked back at Chelsea, unsure whether she was just stirring up trouble or her observations were a cause of concern for Hazel and Miles. “She’s married to his brother.” “I’m just sayin’.” Chelsea protested her innocence by holding her hands up in front of her. As Kylie’s final shout of ‘Wow!’ echoed throughout The Austral, Chloe looked back at the sizzling in-laws and couldn’t help but feel that Chelsea may actually have been onto something. – – – – – “Omigod!” Paige shrieked with excitement as Kylie’s Wow slipped effortlessly into Justin Timberlake’s Sexyback. “I love this song!” Watching Paige begin to groove on the spot as Justin lyrically seduced her, Isabelle chuckled to herself as she gazed blankly into the small glass of water sitting on the bar in front of her. Although Isabelle loved being pregnant, the fact that she couldn’t enjoy a single glass of champagne on New Years Eve, something she’d enjoyed for as long as she could remember, was killing her. “I can’t believe Brock piked!” Paige said as she picked up her Cosmopolitan and took a sip whilst still grooving away to the thumping beats, her hips swaying from side to side in a smooth motion. “He’s a lightweight.” Isabelle shrugged, disappointed that Brock was unable to see in the New Year with her due to the fact he was laid up in bed at home with a stomach virus. “What more is there to say?” Paige placed her glass back down on the bar and licked her lips, trying to savour every last drop of her delicious Cosmo. “I was so bummed when Hamish said he was working. It was supposed to be the four of us seeing in the New Year together. Like, Charlie’s Angels or the four musketeers or something.” Paige felt Isabelle’s eyes upon her and instantly knew that she’d made a terrible mistake – there were five Charlie’s Angels, not four! “Oh well, at least you’re here.” “Yeah.” Isabelle sighed, picking up her glass of still water and holding up in front of her face. “But this isn’t exactly my idea of fun.” “Switch it for vodka. No one will know.” Isabelle looked at Paige, horrified at her suggestion yet secretly wondering if she could actually get away with just one glass. “Straight vodka?” “I won’t tell.” Paige said as she zipped her lips closed and threw away the imaginary key. Paige knew that drinking alcohol while pregnant was one of the big no no’s, but it was New Years Eve and one little drink wasn’t going to do much harm, surely? “I think I’ll pass.” Isabelle took a disheartened sip of her water before placing the glass down on the bar. “Ugh!” Paige groaned in disgust as she spun around and rested her elbows on the bar behind her as she looked out across the bar in search of her next incredibly rich and handsome boyfriend. “Not a looker among them.” All Paige wanted was someone young, successful and handsome…was that too much to ask? Sadly, judging by the less than appealing offerings gathered in The Austral that night, Paige began to think that it was. Joining Paige in scanning the room for Somerset’s most eligible bachelors, Isabelle was surprised that Paige had so quickly declared it a room full of ugly wannabe’s when she could see several serious prospects. “What about him?” she pointed at Nick as danced the night away with Laura. “He’s hot.” “Gay.” Paige said without thought or hesitation. “What?” “Gayer than a pink disco ball at a Madonna concert.” “How do you know?” “Babes, please,” Paige looked back at Isabelle in sympathy as if she’d just made the biggest mistake the world had ever seen. “I’m BFF’s with a ‘mo, I think I can tell.” Watching Nick do the ‘straight guy dance’ by not moving anything from the hips down, Isabelle knew that for once Paige was sorely mistaken. “I think you’re wrong on this one, hun.” She smiled, confident that Nick was 100% straight. Although he was a dreadful dancer, with his arms flapping about like a chicken’s wings and his body as stiff as a board from the waist down, there was something quite charming and wholesome about Nick that peaked Isabelle’s interest in her new neighbour. “Mmm, I guess he is kinda hot.” Paige conceded as she took another sip of her Cosmopolitan before playing with the straw of her cocktail with her tongue as deliciously wicked and sinful thoughts of Nick began to play out in her mind. Taking another sip of her water, Isabelle’s smile quickly faded as she caught sight of Jack sitting glumly by himself at a table in the corner of the hotel playing with his new phone. With a soft sigh, Isabelle watched her brother in silence, hating herself for making Jack come out with her tonight. She could see he was having an awful time and probably wanted nothing more than to be at home, tucked up in bed watching television and drowning his sorrows with a six-pack of beer. Returning her glass to the bar, Isabelle knew there was only one person who could possibly lift Jack’s spirits. – – – – – “I think you’ve got an admirer.” Laura leaned in closely to her brother-in-law and said into his ear, teasing Nick as she caught sight of Paige looking him up and down from the bar like a lion eyeing off its next meal. “What?” Nick smiled; slightly embarrassed by the attention he was apparently receiving from someone at the bar, but intrigued nonetheless. “Who?” “Six O’clock.” Casually turning around as if it were part of his regular dance routine, Nick spotted Paige looking him up and down as she bit down on her bottom lip. Realising she was busted, Paige quickly spun back around to face the bar, turning her back on Nick as her cheeks began to burn bright red with embarrassment. “I don’t think so.” Nick laughed to himself as he turned and resumed dancing with Laura. “Besides, she’s not my type.” Laura, beginning to feel a little worse for wear after nearly four hours of solid drinking and dancing, narrowed her eyes slightly as she tried to form a clearer picture of Nick’s dream woman. “So what is your type?” Blushing, Nick looked away. He didn’t feel comfortable having this type of conversation with anyone; let alone Laura, his brother’s wife. “It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, praying that Laura would drop the subject before her questioning got more personal and he got any more embarrassed. “Oh come on, Nick.” Laura tugged on his arm like a little child begging their parent to buy them a chocolate bar. She knew Nick wasn’t the type of guy to share his feelings, but this was different. “We’re family. I’m not going to tell anyone. Have you got your eye on someone?” “Something like that.” Nick mumbled softly as he looked around the dancefloor, willing the Earth to open up and swallow him whole. “So who is the lucky lady?” “Another drink?” Nick smiled at Laura as he turned on his heels and headed off to the bar before Laura had to time to question him further. “Okay.” Laura grabbed Nick by the hand and followed him as they weaved their way through the crush of dancers and across the dancefloor towards the bar. “But don’t think I’m letting this one drop!” Reaching the crowded and understaffed bar, Nick stood close beside Paige. “Hey.” He winked at her with a smile as she looked at him out the corner of her eye. “Hey.” Paige said in quick reply before taking a large gulp of her Cosmopolitan as if the cocktail would have some immediate calming affect on her shyness. Never one to lose her cool around a guy, Paige didn’t understand what was happening. She was suddenly 15-years-old again and terrified of talking to boys. Watching Nick out the corner of her eye, Paige silently breathed out a calming breath before turning her full attention to Nick and flashing him her trademark smile. “Could I get you another Cosmo?” Watching Nick and Paige smile and be polite with eachother, Laura couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. She suddenly felt sidelined, brushed aside for some woman that Nick apparently had no interest in. Curling her hair behind her ears, Laura cleared her throat, let out a bored sigh and looked back out across the dancefloor. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street Waiting outside of Brock and Isabelle’s front door on their porch in the freezing night, Hamish rubbed his hands together and watched as a group of cheerful twenty-something women stumbled out of The Austral and down Spencer Street before disappearing into the night. “Hey.” Brock smiled at Hamish as he opened the door, his apparent stomach virus miraculously cured as Hamish entered the cosy home to escape the cold. Closing the front door, Brock looked into Hamish’s eyes and, slipping a hand behind Hamish’s head, drew him in closer as their lips fused together in a passionate kiss. – spencer street – The Austral Bar & Grill 28 Spencer Street “Hello stranger!” Isabelle grinned at Chloe as she approached the young fashion designer’s table with her glass of water in hand. “Hey.” Chloe rose from the chocolate coloured ottoman she was sitting on and carefully hugged the heavily pregnant Isabelle. “Look at you!” Chloe gushed, taking a small step back to admire Isabelle’s large baby belly and radiant pregnant glow. “How long to go now?” Holding a hand lovingly to her stomach, Isabelle looked down at her large belly. “A little over two months.” “Awh, are you excited?” “Yeah.” Isabelle nodded as she looked back at Chloe. “I actually can’t wait to meet the little guy.” “Please, take a seat.” Chloe motioned with her hand as she resumed her seat on the chocolate clouted ottoman. “And how’s Jack?” Cautiously perching herself down on a smouldering red ottoman, Isabelle placed her glass of water down on the table and looked at Chloe with a genuine look of concern. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” – – – – – Opening the ultra-modern frosted glass doors of The Austral, Ronan stepped inside the dimly lit and crowded bar as the large countdown clock neared forty-five minutes until the start of 2009. Looking around, trying to place some familiar faces, Ronan’s eyes settled upon a table in the far corner as he watched April hand out an array of drinks to the likes of Georgia, Calvin, Sean, Miles, Elizabeth, Margot, Grace and Hazel. Approaching the bar, Ronan played with his hands as he stood in silence, surrounded by hundreds of cheerful and slightly intoxicated partygoers as he waited to be served. “Don’t even think about it.” Chelsea snarled coldly into Ronan’s ear as she approached her employer from behind. “What?” Ronan turned and frowned at Chelsea, not knowing what she was talking about. Pursing her lips together, Chelsea folded her arms across her chest and glared at Ronan. “April.” She hissed, determined to keep Ronan and April as far apart as possible. “Don’t even think about going over there.” “I wasn’t.” Ronan lied, brushing off Chelsea’s warning with a shake of his head. “I’m onto you, Ronan.” Chelsea’s cold eyes pierced her boss’ as she leaned in closer to him. Although she wasn’t April’s number one fan, Chelsea wasn’t about to stand by and watch Ronan swoop in and steal April away from her father without putting up a fierce fight. “Just FYI.” Watching Chelsea turn and swan off back to the dancefloor to re-join Paige, Oliver, Nick and Laura, Ronan soon realised that the secret feelings he’d been harbouring might not have been so secret after all. Looking back across the bar at April’s table, Ronan watched as she lovingly gazed into Sean’s eyes, smiling, laughing and joking with him before sharing a kiss. “What can I get you?” A young barman asked. “Just a pint, thanks.” Ronan whipped around and forced a polite smile. As the young barman scurried off further down the bar, Ronan realised that in letting April go, he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. – – – – – Perched on her rather uncomfortable ottoman, Isabelle sat in silence, sipping her water through a straw and watching as Chloe approached Jack’s table. As the former lovers exchanged polite hellos and Jack offered Chloe a seat at the table, a broad and hopeful smile crossed Isabelle’s face. “Where’s the boy tonight?” Isabelle’s smile quickly faded as the all too familiar and irritating voice of Holden rang in her ears and the nauseating smell of his Ralph Lauren cologne alerted her to the fact he was stood just behind her. “Sick.” She replied sharply with a roll of her eyes as Holden walked around the table and sat down on Chloe’s chocolate ottoman. “Right.” Holden said sarcastically with a raised brow as he took a mouthful of his beer before resting the nearly three-quarters-full glass down on the small square cedar table. Isabelle glared across the table at her ex-husband as she rubbed her pregnant stomach, trying to calm herself. “What are you doing?” “What?” Holden shrugged. “Right.” Isabelle repeated, mimicking Holden. “What was that for?” “I don’t believe him.” Holden said with a sniff as he picked up a cardboard coaster, splashed in brewery logos and slogans, from the table and began to fiddle with it. “And what would you know?” “Now, now, Belle.” Holden looked back at Isabelle and smiled smugly. “Stress isn’t good for a woman of your condition.” “Oh piss off, Holden.” Isabelle barked, furious that her incredibly irritating and ever interfering ex-husband had spoilt yet another nice evening out. Holding his hands up in surrender, Holden looked back at Isabelle. “I’m just trying to be friendly, Belle.” Taking a sip of her water, Isabelle looked away, bored with Holden and the same round and round conversations they seemed to have. Isabelle didn’t even understand why he was back in town, let alone popping up wherever she was. “Why don’t you just leave me alone.” Isabelle looked back at Holden seriously; having grown tired of his constant interfering and stupid little remarks about Brock and her relationship. “Wherever I go, there you are. It’s creepy.” “It’s fate?” Holden realised that Isabelle was beginning to tire of his witty one liners and constant presence, but now he knew the truth about Brock, he was more determined than ever to be there when the inevitable happened. Isabelle rolled her eyes at her ex-husband’s ridiculous comment, an almost involuntary response for her whenever Holden was around. “It’s more like crazy-psycho-stalker-ex-husband.” She replied, looking around the bar, silently pleading with someone, anyone, to come and rescue her from the intolerable conversation she found herself embroiled in. Holden crossed his legs and rubbed the tip of his nose with his knuckle. “Well if that’s what you think of me…” “You’ll what?” Isabelle whipped her head back around and shot Holden a cold and brutal glare. “Go back to New York? Please, be my guest, Holden. I’ll even pay for the airfare.” Dashing across the dancefloor like Bruce Willis in some tragic action movie, Paige grasped Isabelle by the arm and pulled her up from her seat. “Come on, let’s dance.” She said, sweeping in to rescue Isabelle from Holden without a second to spare. Watching Isabelle and Paige disappear amongst the crowd of partygoers, Holden lifted his beer from the table and took another mouthful. It wouldn’t be long now until the perfect house of cards that was Isabelle and Brock’s relationship came tumbling down and Holden was adamant that, when all hope seemed lost for Isabelle, he’d come riding in on his white stallion and take her and her unborn son away from all the heartache, pain and grief she’d no doubt be feeling very soon. – – – – – A loud and excited cheer from the large crowd gathered on the dancefloor echoed around the bar as the unmistakeable Lady GaGa hit, Just Dance, began to play. “Here he is.” Hazel smiled at Nick as he approached the crowded table in the corner of the bar. “The next Mikael Barishnakov.” “Huh?” Nick frowned at his mother, not understanding who or what a Mikael Barishnakov was. “Everything okay, son?” Miles smiled, trying not to laugh at the perplexed look on Nick’s face as he struggled to understand what Hazel was talking about. “I’m going to take Laura home.” “What? Why?” Hazel looked concerned. Not ten minutes ago she’d seen Laura dancing around without a care in the world and now suddenly she was heading home? “Is she okay?” “Hard to say really.” Nick smiled cheekily at his parents as he stepped aside allowing them a clear line of view of Laura, passed out asleep in a chair not a few tables away. With her eyes firmly closed, her mouth slightly open and arms dangling over the sides of the bucket chair, she looked like the poster girl for how to celebrate New Years in an aged care home. “Oh bless her.” Hazel chuckled as she fumbled about in her clutch purse for her cell phone. The sight of her daughter-in-law fast asleep in the middle of The Austral as the chaotic and noisy New Years celebrations raged around her was just too cute and Hazel was determined to get a photo of it before Laura woke. “She couldn’t even make it to midnight…weakling.” Nick looked over at Laura and smiled as Hazel whipped her phone out of her purse and managed to snap a picture of the sleeping Laura. Miles looked at Hazel, disappointed that she felt the need to take that photo to further humiliate Laura at another time. “Are you right to drive?” he looked back at Nick. “Yeah,” Nick nodded. “I’ve only had two drinks.” “Will you be coming back afterwards?” Hazel asked as she placed her phone back into her clutch and snapped closed the metallic silver accessory. “Would there be any point?” Nick looked over at the large countdown timer above the bar. 00:23:48 until 2009! “It’s almost midnight now.” “I guess not.” Hazel said slightly disappointed, having hoped that they could all see in 2009 together as a family. Rising from her seat, Hazel held Nick’s face in her hands and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Well happy New Year, darling.” “Yeah, you too, mum.” Nick smiled at Hazel before patting his father on the shoulder. Looking around the table, Nick waved goodbye to his neighbours. “I’ll see you all next year.” – – – – – “Isabelle sent you, didn’t she?” Jack said to Chloe as he ran an index finger around the rim of his empty glass, realising that he obviously looked like such a sad and lonely loser that Isabelle had to ask people to keep him company. “No.” Chloe did her best to sound convincing and although she believed herself, the look Jack gave her told her otherwise. “Okay, maybe,” she conceded with a soft smile. “But I wanted to spend time with you anyway. It feels like its been ages.” Jack looked back at his empty glass and continued to run a finger around the rim in a clockwise motion. “Probably ‘cause it has.” He mumbled before letting out a weary sigh as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Watching Jack sit in silence, fiddling with his glass, Chloe forced an uncomfortable smile. She barely recognised the man sitting across from her. He wasn’t the Jack she knew, the Jack she’d fallen in love with. He was cold, empty and lifeless. “I’m sorry about…” “Don’t be.” Jack said with a harsh tone as he looked back at Chloe, unable to stomach another pathetic and unsympathetic apology about him finding out he’s not Cabot’s son. “I’m not.” Chloe looked at Jack in a stunned silence, taken aback by his abrupt reply. She understood that Jack was quite obviously hurting, but that didn’t give him the right to treat her like something he’d just scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “Well if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m always here.” “I think we can finally stop pretending, don’t you, Chloe?” “Sorry?” Chloe frowned at Jack. Jack looked at Chloe and took a deep breath as he simultaneously cleared his throat. “Us being friendly,” he replied, doing his best to make Chloe feel as uncomfortable as possible so she’d quickly move on. “It’s just not going to work.” “Jack, I…” “I appreciate your concern, Chloe, but really this is something that has absolutely nothing to do with you, so its probably best you just run along back to your fiancée and play happy families or whatever delusion it is you’re consumed with nowadays.” Shocked at Jack’s last acid tongue comment, Chloe picked up her raspberry vodka and slowly rose from her seat, her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes wide with disbelief and focused on Jack the entire time. “Oh and congratulations.” Jack said coldly and slightly bitter in reference to Chloe’s engagement to Oliver as he looked up into her wide eyes. “I hope he treats you better than I did.” Stepping out from behind the table, Chloe stood at Jack’s side. “You never treated me badly, Jack.” She said softly and genuinely before leaning down and tenderly kissing Jack on the cheek. “Just look after yourself, okay?” As Chloe turned away and started to walk back across the dancefloor to her table on the other side of the bar, Jack watched her walk out of his life once again as he held a hand over the spot where she’d just kissed him on the cheek. On the dancefloor, Oliver glared at Jack in silence having witnessed the brief conversation and parting kiss. “What was all that about?” he asked Chloe as she walked past him on her way back to her table. Turning to face Oliver, Chloe noticed him glaring at Jack. “Oh nothing.” She smiled before kissing her fiancée on the lips and resuming her walk across the dancefloor to her table. As Chloe resumed her seat on the chocolate coloured ottoman at her table, Oliver looked back at Jack and watched on with a cold and narrow stare as he began to fiddle with his new phone. While his mind was telling him he had nothing to worry about as far as Jack and Chloe were concerned, his heart was telling him otherwise. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street While Brock fumbled about in the ensuite bathroom looking for something, Hamish sat on the edge of Brock’s queen size bed slowly unbuttoning his neatly pressed shirt. Unbuttoning the last button, Hamish removed his shirt and tossed it across the bedroom onto Isabelle’s antique rocking chair. Rising to unbuckle his belt and remove his jeans, Hamish looked down at the bedside table and noticed Brock’s cell phone. In the ensuite bathroom, Brock opened the cupboard door of the vanity mirror and smiled to himself as he spotted the box of condoms he’d been searching for. Snatching the box from the shelf, Brock quickly opened the box. Back in the bedroom, Hamish placed Brock’s phone back down on the bedside table and began to unbuckle his tan coloured leather belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, allowing them to slide down his legs and collect in a heap around his ankles. Stepping out of his jeans, Hamish turned around to see Brock standing in the doorway in nothing but his silky black boxer shorts. As a wicked grin slinked its way across Hamish’s face, he motioned for Brock to come closer with his index finger. Brock looked at Hamish with a naughty grin before biting down on his bottom lip and entering the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. – spencer street – The Austral Bar & Grill 28 Spencer Street “I know!” Isabelle said with a laugh as she pressed a hand against Sean’s bicep, engrossed in the enjoyable conversation she was having with her neighbour. “I don’t get her either. I mean, she was a Spice Girl. So what? What, does she want a medal or something?” “Babes,” Paige sighed wearily as she approached Isabelle at the crowded table in the corner of The Austral. “I’m heading off.” “But its not even midnight!” Isabelle protested loudly as the repetitive dance track that was booming throughout The Austral seemed to jump up 100 decibels, making it nearly impossible to hear your own thoughts, let alone anyone else. “There’s five minutes!” Isabelle screeched at Paige as she looked up at the large countdown timer before grabbing Paige’s hand as if that was going to persuade her to stay. “Can’t you wait five minutes?” “I’ve hit the wall.” Paige replied shaking her head, feeling as if she wouldn’t see out the last five minutes. “Besides, I want to watch the fireworks on TV.” “Seriously?” Isabelle asked with a cocked eyebrow, disappointed that Paige was going to bail on her right before the big countdown. “Seriously, seriously.” “And there’s no persuading you?” Paige looked back at Isabelle and smiled as she shook her head. “Nope.” “Awh,” Isabelle pouted, pulling a sad face as she rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around Paige in a friendly hug. “Well then I guess I’ll see you next year.” As Paige and Isabelle parted, Isabelle looked down and noticed her clutch was vibrating on the table. Picking it up, Isabelle quickly withdrew her cell phone. 1 new message. While Paige did the rounds of the table, saying goodbye and happy New Year to her friends and neighbours and politely kissing each one on the cheek, Isabelle opened the text message. Come home. Got a surprise xx. “Who was that?” Paige asked, noticing the broad grin on Isabelle’s face as she completed her farewells. “Brock.” Isabelle looked back at Paige, before snapping her phone shut and returning it to her clutch purse. “He’s got a surprise for me.” “Oooh!” Paige teased with a mischievous grin. “Come on,” Isabelle tucked her clutch under her arm and took Paige’s hand. “I’ll walk you home.” Turning back to face the table, Isabelle waved goodbye to Calvin, Georgia, Sean, Miles, Hazel, Grace, Margot and Elizabeth. “I’m heading off too.” She said, kissing her hand and blowing the group a kiss. “See you all next year.” As Paige and Isabelle started their final walk across the dancefloor on their way home, Sean watched on in silence as over at the bar, Matthew sidled up behind Chelsea and moved her hair to one side before whispering into her ear. Watching Chelsea throw her head back in a fit of laughter before turning and looking into Matt’s eyes, Sean quickly realised that there was more to their friendship than he first thought. As Matthew turned and walked away, a destructive fury burnt deep inside Sean. – – – – – Fluffing her hair with one of her hands as she walked out of the ladies restroom, April looked across the crowded dancefloor to the large countdown clock above the bar. 00:04:25 until 2009! Passing a table, April gasped and jumped out of her skin as a man’s rough hand grabbed hers. Spinning around, April breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that!” she smiled at Ronan as she relaxed, relieved it wasn’t some drunk random trying to cop a feel. “You scared me half to death.” “Sorry.” Ronan apologised, releasing his grip on April’s hand as she sat down on one of the three vacant ottomans surrounding his table. “What are you doing sitting here all alone like some Nigel no friends? Come over and sit with us, there’s Cal-“ “No, I’m cool.” “Oh, okay.” April smiled. Although she knew things were a little awkward now between Ronan, Calvin and Georgia after what had happened with Sarah and Georgia accidentally running Ronan down with her car, she thought they would’ve at least tried to make an effort and make Ronan feel comfortable and welcomed. Ronan looked down at the cedar table cluttered with empty glasses, only one of which was his, and then back at April. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.” “Sure.” April smiled, curling her hair behind her ear as she struggled to hear Ronan over the thumping beats of the dreadful electro-dance song playing in the bar. “Somewhere a bit more private perhaps?” Ronan suggested with a half smile. “Okay.” April agreed before rising from her seat. “Outside?” “Yeah.” Ronan nodded as he started to follow April across the bar towards the front doors. “Sounds good.” – – – – – “God I love that ring!” Chelsea said, admiring Chloe’s stunning diamond and white gold engagement ring as they sat at the bar waiting for the barman to bring them the two shots they just ordered. Holding her left hand up in front of her face, Chloe looked at the ring Oliver had given her. “It’s quite something, hey?” she said half-heartedly, still plagued by doubts that agreeing to marry Oliver was the right thing to do. “It must’ve cost him a bomb!” Chelsea said, jealous of Chloe’s dazzling ring although thankful she didn’t have to put up with the additional things that came along with it, like a wedding. “Yeah.” Chloe sighed. “Oh well don’t sound too excited!” Chelsea scoffed, nudging Chloe with her elbow. Chloe stared at the glistening ring in silence. Its not that she didn’t love Oliver, she did, but Chloe didn’t know whether she was in love with Oliver or not. Everything was just moving too fast and Chloe felt like she was nothing but a silent partner, standing on the sidelines watching on as everyone dictated to her and decided for her which direction her life would take. Sensing something wasn’t right with her friend, Chelsea looked at Chloe. “You are happy, right?” Chloe remained silent, staring at the shiny ring. “Chloe, you are happy…right?” Chloe turned her head and looked at Chelsea. “In all honesty?” she asked, the first signs of tears beginning to fill her eyes. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Chelsea looked back at Chloe in a stunned silence. She didn’t know what to say. Apart from April and her father, Chloe and Oliver were the only other ‘match made in heaven’ couple Chelsea knew and to see Chloe so torn over whether to marry Oliver or not broke her heart. Stood at the bar, one person away from Chloe, Oliver bowed his head as Chloe’s words rang in his ears. Although it was a struggle to hear what Chloe had actually said over the music, Oliver had heard enough to realise that Chloe was having doubts about the engagement. Suddenly losing the desire for his last beer of 2008, Oliver turned away from the bar and walked off. – spencer street – Imperial Suite, Hotel Ritz Paris, France With just minutes left until Paris welcomed in 2009, Cabot sat on the antique lounge suite in his luxurious hotel suite and looked at the signed contract sitting on the marble coffee table. All his worries about Miller Incorporated were now gone. The new investor had signed on and saved the company from financial ruin. Relieved, Cabot let out a deep exhale of breath as he could now finally return home to Somerset and sort things out with Jack. Hearing the commotion and carryon going on outside, Cabot rose from his seat and walked over to the window. Peeling back the drapes, he looked out over Paris in wonder. The majestic city looked simply stunning all lit up as thousands of people partied away 2008 in the streets below. A few blocks away the Eiffel Tower stood tall and proud, waiting for its starring role in Paris’ New Years fireworks display. Rolling back the sleeve of his shirt, Cabot looked down at his watch. 11.58. Removing his cell phone from the pocket of his black trousers, Cabot dialled a number and held the phone to his ear. “Bonjour.” He smiled as the person on the other end answered. “Are you up for a visitor? Good. I’ll be there in time to see the fireworks.” Ending the call, Cabot stuffed the phone back into his trousers pocket and, grabbing his coat from the back of one of the armchairs in the opulent suite, made a swift exit. – spencer street – Paige & Hamish’s Residence 24 Spencer Street Arriving home just in time to see the massive fireworks display broadcast live on TV, Paige opened the front door and stepped inside her dark and eerily quiet home. Flicking on the lights, Paige looked around the living room nervously as it was bathed in the bright light of the new energy saving light bulbs Hamish fitted just the other day. Quickly closing the door, Paige locked it and took a step back. Looking at the lock, Paige stepped forward and unlocked the door before locking it once again. Taking a step back again, Paige looked at the lock as her hands began to tremble. The door wasn’t locked. Although she could see it was locked and in her mind she knew it was locked, Paige felt as if the door wasn’t locked. Stepping forward, Paige unlocked the door before locking it once again. Satisfied that the front door was now securely locked, Paige looked at windows. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street Opening her front door, Isabelle stepped inside the house she shared with Brock and looked around in silence. The house was pitch black and there was no sign of life. “Babe?” Isabelle called out with a puzzled expression on her face. There was silence. Turning on the lights, Isabelle quietly shut the front door and placed her clutch purse down on the hall table. Walking into the living room, Isabelle looked around for Brock but there was no sign of him. As she re-entered the foyer, Isabelle heard a muffled groan come from upstairs. “Babe, is that you?” Again there was no answer apart from a muffled groan. Curious, Isabelle started up the staircase. Reaching the landing, Isabelle stopped in her tracks to find the bedroom door closed. Looking closer, Isabelle noticed a dim light shining in the room through the small gap underneath the door. A wicked grin slowly crossed Isabelle’s face as she soon realised just what Brock’s naughty surprise was. Walking across the landing towards the bedroom, Isabelle grasped the doorhandle and in one swift motion opened the door. “I’m ready for my surpri-” Isabelle fell immediately silent as a paralysing feeling crippled her body, leaving her frozen to the spot, staring at Brock and Hamish in disbelief. “Oh my God.” – spencer street – The Austral Bar & Grill 28 Spencer Street “10!” the large crowd in The Austral yelled out in excitement as the countdown clock began the final countdown to 2009. Noticing Chloe sat at the table with Grace and the others, looking up at the large countdown clock, Oliver forced his way through the New Years revellers. “9!” “We need to talk.” Oliver said sternly into Chloe’s ear as he approached her from behind. Turning in her seat, Chloe looked up at Oliver. Her happy smile soon disappearing as she noticed the sad and serious look on Oliver’s face. “8!” A nauseous feeling washed over Chloe as she began to worry that Chelsea had told Oliver what she’d said. “What abo-” “Come outside and watch the fireworks with me!” Chelsea yelled out slightly worse for wear as she came running up on Chloe’s other side and grabbed her by the hand, tugging her, urging her to follow her outside to watch the fireworks. “7!” “What?” Chloe looked at Chelsea. “The fireworks!” Chelsea yelled animatedly, waving her arms about like some sort of children’s entertainer. “Come outside and watch them with me!” “I can’t, Oliver wants…” Turning back to face her fiancée, Chloe’s voice trailed off as she noticed Oliver had disappeared. “Ollie?” “6!” Weaving his way through the hundreds of people crammed into The Austral, each one focussed on the large countdown timer, Sean forced his way over to Chloe and Chelsea. “Chess you haven’t seen April have you?” Sean asked, concerned for April’s safety after not having seen her for the past fifteen minutes. “No.” Chelsea looked back at her father, sensing the concern in his voice. “5!” “So you coming?” Chelsea looked back at Chloe as Sean walked off to continue his search. “4!” Abandoning her attempts to spot Oliver in the large crowd, Chloe looked back at Chelsea and forced a smile. “Sure. Why not?” Rising from her seat, Chloe followed Chelsea through the massive crush of people as they headed towards the front doors. “3!” The crowd screamed out as the atmosphere in the hotel reached fever pitch. “2!” Outside in the freezing nights air, Ronan stood facing April. Running the back of his hand down April’s cheek, Ronan smiled softly. “I love you, April. I always have and I always will.” “1!” The crowd screamed with delight as Chelsea raced towards the doors of the hotel with Chloe in hot pursuit. “Happy New Year!” While the crowd gathered inside The Austral broke out in a wave of screams and cheers as a sea of brightly coloured balloons and streamers rained down from the ceiling, a thunderous roar of fireworks erupted outside just as Chelsea burst through the doors of the Austral and stepped out into the freezing night just as Spencer Street was lit up in an array of dazzling colours from the fireworks exploding overhead. Immediately stopping in their tracks, Chelsea and Chloe watched on in a stunned silence as Ronan and April shared a passionate kiss while the glorious fireworks display cracked overhead. – spencer street – Liberty Building Somerset 2009 got off to a roaring start as a number of fireworks displays exploded in a firestorm of colour over the sprawling metropolis. The muffled cracks, crackles and bangs of numerous fireworks exploding outside were a cruel reminder to Nick of the excitement that he was missing out on back at The Austral. “Here we are.” Nick smiled at Laura as he walked Laura to the door of her apartment. “Now, where are your keys?” Removing she silver set of keys from her clutch purse, Laura held them out and jingled them in front of her brother-in-law’s face. “Well come on,” Nick chuckled to himself, taking the keys from a rather inebriated Laura as she swayed back and forth on the spot, struggling to stand up straight. “The sooner you’re in bed the sooner I can go home and get drunk.” “You’re a good friend, Rick.” Laura slapped Nick on the shoulder as her head slumped forward before immediately snapping back into position. “It’s Nick, but thanks anyway,” Nick smiled as he began to unlock Laura’s door. While the dull rumble of fireworks continued outside, Laura ran a hand through her long golden blonde hair. “I miss him.” Opening the door to Laura’s apartment, Nick looked back at his sister-in-law as she leaned against the hallway wall, thinking about her husband fighting over in Afghanistan. “We all do.” Nick smiled reassuringly before stepping forward and rubbing Laura’s arm in support. “But he’ll be home soon enough.” “He’s lucky to have a brother like you.” Laura looked into Nick’s eyes and smiled. “Always there for me.” “Come on,” Nick smiled at Laura as he took her by the hand and led her into her apartment. “Let’s get you tucked snugly into bed.” Stepping forward, Laura pressed herself up against Nick and looked into his eyes. Their faces just an inch or two apart, the pair looked into eachother’s eyes as their warm breath brushed against eachother’s lips. Slowly leaning forward, Laura tenderly kissed Nick on the lips. Parting, Laura looked into Nick’s eyes once more. “I sometimes think I married the wrong one.” She whispered, running a hand through Nick’s short, spiky black hair. Taking a step back, Nick held a hand to his forehead as he immediately realised his mistake. “Um…you’re drunk, so…” Laura reached out and pressed a finger against Nick’s lips, immediately silencing him. Looking into Nick’s eyes, Laura slowly moved her hand from his lips, down his chin and then his chest. As Laura’s lips connected with Nick’s for a second kiss, Nick gave into temptation and kissed Laura back. Pressing his sister-in-law up against the wall of her living room, Nick began to kiss and nibble at Laura’s neck as she moaned with pleasure. Unzipping the zip of her black cocktail dress, Nick looked back into Laura’s eyes as he kissed her once again. Allowing her black dress to slip from her body, leaving her standing in front of Nick in nothing but a pair of silky black underwear and black stilettos, Laura took Nick by the hand and led him across the living room and into the bedroom. – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street The loud booms and bangs of fireworks exploding high above Somerset continued to ripple across the city, heralding in a brand new year full of hope and prosperity. Upstairs in the Hudson’s dark and silent home, the oak door of Calvin and Georgia’s bedroom slowly creaked open as the occasional bright flash of red, white, purple or blue lit up the room as a firework exploded overhead. As the door opened, a dark silhouette stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Slowly and quietly walking into the bedroom, the mysterious figure made a beeline for Georgia’s antique dressing table opposite the large king size bed. Running a glove-covered hand over the top of Georgia’s mahogany jewellery box, the mysterious character carefully lifted the lid and looked down at the expensive yellow and white gold jewellery adorned with diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds and other such precious gems. Rummaging through the expensive jewellery, some which had been given to Georgia from Calvin when they first started dating, the secretive character began to pocket the most expensive pieces. “Well?” A portly, thirty-something man asked as he appeared in the doorway wearing a black sweater and dark jeans. Turning, the mysterious thief turned and looked back at their portly accomplice. “Clean them out.” The thief said in a rough, whispered voice. Nodding in agreement, the accomplice turned and headed back downstairs. Returning their attention back to Georgia’s jewellery box, the mysterious thief pocketed the last of the jewels before a large firework exploded in the sky outside, bathing Georgia and Calvin’s bedroom in a bright white light. Catching sight of their own reflection in the mirror above Georgia’s dressing table, the thief looked at themselves. It was Adam. Letting out a deep breath as the light from the fireworks quickly died out, Adam looked at a photograph of Calvin and Georgia sitting beside Georgia’s jewellery box. Picking it up, Adam stared at the photograph for a moment, running his glove-clad finger over the top of the smooth glass before hurling the photo to the floor and stomping on it. – spencer street – The Goodwin Residence 23 Spencer Street Sat snugly curled up in a ball on the lounge suite watching Somerset’s biggest New Years Eve fireworks display on television, Nicole held a hand over her mouth as she let out a big yawn. 2008 had been a year she would rather forget, but as 2009 dawned, Nicole had vowed to both herself and Grace that 2009 would be the year things turned around and improved. There was a loud knock at the door. Rolling her eyes, Nicole begrudgingly lifted herself from the sofa and trudged across the living room and into the foyer. How Grace had still managed to forget her keys after had Nicole reminded her at least twenty times, Nicole didn’t know. Opening the door, Nicole let out a disgruntled groan. “I told you take your key…oh, hello.” Nicole frowned at the handsome stranger standing on her doorstep, immediately feeling underdressed as she looked at him in his neatly pressed suit and immaculately tied tie and then looked at herself in her old sweat pants and oversized sweat shirt. “Can I help you?” “Sorry, I know it’s late…” the handsome stranger, no older than 25, with blonde hair and a perfect smile began. “Well, technically it’s early.” Nicole corrected him, slightly cautious as to why a neatly dressed 25-year-old was on her doorstep at five past twelve at night. The handsome stranger smiled at Nicole. “So it is.” He replied, trying his best not to sound nervous. “I’ve just come straight from the airport so please forgive the sudden and late…early…whatever…arrival.” Sensing the stranger’s nervousness, Nicole closed the front door slightly, wary of what may have been about to occur. “Who are you and what are you doing on my doorstep?” “I’m Logan.” The young man smiled as he stepped forward and presented his hand for Nicole to shake. Nicole shook Logan’s hand cautiously, unsure of who this Logan was and just what he wanted with her. “Nicole.” Sensing Nicole’s trepidation, Logan smiled at her and took a step back from the front door. “I know it’s late…early…but I was wondering if David was home?” Nicole’s face immediately drained of colour. “What?” she asked softly, the mention of her deceased father knocking her for six. “Doctor David Gillies?” Logan repeated with a friendly smile, suddenly hoping he had the correct address and hadn’t just knocked on some random persons door. “This is his house, correct?” “I…um…” Nicole didn’t know what to say, let alone know what Logan wanted with her dead dad. “I don’t…” she stammered, trying to string together some sort of sentence. “What do you want with him?” Logan chuckled to himself as he watched Nicole stutter and splutter her way through her sentence. “Well I can certainly see from the look on your face he obviously hasn’t told you about me. I’m his son. So is he in? It’s been ages since we’ve seen eachother and I couldn’t wait until the morning.” Stood there in a stunned silence, staring into her half-brother’s eyes, Nicole felt sick. How was she supposed to break the news to Logan that David had died more than six months ago? “No.” She replied softly, unsure of what to say or do. “He’s not.” – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street “Belle!” Brock yelled out as he burst through the bedroom door, chasing after a clearly confused Isabelle as he struggled to pull on his jeans. “Belle, wait! It’s not what you’re thinking.” As Brock grasped her elbow and spun her around to face him, Brock looked into her fiancée’s eyes. “I don’t…” she began, pulling her arm free while her entire body trembled as she struggled to process what she’d just walked in to see Brock and Hamish doing. “Your message said…I don’t…” “What message?” Brock frowned, panting for breath as he continued to struggle with his jeans. He hadn’t a clue what Isabelle was talking about. He hadn’t sent her a message. Isabelle looked away from Brock, unable to look him in the eyes as the image of what she’d just interrupted played over and over in her mind. “You sent me a…you were kissing Hami…what is going on?” Isabelle noticed Brock struggling to zip up his jeans. “Your pants…” Managing to zip up his fly, Brock took Isabelle’s hands in his and began kissing them. “Babe, just let me explain.” Appearing in the doorway of Brock and Isabelle’s bedroom with nothing but a white bed sheet wrapped around his naked body, Hamish looked on as Brock tried to explain things to Isabelle. “Babe…” Brock began, continuing to kiss Isabelle’s hand while also stroking her hair and face as he struggled to think clearly let alone string a plausible sentence together to explain things to Isabelle. Catching sight of Hamish out the corner of her eye, Isabelle turned her head and looked into Hamish’s eyes. The look Hamish gave Isabelle told her everything. “Oh my God.” She whispered softly as her eyes began to fill with tears. Looking back at Brock, she suddenly pieced everything together. “You’re gay?” “No!” Brock said adamantly, furious at Hamish, but also trying desperately to try and talk his way out of things with Isabelle. “It’s not what it seems. What happened was…” “You were in bed with him.” Isabelle frowned back at Brock, pulling her hands free from his tight, frantic grip as she took a step backwards. “No.” Brock shook his head. “No, I…” “You were in bed with him.” Isabelle pointed towards Hamish with her hand, unable to bring herself to look in his direction. Brock ran his hands through his hair in frustration as the thunderous roar of exploding fireworks continued to rain down on Spencer Street. “No I wasn’t!” “Yes, you were.” Isabelle yelled, a tear rolling down her cheek as she struggled to come to terms with the fact that her fiancée was having an affair with another man, let alone the fact he continued to deny it even though she’d just walked in and caught them in the act. “I just walked in and saw you two…” She screamed, her voice echoing throughout the silent house. “And you were…in bed…with him…” “Nothing was going on.” Brock protested, fully believing his way of thinking. “Tell her!” Brock roared at Hamish, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared as he struggled to persuade Isabelle that nothing was going on. “Hamish, tell her!” Isabelle slowly turned her head and looked back at Hamish as a mascara stained tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a dark trail in its wake. Looking into Isabelle’s eyes, Hamish felt an overwhelming sense of shame and disappointment as he saw the amount of pain he’d caused Isabelle. “I’m so sorry, Belle.” He said softly, as if ashamed to admit his part in the sordid affair. “Babe…” Brock began, taking Isabelle’s face in his hands and turning her head to face him as his own eyes began to fill with tears. “Belle, Belle, look at me…” “Oh my God.” Isabelle whispered as she closed her eyes, beginning to breakdown in tears as the full enormity of the situation she found herself in began to hit home. “Oh my God.” “Babe look at me,” Brock continued, holding Isabelle’s face firmly in his hands as he struggled to get through to his confused fiancé. “Belle, look at me babe…” “Don’t touch me!” Isabelle pushed Brock away, breaking free of his grip before clasping a hand to her chest as she struggled. “Belle!” “Oh my God…” Isabelle panted as she began to pace back and forth, her body trembling, tears begin to roll down her cheeks in quick succession and her mind scrambled as she struggled to think of what to do next. “I can’t…I don’t even know what…oh my God.” “Belle!” Brock yelled as Isabelle wiped away her tears and started to walk back across the landing towards the staircase. “I’ve gotta go and um…um…I’ve gotta get out of here.” “Belle!” Brock called out loudly, grabbing hold of Isabelle’s wrist and trying to pull her back towards him as she tried to yank her arm free. “Let me go!” Isabelle screamed. “Just let me go, Brock!” “Belle, please!” “Get off me!” Isabelle’s blood curdling cries seemed to echo throughout Somerset, not just number 20 as she pushed Brock away and headed towards the stairs. “Just…oh my God! Just leave me alone, Brock.” “Belle, please.” Brock yelled, chasing after Isabelle as she started down the staircase. “I can explain. “Belle!” Lunging forward, Brock grabbed Isabelle’s arm and spun her around to face him. “Let me go!” Isabelle screeched tearfully, violently pulling her arm free from Brock’s strong and suffocating grip. Slapping Brock’s hands and struggling to push him away as he tried to grab hold of her, Isabelle took a step backward. As the heel of one of her stilettos slipped off the edge of the step, Isabelle’s eyes widened and her arms began to flail about as she lost her footing. “Belle!” Brock’s booming scream rattled around the dark and still house as he watched Isabelle tumble head over heels down the staircase, each bone crushing thud as loud and as stomach churning as the last. As Isabelle’s lifeless body tumbled from the staircase to the wooden floor of the foyer entrance with a thud, Brock raced down the stairs after her. “Belle!” Crouching beside Isabelle’s lifeless body, Brock frantically lifted her head. “Baby?” he blubbered, trembling as Isabelle lay unresponsive in his arms. “Do something!” Brock yelled up the staircase to Hamish. Stood at the top of the staircase, Hamish stood frozen to the spot, as white as a sheet as he looked down at Isabelle’s lifeless body lying limply in Brock’s arms. “Hamish do something!” Brock roared, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. “Now!” Cradling a dying Isabelle in his arms, Brock looked back at his fiancé and carefully moved the hair from her face. His eyes widening, Brock gasped in horror as a small trickle of blood began to seep from Isabelle’s ear. – spencer street – Apartment 6A, 81 Avenue de la Bourdonnais 7th District, Paris, France With the muffled crackles and bangs of dazzling fireworks exploding outside, Cabot stood in the passage of the elegant and ultra exclusive apartment building’s sixth floor with an exquisite bunch of a dozen red roses resting comfortably in his arms and let out a calming breath. Whenever he was here his stomach churned with both excitement and nervousness. Knocking on the door, Cabot cleared his throat and waited in silence as his heart pounded in his chest as the blood swished loudly through his ears. The golden doorhandle turned and the solid mahogany door with gold numbering opened effortlessly. Looking his special friend up and down, Cabot bit down hard on his bottom lip. The sight of such a stunning beauty in an elegant, one of a kind vintage Yves Saint Laurent floor length mauve evening gown with silver Jimmy Choo stilettos sent a shiver down Cabot’s spine and made him go weak at the knees. “Right on time.” Sarah smiled, flashing Cabot her perfect grin, while over her shoulder, perfectly framed by the thick antique white wooden frames of her grand floor to ceiling windows, the Eiffel Tower lit up in a magnificent spectacle as a flurry of red, blue and white fireworks raced up the sides of the iconic landmark. |