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How You Remind Me
I felt kind of stupid starting yet another script, but I couldn't help it :rolleyes: It's about Kat and Alfie and the current storyline. Please reply :) (No, I don't know how you can be in a "grey mood" either but I liked the sound of it :D )
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Alfie entered the living room, drowning in a sea of his thoughts, and saw Nana sitting on the sofa watching TV. She turned towards him.
"You know, Alfie, there never seems to be anything good on telly these days," she said thoughtfully. Alfie smiled waveringly, and sat down next to her.
"No, there isn't," he agreed. He sighed. Ever since the appointment at the hospital, he had been in a mournful, grey mood. His mind kept fluttering back to the doctor's damning words - the person who he had known since birth was going to die and there was stuff all they could do about it. But the million-dollar question was: when should he tell her? Over dinner, he thought sarcastically. It wasn't fair. He had no-one left. Kat had left him, Spencer was God-knows-where, his parents were dead, and now his grandma was dying.
Nana looked thoughtful. She glanced at him meaningfully. "Alfie..."
"Yeah?"
"They said something to you at the hospital, didn't they? Something bad? I can tell."
Alfie looked at her, horrified. "No, no, I don't -"
"Alfie," Nana said sternly, "If something's happening to me then I'd think I have a right to know, wouldn't you?"
Alfie swallowed. His mouth felt dry. "I - I can't."
"Am I going to die, Alfie?" Nana asked matter-of-factly.
Alfie stared at her. She didn't look worried or upset; just curious.
"Um... they said..." he moved to face her. It was true, she did have a right to know.
So he told her, gently.
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more soon I promise, just got to go :)
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Nana took the news calmly. She looked at Alfie.
"Darling, why didn't you tell me? I would have liked to know."
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just didn't want to upset you..."
"I'm fine, darling," Nana said. "Everyone's got to go sometime, haven't they?" She smiled wanly. "I never thought I was going to be here forever, sweetheart."
"I did," Alfie said. His throat was tightening up, but he couldn't cry, not ever in front of her. "When I was a little kid and you were like the biggest person in the world to me."
He remembered that more than anything - sitting on the floor playing with some toy cars near his grandma's feet, her towering above him. She had always been there for him, to wipe away tears and comfort him after he had fallen off his bike. She had seemed like some immortal being to him then. Now she was just a frail old lady. Why did nothing ever last?
"But then you grew up," Nana said. "You're all grown up now, Alfie, you don't need me anymore. It's been you looking after me for such a long time now darling, didn't you notice? Not the other way round."
He looked at his knees, eyes blurring with restrained tears. "I don't want you to go."
Nana smiled. "You'll be alright. Just let's get one thing clear..."
Alfie looked up. "What?"
"No-one's going to be miserable. Okay? I don't want the time I've got left to be spent watching a bunch of miserable people cry over me. I'm going to have some fun, Alfie."
She smiled at him, looking excited. He smiled back weakly, and she hugged him suddenly. He was bigger and stronger than her, but for just a second it seemed like it had been when he was six and was upset because the boys in his street wouldn't play with him. She had hugged him then, too, and told him "I don't care what they say, and neither should you. You're my special little lad." But then he came back to the present, and she was dying and he had no-one left.
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The next day Alfie went to work as normal. What else could he do? Nana didn't want any fuss. Kat was on her stall when he got there. They had been alright so far, but they hadn't spoken or even looked at each other since he had left the Slaters' kitchen that Friday. It seemed so long ago now.
"Hi," he said hesitantly as she walked past him, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance so she wouldn't look at him. She didn't reply, but he knew she had heard him - her eyes had flickered with recognition.
He wanted to speak to her because she was, besides everything else, his best friend in the world. And he needed someone to talk to right now - a friend. But most of Walford had heard about recent events and were ignoring him. He was officially an outcast. Great. At the time when he most needed a friend. He felt a fresh burst of sadness bloom inside him, and then lessen into a dull ache. It hurt. He wanted Kat back so much that he felt like he might be physically sick with the pain of not having her near, in his arms. The people who hadn't already left him were leaving.
"Kat," he called to her. A feeling of unbearable loneliness had just descended on him, and he had to at least try to bridge the gap between them both.
At first she pretended not to hear him, but it started to seem ridiculous after he repeated it louder and louder, trying to get her attention, so she looked up, visibly annoyed. "What?"
Now she was looking at him, he didn't know what to say. Or rather: he did, he just couldn't get all the words out.
"Um..."
She frowned. "I'm busy... just - just - I'm busy," she finished.
"You got a stutter?" Alfie asked jokily, forgetting himself for a minute. He couldn't help it. The cheeky, jokey side of him always appeared when he wasn't paying attention.
Kat glanced up again, surprised. "No." she said shortly, but he saw she wanted to smile. He was encouraged by this, and went on.
"You sounded like you were doing a DJ thing for a minute just then," he said. "Scratching discs, or whatever it's called."
"What are you on about?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Well, at least it was a reaction.
"Do you know, I'm not sure," Alfie said, putting his best thoughtful expression on. That time he was sure he saw the corners of her mouth twitch. She was trying not to smile.
"Um... how's Nana?" Kat asked. She wanted to divert the conversation onto something safe.
She saw Alfie's funny expression fade. He looked away. "She's alright."
Kat frowned slightly. "What's up?"
For a moment she forgot what had happened, that they weren't together anymore, and they were talking like they would have before. It was just a moment.
"Um..." Alfie looked at her, and she thought he was about to say something serious. But then (Big) Mo appeared.
"Don't tell me you're talking to him," she said, disgusted. She threw Alfie a dirty look.
"Nan," Kat said, annoyed. Alfie turned back to his stall, and the mask was back on. What had he been about to say? Well, he wasn't going to tell her now, was he?
She sighed and went to talk to a customer. What did she care, anyway? She didn't need to know everything that was going on in his life now. They weren't together. Just thinking that made her feel horrible. It was awful, being apart. She knew they both loved each other as much as they always had - and would they ever stop? - but things had changed. Things had happened. Too many things.
She glanced at Alfie for a second. He was wearing that shirt, the same one he had been wearing on that day when he had told her he loved her and didn't want her to leave. And then they had gone back to his place and snogged for about an hour - she grinned at the memory - and watched TV curled up on the sofa, and stayed up talking until midnight. Then they had curled up in Alfie's bed, too tired to do anything, but comfortable, and neither of them had ever been happier. Oh, what was the use in thinking about stuff like that? It was gone, it was over. She wanted to cry, but that was the worst thing she could do. Hmm, wasn't that a song from Grease?
She shook her head and turned back to her stall. Some things were better left dead.
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this is absoloutly brill!
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Kat went back to the house later. She had felt like she was operating on autopilot ever since... ever since that night. She was alright during the day, it was just at night when the darkness closed in like a blanket and she felt so alone in her bed, that it got bad. Sometimes she would cry herself to sleep, and she would cry about everything she'd ever had a reason to cry about - Harry, Zoe, her mother, Alfie, Andy, the baby she'd lost, Little Mo... Just when she thought she'd got it under control, another half-forgotten image or scrap of sound would float into her head from afar: the creak of the floorboards as someone entered her bedroom on a pale dusky night when she was thirteen; the stiff starchy feel of the hospital bedsheets after she'd had Zoe; and before that, her mother, sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, crying brokenly, for she had just found out something that no mother ever wants to find out. Kat remembered going up to her mother timidly, wanting to say she was sorry for causing trouble, but her mum had seen her and covered her face with a cry. Kat had never fully understood why her mother hadn't been able to look at her that night. Now maybe she did.
But today she felt okay. Talking to Alfie had been a breakthrough, she supposed. Maybe she had been wrong, maybe they could be friends. But only carefully, she thought. They'd have to be careful it stayed as friendship, nothing else. They had to keep their distance. She repeated these thoughts in her head. They couldn't let something like that table incident happen again.
She glanced down at the table as this thought occured to her. After she had told Alfie to leave, she had sat down at it and stared. Not cried - she had no room for tears yet - but just stared at it. For no particular reason, really. Then she had gone upstairs and cuddled up to her little sister, because she had known that that was the right thing to do. And she needed some right in her life.
Kat sighed deeply and went upstairs. There was nothing much to do. She climbed into bed after brushing her teeth, but couldn't sleep. She opened a bedside drawer, hunting for something. She knew she shouldn't, it wouldn't help her get over him, but she couldn't help it. She pulled out a creased, battered photo and curled up, gazing at it. She stroked the image on the photo - Alfie.
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this is brill. it's showing a side of kat that we never see.
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Awwww this is great! Its so sweet. Please post more soon :D
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While Kat drifted off to sleep clutching an old photo of her husband, Little Mo was downstairs watching TV with Charlie and their nan. Little Mo had been dealing with things in her own way, really. She had kind of shrugged her shoulders and got on with it, ignoring that her heart felt ripped in half.
There had been an atmosphere in the Slater house, though. Kat had told Little Mo that she and Alfie were over, because Kat loved Little Mo more, and that was that. But not with the others. Their Nan had been treating Little Mo in an offhand kind of way, speaking to her without any real interest. Little Mo supposed that was just how things were going to be. Mo had always seemed to like Kat more than any of her other granddaughters.
The show they were watching on TV had a woman in it who'd just found out her husband had been cheating on her. Little Mo shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"You w**re," the woman on the TV said to the other woman.
"I think I'll just go and make a cup of tea," Little Mo said hurriedly. She jumped out and went into the kitchen and sank down on a chair by the table, head in her hands. If it was all over, why did she feel this bad?
She sighed and decided she couldn't be bothered to face them any more tonight. She trailed upstairs, shoulders sagging.
"Kat?" she whispered as she opened the door. She wanted to talk to someone. Even though Kat probably hated what she, Little Mo, had done to her and Alfie, she would listen.
But Kat was asleep, tucked up under the covers. One of her hands was poking out, and it was curled into a loose fist. Little Mo saw something in it, a sheet of paper or something. She tiptoed over to Kat's bed and cautiously unfurled Kat's hand to look at the object.
She let out a gasp, stricken by emotion. It was a photo of Kat and Alfie, taken in the living room at the Vic. They were both asleep, or seemed to be, on the sofa, and they were cuddled up together as though nothing could ever pull them apart. But something did, Little Mo thought, with a mixture of sadness and guilt.
She turned the picture over and saw the words "Get a room!!!" and a little smiley face scribbled on, in Zoe's handwriting. It must have been taken by her, when she was living at the Vic. Underneath that was written, more carefully, "I love you Kat, for all of eternity" presumably by Alfie. And then it was Zoe's handwriting again, saying "Soppy git". Little Mo smiled sadly to herself. Had she broken all that up? Had she? And what for?
She placed the photo back in Kat's hand carefully - Kat's fingers wrapped around it unconsciously - and slid into bed herself. She watched her sister sleeping until the tears came and blurred her vision, and ran down onto the pillow until it was soaked with guilty tears.
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You have no idea how hard it is for me trying to make Little Mo sound good:D when I hate her guts:mad:
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Alfie was keeping himself busy the next morning by discussing Nana's list with her. It was kind of an upsetting thing to do if he started thinking about it, but at least it meant concentrating on the good things and not just staring at an open grave, as Nana had put it.
"Alfie, there's one more thing," she said, in a moment of silence.
"What's that?"
"I'd like you and Kat to make up, darling."
Alfie looked at her, surprised. "Well, I'd like that too, but it's impossible, Nan."
Nana shook her head impatiently. "I don't mean get back together... just make friends again. That'd be a start, wouldn't it? And I'd love to see you happy again before I go, Alfie."
He looked away. "Yeah, me too."
"You'll try, then?"
"I can try, I suppose," Alfie sighed. "Probably won't get anywhere though. But if it's what you want Nan, then I'll do my best."
"Oh," said Nana happily, "You're too good to me, Alfie."
He laughed, but he didn't feel like it. He had tried to bury his sadness about Nana's condition, but it was really bringing him down.
Later on, he was out on the market, watching Kat wistfully (she occasionally glanced his way too, but was pretending not too) when he saw Nana wandering past.
"What are you doing out?" he asked in concern.
She looked at him. "Don't be silly Alfie. The sunlight won't melt me."
"Alright," he said. "But be careful though, yeah?"
"Yes," she said, smiling. She walked up to Kat, and Alfie felt his heart seem to jump into his throat.
"Hello Kat," Nana said.
"Oh, hi Nana," Kat replied. "Are you okay?"
"To tell the truth, I've been feeling a bit under the weather," Nana said.
"Oh, no," Kat said, genuinely concerned. "Do you need anything?"
'Well," said Nana innocently, "Would you come round later on? I just fancied a chat."
"Um..." said Kat hesitantly, looking in Alfie's direction.
"Alfie'll be out," Nana said quickly. "Come round about two-ish, won't you? I could do with some company."
Kat could hardly refuse. She smiled. "Okay."
"Good," said Nana, pleased. "I'll see you then."
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this is so good! plz do more!! :D
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Fantastic. Please do more asap. :)
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Great :D please do more soon
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This is great! i love nana! shes very scheming though!! more asap!
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Kat went to the Moons' house at two o'clock, just as Nana had asked. She felt a bit uncomfortable about it - who wouldn't? - but kind of excited in an uneasy way. She knocked on the door and a few moments later Nana Moon opened it.
"Hello, Kat," she said, smiling. "Will you make me some tea, darling? Alfie always puts too much sugar in."
"Alfie's here?" Kat paused on the doorstep.
"Oh, no," Nana said. She looked innocent, but something in her eyes gave her a mischevious look. "He's on the stall, he won't be back for ages."
"Um... okay," Kat said uneasily. She followed Nana into the kitchen and put the kettle on. It felt kind of unsettling to be back here again, when a few weeks ago Alfie had been making cooked breakfast for her and she had wandered in wearing only the top half of his pajamas, and smiling in a sultry way. She shook herself mentally. Get a grip.
"One sugar?" she asked. Nana nodded.
"Alfie's a good lad, but he's terrible at making tea right," Nana remarked. Kat smiled vacantly - it was kind of painful to talk about him - and sat down at the table.
"How are you feeling then?" she asked.
"Oh, don't worry about me," Nana said cheerily.
Kat didn't like the sound of that. "Are you alright?"
"Right as rain, darling," Nana replied, but once again Kat thought she saw that impish sparkle in the old lady's eyes. She had never really got used to Alfie's grandma - she looked sweet and harmless, but she wasn't a fool. Nana always knew what she was doing, and sometimes she knew more than she seemed to. Kat understood why the Moons were so caring of their grandma, and she felt she loved her like she did her own nan.
"Kat," Nana said suddenly, breaking in on Kat's musings, "Have you spoken to Alfie lately?"
"Um... not really," Kat said. "We're not..."
She wanted to say that she and Alfie were keeping their distance, but it felt like a stupid thing to say.
"Well, I think you should," Nana said. She smiled at Kat. "You two ought to make friends again, darling. Alfie's been ever so sad without you to talk to - he's been moping around the house with a right face on."
Kat stirred uncomfortably in her chair. "I..."
"I keep telling him, if the wind changes it'll stay like that, but will he listen? No." Nana Moon trailed off, still looking perfectly innocent.
"I'm sorry," Kat whispered. She was on the verge of tears. "I've been sad too Nana."
"He misses you, I think," Nana said, watching Kat with a gentle expression on her face.
"I know. I miss him too." Kat was suddenly pouring it all out, all her grief over losing Alfie. Losing everything they ever had. Losing their future. "It's not fair, I want him more than anything but -"
Suddenly she heard the front door open and froze in mid-sentence. "It's only me!" Alfie called.
Kat jumped up hurriedly and scrambled for the back door, but Alfie entered the kitchen before she could escape. He stopped and looked from her to his nana guardedly.
"What..." he trailed off, and tapped his keys on the side of the fridge, flummoxed. "Why are you here?"
"I was just..." she looked to Nana for support. The old lady was sitting at the table with her arms folded, looking at both of them.
"I asked Kat round, Alfie," Nana said eventually. "I fancied a chat."
"Oh," Alfie said uneasily. "Well, I'll go -"
"No, you only just got here. I think you and Kat could do with a chat anyhow."
Kat and Alfie stared at each other uncertainly. When their eyes met, it felt as though there was a spark of electricity in the air. Same old, Kat thought half-angrily. Don't you dare fall for him again, you're up to your neck in it as it is. Remember what's-her-face. Mo.
Kat suddenly dashed out, trying to get to the front door to escape. She couldn't take any more of this - this rubbish. It hurt too damn much.
But Alfie followed her. "Kat, wait -"
"What?" she exclaimed, one hand on the doorknob. "What do you want from me, Alfie? There's nothing left to say!"
"There's plenty left to say!" Alfie said loudly. Too loud. He mustn't shout at her.
"What?!" she exploded. She moved away from the door in her anger. She hadn't even known it was there, all this fury... buried inside... Anger at him. Everything he'd done, every new way he'd found to hurt her. Even when they had been renewing their wedding vows on the kitchen table, as she had so eloquently put it, she had been pretty damn cheesed off at him. That was probably why he had been left with some rather nasty scratches on his back. Anger and lust, anger and lust... weren't they the things that governed her life?
"Well..." he fell silent, searching for the right words. If there were any.
"I'm waiting!" she shouted. "Anything more you want to tell me? Any more dirty little secrets? Because we might as well get them out in the open now, Alfie, we've nothing left to lose!"
"I bloody love you!" he shouted back. "Isn't that enough?!"
"No! No it isn't!"
"It should be!" he shouted. His voice broke in the middle of the sentence - what, was he thirteen again? - and that just served to p**s him off even more.
Kat threw her hands up in exasperation. She wanted to leave, nothing was physically stopping her, so why couldn't she? She stomped into the living room.
He followed her resignedly. "Kat, why do we always have to do this? Why can't we just be friends again?"
"I can't, Alfie," she said in a low voice. The fight was gone out of her now. "I just can't, alright?"
"Why not? What are you scared of?"
"Us," she said quietly. "Us and everything that goes wrong around us."
He was shocked into silence by such a straightforward answer.
"It always goes wrong," she said. She was crying. "It always gets *******ed up."
Alfie looked affronted by her language but said nothing still.
She looked up at him. "You never tell me the truth. Why won't you?"
"What?" he said, caught off guard.
"Tell me the truth," she said, tears coursing down her cheeks. "That's all I wanted, that's all you had to do..." she sat down on the sofa heavily, crying.
He lapsed into silence again, staring at her.
"Say something!" she exclaimed, getting worked up again. "Damn you, won't you say something!!!"
"She's dying," Alfie broke out suddenly.
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Kat stopped. "What?"
"My nana. She's dying." Alfie said flatly.
Kat stared at him, open-mouthed. "Oh God, I'm sorry -"
"It's alright," Alfie said, looking off into the distance. His eyes were blurring up. This was the first time he'd told anyone. "She's making a list of things she wants to do before she - before -" He breathed in thickly.
Kat saw he wanted to cry. Her heart went out to him and she forgot everything; she only knew that he was her husband and he was in pain. She jumped up automatically and went to him, wrapping her arms around him without thought.
He sniffled in her ear. "She's gonna die and there'll be nobody left-"
She made him sat down on the sofa with her and hugged him to her closely, her hand stroking the back of his neck like she would with a child. He mumbled something more, trying to justify himself, but she didn't listen.
"It's alright," she whispered. "You can cry if you want."
She touched the back of his head, feeling the softness of his springy black hair beneath her fingers, and let him cry quietly - pretending he wasn't, the idiot - into her shoulder and neck. She realised how good it felt to be near him again. It gave her that odd squirmy feeling in her stomach, not a bad feeling, but a strange, secret one. She breathed in his aroma, a warm, clean-clothes smell that she had loved, and would love, all her life.
Somehow she knew he wasn't just crying for his grandma. He was crying for her, Kat, too. It occured to her that she was in the arms of a man who loved her and would gladly give his life for her.
"Alfie," she said, savouring the word. She remembered how she had loved it whenever he said her name (in certain circumstances...) and remembered thinking that never had there been a better sound in the world than that one syllable, spoken by him. She wondered if he felt the same. The word 'Alfie' meant so much: it meant stupid shirts that you'd see coming a mile off; it meant that lovely soft black hair and soulful brown eyes that'd melt your heart if you let them; it meant random presents for no reason, like the time she'd found a dozen roses addressed to her on no special occasion; it meant watching soppy films on the telly and snogging each other's faces off afterwards. Alfie.
You can't do this, a tiny voice in the back of her mind supplied. You can't, think of Mo, think of-
Who? she thought sleepily.
Your sister, the voice wailed, but was unheard.
She felt his breathing slow down and he wasn't crying anymore, but he wasn't moving out of the hug either. Aha...
"It'll be alright," she said gently. "I promise."
Alfie straightened up. Her arms were still around his neck. "Yeah," he said, sniffing.
She gazed into his eyes for a moment and then remembered herself. She pulled away from him and moved away. But oh God she had wanted to kiss him just then. Right then - when he had looked so lost and alone and vulnerable and emotional and everything, she would have liked nothing better than to simply kiss him, once, on the lips. Just a kiss. Was it too much to ask?
The answer was yes, of course. Yes, it was. Because one little kiss would lead to one huge kiss, and then tables would probably get involved. She sighed inwardly. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair.
"I'd better be going," she said quickly. "I - um... yeah."
She fled. From him. Running from her husband. Bah.
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Kat went to bed that night in a funny mood. she was strangely content, but wasn't sure why. It felt like everything was alright with the world. But it wasn't. So why did she think... Oh, forget it. She got into bed and yawned, curling up. Tonight she didn't have to gaze at photos of Alfie before she could be calm. She gave a happy sigh and shut her eyes. The only thing that could make it better was if he was actually there beside her, his arm sneaking around her and maybe even feeling her up drowsily. She grinned in the dark. She missed him... but for now, memories would do.
At the Moons' house, Alfie was drifting off to sleep. It had been a long, surprising day, but now it was over and he could sleep. He thought of Kat. How it had felt, being close to her. He loved her to bits. Thoughts came and went in his mind like the tide of the sea. The one that kept recurring was Kat. Kat. Kat. He wanted her back. It was maddening. They both wanted each other like hell, why couldn't they be together? Of course. He knew. Her sister. He rolled over and frowned at the ceiling. He was starting to curse the day he had ever looked at Mo like that. He was such an idiot. He didn't love Mo. Why should he? Kat was the one for him. It all felt so ridiculous now - how on earth could he have ever wanted Mo over Kat? Had he been drunk?
Yes. It was maddening. He thought about how she had been breathing hard when she had hugged him to her, and how that had made her chest move up and down in such an interesting way... He groaned, tormented, and rolled back over again. Damn it. And he couldn't even look at a table now without thinking about that. He thought about Kat as he closed his eyes, and it calmed him a little. Kept his mind off the other stuff. The bad stuff. Trouble was, it put his mind onto different stuff, stuff that he shouldn't really be thinking about. Well, Kat wouldn't mind, he thought, and grinned sleepily. She'd probably be flattered, actually. Hmm... alright then. Stuff it. Stuff stuff, as he had said to Kat in a time somewhere far away. Before.
Outside in the pale midnight sky, clouds drifted past the moon in a neverending dance of fools.
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On Sunday, Alfie was having a (well-deserved, he thought) lie in, when someone knocked at the door. He sighed.
"What sort of idiot knocks on your door at nine a.m. on a Sunday?" he mused grumpily on his way to the door. He opened it.
"Alfie," Kat said. "How's Nana?"
"Alright," he replied, taken aback. "I didn't expect-"
"I brought some stuff round," Kat said determinedly, brandishing a bunch of flowers.
"Oh, no, she doesn't want-"
He met Kat's eyes and gave in. "I'll put them in some water."
She followed him into the kitchen. "And how are you?"
"Fine," he said uneasily. He didn't really want reminding that he had spent yesterday crying on her shoulder like a baby.
She smiled gently at him. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"How do you you do that?"
"What?"
"Read my mind."
She grinned. "I've had lots of practice."
He glanced at the floor. Awkward moments, don't you just hate them. And he was pondering over if she'd really want to know that he had spent yesterday night doing something he shouldn't have been doing while thinking about someone he shouldn't have been thinking about, when she said something that made him jump.
"Do you know, I slept really well last night," Kat said.
"Er...good?"
"Yeah. I wasn't worrying about anything. And I was thinking about you." she looked at him quickly, as though wondering if this was taking it too far. It probably was, but who cares?
"Me too," said Alfie quickly. Too quickly. Oh dear. And he was turning pink, he just knew it. I thought it was only girls that blushed, he thought, annoyed.
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Oh."
Great. Now she knew and he knew and he might as well paint it across his forehead that he wanted to sleep with her. Oh well. She already knew that. Nothing new. He frowned in embarrassment.
She was looking at him. Had she said something? He panicked.
"Um..."
"I said, we probably shouldn't be having this conversation."
"No," Alfie agreed.
They looked at each other for a minute. Alfie remembered suddenly that he was stood very close to the table. He glanced at it involuntarily. Kat noticed and there followed another awkward moment. Alfie was getting fed up of those. He broke the silence.
"You know, we must be the only people who can't bring themselves to look at kitchen tables."
Kat grinned despite herself. "Yeah."
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:) Fab as usual, Please do more asap.
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Awwwww bless them its great :D more soon
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'Tis amazing... fabarooney... post more soon...
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Kat walked into her bedroom later that day and her heart dropped like a stone. Mo was lying on her bed crying.
"Oh darling what's up?" Kat said, going to her. Mo shook her head, tears falling like rain.
"Tell me," Kat tried.
"I'm sorry," Mo gasped out. "I'm sorry Kat I'm so sorry I -"
"What? What about?"
"You and Alfie you should be together it's all my fault -" Mo gulped painful tears back.
Kat stopped. "No, it wasn't your fault..." The words felt all dry and wrong in her mouth.
"It was!" Mo looked at her, eyes shining. "You and Alfie would still be together now if it wasn't for me, and I hear you crying in the night Kat and you should be together, you should be -"
"You're babbling," Kat cut in.
Mo sniffled, a desolate sound, and wiped her eyes with her bedcovers.
"I already told you, me and Alfie aren't gonna be together no more, because..." Kat frowned - "- any more, I mean, because we just can't."
"Because of me," Mo said dully.
"Not all because of you, no - we just got to that point where there's nothing more to say and nothing more to do." Kat knew she was speaking rationally, being sensible - Alfie would be proud - and yet still part of her was howling in pain at the back of her mind and flying about kicking the walls. That was the part that would like nothing better than to take this snivelling, sorry excuse for a woman and show her what real pain felt like.
"That isn't true," Mo said. She rolled over onto her stomach. "It's because of me, and you know it."
Kat sighed. "Well, even if it was, it still amounts to the same thing. We're not together and we never will be again." She felt a strange bite of gloom gnaw at her when she said this. "Now I'll go and get you some hot chocolate, that'll cheer you up."
Mo sniffled miserably and Kat left the room. She wanted to cry herself, but she couldn't. Because that would upset Mo. Huh. Kat felt like there were two sides of a coin - Alfie and Mo - and she had to pick one or the other... She had chosen Mo, of course. Because she was her sister and she loved her. But...
At the Moons' house, Nana and Alfie were getting on with that list. Alfie was trying not to show Nana how upset this made him inside, but it was hard. He had let it all out the other day in Kat's arms, though - some kind of rubbish therapy, he thought. Oh, yeah, right. Cry your eyes out all over your wife, and be cured of all ills. Oh, dear.
"You know, I've always wanted to go to your grandad's grave, Alfie," she said sombrely.
"I'll se what I can do then," Alfie said jovially.
"Oh, you mean we could go?"
"Course," Alfie said. "If that's what you want, that's what we shall do."
"And I'd like to go and see your mum and dad, too," Nana said.
Alfie blinked. For a second he was confused. "Oh, you mean - yeah. Yeah."
He looked at his feet for a moment. Visiting his grandad's grave was all very well - he had never met the bloke, after all - but going to see his parents' graves, where they were buried together, was a bit... oh, he didn't know. He had once confessed to Kat that he felt like it was his fault they had died, because his dad had wanted him to fix something on the car but he never had... And then they were dead with a lorry squashing their car into a ditch, the car that Alfie had used to take his girlfriends out in. And Spencer had wandered around the house - he had been five, and Alfie twenty-five - asking Alfie, in a whiny voice: "Where's Mummy? Where's Daddy?" over and over.
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Awwww poor Kat and Alfie :( They should be together! Please do more soon :D
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Alfie saw Kat on the market a few days later and his face lit up. "Kat," he called to her. He had missed talking to her.
Kat looked up, frowning. "What?"
"Um... I just wanted to say hi," Alfie said uncertainly. She seemed jumpy this morning. "Never mind."
"Fine," Kat said shortly. Alfie blinked, confused. Just a few days ago they had been flirting - well, near enough - at his house, and now she would hardly give him a word. Typical. He would never understand women, he thought gloomily, for as long as he would live.
"You in a mood, or what?" he asked, perplexed.
Kat sighed. "No."
"Then why -" he paused. "Why aren't you talking to me?"
Kat didn't answer him at first. He tried again, but she looked up angrily. "Because, unless it slipped your mind, we're not together any more. It was you or my sister, and I chose Mo."
She turned away deliberately. She had had to do it, no matter how much it hurt her. Seeing Mo so upset the other night had made her remember everything... "Don't cry, Kit-kat"... Ridiculous, really. But she loved Mo and nothing should have ever interfered with that. No, she thought determinedly. From now on it was family only for her.
Hasn't it always been? that snide little voice at the back of her mind sniggered. Vice is nice, but incest is best, eh Kit-Kat?
Shove it, Kat replied - to herself? What? Well, I suppose this is what comes from having a warped mind. A little "evil voices are talking to me from my own head" couldn't hurt. As long as they don't tell me to burn things. She shook herself mentally. I'm alright. Amazingly, I'm not crazy, either.
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more soon.... you wouldn't mind if I kind of went off on a tangent and started doing random flashbacks to Kat and Alfie's past, would you? I just got the idea then.... :rolleyes:
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Excellent... Flashbacks are good too. Please do more asap.
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Brilliant :) please do more soon
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more more more... please post more... 'Tis fabarooney...
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brill! you can do flashbacks!
Please do more soon!
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So I'm gonna do the flashback thing.... It may get creepy with Kat, for obvious reasons, plus I've just been reading Stephen King books so... :rolleyes: yeah. (It! :eek: )
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A crumbly brick wall outside a park in the poorer area of London. 1983. A thirteen-year-old girl sits, black hair swinging over her face, partially hiding her greenish eyes. She fiddles with a bracelet she is wearing - a charm with little silver cats hanging from it. Her schoolbag is on the floor between her feet. The sky is light, but there is a heavy feel to the air that indicates it may rain later.
An old lady passed by with her shopping and gave the girl a wide berth. Kat didn't look up. She was used to it. She tucked some strands of hair back behind her ear and, once the lady had passed, looked up.
If there was anyone around to see, they might be surprised by how pretty she is, in a strange way. There were the faded, purpley remnants of a bruise around her left eye. She wasn't wearing any makeup; that was the second thing that would strike an onlooker, if there was anyone around to see. Her eyes seemed to hold something, some knowledge; they had a haunted, almost ghostly look. A week ago, when she had got the bruise around her eye, she had told her parents that she'd got in a fight at school. They had accepted this, although the shouting hadn't died down for a while. Her father had demanded to know the name of the kid who had hit her; she had refused to give it. Which was just as well, since the kid didn't exist.
Kat glanced down at her schoolbag, which was slumped and tattered on the floor. She wasn't really bothered about school. It was just something that got her away from home, away from -
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
Kat glanced up, surprised. A middle-aged man with dark hair was standing nearby, looking at her. She looked at him warily.
"It's half past eleven, why aren't you in school?" the man continued, his eyes narrowing.
"Day off," Kat replied. It sounded ridiculous, even to her. But why should she care? He was just a nosey idiot.
The man frowned. "What school do you go to? I think I'll telephone them."
Kat jumped up off the wall. "It's none of your f*cking business."
"Hey!" the man exclaimed angrily. "How dare you talk to me like that? Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Kat ignored him and ran into the park. There were loads of hiding places in there, ones that only she and a load of druggies seemed to know about. He would probably look for her for a few minutes and then get bored and p*ss off. Good.
She crawled behind some bushes in a dark corner and knelt down, careful where she put her hands. There were needles and all sorts of rubbish in here. Once she had bumped into two of the druggie lot, but they hadn't bothered her, except to offer her some of their stuff. She had said no and got the hell out of there. She wasn't stupid.
She could hear that man wandering around looking for her, but he was far off. He wouldn't find her. He -
Suddenly she realised that she had left her schoolbag by the wall, and it had her name and school written on it. She cursed and hit the wall with her fist angrily. She was done for. Her dad would kill her, and her mum would - well, her mum would do that look she did sometimes, that despairing look. That was because of what Kat had said about what Harry had been doing to her, and how she was scared he might do something worse. And her mum hadn't believed her. And when Kat had still kept on saying it, crying her eyes out with the effort of telling this shameful secret, her mum had slapped her and not spoken to her for days.
Kat didn't know how long she stayed in that corner for, but the man had gone and her legs had gone numb where she'd been kneeling. It started to rain, big heavy droplets that splashed and dripped wetly onto the back of Kat's neck. She only had her school skirt, blouse and blazer on, and she was freezing. Eventually she got up and wandered round the park for a bit, watching how the ducks sought shelter and quacked in annoyance at the rain.
She was scared to go home, that was the truth. She always was nowadays. Just stepping inside the front door made her shudder and she wanted to run and hide, but nowhere was safe. If home wasn't safe, then where was?
The water was soaking her to the skin, but she stayed in the park. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with rain and it was dripping off the end of her nose. She sniffed and sneezed. Great. Now she was getting a cold. She leant against a tree and tried wiping her nose with her blazer sleeve, but that was soaked too. But the weird thing was, she didn't really mind. She picked up a few stones and tried skimming them across the lake, but they just plopped sadly and disappeared.
She gave up and squelched towards the park gates. She would wander around the streets for a while, maybe find a shop and buy some sweets. She felt around experimentally in her pockets, but they were empty. Alright then, find a shop and pinch some sweets. She flicked the waterlogged strands of hair from her face and shivered.
While she walked the streets, steadily getting wetter and wetter, she thought about running away. Could she? Could she really just not go home? Instead of turning left at the junction a few streets away, she could just carry on walking and hitch a ride into central London, then... Then what? Live on the streets?
The newsagents she had planned to go in and pinch some sweets from was closed. She groaned. She had really fancied some strawberry laces. It wasn't fair. She carried on walking, head down. When she got to the junction...
She looked left down the long road. It was a boring, tatty old street, the sort with beat-up cars in the front gardens and a few houses with boarded-up windows. Pure trash. She hated that street. She especially hated number 73 - their house. It was so dingy and dull. But that wasn't why she hated it. She could stand dullness. It was the other stuff...
She didn't turn left. With a toss of her head, she crossed the road and carried on walking.
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Aww poor Kat, brilliant writing though, please post some more soon :)
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Yeah I meant to reply last night but err didnt (dont really know why oh well never mind) More soon this is fab
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Kat had only got half a mile up the road, dripping with rain, when she heard a car horn beep behind her. She turned around and saw her father's car slowing to a halt next to the path. The door opened from inside. Kat sighed and prepared herself for a huge telling-off. He got really mad whenever he found out she'd been twagging.
But as she slid resignedly into the front passenger seat, she saw that it wasn't her father in the driver's seat at all... It was the other one. Him.
"Your dad got a phone call from the school," he said conversationally.
"Is he angry?" Kat asked. That was one of the many weird things. She and him could talk with that peculiar directness, as though nothing much needed to be said. They had always been close. He had been her friend even when everyone else was mad at her for some reason or other.
"What do you think?" Harry said, turning the indicator on. Kat found herself smiling weakly.
He wasn't turning into their street. Kat glanced at him, and although he didn't meet her gaze, he seemed to know.
"Thought you might not want to go home right away," he said, answering the unspoken question.
She felt a rush of gratitude towards him, mixed with a weird cold feeling. "Yeah."
He drove into another street, and while he was changing gear, his broad knuckles (accidentally?) brushed the bare skin of her thigh. Her entire body seemed to turn to stone and she didn't dare move another muscle until he parked the car and undid his seatbelt. She undid hers with numb fingers and scrabbled at the door, wanting to get out for some reason that she didn't want to think about.
They went in a sweetshop and Harry bought Kat some strawberry laces. He had somehow stored the knowledge that these were her favourite sweets, and had insisted on buying a packet for her. To cheer her up, she supposed. They got back in the car and he drove back to their house, parking outside. He paused for a minute.
"Look, you know he only gets mad at you because he cares about you, don't you?"
Kat stirred in her seat. "Yeah."
"And he wants you to do well," Harry continued. "At school and that."
"I know," Kat replied. Her voice had gone all quiet.
"Good girl," he said, seeming satisfied.
Kat got out the car, her legs trembling, and went inside the house to face the music. The pack of strawberry laces was clutched in her right hand.
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more more more... more more more... more more more...