Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 :: 36 :: 37 :: 38 :: 39 :: 40 :: 41 :: 42 :: 43 :: 44 :: 45 :: 46 :: 47 :: 48 :: 49 :: 50 :: 51 :: 52 :: 53 :: 54 :: 55 :: 56 :: 57 :: 58 :: 59 :: 60 ::

Chapter 12

“At last!” thought Buffy.

Finally it was the Sunday before their senior year started at Sunnydale High School, and today was the day she’d get to see William. He’d told her he’d be back on the Saturday before school started but he hadn’t said what time; all her friends had advised her against going then as it would be a bit unfair to arrive perhaps just after they had. Now she was walking eagerly to his house looking forward to getting to speak to him at last.

She walked up the path past the rickety fence and knocked on the door. After a time she knocked again, hard enough to make her knuckles sting, and still no answer. She decided to walk round to the back to see if she could see any sign of life, perhaps they were still in bed? They could have gotten in really late yesterday. As she walked past the window to William’s bedroom she peered in; she couldn’t see him and his bed was neatly made. She looked into the kitchen but still there was no sign of anyone. Puzzled she knocked on the back door.

“They’re not back from England.”

Buffy turned round to see who’d spoken; a heavy - set woman in the garden next door was watching her over the fence.

“Oh? But I thought they were due home yesterday?” said Buffy.

“They were. Maybe the flight was delayed. Anyway, they’re not here yet.”

“Okay, thanks, I guess I’ll see William in school.”

Buffy turned away and slowly made her way home. As soon as she got in she called Willow to tell her the news.

“William will hate it if he misses the start of term,” said Willow, “He’ll have lost his chance of the one hundred percent attendance record on the first day.”

“Yeah, I did want to see him before school but perhaps he’ll get home sometime today and make it in tomorrow?” said Buffy hopefully.

Ooooooo

The next day saw Buffy, Willow, Xander and Oz walking up the steps into the school building together. A large notice had been taped onto the door informing all seniors to gather in the school hall before start of class.

“Wonder what this is all about?” said Xander as they made their way there.

“Dunno,” replied Oz.

Soon the hall was crowded with students. Principal Snyder walked onto the stage, his face grave, which wasn’t particularly unusual - most of the students had never seen the man smile.

“Can I have your attention, please?” he called, his voice carrying to all corners of the room.

He waited for complete silence to fall before he continued.

“I have some very bad news to convey regarding one of the best students Sunnydale High has ever seen, William Pratt.”

“Oh God! What’s The Pratt done now?” Angel’s sneering voice sounded from near the back.

“O’Connor! My room immediately after this!” cried Snyder.

Buffy found she was holding her breath.

“I’m sorry to tell you that William was killed in a road traffic accident while he was on vacation in England.”

“No!” gasped Buffy.

Willow put her arm around her friend; she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“We shall be holding a memorial service for him at a later date of which you shall be informed. His uncle, Mr. Rupert Giles, was due to commence as our new librarian, but understandably his arrival will be delayed as he tends to William’s cousin James Norman. James was the only survivor of the crash which claimed the lives of his parents and also William’s mother. Once James has recovered from his injuries he will be joining us here at Sunnydale when Mr Giles starts work and I trust you will all make him feel very welcome. The library will have restricted opening times until then.”

By the time Snyder had dismissed them Buffy was crying openly, and clinging to her friend.

“Oh, poor William, it’s so unfair,” she sobbed.

“I know, Buffy, I know,” soothed Willow. She nodded to the boys to leave them alone and stayed in the hall with Buffy long after everyone else had left, not caring about class.

Ooooooo

On the same day several thousand miles away James was being prepared for discharge from the hospital. It was three weeks after the crash and though he still had no improvement in his memory, everything else was healing nicely. The sutures in the cut around his left eye had been removed leaving a pink scar and his left eye was back to normal. To aid James, since he couldn’t use crutches because of his broken shoulder blade, the plaster cast on his left ankle had been replaced with a stronger ‘walking’ cast so he could move about the house on his own. He was nervous about going home. He desperately wanted his memory to come back but knew it was going to hurt like hell when it did. The grief he had been unable to feel, so far, would be waiting for him with the memories.

“Why are we goin’ to my house?” James asked Rupert, “Why not yours?”

“That’d be a bit difficult, James, I live in New York.” * “Or rather I did.” *

Today was the day he should have started work at William’s school. He’d applied for the job when Julia had contacted him about her serious concerns for William and Jayne. He had told only Julia and Thomas of his plans. So far he’d shied away from telling James that he intended the pair of them to go to Sunnydale as soon as he was fit.

“New York?” exclaimed James.

“Yes, I’ve been there for about four years now. Right, I think it’s time to get you out of here,” said Rupert.

James got off the bed and into the wheelchair that Rupert had ready for him to use. The nurse who’d brought the mirror to James that day came over to say goodbye.

“Come back and see us when you’re fully fit,” she said, “It’ll be nice to see you when you’re back on your feet.”

“Um, okay,” said James.

As they pulled up into the driveway of his home James looked at the house. The last time he’d been in here he’d had a family, now all he had was an uncle who he hadn’t seen in years. They went into the sitting room.

“Sit yourself down, James, I’ll go and make us a cup of tea,” said Giles, leaving him alone. He knew he’d want to look over what should be a very familiar room on his own.

James made his way to the fireplace - there were photographs in frames on its mantle. He picked one up of him with his parents, probably a couple of years ago, taken on holiday somewhere. He studied his face in the photo, and then looked at his reflection in the large mirror above the fireplace. The scar was new, obviously, as was the fact that his nose was slightly crooked due to the break - he looked a lot older than in the photograph and thinner. He looked at the faces of his parents, but still no images came to mind. Had Dr. Clarkson been wrong? Was this the way it was going to be?

He sat on the couch when Rupert returned with the tea. Their conversation was stilted, both nervous of how the next few days would go. In the early afternoon James asked Rupert if he’d mind if he went for a lie down.

“You don’t have to ask, James,” replied Rupert, “Do you want a hand to get up the stairs?”

“No, I think I’ll be okay, thanks,” said James as he got up and limped out of the room, just needing to be alone, and feeling restless and unsettled.

He hobbled up the stairs, pausing on the landing for a moment before opening the door nearest him. It was obviously his bedroom; he looked around seeing the desk with the computer, the piles of CDs, a few books, posters of various groups. He went in and sat without thinking on the camp bed pushed against one wall rather than the proper bed.

On the bed beside him were an obviously new laptop computer and a few other things including a book. James picked it up; it was a copy of the novel, Pride and Prejudice. He opened the cover and saw the inscription written there, he squinted a little and read it. His heart felt it would stop, his breath caught in his throat. He recognised the handwriting. But the reason his heart missed a beat or two was because he recognised it as his mother’s. And that meant that he wasn’t James at all – he was…

“William,” he said to himself, “Oh my God, I’m William!”

He sat there shocked as memories flooded back as if a door had been opened in his mind. Tears streamed down his face. He put his head in his hands, body wracked with sobs. When he finally managed to stem the tears, he sat there feeling emptier now that he had his memories than he had before they'd returned.

He sat there feeling crushed by the loss of his mother and James, who’d proven to be the best friend he’d ever had. His aunt and uncle had been so good to him, not just over the summer but also with the presents of books over the years that his mom had kept herself isolated from her sister.

He thought of Rich, how could he tell him that he wasn’t his friend? That all the times he’d visited it was on false pretences. Would he have visited William as often as he had James? He’d only known him a couple of weeks. And what of William? No mom, no friends, and an uncle he hadn’t met since his dad had been jailed. He was terrified of what his future held. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he couldn’t move.

“James! Are you awake?” Rupert’s voice reached him from downstairs. “I thought I’d order Chinese takeaway to get the taste of all that hospital food out of your mouth,” he joked.

“Er….yeah….that’d be great, thanks, I’ll ..um come down,” called William. “Christ, what do I do now? How do I tell him who I am? He thought desperately, “I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he decided, unable to face doing it that night.

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