Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 23

Saturday morning Spike woke up reluctantly, trying to will himself to stay asleep. He heard Rupert get up and start moving about in the kitchen. He groaned and pulled the covers up over his head.

“Come on, Spike, get up,” said Rupert, rapping sharply on his door.

“Okay,” replied Spike. He pushed off the covers and swung his feet to the floor, then he rubbed his hand through his hair and got up. He picked up his black jeans and pulled them on, walking out of his room barefooted and bare-chested.

“Morning,” said Rupert brightly.

“Mornin’,” said Spike. He slumped into his place at the dining table; he didn’t feel so good.

“Thought we’d have a good breakfast together then perhaps after you’ve done your school work we’ll go out somewhere.”

“Um, not that ‘ungry,” mumbled Spike.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rupert, “It’ll do you good.” He poured out a couple of glasses of orange juice.

Both noticed how Spike’s hand was shaking as he picked it up. He took a mouthful and quickly put it back down. He kept his head down, not looking at Rupert. Rupert looked at Spike knowing he must be feeling ill and in need of a drink - he’d seen it all before with William’s parents…

“Try to eat something, Spike, it’ll help you feel better.”

He went back into the kitchen and brought out a pile of pancakes. Spike took one and nibbled at it, pulling pieces off with his fingers and putting them in his mouth rather than using a knife and fork. It tasted like cardboard to him. He managed to eat two and to finish the juice before he asked to be excused.

“I’m…er…just going to lie down for a minute, okay?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” said Rupert, watching Spike walk to his room.

Once inside Spike curled up in a foetal position on his bed, feeling wretched.

An hour later Rupert peered in the doorway to Spike’s room after having no reply to the tap he’d given it. Spike was asleep, curled in a ball, so he decided to leave him be.

Spike finally woke up at about two in the afternoon. He pulled on a t-shirt and went into the living room.

“Um, hi,” he said sheepishly when he saw Rupert sitting reading a newspaper.

“Feeling better?”

“Er…yeah…a bit,” replied Spike.

“Fancy something to eat?” asked Rupert, both of them laughing a little as Spike’s stomach gave an audible growl.

“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?”

“I am kind of ‘ungry,” said Spike, somewhat surprised that he was.

After a lunch of a mountain of pasta, Rupert announced that they were going out. Spike felt better for being loaded up with carbs and was happy to be going out somewhere. Happy that was until he saw where Rupert parked the car- outside Buffy’s mom’s gallery.

“Shit,” thought Spike.

“Um, I’ll just wait in the car if that’s okay?” said Spike.

“What? No, it’s not okay, come on in.” replied Rupert.

“Please let me wait here,” begged Spike.

“Sorry, Spike, you’re not going out of my sight for a while,” said Rupert firmly, “Get out of the car.”

“You don’t trust me to sit in the car?” complained Spike.

“Frankly, no.” replied Rupert, “Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking of going over there to try to get something to drink?” He nodded across the street to a liquor store that Spike hadn’t even noticed; he was just desperate not to bump into Buffy after last night’s humiliation.

“No, I wasn’t ‘onest Rupert, I never even saw it,” said Spike, glancing over to it, * “But now you mention it…?” * He pulled his eyes away, “I thought you believed me that I didn’t steal anything.”

“I do believe you didn’t do it intentionally, but I know you must be wanting a drink by now and it’s easy to give in to temptation.”

“I’m not a bleedin’ alcoholic!” snapped Spike.

“I never said you were but by your own admission you’ve been drinking daily for a month and I’m not letting you have the chance to even think about going to get one. Now come on, let’s go in.”

“But…it’s just…” Spike blushed, “Last time we were in here… there was a girl… and…”

“Oh good grief, Spike, come on. If she’s there, she’s not going to bite you, is she?”

“No.” said Spike, not totally convinced. She might not actually bite him but her words would. With a sigh he got out of the car and followed Rupert into the gallery. He kept his eyes to the ground.

* “Please don’t let her be here, please don’t let her be here.” *

“Hello, Mr. Giles.”

* “Shit, she is here.” *

“Oh hello, Buffy,” replied Rupert, “Is this your Saturday job?”

“Yes, and a few more days, too. It’s my mom’s gallery.”

“Oh, is it? Your mother has some lovely things in here.”

“Thanks. She’ll be out in a minute, she’s just in the store room,” replied Buffy. She glanced at Spike; he was standing shoulders slightly stooped, hands in his pockets, head down avoiding her eyes.

At that moment Buffy’s mom walked up to the counter.

“Mom, this is Mr. Giles, he’s the new librarian at school. Mr. Giles, this is my mom,” introduced Buffy.

“Joyce Summers,” said Joyce, holding out her hand.

“Rupert,” said Rupert, taking it, “Pleased to meet you. Oh, and this is my nephew James Norman,” he said, gesturing at Spike.

“Hello, James,” she said, offering him her hand to shake.

“Um, hello, Mrs. Summers,” said Spike with the briefest of handshakes.

Buffy was watching Spike carefully. For some reason today he reminded her a bit of William. Gone was the arrogant confident swagger he usually had. No doubt something to do with being arrested yesterday, she thought derisively.

“I thought I’d have another look at that Moroccan statue I saw a few weeks ago, if you still have it?” said Rupert to Joyce.

“Yes, it’s just around here,” said Joyce, walking round the corner with him.

“I saw you last night,” said Buffy.

“I know,” muttered Spike. He glanced at the door wanting to escape but knew Rupert expected him to stay inside. He could feel his face burning; he fidgeted from one foot to the other.

“Was that your first time being taken away by the police?” asked Buffy rather spitefully.

Spike, needled by her tone, brought his eyes up to meet hers and decided to tell the truth.

“No.”

“Oh.” said Buffy, her eyes widening slightly as his blue eyes met hers properly for the first time.

He was just about to tell her about the first time when Rupert and Joyce walked back round to the counter. Joyce was carrying the ugliest statue Spike had ever seen.

“I’ll just wrap it up for you, Mr. Giles,” said Joyce.

“Call me Rupert, please,” said Rupert.

“There you are, Rupert,” said Joyce once she’d wrapped it, put it in a bag and told him the price, which made Spike’s mouth fall open.

“He’s paying how much? For that?” he thought as he followed Rupert out of the gallery and back to the car.

Ooooooo

“He’s very nice,” said Joyce as she watched Rupert drive away.

“He must be, you’ve just sold him the most hideous thing in the whole place,” joked Buffy.

“James seems a nice boy, too.”

“James is the one I told you about last night,” replied Buffy.

“I thought you said that was someone called….what was it?”

“Spike,” supplied Buffy.

“That’s it,” said Joyce.

“They’re one and the same, Mom.”

“Oh,” said Joyce.

“Yes, oh,” said Buffy, “So no, he’s not a particularly nice boy.”

Ooooooo

“She seems very nice,” said Rupert as he drove away.

“She must be, if you’ve just paid that much for that repulsive thing from her,” joked Spike.

“I didn’t know that it was Buffy we’d seen in there when we came before I’d started work. She seems a very pleasant girl,” said Rupert.

“Mm,” said Spike, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Rupert smiled to himself, “Has he got a bit of a crush?”

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