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 7

The boys arrived home to be greeted by the delicious smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen. They went to investigate.

“Hi boys, just in the nick of time,” said Julia, “Oh William, you’ve cut your hair,” she added when she saw him.

“Um, yeah,” said William.

“Let’s take a look at you.” said his mom, “It suits you, love; it makes the two of you look even more alike.”

“That’s the plan. Aunt Jayne,” grinned James.

“Don’t you be getting William into any mischief,” warned Julia, “I know what you’re like. Don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do, William. He can be very persuasive.”

“I won’t,” he replied, flushing a little at the thought of his new tattoo.

“Here,” said Jayne, handing the boys some cutlery and place mats, “Go and set the table, dinners just about ready.”

“Give your dad a shout, James,” added Julia.

Dinner was a relaxed affair. William’s mom had been cutting down the amount of liquor she drank each day and although not yet strong enough to go without any, she was never ‘drunk’. Consequently, William relaxed more as he didn’t have to worry about her behaviour.

“Why don’t yer get contact lenses?” James asked William.

“I …er…never really thought about it,” replied William, which wasn’t entirely true, he’d love lenses, one less thing to be picked on about if he didn’t wear glasses. But they were too expensive - he’d never asked his mom for them.

“You ought to, shouldn’t he, Mum?” said James.

“You could look into getting some, William. You can get those disposable ones now, so you don’t have to keep washing them. Your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it? Perhaps we can all put together and get them for you?” said Julia, correctly guessing that money may be an issue and deciding there and then that if William wanted some she’d buy a year’s supply for him. Hopefully after that Jayne would be back on her feet and able to keep a job; it would make life much easier for the pair of them.

“What do you think, Mom?” William asked, looking at her.

“That sounds like a good plan, William, if you’d like to try them.” She smiled knowing he’d checked with her because he was worried about the cost.

“Thanks, then, that’d be cool,” he replied, feeling excited at the prospect.

After dinner the boys went up to James’ room for him to do his schoolwork. He’d had permission to miss the last three weeks of term as long as he e-mailed in the work his teachers had set. His parents had managed to convince the head teacher to allow this, explaining about the family problems they were trying to sort out.

“Are yer any good at English?” asked James with a grimace when he saw what he had to do that night.

“I am, but I’m not doing it for you,” said William with a smile.

“That’s so mean,” complained James, “’Ere I am givin’ yer a room to sleep in, roof over yer ‘ead for the summer, not to mention the bonus of my company at all times and yer won’t cheat an assignment for me. I dunno wot the world’s comin’ to.”

“You know your mom said I can’t help you,” said William in response, “Yer can do it, yer just lazy,” mimicked William, sounding just like James.

James grinned at William and threw a pen at him; it missed.

“Still not fair.”

“Stop moaning and get it done,” said William, “I’ll help if you get stuck.”

William dug into his bag and pulled out a battered notepad. He sat on the camp bed that had been put in the room for him to sleep on and wriggled until his back was resting against the wall. He pulled his knees up, rested the pad on them and started scribbling away.

James focused his attention to his studies and with a couple of pointers from William finished it and e-mailed it to his teacher. When he’d turned his computer off he looked round to see William still intent on whatever he was writing. He sneaked across the room and snatched it out of William’s hands.

“Hey, give me that back!” cried William.

“Just want to take a look see,” said James, avoiding William’s efforts to get it back.

“Don’t! It’s private,” said William in desperation.

His cousin stopped and looked at him, realising this was the sort of thing he had to put up with from that git Angel at school. He was just about to give it back but couldn’t resist a glance.

“Let it never be said

That romance is dead,

‘Cause there’s so little else

Occupying my head.

There is nothing I need

Except the function to breathe,

But I’m not really fussed

Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Hey,” said James, “I thought yer weren’t into music, so ‘ow come yer’re writin’ song lyrics?”

“Lyrics?” said William, “What do you mean? It’s poetry. Go on, have a good laugh.”

“Why should I laugh? A song is just a poem with music attached! Got any more? Yer should get that mate o’ yours, wot’s ‘is name, Oz, to put it to music.”

William was so amazed not to have the piss taken about it that he stopped trying to get the book back. James, seeing that William had stopped protesting, carried on reading.

“Buffy, Buffy, do you know what you’re doing, doing to me?

Due to lack of interest

Tomorrow is cancelled.

Let the clocks be reset

And the pendulums held,

‘Cause there’s nothing at all

Except the space in between

Finding out what you’re called

And repeating your name.

Buffy, Buffy could it be that you’re joking with me

And you don’t really see you and me?

“Bleedin’ ‘ell mate, wish I could do this.” said James.

William looked at him carefully; he seemed sincere.

“It’s not very good,” said William dismissively.

“It’d make a great song. Just change Buffy’s name to something else ‘cause it’d be way too embarrassing to be singing it wiv ‘er name in it,” said James animatedly.

“Singing? You’re the only one who’ll even read it! There’ll be no singing, I can’t,” said William.

“Can’t? ‘Ave yer ever tried?”

“Um…no,” admitted William.

“So yer don’t know yer can’t, do yer? All the chicks love lads who are in bands, as long as it isn’t the marching band type. Yer’ll ‘ave Buffy eatin’ out of yer ‘and, especially after she calls yer up when she gets the card,” said James, “Can I ‘ave a look at yer other stuff?”

William just nodded and watched as James flicked through his notepad. Song lyrics, it had to be said, sounded a lot cooler than poetry.

“When yer meet me mates I’m gonna tell ‘em yer write songs, that I’ve got a cool song-writing cousin from America,” announced James.

William had yet to meet any of James’ friends as his parents had insisted that until term ended he just concentrate on getting to know William and getting his assignments done. School broke up in a few days time. William was a bit nervous about meeting his friends - it sounded like he had a lot - but if they were like James he’d be ok. He wished he had a friend like him back in the US, perhaps Xander or Oz might turn into real friends?

They were due to meet up with them at a party in a local club on Saturday to mark the end of term. That’s where James wanted William to try to fool his friends into thinking he was James. So William kept practicing James’ north London English accent. He tried to get James to do his Californian accent but he was rubbish at it, which William thought hilarious.

Ooooooo

The next day the boys and their mothers went to get William some contact lenses. He had his eyes tested and was told they’d be ready the next day. Whilst he was in the optician’s his mom slipped out and into the book shop next door. She was back before William was ready to leave.

Ooooooo

Soon it was Saturday. James and William were pleased that their tattoos had settled down nicely and so could be showed off if required. So far their parents hadn’t spotted them.

“Right, yer’ll ‘ave to wear a shirt that I’ve been seen in so people’ll be more likely to think yer me,” said James as he rummaged in his wardrobe and pulled out a t-shirt. It was black, sleeveless, and had ‘Kaiser Chiefs’ written across the chest in red lettering with the dates of their latest tour on the back.

“’Ere, put it on, lets ‘ave a look,” said James.

Obediently William pulled it over his head. He had the Kaiser Chiefs album on his iPod and liked their music.

“Black jeans, yer’ve got to ‘ave black jeans.”

“I’ve got some,” said William, digging into his drawer to find them.

“Great, now wot’ll make me look American?”

“Won’t matter how American you look. If you say more than ‘hi’ they’ll figure you out for sure,” joked William, “Try this.”

He passed James one of his most boring long sleeved shirts; even he didn’t like it anymore.

“No way!” said James, “I’ve never seen yer wear that.”

He looked at William’s collection of shirts and decided on the royal blue one that, unbeknownst to him, William had worn to The Bronze the day before he left for London.

“Ok, I’ll let you wear that one,” conceded William.

“Wot jackets ‘ave yer got?” asked James.

“Um…well only my denim one,” said William.

“Ok, that’ll do. God, you’re gonna look so much cooler than me,” said James.

He went back into his wardrobe and pulled out a long black leather jacket.

“I can’t wear that!” said William in horror.

“Wot do yer mean? This is the coolest coat in the world, took me ages to save up for it, but I luv it and I ‘ope yer feel proper ‘onoured to be allowed to wear it. Though it has to be said if anything ‘appens to it, I’ll ‘ave to kill yer,” joked James, putting it on and giving William a twirl. “See, tell me this ain’t the ultimate cool.”

William did think the jacket looked good but wasn’t sure he could carry it off. When he said as much to James, he laughed and said that if it looked good on him it’d have to look good on William since the whole point of all this was because they were so alike. William tried it on. It felt great; it was quite heavy, the leather so soft it swayed as he moved. Without even realising it William held himself much taller in it than he usually did. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror and it really was like James grinned back at him. Weird and cool at the same time.

“Ready?” asked James.

“Ready.” agreed William.

They walked downstairs and into the sitting room where their parents were watching TV.

“We’re off then,” said William, mimicking James’ voice.

“Have fun and remember to give me a ring if you want a lift home,” said Thomas.

“Will do, c’mon mate,” said William with a grin and they turned to leave.

“Hang on. Haven’t you got a kiss for your mothers?” said Thomas with a smile trying to embarrass the boys.

Dutifully the boys went and kissed their mothers, James kissed Jayne and William, Julia.

“What’s going on?” asked Julia, looking hard at the two boys, “Can’t remember the last time you kissed me, James, without pulling a face afterwards.”

“Uh oh, we’re rumbled.” said James, “Should’ve told yer about that.”

The boys collapsed into fits of laughter, their parents soon joined in too.

“So you’re planning on creating havoc at the party then?” said Jayne, delighted to see her son having such fun and being confident enough to play practical jokes. James was really bringing him out of his shell.

“That’s the plan,” gasped William.

The boys pulled themselves together and set off to go to the club.

Ooooooo

Buffy stomped home from yet another day helping out at the gallery. She felt like she was spending all her vacation stuck in there with her mom, she was thoroughly fed up of it. The only plus side was that her mom was actually paying her for it, albeit at slave labour rates, so she could look forward to a good day’s shopping before term started.

Her mom was away for the next couple of days on a trip to source new stock for the gallery. Paula, the second in command, had let Buffy leave at lunchtime and she was looking forward to Willow coming over to watch some ‘girly’ movies and eat lots of popcorn and ice cream.

She was nearly home when it started to rain. Soon it was really heavy and she was soaked through before she got to the house despite running since she didn’t have a jacket with her. She got the mail from the box as she passed it and held it close to her to try to keep it dry.

Once inside she put the letters on the kitchen table and ran upstairs to get changed before she left puddles everywhere. She showered, got dressed and dried her hair. She’d just finished when she heard the door open and Willow come in.

“Buffy! Are you upstairs?” she called.

“Yeah, just coming down, got soaked,” Buffy replied, rushing downstairs to greet her best friend. She had to smile, Willow was wearing a white raincoat with multi coloured spots all over it and a matching hat.

“You’re better prepared than I was,” said Buffy.

“Had them for ages, just been waiting for the chance to wear them,” replied Willow, pulling out several DVDs from their voluminous pockets. “Hope you got the popcorn and ice cream?”

“I sure do, I’ll pop it in the microwave,” said Buffy, “Did you hear that I said I’ll just pop it…”

“I heard the first time,” interrupted Willow with a smile, “I didn’t want to dignify it with a comment. So lame!”

She followed Buffy into the kitchen, whilst Buffy was getting the popcorn out of a cupboard she noticed the pile of letters on the table - they were all wet. She separated them to help them dry out and spotted a postcard of Buckingham Palace.

“Hey Buff, have you seen you’ve got a card from William?”

“I have?” said Buffy, popcorn forgotten.

“You have unless you know anyone else in London?” replied Willow. She passed Buffy the card with a grin.

Buffy turned it over eagerly, “Having a good time blah blah,” she said reading it aloud, “Oh! He says he’s sorry for leaving The Bronze without talking to me. He says he’s missing me.” She beamed at her friend, “He’s put on a telephone number!”

“See, I told you he wouldn’t believe you were dancing with Angel, or had set him up,” said Willow. Buffy had been insufferable on the subject of William since he left; hopefully this would cheer her up a bit.

“What time is it in London?” asked Buffy, looking up at the kitchen clock.

“They’re eight hours in front of us I think,” said Willow, “It’s twelve thirty here so it must be eight thirty p.m. over there.”

“That’s not too late to call, is it? Can I call now?”

“Yes, you can call now.”

“Great!” Buffy reached for the phone after looking up the international code for England. She started to press the numbers on the dial, “Oh no!” she cried.

“What?” said Willow, going over to her.

“I can’t make out the last two numbers - they’re smudged.”

“Let me look. I think it’s 58, don’t you?”

Buffy peered at them, “Yeah, that could be it.” She pressed the last two numbers on the keypad and heard the phone starting to ring.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice.

“Uh, hello, can I speak to William please?” asked Buffy.

“I’m sorry, pet, you must have the wrong number, there’s no William here.”

“Oh, ok, sorry,” said Buffy hanging up, “Well it’s not 58.”

So they tried 56, 68, 38, and 36, all with the same response.

When Buffy tried 53 at the end, when she asked for William, she was told to wait a moment. Her heart was racing as she waited for him to pick up the receiver. Her heart sank when the voice wasn’t the William she wanted but an elderly Englishman. She hung up dejectedly.

“It’s hopeless, Willow, there are too many combinations that it could be. I’m not even convinced that the third to the last digit is a nine either, it could be a seven. I’m jinxed! I’m never going to get to be with William at this rate.”

“On the bright side, it’s only five weeks until he’ll be back,” said Willow.

“That’s ages!” said Buffy, “Where’s the ice cream? I need ice cream!”

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