Return of the Sun - 10. Chapter 10

Of all the things that could go wrong, Scott had been feeling particularly stubborn that day, deliberately ignoring all the pressed shirts and trousers, picking out a stylish pair of white cargos, a tee-shirt he had used to wear when he had whiled away last summer skating. And of course his prized visor cap.

It let his black hair poke out of the top, a little bit of hair wax and the spikes stood out at odd angles. Gran had taken one look at him that morning and had sniffed something about his looking like he'd stuck his fingers into a electrical plug hole.

He had ignored her, grinning as he downed a glass of orange juice and grabbed couple of slices of toast before he was out the door. He didn't particularly care what he was going to be doing that day, but he knew it was too warm to stay in the house he just had too much energy, and since he had to pop into town for a Friday Ad anyway, he figured there was no harm no foul.

"You look like a pineapple." Serena grinned as she bagged a customer's purchases, smiling at her politely, "there we go love, and your receipt." She turned finally to give him her full attention, "I thought we were breaking you of your bad habits."

He shook his head, "no way, I'm comfortable. So what time is your lunch?"

She glanced at the clock;"I can go in a couple of hours if you want to come back."

He grinned at her, "Cool, lunch then somewhere good."

She screwed up her nose, "Not down the pub, Mrs. Kerrigan gets right snarky if I take a liquid lunch."

He rolled his eyes, only in England would people automatically assume lunch meant a trip down the pub. He picked up a copy of the magazine he had travelled down town for and rolled it up, "Well see you at noon."

"Okay," she said cheerfully as he wandered back out onto the high street.

Hailsham high street was its usual busy self. The stationery shop was tucked down along one end towards the old school; a tiny brick building that had once upon a time been a schoolhouse. Yeah, back when dinosaurs had walked the earth.

The sun was climbing that morning and warming the whole town, it was going to be another scorching hot day, the kind of day for beer gardens and pools. Scott was certain that if he imported Air Conditioners for days like this, he would make a mint. As it was he just wanted to bum around town, maybe walk into Woolworths and look at their CD's. Kill the morning until his lunch with Serena.

He was actually looking forward to the time he spent with her. Ever since Brighton he had grown closer to the friendly, if a bit crass British lass. For a girl she had tonnes of self-confidence, the kind of girl that had grown up on Spice Girl power, even though she would never have admitted it. She was there, and she didn't give a toss what anyone else thought about her. And with those looks, she got away with it.

Woolworth's was much like Wall-mart, a store with a little bit of everything. Up near the front it had a wall of the latest music, not exactly as broad a collection as the virgin mega stores had, but it was still a decent selection. Even if most of the North American stuff was a few months behind, there was a whole rack of British music he had never heard of.

Slipping on a set of headphones he began to sample some of it, people wanted him to blend in, immerse himself in his culture. Well sure, he would do that in his own way, starting with some decent club music.

He had made it about five CD's into the rack when he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder and he glanced behind him at Travis. He grinned in pleasure at seeing a friendly face and slipped the headphones off, hanging them back on the hook.

"Hey Dude!" Scott said cheerfully, "What's up?"

Travis pointed vaguely into the store, "Oh I was just out with Mia, we're celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Scott asked curiously trying to spot Travis's girlfriend in the aisles, so far there were simply too many forty-year-old women about.

"I got a job," Travis said proudly, he was wearing an odd shirt that would have looked right on a peasant in a medieval castle, laces instead of buttons and puffy sleeves. He reminded Scott of a slightly podgy Errol Flynn, all he needed was a rapier and a chandelier to swing from and the image would be complete.

"That's great!" Scott exclaimed enthusiastically, "Where are you working?"

"The funeral home."

Somehow, in a sick kind of way, Scott had known he was going to say that. But he was struggling to find the right words of... praise, to express his... well... it was work. "Wow," he tried to sound awed, but it came out sounding strangled.

Travis didn't notice, he just grinned, "I am going to become an undertaker."

Scott's mind flashed to a particular character from a wrestling show he had watched in the states, and the image just didn't match Travis at all. Tall, dark and terrifying was kind of the exact opposite to the foppish looking man standing in front of him. "That's great." Scott said finding his voice, "So Mia's here is she?" hopefully a change of topic was in order, move on to something safe, less absurd.

How wrong he was.

"That's her." Travis said pointing to a bespectacled woman sweeping through the store.

Scott's jaw just fell open.

She glided through the aisles, her black velvet skirts falling about her in waves that rippled as she moved. Silver jewellery clattering against her, shining with intricate Celtic designs that looked painstakingly hand made. It would have been tasteful, if it had been used in moderation. She pulled a black shawl closer about her shoulders as she moved with regal purpose past the dumbstruck patron's of the store who just turned to follow her with gaping mouths. All she needed was a pointed hat and a broomstick. It was just ironic that she happened to be walking down an aisle filled with vacuum cleaners.

It took a sheer force of will to close his mouth, turning to Travis and hoping against hope that he wasn't serious. But one look at the happiness in Travis's eyes, and the laces on his puffy sleeved shirt, Scott had that sinking feeling again.

"Well," he said, "she looks... nice."

Travis grinned and bobbed his head, "She's gorgeous isn't she." He stared at her like a lovesick puppy craving attention, and she treated him like one.

She handed him her shopping basket to hold and affixed Scott with a regal look, sweeping from his sneakers up to the spiky hair and back down again. Skateboard chic meets Gothic vogue. He slouched a bit, and tried desperately to hide the fact that he found her appearance hilarious.

"Mia, this is my friend Scott, Scott this is Mia..." Travis began the introductions.

She extended a hand, a long and slow gesture the back of her hand upwards as if she expected him to bow and kiss it. He did exactly what he father had shown him to do in such circumstances, he clasped it firmly and shook it up and down in the age old used car salesman routine. "Nice to finally meet you, ma'am." He said politely.

Her eyes narrowed a little at being called Ma'am by someone the same age as her boyfriend, but Scott gave her his best charming grin. The old, I'm a kid, love me look that seemed to always work on old women... older...oh damn...

* * *

"So what did she do next?" Serena asked poking her salad dubiously with her fork. Scott could tell she didn't want to eat it, she kept eyeing his Shepard's pie with ravenous eyes, but she was on another 'diet' and couldn't possibly eat anything with so many Carbohydrates.

Scott pushed his plate till it sat between them and reached over to spear one of her lettuce leaves with his fork. She hesitated a minute, before she attacked the Shepard's pie with reckless abandon, so much for the Aitkin's diet.

"Well she insisted that Travis take her to the antiques store, you know the one, tucked into the old stables across from the market?"

"Yeah," Serena nodded around a mouthful of potatoes, "They have some nice jewellery in there."

"Yeah well, I haven't seen Travis since that day we were all in Eastbourne, so I decided to tag along." He liberated another leaf from her plate. It was odd, he had ordered the pie, and she the salad, but they were more interested in the other person's lunch than their own.

"Oh I bet she liked that," Serena said sarcastically, "I think I've seen her, she looks like an owl."

"Yeah," Scott replied, "so any way's we're in the antiques store and she starts going on about all the mystic energy she feels in the room."

"The what?" Serena asked sceptically.

"Mystic energy, she was talking about all the antiques and the stories they were trying to tell her. Apparently she had a great conversation with a mirror..."

"Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the strangest of us all..." Serena giggled, she shook her head, curls as usual bouncing to and fro, "She sounds a right nutter. And you say she's forty?"

"Forty two." Scott replied, "Travis is all over her, she just has to crook her finger and he comes running. I just don't get it..."

Serena rolled her eyes, "You really are a mo aren't you. Have you never been whipped by a guy?"

"I'm sure I'd remember," Scott replied with a grin.

"Not that kind of whipped," she said disparagingly, "Honestly, you're right dirty some times."

He bowed his head, "I learned from the best."

She gave him a big smile. The small restaurant was more of a diner without the large counter and the over worked waitresses, it served an odd assortment of low prices food. Cornish pasties, sausage rolls right up to what looked like school cafeteria stew. Why they had come there Scott couldn't fathom, but Serena had made the choice, probably because it was just a few doors down from her shop.

"My mom sold our old bathroom suite to that shop, I hope she wasn't communing with that..." Serena mused idly.

"Well she did mention something about this mole on your..."

Serena flashed him a gleeful look, "I could show you if you want."

"I'll pass," Scott said turning up his nose at the thought, "Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for the other Friday night."

"You had fun then?" Serena asked with a grin.

"I don't remember much, but I woke up the next morning with a hangover." He chuckled one hand holding the coffee cup in his fingers gesturing with it, "Gran had fun that morning, she decided to make pancakes and banged everything together she could get her hands on." He winced at the memory, "yeah I think she took delight in it."

He stopped and looked thoughtfully at her, "Was it just me, or was Dickie not enjoying himself?" he asked abruptly.

"Yeah, he kept wanting to bag," she replied, "don't worry about it babe, Dickie just likes to be the centre of attention, he likes to think he's the dog's bollocks, when he isn't he sulks."

"Ah," Scott replied, "Well so long as it wasn't anything serious."

She smiled at him, "Dickies a good mate, he likes you a lot."

"Yeah, we got to talk at the arcade, what's up with him and Fleur?" Scott tapped his visor cap, re-tucking his hair under it.

"Your ear's really stick out when you do that," Serena observed with a grin, making it clear that it wasn't a bad thing, he was getting used to her constant flirting, "He got her pregnant at University," she shrugged, "she wasn't even supposed to be seeing him any more they broke up, he started dating this other girl then next thing you know he's back here with Fleur and turns out they've been shagging the entire time."

"Oh, right..." Scott said, getting entirely too much of a mental image that time.

She rolled her eyes at his expression, "Oh give over, you wanted to know. But the funny thing is, no one's said anything about it, Dickie still goes out skunting every chance he gets..."

"Skunting?" Scott asked, "Do I want to know?"

"Skank hunting," she replied simply, "Fleur knows what's going on, but she doesn't do anything about it..."

"One of those," Scott replied knowingly.

"Yeah," Serena glanced down at the Shepard's pie that was no suitably demolished, "Sorry," she said seeming concerned that she had polished it off.

"No worries," Scott replied making to get up, "I should be getting home anyway, Gran's got to be wondering where I got to."

Serena got up as well, "Yeah no worries, we'll go for a pint later."

"Sure," he replied.

* * *

He came dashing back into the house entirely too enthusiastically, slapping the Friday Ad down onto the counter and turning to look for his Gran.

The small man sitting at the other end of the table polishing his spectacles looked up at him. East Indian with a bright smile and a cunning expression in his eyes, "I guess this would be the lad in question Rita."

Gran was looking slightly mortified at Scott's exuberant entrance, "Well that would be my grandson, though lord alone knows where he's been all day. Scott dear, I'd like you to meet Mister Karmali."

Scott cocked his head as he caught his breath and crossed to the man, shaking his hand, looking at his Gran quizzically.

"Zulee Karmali," Mister Karmali clarified, "Your Gran was telling me that you needed a job."

Scott was suddenly painfully aware of how underdressed he was for that meeting. So much for that, Zulee would write him off as a punk kid and be done with it. "Yeah, uh you sorta caught me unprepared."

Zulee shrugged, "It's an informal meeting Scott, you need work I need someone to do some general office work. And the fact that I owe Mister Robert's a few favours we can consider a trial run, if you survive two weeks you can keep the job, fair Scott?"

Scott blinked, just like that. He nodded his head, "Uh, okay..."

"Good," and he gave Scott a quick look over, "Suit and tie as well, I don't think my resident's will... appreciate your current look."

Scott glanced at Gran, who was trying hard not to look very pleased with herself, "You have a deal Mister Karmali."