Return of the Sun - 20. Chapter 20

There was something wrong with being up early on a Saturday morning. Gran, it seemed, was always up at the crack of dawn busying herself with laundry or a whole host of other chores she seemed to always find to keep her occupied. That morning it was the vacuuming.

Scott was sure she took delight in ensuring he didn't get to lie in; the roaring vacuum drew closer to his room and he grudgingly opened an eye. He'd had a late night the night before, out with Serena. Luke had been working late so they hadn't had a chance to see each other. Time was a rare commodity between Luke's awkward hours and Scott's steadier yet inflexible schedule at the home.

He sat upright reluctantly and swung his feet out of bed, stumbling out of his room and crossing the landing to the bathroom, stepping around Gran's vacuum that threatened the trip him if he wasn't careful. Gran gave him a bemused look as he sleepily stumbled into the bathroom.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said cheerfully, a voice that was entirely too happy for that early on a Saturday morning. And he grunted out a reply as he shut the door and ran the shower, relieved for the fresh water that helped him return to some semblance of consciousness.

He was towelling off his head when the doorbell rang, and he poked his head out of the bathroom to hear Gran greeting Dickie and insisting he have some breakfast. Scott grimaced at the thought of a heavy English breakfast, but the smell of fresh coffee wafting through the house definitely warmed him to the idea.

He tugged on a pair of jeans and a football shirt he had found in amongst the latest additions to his wardrobe his gran had made. He figured why not; it was comfortable and wasn't going to draw too much attention while he was bumming around Eastbourne with Dickie.

Suitably armed with a cup of coffee, he nodded to Gran as Dickie looked up from a large breakfast that looked suspiciously like it had been prepared for Scott. Gran was already working on a second plate as she merrily set sausages to sizzle in the pan.

"Morning," he murmured, sipping the coffee happily as he took his customary seat at the breakfast bar, yawning for the umpteenth time that morning. He wondered if he could get away with just giving Dickie the keys, stumbling back upstairs and curling up under his covers again, but one look at Gran told him that would not be a possibility.

Curses; foiled again.

"So what are you two lads up to today?" she inquired, cracking a couple of eggs.

Scott blinked and looked over at Dickie, "Yeah, what are we doing?"

Dickie beamed, "I have a couple of errands to run, a few things to pick up. It's Mum's birthday in a few weeks and I wanted to pick up something special."

"Is it?" Gran asked in surprise. "I thought it was later in the year; I'll have to make sure to pick something up for her, then."

Scott's brow furrowed--Gran didn't forget birthdays--and he shot her a worried look. She missed it as she buttered the toast and brought the plate over to him. He sighed as he set about working on his breakfast.

"Is your brother Joel stopping by today to do the garden?" Gran asked, already washing the pans.

Dickie nodded between bites, "He should be here at ten; Mum turfed him out of bed at the same time as me this morning."

"That's good; teenagers do like to laze about, don't they?" She threw Scott a look that said she knew exactly how badly he wanted to be back in his bed.

Dickie chuckled, "We all do it, Mrs. Walker; I'm just glad Scott offered to ferry me about today."

Scott grumbled into his coffee mug.

"Stop that," Gran admonished him before turning to Dickie. "His granddad used to do that," she explained, "grumble so low as you didn't hear him. I knew exactly what he was saying, though."

"I was just saying what a beautiful day it was outside," Scott responded innocently.

"Well, just remember not to be too late home tonight; your Uncle Nigel is coming today and I'm sure he wants to see how you've grown."

Scott smiled, he'd forgotten all about that. Too many things going on with Luke and with work it had just slipped his mind. It would be great to finally have a drink with Nigel, see how he'd changed, and more importantly what he thought about his nephew all grown up.

* * *

Scott absently looked at his watch, sitting in the small café in the middle of the Arndale Centre with a very cold mug of coffee in front of him. Dickie had ducked off to do his errands and had insisted that he wouldn't be long. That had been nearly three hours ago, and Scott's well of patience was running dry. There were better things he could be doing rather than sitting watching the ebb and flow of shoppers around him going about their ritualistic Saturday shopping trips.

The café was situated in the middle of a square bank of shops. In North America it would have been called a food court, except for the fact there was only the one café and the décor was a lot more upscale.

He was bored senseless, and contemplating going home; Dickie could ride a bus like everyone else for all he cared. Least he could have done was stopped back to let Scott know what was happening.

"Scott!" Serena bellowed coming out of the big Boots Pharmacy and waving to him. He started, a touch surprised, but then he rationalized Serena always shopped on a Saturday at the Arndale Centre and the mall really wasn't that big so when he thought on it the chances of running into her that afternoon were pretty good.

He set his coffee cup down and waved her over, and she bounded across to him, grinning a big toothy grin. "I knew you were a closet style-queen," she said, sitting down across from him and beaming at him.

He shook his head, "Not really, I'm waiting for Dickie..."

"Really?" she looked confused. "He's up at the Gildridge pub with a bunch of his friends. I saw them when I was parking the car at the station."

Scott didn't look impressed, "I see."

"Yeah, he's got quite a group with him in there," Serena said, not noticing Scott's annoyed look, "it's quite the get-together."

Scott sighed as he got up, "Well, in that case I should just go home then..."

"No," she said reaching out to catch his arm. "You can come with me, I'm getting my hair done and there's still plenty of shopping time." She looked at his hair disparagingly, "And if you want I could ask Tasmin if she can fit you in."

He instinctively reached up to his hair which he had to admit was getting a bit long. And it wasn't as if he had anything better to do at that moment so he nodded, "Sure..."

"That's the spirit!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "Do you trust me?" she asked as they walked out onto Eastbourne's shopping precinct.

"Why do I get cold chills whenever you say that?" he commented dryly as they walked into the stylists.

"Because you love me," she replied with another grin. "Hi Tasmin," she said addressing the beautiful woman behind the counter. "I have an appointment, but I was wondering if you could fit my best mate Scott in as well?"

Tasmin gave him a big smile as her eyes swept over him appreciatively, "Oh he's fit Serena; that your new bit of fluff?"

"Fluff?" Scott asked, looking confused.

"Oh, and he has an accent too. I love a man with an accent," she said, taking him by the arm and guiding him into a chair, taking the time to wrap him in the stylist cape to protect his clothes from falling hair. "Cor, Serena, you got quite a catch here," Tasmin said, running her hands through his hair.

"He's not my boyfriend, Taz," Serena said as Tasmin's assistant began to wash her long hair in the sink.

"Oh, single too." She picked up a spray bottle and began to damp down his hair. "How would you like this cut, then?" she asked, scrubbing the water in.

Scott made to open his mouth but Serena cut him off, "He needs something like that." Serena nodded to a picture up on the wall that was just out of Scott's ability to see it; he tried to turn his head, but Tasmin had a firm grip on his head holding him still.

"Alright love, I'm going to have to give him highlights..."

Scott blinked. His head was being hijacked by two women, and as he attempted to protest he was laughed at. So he sat with a scowl deepening on his face as he felt the scissors clipping away, Tasmin and Serena happily chatting away about the latest gossip. He wondered darkly how much she was paying attention to the job on hand.

"Oh, you're going to look good for all the girls..." Tasmin said as she used the buzz clippers to straighten out his side burns.

Serena chuckled at that and Tasmin looked at her then down at Scott, "...or boy's, then."

"Well the jury's still out on that one," Serena giggled. "He says he's gay, but he has yet to prove it."

"I don't tell you everything," Scott fired back and Tasmin began to apply the highlight cream, wrapping parts of his hair in tinfoil.

"Oh?" Serena asked sitting upright. "You're keeping something from me?"

Scott grimaced. He'd actually tried to tell her the night before at the pub, but with so many other people about it had been hard to actually get her alone long enough to say something. He looked away from her and at his reflection in the mirror wondering what he was going to look like after this ordeal was over, both physically and in Serena's eyes.

Serena caught the look in his eyes and she suddenly grew a toothy grin. "You've been hiding a man haven't you!" she said with certainty. "What's his name... it's not that Ben from work, is it?"

Scott shook his head. "No, it's not Ben," he replied.

"But I am right, it is a feller... go on, what's his name?" She pried eagerly.

He sighed loudly, "If I tell you it's got to stay between us, okay?" he asked giving her a meaningful look.

Serena glanced at Tasmin. "We won't tell a soul," she said, crossing her heart.

"Me either," chimed in Tasmin who mimicked the gesture.

Scott looked up at her in trepidation; stylists were notoriously bad at keeping juicy gossip to themselves. Tasmin pouted a little as she went through to the back to make a cup of tea, waiting for the peroxide to do its magic on Scott's hair.

When she had gone, Serena leaned in, "Go on then, who is it?"

Scott looked at her and mouthed "Luke." She frowned at him and he whispered it.

"Luke who?" she asked a little loudly.

He gave her a look that said she knew he only knew one Luke. She frowned, then her eyes went wide as she clued in. "No..." she breathed, hand covering her mouth.

He nodded, as Tasmin returned with a cup of tea for each of them.

"But..." Serena was about to say his name, thought better of it and tried again, "but he's an arsehole!"

"He's a good kisser," Scott replied with a shrug.

"But..." Serena was awestruck, "how did you... the trip!" she exclaimed. "You two weren't stuck after all..."

"We were," Scott admitted. "It sort of gave us a chance to talk."

She shook her head in wonder, "So that's why..."

"Yep." Scott nodded.

Serena screwed up her nose, "Did you two... you know...?"

"You did," Scott replied, reminding her that he wasn't the only one to go on a camping adventure that weekend with an Allston boy.

"But..." she chose her words carefully again, "him of all people?" she tsked. "You two have been carrying on behind my back all this time; I'm hurt, Scott Walker!"

"It's only been a week," Scott shot back, "and it's not like I exactly had a chance to tell you, now is it?"

Tasmin was keeping very quiet listening to them as she began to pick the tinfoil out of his hair. And Scott was reminded that he really had no idea what they were both doing to him. It was like being on one of those make-over shows where they did atrocious things to you in the name of fashion, at the end of it sending you back to your dreary life looking like a million dollars.

Serena shook her head, "Him though... that's just wrong and you know it. His mum's going to hit the roof if she finds out."

"Then she'd better not find out," Scott said deliberately, as Tasmin turned him back to the mirror so that he could get a look.

He was shocked. The style was very English, cropped close at the sides with a long fringe, the blond highlights giving a lighter expression to his face. He felt he looked like Robbie Carlyle, though in reality he probably looked nothing like him. It was the first thing he thought when he saw the style. Combined with the football jersey there was no mistaking him for an American.

"Wow..." he said, blinking and tapping a lock of fine hair that had fallen across his forehead.

"It looks great!" Serena said with a smile, her hair still firmly setting into its perm. "Just need to get your ear pierced and you're all set...."

"What?" he looked frightened, his hand reaching up to his earlobe.

"Your ear pierced," she said resolutely. "Come on, it'll look good..."

"Says who?" Scott stated, getting up to pay Tasmin.

"She's right, love," Tasmin agreed. "You should get it done."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "That's okay..."

* * *

He fingered his tender earlobe, wondering what on earth had possessed him to let her talk him into that? But when Serena was on a mission to get what she wanted there had been no stopping her. Apparently he had owed it to her for not telling her earlier about Luke.

He snorted as he slung the Rover into its usual spot across the road from Gran's house, tucking it behind an unfamiliar white Citroen with a large dog staring back at him. He blinked at it, as it in turn blinked back at him before it went nuts in the back seat, barking like crazy.

He climbed down and slammed the door, stopping to slam it again; he'd have to get that fixed eventually. He hadn't bothered to go find Dickie; he was probably still at the Gildridge with his friends whiling away the day in the bottom of a pint glass. Scott was still upset at that, he wasn't Dickie's chauffer service.

He crossed the road, nodding to old man Roberts who was clipping his hedge. Mister Roberts gave him his customary turtle-esque look before waving at him. "I hear from old Zulee things are going well over at the home."

Scott smiled, "Yes they are, thank you Mister Roberts; I really appreciate the help."

Mister Roberts waved off the thanks, "The fact that you are doing well is thanks enough, my boy."

Scott smiled to himself as he walked in the back door, and drew up short as the two people sitting around the kitchen table stopped to look up at him.

There was no mistaking Uncle Nigel, even though his hair was turning grey at the temples and there were definite lines around his eyes. He had his distinctive Walker dopy grin on his face as he got up and clasped Scott's hand firmly, pumping it up and down.

"Scott!" he said warmly, still pumping the hand, and giving him the once over. "You've grown up then, haven't you."

Scott smiled, "I tried to stop."

"I can see that," Nigel said, stepping back and shaking his head. "God do you ever look like your father." He squinted at the earring, and grinned, "And Mum's going to just love that..."

"Mum's going to love what?" Gran said, returning to the kitchen. She stopped and examined Scott's hair, "Yes it's very nice dear, suits you..." she paused when she saw the earring. "Now what did you go and do that for?" she said with a disapproving look.

"Serena," Scott replied with a grin. "I owed her one."

"Do I even want to ask?" Nigel stated with a knowing look. "Anyway, you remember your Aunt Debbie?" He turned and Debbie stood up to shake his hand, still looking as beautiful as ever. She affixed him with her dark eyes and gave him a hug.

"Well, we were just on our way out," Nigel said, motioning to the door. "We're going over to say hello to Debbie's mum and dad; you'll probably be welcome as well..."

Scott shook his head, "No, that's okay, I'll be in the way. Besides I'll catch up with you later tonight."

Gran was already putting on her coat. Gran and Debbie's mother were old bingo friends, and in fact they had been the ones to conspire to get Nigel and Debbie together in the first place. She smiled at Scott, "Well, there's a macaroni and cheese dinner in the freezer if you feel like eating; we shouldn't be too late."

Scott shrugged, "Thanks, you guys have fun."