A door opens. A door closes. A rustling noise, a soft tap, two quiet thumps, and then slow, careful footsteps begin to progress across the floor, trying to navigate in the dark…
Click!
Gerard raises an eyebrow from the armchair as he looks up at Melanie, whose expression is akin to a rabbit face to face with an oncoming lorry. “And just what time do you call this?”
It’s a couple weeks past the summer solstice, so the days are starting to get a bit shorter, but not by much; sunset is still after nine o’clock at night and it never really gets fully dark, not by astronomical standards—even at the darkest part of the night, there’s still just enough sunlight kicking back to interfere with true darkness. And this is well beyond the darkest part of the night. The only reason for it being dark in here is that the thick, heavy curtains are drawn over windows that face the wrong direction to pick up the outside light before closer to midday, not that there are many of them to begin with. It doesn’t normally matter much, either, since once Lily has gone to bed the communal spaces tend to shut down. Lily does not tolerate her sleep being disturbed, and never has, and Martin in particular frequently comes in for it if she is.
Which is probably why Melanie was trying to be quiet, but Gerard isn’t having it.
“Half-eleven?” Melanie hazards. To her credit, she keeps her voice to a whisper.
“Try again.” Gerard gestures emphatically to the fussy, elaborate mantle clock that was someone’s wedding present to Roger and Lily thirteen years ago. He wound it earlier, as part of setting the stage for this, and it ticks away with a crisp precision that underscores the moment. The hands are almost on top of each other about a third of the way around the face.
Melanie stares at it, then shoots Gerard a defiant look that doesn’t entirely hide the sudden flash of fear in her eyes. “So what?”
Ordinarily, Gerard wouldn’t bat an eye at it. Hell, it’s not like he never spent all night out roaming places when he was a teenager, and he’s certainly encouraged—or enabled, depends on how you look at it—Melanie and Martin on more than one occasion. There are some experiences that are better late at night or early in the morning, especially out in the country or in a foreign place, and they can take care of themselves fairly well for their age. But this…this is different.
“So you said you’d be back by full dark,” Gerard reminds her, getting to his feet.
“We lost track of time.”
“By six hours, Melanie?”
“We were busy!”
“Oh, God.” Gerard covers his eyes with his hand. “I did not need to know that.”
“No, not…” Melanie squirms uncomfortably. “No, it’s not…anything like that. We were just…” She flaps the hand not holding her shoes helplessly. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
Gerard just gives her a pointed look. Melanie sighs and slumps. “At least let me have a cup of tea or something if you’re going to lecture me.”
They turn off the living room light, just as a precaution, and move into the kitchen; still, Gerard waits until the door is shut to switch the light on. Immediately, he turns to study Melanie. She looks…tired is the only word for it. Drawn. Her hair is disheveled, her makeup smudged, and there is what looks like either a bruise or a bite mark peeking out from the collar of her shirt. It’s not hard to guess what she’s been doing, despite her protests.
“You know,” he sighs, reaching for the electric kettle to fill it, “at this point you might as well have just spent the rest of the night and come back after breakfast.”
Melanie drops into one of the chairs and folds her arms on the table. “I didn’t want Martin to know I was late.”
“Too bad,” says a voice from behind them, and Gerard almost drops the kettle.
Melanie lets her head bang against the table. “Fuck.”
Martin crosses his arms over his chest. It would probably be more intimidating if he wasn’t wearing nothing but a pair of threadbare pale blue sleep pants with dancing cows printed on them, but it’s enough to convey his obvious worry and upset. “Where. Have. You. Been?”
Gerard busies himself pulling down the tea while the two of them try to stare each other down. He’s probably just as worried as Martin, if not more so, but he’s going to let Martin get first dibs on that lecture Melanie’s expecting.
It’s not that there’s a problem with her dating. She’s been dating pretty steadily since she turned fourteen, which isn’t much of a surprise; she’s come a long way from the kid everyone thought was too annoying to spend time with. Martin’s gone on his share of dates, too, although he rarely seems to make it past a second date at best. (Gerard doesn’t date exactly, but he’ll occasionally share a bed with someone, though not often, and he rarely stays overnight.) And since she’s starting university in the fall, it’s not like this is a relationship that’s going anywhere…probably. At the very least, if it’s someone who’s not good for her, it’ll be easier to put some distance between them.
No, the issue is that Melanie was supposed to be in by ten, and here it is nearly half past four.
“Look,” Melanie says finally, and there’s an edge to her voice that says she wants to be angry but is aware that she’s in the wrong here, which is probably only making her angrier. “Nothing happened. The film was sold out and we had to get a later showing, and when that was done we stopped to get dessert. And by then the Tube had stopped running, and Jules obviously didn’t want me walking all that way on my own, so we went to her place, it was closer. And then we just…we lost track of time.”
Martin closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Melanie.”
“It’s not like that!” Melanie insists, her face turning bright red. “God, what is with you two? We didn’t—ugh, boys. Always so quick to—”
“Maybe if you weren’t being so cagey about what you were doing that you lost track of time, we wouldn’t assume you were avoiding saying we had sex,” Gerard says over his shoulder. The kettle clicks off, and he starts filling the mugs.
“God.” Melanie buries her face in her hands again. “We were talking mostly. Played a little poker. And…I kept having to tell her I didn’t want a drink.”
“Teenagers,” Gerard mutters, as if he’s not barely twenty himself.
There’s a surprisingly long silence behind him, and then Martin says, in a low, dangerous voice, “Melanie.”
Gerard whirls around to see Melanie push away from the table and stand up, hands balled into fists, as she lets her anger loose at Martin. “Shut up. Shut up. She’s perfectly nice, there’s nothing wrong with—we didn’t do anything and I wouldn’t let her pressure me into doing anything I wasn’t ready for. It’s just a fucking date. For God’s sake, for her it’s an experiment, she’s never dated a woman before. And she knows I’m going to uni in the fall, so it’s not like we’re going to have anything long term, it’s just for fun. You don’t get to judge me for who I choose to date!”
“Keep your voice down, for God’s sake,” Martin hisses. “If Mum wakes up she’s going to come in here and skin all three of us.”
Melanie grits her teeth and ratchets down her volume with visible effort. “If I’m smart enough not to…do anything, what does it matter that she’s five years older than me?”
“It doesn’t,” Martin says, which seems to take the wind out of Melanie’s sails. It’s also a surprise to Gerard, who was fully preparing to let Melanie have it about dating adults. “You’re practically an adult, we’ve both…you’re mature enough to handle yourself, so I’m not worried about you. I didn’t even think you were…doing anything like that, I know you better. I’m just…you promised you’d be home by ten. And since you gave us so few details about this…Jules person, I was just assuming she was still living with her parents and that if you were running late they’d call to let Dad know. And then…and then you didn’t. I’ve been worried sick, Neens. I thought something had happened to you between the cinema and home and there was nobody around to tell what happened.”
Melanie stares at him for a long second, then lunges around the table and hugs him tightly. He hugs her back just as hard. Gerard abandons the tea and comes over to hug both of them.
“I’m sorry,” Melanie says, and she sounds sincere. “I—I know I should have called when I got to her place to let you know I’d be late, but honestly, I was afraid you’d turn up to get me and I’d have to introduce you. Or worse, I was afraid I’d get Lily and get an earful. I just…it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“We’ve had this talk.” Martin sighs heavily, then pulls back and touches the bruised skin over her collarbone, making her wince. “Also, if you’re going to lie, maybe cover up the hickeys first?”
Melanie flushes and covers the spot with her hand. Gerard shoos them both to the table and fetches the tea. “He’s right, you know. That’s awfully low down for we didn’t do anything. And I say that as someone who’s come home with a bite mark on my ass.”
“Okay, I did not need that mental image, thank you,” Martin mutters.
Melanie keeps rubbing at the mark like she can wipe it off her skin. Gerard watches her for a moment, then adds softly, “Neenie, is that why you didn’t spend the night?”
She looks away, jaw clenched, but Gerard’s seen the glint of tears in her eyes. “Yes,” she says tightly. “It’s not…I wasn’t lying, I didn’t let her pressure me into anything. She stopped when I asked her to, but she was really pushing the drinks and I was starting to think maybe she was trying to get me to the point I’d be more…agreeable. I also, um, I don’t think she realized I wasn’t eighteen yet. She passed out eventually and…I just left.”
“Did you walk?” Martin asks, sounding horrified. “In the dark? In this part of town?”
“I wasn’t going to risk her waking up and pushing harder, so yeah, it seemed like the safer option.”
“The sad part is you probably aren’t wrong.” Gerard sighs. “Are you okay, though? Physically, anyway?”
Melanie nods. “Yeah, just…I’m fine. And I’m not planning on going out with her again, which I feel bad about, but…from what she was saying, her relationships usually fall apart pretty quickly anyway, so maybe it’s better if we don’t let it get that far, you know?”
Martin takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for yelling.”
“You don’t—I accept your apology,” Melanie says. “And I really am sorry for not calling.”
“I accept your apology, and I forgive you. Just…don’t do it again, yeah?” Martin tries and fails to smile. “Next time you’re going to be later than you expect—don’t care if it’s a date or a job or whatever, just…if you give me a time frame and you’re not going to keep it, call and let me know. I promise I won’t ask what’s keeping you. Just a little warning, you know?”
“I know. And I will,” Melanie promises. “I’ll call one of you, at least.” She pauses to take a slow sip of her tea. “Um…what did Dad say?”
Martin winces. Gerard decides to fall on his sword and answer that one. “I don’t think he noticed, actually. Or not—he was asking us for ideas to surprise you because your sixteenth birthday was coming up, so I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t expecting you home. And Lily had one of her spells and went to bed early.”
Melanie sighs. “He’s getting worse, isn’t he? Be straight with me.”
“Don’t think that it’s possible for any of us to be straight,” Gerard says, eliciting giggles out of both of them. “But no, I think he’s holding pretty steady these days. Maybe he can’t remember what year it is, but he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself still. I think he’ll be all right for a few years yet.”
“Dr. Keay has spoken.” Martin salutes him with his mug.
“Shut up, I’m just saying—”
“I don’t disagree with you, Gerry. I’m just teasing you.”
Melanie smiles, and then yawns. “Okay. I’m going to try and get a couple hours of sleep and then figure out how to lie to Dad about how my date went. You guys won’t tell him how late I got in, will you?”
“Your secret’s safe with us,” Gerard promises. “Right, Martin?”
Martin nods. “You got home safe. That’s all that matters. No sense in making him worry after the fact.”
“Thanks.” Melanie downs the rest of her tea and gets up.
Gerard takes Martin’s empty mug as well. “Tell you what, you go back to bed too. I’ll stick around and give Aunt Lily her morning meds so you can sleep in a bit, how’s that?”
The relief and gratitude in Martin’s eyes is almost palpable. “You’re the best, Ger.”
Gerard hugs both his younger siblings and sends them off to bed, and then turns his attention to washing out the tea mugs. As he does so, he considers the conversation they just had.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust Melanie. He does. And Martin’s right, both of them are near enough to adults—and have had adult responsibilities for long enough—that they’re capable of handling themselves. But he worries about them, and perhaps Melanie more than Martin. While she’s quick to anger and fight anything that looks at her sideways, she’s also curiously vulnerable at times. She’s not as desperate to be liked as she used to be, and she’s a bit more choosy with her friends, but she’s also the most likely of the three of them to trust someone at their word. All it would take is one person saying we’re all friends here who wasn’t and they might lose her.
So yeah, he’s going to be keeping a close eye out, and if he thinks for a second she’s going to try seeing this Jules person again, he’ll put the brakes on that so quick there will be skid marks. But…he can’t protect her all the time, from everything.
Maybe it’s time to start doing protective charms against things that aren’t the Fourteen, too. It’s easy to forget that plain, ordinary people can hurt them just as badly as the Fears.
He rubs the tattoos on his knuckles and decides to look through the books at the shop this afternoon to see if there’s anything in there that might be helpful.