Unfamiliar Ceilings

“Leila?”

I turned around to look at my open bedroom door. Mark was standing there, looking at me. I’d just pulled The Dress on over my head and was zipping the side up properly, before going to mess about with my hair a little bit. He was looking at me like he’d never seen me properly before.

“You’re going out, then?” he asked.

I nodded my head, “Yeah, Dean said he wants to talk to you first though.”

“About what?” Mark asked.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders while I applied my second coat of mascara. Mark laughed and pulled a face before walking back out of my room and down the stairs. According to the time on my phone, I still had around ten minutes to do as I pleased. I tried to calm myself down with some deep breathing, but it really didn’t work that well. So, instead, I just sat and my window and stared idly out into the street.

I started wondering if Johnny was okay. I mean, if Anna was that bad, what would he be like? Maybe he’d talked to Dean about it or something. I’d have to wait and see. I felt a little bit guilty, but I couldn’t help but smile like a lunatic when I thought of Dean. I heard the doorbell ringing from my room and I rushed to answer it, leaving my bag on a chair near the front door.

Dean walked straight into the house, grabbing me around the waist and kissing me softly. “Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” I mumbled, breathless. He was dressed quite smartly. Well, for Dean anyway. He had on his best pair of jeans, a white button up shirt and a black blazer. He smiled wide and let go of my waist, curling his fingers loosely through mine instead. I shut the front door behind him and led him into the living room, where Mark and Stephanie were sitting watching the evening news.

“Mr. Cole,” Dean said, nodding his head politely.

“Alright, Dean,” he replied. “Call me Mark.”

“Mark.”

“I hear you wanted a word?”

Dean nodded his head and laughed quietly. I felt myself blushing and planning out his homicide for when he said something potentially embarrassing. But it wasn’t bad, he said, “I wondered if it was alright that I took your daughter out tonight.”

Mark gave Dean a puzzled look. “You take her out without my permission anyway, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean laughed.

Mark just raised his eyebrows before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Sure, go ahead. Leila, just let me know if you’re coming home or not.”

“I will,” I laughed.

“Good.” Mark sat back on the couch. “Have fun.”

“Goodnight Mark, Stephanie,” Dean said, nodding his head again at both of them. Stephanie smiled happily at the both of us and shot me a little wink when Dean wasn’t watching her.

For once she wasn’t getting her signals crossed.

****

“You going to tell me where we’re going?

“No,” he said, smiling. “It’s still a surprise.”

We were walking down a nameless street – well, it might as well have been, since I had no idea where we were – to a nameless place I’ve never been before. He kept his hand curled around mine constantly. It seemed like we were going to be walking to bloody Central London, because we’d been going for so long. Eventually, he steered us into a small park and along a path made of wood shavings.

He wanted me to dress up to go to a park?

But I was wrong. The wood-shaving path widened out towards the end, and, just visible over the treetops, was what looked like a big old manor house. It looked absolutely beautiful...and somewhere we wouldn’t get in to. I thought it was just a house, but there were people walking in and out and a valet service out front.

We entered the gorgeous building and I realised it had been converted into a restaurant. It looked expensive and really elegant. It was hard to believe he could pull all this off. Dean kissed my forehead and let go of my hand, approaching someone I assumed to be the maître'd – a burly, Russian looking woman who seemed put-off talking to Dean. After a minute or so, she grinned broadly and I knew he’d said the right thing to her.

“Come on,” he smiled, holding his hand out to me to take it again. I took his hand and let him tow me through the restaurant, filled with elegant looking people. The maître'd led us towards the back of the huge, high-ceiling room and towards a pair of sliding doors. She pushed them wide open effortlessly and stood aside to let Dean and I through. My breath hitched in my throat.

We were standing on a veranda, made entirely out of light coloured wood overlooking a huge lake. There were trees on the bank of the lake, laced with hundreds upon hundreds of fairy lights, blinking in time. A table was set in the centre of the veranda, close to the barrier between us and the lake, covered in a perfect white cloth and a small crystal vase, completed with a single red rose. Two candles burned either side of the rose and two places were set neatly at the table.

“Dean...” I said, turning to look at his smile and completely lost for words. “How-what?...How?”

He laughed and led me closer to the table, where the maître’d stood holding a chair out for me. “It’s one of my dad’s smaller investments.”

I laughed feebly and tried to keep my head. This was so wonderful and so unbelievable. The maître’d smiled kindly at me as I sat down, and waited patiently while Dean sat also. We both ordered some food – the maître’d had to translate for me, since the only thing I know in French is a song – and Dean ordered us a bottle of red wine. It all made me feel about twenty five and married.

I stared out at the lake. “This doesn’t feel real, it’s like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” he laughed and reached his hand across the table, lacing his fingers with mine again. “I just thought it’d be nice to have a proper ‘first date’.”

I caught the sarcasm in that. I felt completely out of my depth and overwhelmed. I couldn’t say anything other than ‘I can’t believe this’. I couldn’t believe Dean was capable of doing something so beautiful. The ‘first date’ thing didn’t convince me though, but it was the only explanation he offered.

“Did you not want this?” he asked, his smile faltering a little bit. “Have I made a tit of myself?”

“No. No, it’s absolutely perfect,” I said, turning back to smile at him before looking over the lake again. I mumbled, “If anything it’s the final straw.”

“Final straw?”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. I looked at him and felt my cheeks burn violently, but he just looked at me, confused. He nodded his head and urged me to tell him.

“If you must know,” I said quietly. “It’s just made me f-”

His phone rang and interrupted me. He left it for a few rings and stared at me. I don’t think he knew what I was going to say because he just went in search of his phone. It probably was an emergency; if anybody knew he was planning this they wouldn’t call.

“Hello?” he answered. There was one long pause and I saw his face change. He looked perfectly fine, then his jaw dropped and he looked so scared. I got worried, so I went over to him and put my hand on his shoulder lightly. He held up one finger, signalling he’d be done in a minute.

“Okay, I’m on my way there,” he said, slipping his phone shut and back into his pocket.

“What’s the matter?”

“M-My dad just collapsed. He’s in the hospital.”