In Another Life

“Do you have everything?”

Oh god, this coffee is so warm in my hands. I want to shrink my entire body and surround myself with this warmth. I want to curl up and go back to sleep in my nice, cozy bed and ignore the disgusting sleet that’s currently pelting down on the windshield.

“Hello?”

It would be so easy to just close my eyes, and drift off to sleep with the cool window on my temple and my coffee hot in my hand. If I could just get maybe ten more minutes of sleep, I’d be able to function again. I swear.

Although, as long as we’re not being particular with the timing of things, I could probably actually go for maybe another hour or two of sleep. I mean, not that I’m being particularly demanding, or anything.

“Bryn!”

This interjection is punctuated with a sharp tap of the brakes, and as I lurch forward, I shriek a bit in terror before I fling my free arm up in front of my face.

This is it. This is the end. I’m going to die in the passenger’s seat of this little shit car, and I’m not even wearing really cute underthings. They’re the really scaggy pair that were in the bottom of my wardrobe that I threw on because I haven’t done laundry in ages and most of my things are already packed. Think of all of the people who’re going to see me half dressed, and judge me for my lack of matching pants and bra. And then I’ll be known forever in the morgue as the one girl with the unattractive underthings.

I pause, wait a moment, and then sheepishly lower my arm and then turn to look at my best friend who’s currently glowering at me from behind the steering wheel. “Yes?”

“I swear to god,” Amanda rolls her eyes before she begins to drive again, her car whining a bit as we accelerate towards the train station. “I was trying to ask you if you had everything.”

“I think so,” I yawn into my elbow before I take a greedy gulp of my coffee. “At any rate, it’s not like I can turn back, so if I’ve forgotten it, I guess I’ll have to live without it. It’s only two weeks, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“You know we’re, like, not even ten minutes from your flat. I can still turn back and get you the station in time.”

“I know; I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” Another massive yawn interrupts me, though I make a halfhearted attempt to stifle my lethargy. “Thank you, though.”

Silence settles down upon us, and the only noise is that of the engine as Amanda drives us along the virtually empty London road. It’s strange, actually, to see the streets so vacant and without life. I’m used to hordes of people milling about Piccadilly or cluttering up Westminster.

But now, now it’s only just past five in the morning and I’m on my way to the Liverpool train station, courtesy of Amanda and her Mini Cooper. I have a train to catch at 5:23 in the morning, which will put me in Colchester at about 7. From there, Tad will pick me up and take me home where Mum is preparing to give birth to the latest addition to the Matthews family.

The plan is that I’ll keep an eye on Owi and Cadi while Mum and Tad head to hospital. Once the baby is born, I’ll take the girls up to see the new baby before I return home to hold down the fort until my parents return. As long as everything goes according to plan (although, since I’ve never given birth, I’m not too sure how great babies are at sticking to plans), Mum and Tad will be back home with the baby on Christmas Eve, and we’ll all celebrate the holiday together. The hope is that we’ll spend a nice, quiet time at home, since I’m sure that Mum won’t feel up to having any visitors, and in a way, I’m quite excited. It’ll be just like old times with all of us together again as a family.

“So how are you going to do it?” Amanda asks quietly, turning her flasher on and peeking over her right shoulder before she changes lanes. She happens to see the puzzled look on my face as she glances over at me, because she continues speaking. “Two weeks without Harry? That’s the longest you two have been apart; how’re you going to do with the separation?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I mean… I’ll be fine. There is such a thing as FaceTime, you know. It’s just two weeks.”

“But two weeks feels like forever when you’re in lo-o-o-ove,” Amanda says in a singsong voice before she neatly dodges my playful swat.

“Piss off,” I reply airily before I drain the last bit of my coffee and then place my empty coffee cup in the mug holder that’s between the both of our seats. “Just for that, I’m leaving my trash in here for you to deal with later.”

She scoffs just as we round the corner and the massive brick and steel arches of the Liverpool train station come into view. “You’re disgusting; take your trash with you.”

“I can’t,” I reply as we coast to a stop at the curb and she shifts into park. “It’s the price that you have to pay for mocking me.” I clatter my seatbelt off and then open the passenger door before I climb out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, ‘Manda. I appreciate it.”

I slam the door shut behind me before she can retort and I busy myself with walking around to the boot of the car and rapping on the glass windshield. She pops the latch for me, and I have to laugh to myself as I catch sight of her in the rearview mirror, muttering beneath her breath in an annoyed manner.

It takes me a moment to figure out just how I’m going to carry all of my things. Amanda had helped me carry everything from my flat to the car, so now I have to work out how I’m going to balance a duffle bag containing Christmas presents, a book bag containing all of my more important things (coursework, my computer and charger, my mobile charger, plus my makeup kit), a massive suitcase that holds the majority of my winter wardrobe, plus my bag and then another duffel with my shoes.

Harry had about pissed himself laughing once he realized that I had to have a separate container for my shoes. But I can’t help that I had too many shoes to pick from, and I couldn’t decide which ones to pack for my trip back home. I mean, honestly, what if I decide that I want to wear my snow boots with the faux-fur fringe outdoors in the afternoon, but then in the evening, I want to just wear trainers? To be quite honest, a girl shouldn’t have to decide between the two and so in order to eliminate the stress, I’d just packed everything.

I can already tell that unpacking is going to be absolutely horrid.

Somehow I manage to drape both duffel bag straps crisscross across my chest and then settle my book bag over my shoulders, before my purse goes over my right shoulder. This leaves me free to grapple my suitcase with both hands, which I heave up and out of the boot of Amanda’s car before I slam the lid shut and smile toothily at my friend in her rearview mirror.

“You alright then?” She laughs as she rolls the window down. When I manage a distracted nod as I attempt to wrangle my suitcase to be not so wieldy, she shakes her head. “Give me a call when you’re safe, yeah? Are you sure you don’t need help getting to the platform?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reply, waving away her words. “Happy Christmas, Amanda.”

“Happy Christmas, Bryn.”

Two hours later, I step off of the last stair on the train, and out into the frigid cold air. As soon as I can, I inhale deeply and then exhale, my breath creating a misty veil about my face, before I step forward, my bags in my grasp and my mobile clutched in my free hand.

My eyes scan the empty platform and then the street just beyond. Tad’s car is nowhere to be found. I can only imagine the chaos that is currently happening at my parents’ house, and so it’s not that big of a surprise that my father isn’t here to pick me up—despite the fact that Mum has been pinging my mobile every quarter hour checking my arrival status.

And so I shoulder my duffels and adjust my book bag before I start off to the right, away from the loading platform and towards the glass shelter and bench where I intend to wait for my father to come and pick me up. As I attempt to walk forward and juggle all of my belongings, my mobile begins to chirp cheerfully in my grasp.

Without looking at the caller ID, I swipe answer and then bring it up to my ear. “You’re late.”

“On the contrary, I’m actually quite early to my appointment, so I decided to ring you.” Harry’s cheerful voice comes down the line and I can’t contain the beaming smile that lights up my face. “But what’s this about being late? Have you made it to Colchester alright then?”

I flush prettily, though I know that my boyfriend can’t see me. “I just got off the train, actually—maybe about five minutes ago.” The snow that fell overnight crunches loudly beneath my boots, and I do my best to stifle the sound. “I certainly expected a bigger welcoming home party, that’s for sure.”

Harry laughs. “What do you mean?”

“Tad isn’t at the station,” I reply, using my shoulder to keep my mobile up to my face. I take my bag up in my now free hand as my fingers have gone all numb and tingly. “So I’m taking shelter on a bench and waiting for my ride home.”

“Have you tried calling your father?” He asks curiously, and I can very nearly picture the way his head tips to the side as he asks a question. “Are you sure he knew what time your train got in? How far do you live from the station?”

I shrug and start to deposit my bags onto the empty bench. “It’s a little over 40 kilometers, or thereabouts. It takes about 30 minutes to get here, and I doubt that Mum would let him forget what time I arrived.”

“I take it she’s been anxiously awaiting your arrival, then.” His tone is low and teasing, and I know that he’s recalling the way Mum kept lighting up my mobile the other night with her text messages. He’d laughed and laughed at my mother’s antics, and as I’d packed, he’d been my scribe and replied back to her multitude of worries and concerns.

I wonder just how badly she’d react if she realized that she was texting a prince and not me?

“You have no idea,” I reply, doing my best to regain the sense of feeling back into my fingers. “God, you also have no idea how excited I am to be home.”

“I think I have some idea,” He laughs that low, warm laugh that’s my absolute favorite. “Although you’ve left me, so I’ve not really sure how you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

“Oh, I’ll have some actual peace and quiet,” I tease, wrapping my free arm around my waist and starting to pace for lack of anything better to do with myself. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m going to miss you terribly. I wish you were here so that I could show you everything and everyone here in Colchester.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” He replies back quietly, and in the background on his end, I can hear someone talking. “But it’ll be over before you know it, and then you’ll be back with me here in London.”

I spy a grey car rounding the corner and start to slow at the curb. I squint into the brilliant sun, and I smile as I realize that my father is behind the wheel. “I can’t wait, but Tad just pulled up.”

“Good,” Harry answers. “I’m glad he didn’t forget you; I’m not so sure I’d have let you off the line if I knew you were on your own there.”

Despite how my heart flutters at his words, I do have to roll my eyes. “Harry, I grew up here. I used to terrorize these streets, believe me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Tad has seen me, and he waves at me before he shifts the car into park and climbs out. He sees that I’m on my phone, so he goes for my bags and busies himself with loading them up into the backseat. Here is where I have to do a bit of a double take. This isn’t Tad’s normal car. Has he gone and gotten a new one?

“I know that,” Harry’s voice comes back down the line, and I have to remind myself to focus on our conversation. I stop and finger the fringe on my purse as I listen. “But I’m not sure that you’re something that I’m willing to risk. Anyway,” He carries on as if he hasn’t just said the sweetest thing in the entire world. “I will let you go now that I know you’re safe.”

“Okay,” I whisper softly and hug myself tightly with my one free arm. “Can I call you later?”

“I’ll be upset if you don’t,” He admits, smiling widely. “I’ll let you go, then, Bry. Have fun, be safe.”

“I will,” I reply back automatically before I pause. “I’ll speak with you later.”

“Bye, love.” His voice comes down the line before we disconnect and I pull my phone away. The phone screen disappears off of the screen, and I stare stupidly down at the background of my phone.

It’s a picture of the two of us wrapped around each other in Harry’s bed. We’d spent nearly the entire night having sweet, slow sex, and despite the fact that neither one of us slept, we look devastatingly happy. I have wild bedhead and I’m smiling so widely for the camera from where I’m trapped in Harry’s arms that it looks a bit painful. And Harry… Harry isn’t paying the camera any mind. In fact, he’s staring down at me with a look of complete adoration.

It’s my favorite photograph in the whole entire world of the two of us. And every time I catch a glimpse of it, my heart threatens to stop in my chest because I’m so overwhelmed by the look on my Harry’s face and I know that I feel exactly the same way.

“Bee,” Tad brings me back to reality and I look up from my phone just in time to accept his hug. He squeezes me tightly and lifts me clear off of the ground before he sets me back down and gazes down at me. “I’m sorry I’m late, darling. Welcome home.”

“You’re perfectly fine,” I assure him, grinning back. “I wouldn’t have felt it to be a true welcoming home party unless you were late.”

I am, of course, referring to the fact that Tad is nearly always late to everything. He swears up and down that he’s a punctual man, that he wasn’t like this until he married Mum, and then she kept holding him back. And then they added kids to the mix, and he knew he was never going to be on time again in his life. Mum jokes that Tad was late to their wedding, and that she beat him down the altar. I’m honestly not even completely sure if it’s true or not, because I can very much see my father being late to his own wedding. To be fair, though, I can also see Mum nearly missing her own wedding march. I’ve never been able to have a relative confirm or deny this rumor. That's something that I should work on this holiday season.

Tad scowls jokingly at my words. “Look at you, back in Colchester not even ten minutes and you’re already having fun at your old man’s expense.”

“I tease because I care,” I answer, my eyes twinkling merrily.

He rolls his eyes. “Get in the car, Bee. Your mother is, no doubt, driving herself mad with worry back home, so the sooner I get you there, the sooner she can relax. And god knows she needs all of the relaxation that she can get these days.”

“Has she been that bad?” I inquire as he opens the passenger door and I climb up and into my seat.

He shuts the door and then walks around the front of the car and climbs back behind the steering wheel before he answers. “You know your mother—she’s not had the easiest go the last few months, and she’s just tired. It’ll all be over soon enough, anyway.”

“Is this a new car?” I ask, looking a bit apprehensively at the dashboard that’s littered with buttons and dials. There’s wood paneling across the dash that’s a really lovely dark reddish brown color that gives me a little thrill as I look at it. I imagine it has a really lush name, like mahogany or something. “When did this happen?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly fit your mother, a car seat, and three siblings in the old car,” Tad replies, watching the passing traffic out his sideview mirror before he pulls out onto the road. “So I had to upgrade so I can fit all of you lot inside. I mean, it’s your fault, really.”

“I’m not the one who decided to breed half of a football team,” I mumble under my breath, though judging by the gasp that comes from beside me, my father has heard my smart comment anyway. “I’m only slightly kidding.”

Colchester has been flying by the window, and despite the fact that I’ve only kept a half-eye on it, it makes my heart swell. I’ve missed this place so incredibly much. Memories swim through my mind as forgotten trysts and inside jokes come to light again for the first time in years. I had been so completely and utterly happy here, it’s difficult to think that I’ve been gone for over three years.

A small part of me realizes that I will never truly be able to come back here and be just plain Bryn from Colchester ever again. That girl has grown up and been replaced by Bryn from London. And while the change is welcome, and it’s been a good transition, a teeny part of me misses the girl who I once was.

My ride home afforded me a solid half an hour of talking with Tad, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It’s strange, actually. I never thought that I’d one day be able to sit in the car with my own father and hold an easy conversation about my life and my friends. I guess growing up and maturing has that affect on people. My concentration, however, is shot the moment the streets start to become very familiar to me.

I can walk these roads blindfolded, I’d wager. So many nights spent running up and down in the woods, mornings spent wading in the creek trying to catch tadpoles and bugs, and afternoons wasted making daisy chains and smoking hand rolled cigarettes with my mates.

And as the trees grow thicker, my excitement grows. Tad turns onto the drive that I know will presently bring me home. My childhood home is a long, low building that is hidden from the road by a long, dirt road and rows of trees. It had once been painted white, but it’s faded to a yellow color. The front door is a bright red that was once the talk of the town when Mum had it done up originally. The idle chatter has died away in the passing years, though the label of ‘the house with the red door’ didn’t. It’s my belief that Mum prides herself on it, and so every six months or so, she can be found putting a fresh coat of paint on so that it never dulls.

Half of the roof is covered in ivy that grows forward from the back of the house. The shingles have gone from a stark black to a dusky grey. The face of the house itself is really quite plain, all flat with six or seven windows placed evenly across. To the left, in what I know is my old bedroom, the roof comes to a brisk point and forms a long, low attic room. There’s a gabled window in the sitting room on the first floor that nearly always has a cat or a dog sleeping on the ledge.

As we trundle down the drive, I find myself leaning forward to catch my first glimpse of my old house. And as it comes into view, a burst of blissful happiness swells up and floods my entire being. I sigh quietly and lean back into my seat with a content grin on my face. It’s a little shabby, but it’s a place that I know I can always call home. I will always be able to find solace and comfort in this place.

Tad slows to a quiet stop in front of the garage and then shifts into park before he turns to look at me with a quiet smile on his lips. “Welcome home, Bryn.”



It’s late at night.

So late, in fact, that I’d been a bit worried about ringing Harry and waking him up or keeping him from his sleep. But as I’d crawled into bed, I’d had an SMS waiting for me from him, asking me to give him a call as soon as things settled down on my end.

He’d ended it with a heart emoji, and I’d nearly melted by his cuteness. This boy has no idea what he does to me exactly. Or maybe he has a very good idea, and he does these things on purpose. Honestly, that wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.

I text him back, asking him if he’s awake, before I busy myself with making myself comfortable. Mum had placed freshly washed sheets on my old mattress, and I’d stolen a duvet from the hearth downstairs where it had been warming all evening by the fire. The scent of fire and smoke clung to the threads, and as I bring the blanket to my nose and inhale deeply, I sigh happily.

My mobile starts to vibrate and flash with Harry’s name, and I swipe expertly with my thumb before I bring my phone to my ear. “Hey, you.”

“And how was your return home—triumphant, glorious, victorious, and about a hundred other adjectives that I can't think of right now?” Harry teases me, and I can very nearly see his eyes twinkling merrily.

I toss my head, though he can’t see me. “It was pretty much perfect. We got takeout from that Greek restaurant that I told you about.”

“And here I thought that it was perfect because you were back in the humble embrace of your family,” He laughs. “But you’re talking about that Olive’s Restaurant place, yes?”

“I knew you were listening,” I narrow my eyes.

He laughs again. I can hear his telly running in the background, and I do have to feel a bit guilty that I’m keeping him up so late. “Of course I listen. If I had to hear about their bloody kebabs one more time—”

“You would understand if you’d just try them,” I insist, laughing a bit. “Honestly, I’d bring some back for you—”

“Oh yum, four-hour old Greek food,” He deadpans. “I’m so thrilled.”

“—except it might not survive the train ride home,” I talk over his voice. “Because it’s that good. So I guess you’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

“Okay then,” Harry relents, though I can still hear the teasing in his tone. “So my first stop outside the station should be to Olive’s Restaurant, got it. I should bypass everything else, and queue up for Greek food.”

“Absolutely. Dodge the girlfriend and go for the Greek,” I turn over on to my side and pause. The heater that Griffith had drug upstairs for me hums in the corner, and the coils on the front cast a cozy orange glow around my room. “Are you excited to go to Sandringham tomorrow with your family?”

“Yeah,” He admits, changing topics smoothly. This is part of the reason why I love talking to Harry so much—he keeps up with my constant subject changes without batting an eye. “I’m more excited about Christmas pudding then I think I should be.” When I start to laugh, he chuckles good-naturedly, too. “Honestly, it’s something that I should have outgrown about fifteen years ago, but I can’t say that I have. Gran’s cook makes the most amazing pudding, and Will and I fight over it every year to get the last helping.”

“You sound like a bunch of two-year-olds,” I bite down on my lower lip. I can just picture a little Harry with crooked teeth and ears that stick out a touch too much, and it makes my heart swell. “I’m not even sure Cadi and Owi fight over seconds anymore.”

“Well then it’s a good thing that we’re talking about thirds then,” He pipes up. “Because that would be embarrassing for you.”

This time I have to actively work to stop myself from bursting out with a swell of laughter that would surely wake half of the household. “Thirds? You and Will fight over third helpings of pudding?”

“Of Christmas pudding,” He corrects me airily. “I fail to see why we’re still discussing this when we haven’t even managed to broach the subject of presents yet.”

I hesitate, my words dying on my lips as I contemplate his words. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t practically gagging to figure out what Harry bought me for Christmas. He’d asked me multiple times what I’d wanted, and as I always feel a bit weird about telling people what I want, I’d neatly dodged each and every one of his questions. He’d given up a few weeks ago, and said that I was getting a lump of coal for being such a rubbish girlfriend. And he’d steadfastly refused to give me any hint whatsoever about what he’s gotten me for the holidays.

“What did you get me?” I ask curiously, knowing very well that he won’t tell me.

Sure enough, he clucks his tongue like a mother hen. “I guess you’ll find out in two weeks then when I pick you up from the train station, won’t you?”

“You’re the worst,” I groan into my pillow. I can’t quite keep the laughter out of my voice. “I guess I’ll have to satisfy myself with kebabs from Olive’s until then.”

“Well while you satisfy yourself with kebabs,” Harry begins, but then stops himself. “And while we make a point to not discuss how absolutely awful that sounded, I’m going to have to let you go.”

A yawn slips out as I curl myself around my pillow a bit more tightly. “You have to get up early, don’t you?”

“Pretty early,” He admits, not at all sounding thrilled. Harry and early mornings go together about as well as water and oil. “Like the birds aren’t even going to be up early.”

“Well that doesn’t sound like fun,” I reply, sitting up in my bed and then leaning my forehead into the palm of my free hand. “So I guess I have to let you go, then.”

“Well, I mean, I can stay on the line with you, but I’m about to pass out in front of the telly so all you’ll really get out of it is late night infomercials.” As always, he is eloquent and goofy all at the same time.

“Why have you stayed up so late?” I scold him lightly. “You should have just gone to sleep!”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been able to talk to you, then. It’s fine; I can take a nap before we leave for Sandringham, and I wanted to talk to you about your day first.”

“Silly boy,” I wrinkle my nose, though my heart flutters wildly at his words. “Go to sleep, then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Have fun, keep me updated on Baby Matthews.” He orders around a rather large yawn. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Bry.”

“Good night, Har.” I whisper quietly into my mobile.

He smiles, and I can feel it in his words. “Sweet dreams, you.”