Angela
Chapter 2
Angela's P.O.V.
I sat on the dirty tiles as I rubbed the pain from my knee; I’d walked into the cupboard again. Terry said they’d be fixing it sometime soon as it’d been jutting out for months now, but I had a feeling I’d endure a few more bruises before that happened. I got up and tucked loose strands of my soaked hair behind my ears then took off my apron and hung it in the kitchen, very much ready to leave and ride home. I managed to get out of the café without stopping for conversation, a first for me, and hobbled to my bike tied up out back.
I took the time to try and calm myself on the way home and prepare to be at least civil to whomever it was that’d be staying a while in our guest room. I’d only been told this morning as I left for work, in the rain no less, and so I felt I had the right to be a little unhappy about the situation. I didn’t like strangers in our house. Although he was apparently an old friend of my fathers, no one else in my family had ever met him. My dad hadn’t seen him in years, but he’d told us that it was important we helped him out. I counted my blessings that at least it hadn’t been grandma staying over again.
“Hello?” I called out as I entered the house, dropping my bag in my room before then heading straight to the bathroom to take off my makeup. Not only had it run down to my cheeks, but my mother didn’t like it at the dinner table. She insisted we spend time as a family at tea time, and we had to dress proper for it. Apparently. I didn’t understand why wearing pyjamas was such a crime just because it was at a particular table. I’d have to try it one day just to see her reaction. It’d be worth it, no doubt.
It was my turn to set the table and so I grabbed the cutlery from the kitchen, kissing my mother on the cheek as I passed through, and headed to the table. I could hear James playing piano from the sitting room and smiled as he slipped on the keys. Being the eldest child didn’t make him perfect, though he liked to think it from time to time. I turned and felt my heart jump with me as a man clad in dark clothing entered the room with what appeared at a glance to be sharp objects in each hand. I cringed as knives and forks clanged across the tiled floor and looked down as I realised that the man was obviously just our guest and that he was only carrying candlesticks.
“I’m sorry, did I frighten you?” he said softly, chuckling at the mess I’d made.
“You may have.” I cleaned up and went to fetch clean cutlery. I hadn’t even looked him in the eye yet and I already disliked him. He knew damn well he’d frightened me.
“Mum, why didn’t you warn me he was already here?” She threw me a look, that look – the one that said she wasn’t entirely impressed with the situation, either.
“Your father’s told me he really gets along with this man. They were best friends in high school. We’ll get used to it.” She returned to her cooking. “Now go set the table, honey.”
I returned to the dining room to find our guest standing awkwardly by the cabinet, and only then did I realise who it was.
“You’re Billie Joe.”
“Yeah.”
“From Green Day.”
“Yeah?”
“What the heck are you doing here?” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck in an awkward manner, and I realised how rude I must have sounded. “I mean, don’t you live in America?”
“Yeah. I needed a break.” He smiled and left the room, and then I was the one standing there alone.
Billie was back for dinner, which I guessed was uncomfortable for all. I picked at my food, as per usual, as I watched Billie attempt to start a conversation several times.
“It’s really cold here, you know…” I couched as I realised Billie wasn’t talking about the weather, to which I saw his lips curve to just slightly.
“Yeah, it’s pretty much year round.” For once best friends, my dad and Billie didn’t seem to be all that friendly. Though, I was guessing my mother had something to do with it. He turned towards me now, eying my plate just quickly before his eyes rested upon mine.
“You served me today, you know.” I blushed, knowing the coffee I made today hadn’t been the best.
“I’m sorry.”
“Really, it wasn’t that bad…” It was nice of him to lie in front of my mother like that. She always expected the best of me and even if she didn’t necessarily like Billie, it’d kill her knowing I’d not served him very well.
“So why exactly are you in England, Billie?” my mother suddenly asked. Billie almost dropped his fork.
“It’s personal, really.” I looked up just in time to see the look my father gave my mother and liked that she chose to drop the subject as instructed.
“Excuse me.” I got up and left the table. I knew I’d get away with eating little as my mother wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of a guest, even if she didn’t particularly like them. I hoped for Billie’s sake she’d drop her expectations and accept him for as long as he needed to be away from home.
I sat on the dirty tiles as I rubbed the pain from my knee; I’d walked into the cupboard again. Terry said they’d be fixing it sometime soon as it’d been jutting out for months now, but I had a feeling I’d endure a few more bruises before that happened. I got up and tucked loose strands of my soaked hair behind my ears then took off my apron and hung it in the kitchen, very much ready to leave and ride home. I managed to get out of the café without stopping for conversation, a first for me, and hobbled to my bike tied up out back.
I took the time to try and calm myself on the way home and prepare to be at least civil to whomever it was that’d be staying a while in our guest room. I’d only been told this morning as I left for work, in the rain no less, and so I felt I had the right to be a little unhappy about the situation. I didn’t like strangers in our house. Although he was apparently an old friend of my fathers, no one else in my family had ever met him. My dad hadn’t seen him in years, but he’d told us that it was important we helped him out. I counted my blessings that at least it hadn’t been grandma staying over again.
“Hello?” I called out as I entered the house, dropping my bag in my room before then heading straight to the bathroom to take off my makeup. Not only had it run down to my cheeks, but my mother didn’t like it at the dinner table. She insisted we spend time as a family at tea time, and we had to dress proper for it. Apparently. I didn’t understand why wearing pyjamas was such a crime just because it was at a particular table. I’d have to try it one day just to see her reaction. It’d be worth it, no doubt.
It was my turn to set the table and so I grabbed the cutlery from the kitchen, kissing my mother on the cheek as I passed through, and headed to the table. I could hear James playing piano from the sitting room and smiled as he slipped on the keys. Being the eldest child didn’t make him perfect, though he liked to think it from time to time. I turned and felt my heart jump with me as a man clad in dark clothing entered the room with what appeared at a glance to be sharp objects in each hand. I cringed as knives and forks clanged across the tiled floor and looked down as I realised that the man was obviously just our guest and that he was only carrying candlesticks.
“I’m sorry, did I frighten you?” he said softly, chuckling at the mess I’d made.
“You may have.” I cleaned up and went to fetch clean cutlery. I hadn’t even looked him in the eye yet and I already disliked him. He knew damn well he’d frightened me.
“Mum, why didn’t you warn me he was already here?” She threw me a look, that look – the one that said she wasn’t entirely impressed with the situation, either.
“Your father’s told me he really gets along with this man. They were best friends in high school. We’ll get used to it.” She returned to her cooking. “Now go set the table, honey.”
I returned to the dining room to find our guest standing awkwardly by the cabinet, and only then did I realise who it was.
“You’re Billie Joe.”
“Yeah.”
“From Green Day.”
“Yeah?”
“What the heck are you doing here?” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck in an awkward manner, and I realised how rude I must have sounded. “I mean, don’t you live in America?”
“Yeah. I needed a break.” He smiled and left the room, and then I was the one standing there alone.
Billie was back for dinner, which I guessed was uncomfortable for all. I picked at my food, as per usual, as I watched Billie attempt to start a conversation several times.
“It’s really cold here, you know…” I couched as I realised Billie wasn’t talking about the weather, to which I saw his lips curve to just slightly.
“Yeah, it’s pretty much year round.” For once best friends, my dad and Billie didn’t seem to be all that friendly. Though, I was guessing my mother had something to do with it. He turned towards me now, eying my plate just quickly before his eyes rested upon mine.
“You served me today, you know.” I blushed, knowing the coffee I made today hadn’t been the best.
“I’m sorry.”
“Really, it wasn’t that bad…” It was nice of him to lie in front of my mother like that. She always expected the best of me and even if she didn’t necessarily like Billie, it’d kill her knowing I’d not served him very well.
“So why exactly are you in England, Billie?” my mother suddenly asked. Billie almost dropped his fork.
“It’s personal, really.” I looked up just in time to see the look my father gave my mother and liked that she chose to drop the subject as instructed.
“Excuse me.” I got up and left the table. I knew I’d get away with eating little as my mother wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of a guest, even if she didn’t particularly like them. I hoped for Billie’s sake she’d drop her expectations and accept him for as long as he needed to be away from home.