Hi! I’m back, I’ve got a new chapter, and thanks for reviewing me rakiebakie , I hope I’ve got a new reader! I got my results, and I’m into my Uni of choice – Oxford University.

No kidding. Seriously.

I’m still reeling.

I wanted to write Harriet and Tom applying to Oxford instead of Cambridge originally, but I didn’t in the end in case things went wrong. It’d be awful writing about them getting in when I wasn’t going :( but as it looks like I’m going, I’m very happy. I’m going to Pembroke College to study Philosophy and Theology. A piece of information which is a little gratuitous, but I thought you might like to know.

This chapter is one I couldn’t avoid writing, and could have been split in two, but I didn’t see the point. Nothing much happens, but it is quiet necessary to keep the story ticking over without too many leaps, plus we get a bit more of Harriet’s character in this. I hope I haven’t gone to Harriet heavy, but I think its quiet interesting. But the next chapter should be a lot more fun.

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Chapter 7 – Moment of Rest

Today is a day when many fine things will come
Today is just a memory tomorrow
I know that there's some bad things to come
But I'll forget them all until tomorrow
The days are long and nights don't come at all
We eat and drink and then we fall asleep
And then I dream of moons and horror shows
And then I'll wake up fresh and new tomorrow

Moons and Horror shows – The Zutons

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“…so, they did let go of him about half-way down the hill, but he still was forced in.” finished Tom.

“Poor bloke – “ Uncle Bill laughed, “did he get out alive?”

“Barely.” Said Tom, “he made the error of saying that Pearl DID look fat in something…”

Uncle Bill sipped the cup of coffee Tom had brought up for him, watching Tom gesticulate wildly as he told him about his afternoon out. It was nice to see Tom completely flushed and grinning like a mad thing, it made such a difference to him, it really did. He looked like a young man, not some kind of lost sheep or a watery shadow of a human. Happiness made him look more solid.

“Ah, that is the mistake of the novice” Bill chuckled, “ –never actually tell a woman the truth about how she looks ; she won’t believe you if you say something nice and if you say something bad…well, it ain’t worth it.”

“Well, he actually said she should get the next size up…”Tom corrected himself, “but he did get sat on. Severely sat on.”

“How do you sit on someone severely?” asked Bill.

“It helps if you pull them off a chair and jump on their chest. Repeatedly.”

“Ah, the path of true love.” Joked Bill, “so what did you make of them?”

“Harriet’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

Tom fell silent for a moment and considered the question, turning it over in his mind as he picked up a small box from a shelf and flipped it in his hands. “They seem…nice. Normal, very middle class, but not too bad.” Tom found the secret latch on the box and slid it open, “yeah, not too bad. At least Miles seems normal, and Pearl, she’s like the epitome of middle-class bossiness, but she’s not too obnoxious for it.”

“So, a good time had by all?” Bill asked, trying to sound even remotely casual about it.

“Sort of, the other boy she hangs around with is just weird.” Said Tom, shaking his head, “There’s nothing wrong with him as such, but, y’know, he makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“Rodriquez? Really?” Bill was actually quiet surprised. “He’s as gay as a window, but he’s a good bloke.”

“I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me much. When he met me he started making jokes about Honslow having a high-crime rate.” Sulked Tom. That Rodriquez probably hasn’t had a bad though in his entire life, with everyone loving him because he’s him, thought Tom angrily. It doesn’t matter that he’s gay, or eccentric, or hurtful because he’s beautiful and he’s charming, Tom bet that when he was at school, he was one of the people in the popular crowd; not as high as the rugby team, but still high in the pecking order. Tom has always been right at the bottom, no matter how hard he tried to fit in. People hated Tom by sight, almost the same way people loved Rodriquez the moment he looked at them, with that cheeky glint in his eyes.

“Harsh.” Said Bill, sucking his teeth, “didn’t know he was like that.”

Tom slid the lid back into place and put the box back on the shelf. “Are you working all night, or are you coming down later?” asked Tom.

“I’ll be down later, I’m going to bed if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, no, I was wondering whether I ought to cook something and bring it up.” Said Tom casually, “I was thinking of maybe some Lasagne, something like that…”

“Tom, you might cook like that for your Aunt, but to be frank, I’m happy with beans. I’ll come down and cook something in a minute…” Have a meal together, talk about things, make sure that he’s all right.

“No, no, that’s okay.” Said Tom forcefully, “you’ve got a lot to do, you stay there, it’ll give me something to do.”

Before Bill could protest Tom’d hopped off the chair he’d been sitting on and was half-way down the stairs before Bill could shout, “I’ll be down in a minute…”

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“Don’t count on it.” Said Miles, slamming down a pint glass as he drained the last of his beer, “I still don’t trust him.”

“What? How come?” asked Harriet, her voice almost filling the dungy, half-empty pub, “you met him, he’s a nice bloke and he needs some people to hang out with.”

“He thinks Daft Punk is an Indie band. Case closed.”

The four of them sat around, having gone to the pub shortly after Tom had run off home. The silence between them was filled with the sound of the off-key caterwalling of the band who were trying to do a set there tonight. 1

“I still don’t get your beef with him. You liked him earlier.” Said Harriet, taking another sip of her Vodka and orange.

“I was polite. There’s a difference.” Noted Miles, “I don’t trust someone who tells you that they’re boring, first off. It was like pulling teeth just to find out he was doing Maths.”

“He was just nervous Miles, “ said Pearl, “I agree with Harriet, I think he just doesn’t know us and got all shy.”

“Shy? With us?” Miles snorted, “Why would anyone be nervous with us? It’s not as if we pick on people or anything, and for Gods sake, Rodriquez practically had his tongue hanging out of his mouth.”

“Did I?” Rodriquez said dreamily.

“Nice to see you back in this world, but you couldn’t have been more obvious if you’d stuck your hand down his pants. “ Miles sighed, and putting on a falsetto high - pitched voice said, “’Oh Tom, wanna come to my house; Tom, you like Indie music as well? Can I suck you off?’”

Harriet and Pearl sniggered into their drinks as Rodriquez went an appealing shade of red. Stroking his wrist he said petulantly, “Dammit, you know I get like that when I get nervous!”

“To be honest, I don’t know what you see in him.” Tutted Miles, “He’s skinny and has a worse fashion sense than me.”

“That’s saying something.” Bit back Rodriquez, still a little angry, “and I’m not that shallow. I admit I usually date guys who’re a bit bigger and are more…extrovert, but…I dunno…it’s weird.”

“Rodriquez, he’s so skinny he’s practically anorexic2.” Stated Miles baldly, “and he’s as straight as they come.”

“How do you know?” asked Pearl, “none us know him, he could be gay.”

“If I’m going to have him hang around with us, then he should at least be straight; as the only heterosexual male seemly left on this planet, I deserve some support.”

Pearl giggled, and resting her head on his shoulder cooed, “poor Miles, the world is ganging up on you, isn’t it.”

“Hah! You’ve agreed to a trial run, haven’t you?” beamed Harriet.

“God Damn, Yes, the world has teamed up against me!” He answered, his hand winding its way into hers, “but seriously, what do you see in him?”

“Why? You’ve already decided he’s straight.”

“Rodriquez, just spill!”

“He seems kinda cute.” Rodriquez grinned, “He looks like a cross between a handsome Pete Doherty and a young Jarvis Cocker3.”

Even Rodriquez found himself unable to keep a straight face at his description. They all sniggered a little.

“Yeah, he does look like a drug addict.” Miles grumbled.

“Miles, don’t joke about that sort of thing.” Harriet snapped unexpectedly, “I think he’s properly sick. I mean ill.”

“He’s a bit under the weather, yeah, but once he’s over it he’ll be fine, right?” Asked Rodriquez.

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Said Harriet, frozen in a solemn expression that looks out of place on her usually smiling face, “You know Mr Tyler, he’s asked me to keep an eye on him, find out why he’s so ill, see if he’ll tell me what’s bothering him. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but earlier when we were walking through the park he was practically fainting.” Harriet sighed morosely and stared into the distance. “For someone of our age, that’s just not normal.”

“So?... Shit, is that the time? I’ve got to go.” Rodriquez finished his drink and said, “I was meant to be home about twenty minutes ago. Midge’s gonna kill me.”

“See ya ‘round, lover boy.” Miles said, grinning from ear to ear.

“So Shut your mouth; I’ll see you tomorrow.”4 Grinned Rodriquez, finding himself humming and old Queen tune5 as he left the Pub, taking the quick way home.

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Next morning the air was cold, even though it was the height of summer, as the sun had risen barely an hour ago. Tom shivered in the cold, wearing two pairs of tracksuit bottoms, the fleecy one hidden underneath the Addidas shell-suit, a vest, with a long sleeve tee shirt and another tee shirt on top of that, and the matching jacket to go with the trousers. The bottom of the hem was tattered and permanently stained with mud and his jacket had a hole in the lining from where he’d ripped it during training one day, but never got around to fixing it. Tom was still frozen, jogging on the stop to keep warm, watching his breath condense as he breathed out.

He stood waiting for Harriet to turn up, even though he didn’t want to. He wished he hadn’t agreed to it now, he didn’t like training with other people. They either outshined him, making him doubt his one useful ability, or they kept telling him to slow down, not work to hard, not to strain himself, but they didn’t realise that without straining yourself, you never improve your time or your performance. He knew they did it to bring him back down, make him fat, make him disgusting and repulsive, make him become what he knew he was, vile, ugly and stupid. They might even mean well, but inevitably they’d destroy any facade of humanity about him, that poor show he put on of being a normal human being as opposed to the sub-human monster he knew himself to be.

As he felt his legs ache at the though of someone meeting the true Tom, he saw Harriet walk through the gates, staggering in a semi-wakeful trance and somehow make her way towards him.

“So, ready to go?” asked Tom as Harriet let out a loud yawn.

“Not really.” She said, stretching her arms out to the sky, “It’s too early.”

“No it isn’t, just before breakfast, get your metabolism going.” He said, jogging on the stop and grinning at her.

“There’s still mist on the ground!” he complained, “I’ve been up since five thirty and you’re fit, Mr Running man. Give me a chance!”

“If you run before eating you burn off more calories.” He said, “and you’re more fit than me. Trust me on this one.”

Harriet rolled her eyes and cracking a bone in her neck looked at him for a second before saying, “Okay, I can deal with half-way ‘round, but I don’t do hills.”

“Really? I would do the whole thing plus hills.”

“Pity a poor student.”

“You have much to learn, grasshopper. But enough chat. Ready?”

“Yes. But give me half way at least.”

“Okay, I do, but lets go.” he pressed. She’d already managed to waste five minutes, he usually had his run over by seven, enough time to sneak back in and sleep for another five minutes.

“Sure” she yawned, popping a bone in the middle of her spine. “So, which way first?”

XXXXXXXXX

An hour, four mountainous hills and an extremely smugly energetic Tom later, Harriet was making her way home to sleep. Harriet hadn’t suspected that Tom was as half as fit as he was, or that she was a lot less fit that she was. Harriet did actually have honest reasons to run with him; she honestly wanted to get fit, but Tom was a maniac.

As he reached the top of her road, leaning on a fence, she wondered how he managed to do it. She could tell he was tired and that his body couldn’t keep up, but every time she stopped to breath, he stood there, his own body shaking, but still able to grin arrogantly at her as she gasped for air. It all seemed to say, ‘look at me, I’m so much better than you’, and if there was one thing Harriet had come to despise over the years it was that kind of smugness. She’d had it all her life off people and frankly, she thought Tom was too mature of it.

She staggered down the road, still annoyed, but more tired than anything. Dear God she needed something to drink; she could still feel the iron in her spit and her throat felt like someone had set a cheese grater on it. But even now she swore she saw a little pain in Tom’s expression as they hit the top of the hill, but the arrogant bastard wouldn’t, couldn’t stop and take a breather when he was tired, he had to just keep running, and to prove what? That he was better than mere mortals that found almost vertical hill’s tough? That he could outrun even his own pain threshold? Although Harriet joked to herself that this was quiet a useful skill, she thought it was odd. Why try to kill yourself for something as small as that? It really wasn’t worth the effort he was putting in…

As she reached the house she saw her brother Rodger leaving for work. Harriet trotted towards him and staring at him a bit drunkenly said, “Mornin’.”

“Harry, where have you been?” he asked matter of factly.

“I’ve just been out for a run with Tom, y’know…”

“…your bosses’ son, or whatever, I think I got it the first hundred times.” He said, rolling his eyes at her. “Mum’s on the warpath. I managed to leave without making things worse, but she’s worked herself into a frenzy.”

“Thanks for the tip.” She said sarcastically.

“Well, I’m not staying around to watch the fireworks, that’s your job Harry.” Rodger replied, grinning like a snake, patting her on the shoulder, “See yer later.”

“Yeah, later Rodger.” Harriet griped, managing to make even this sound sarcastic.

Harriet should have expected it as she walked in the door, but her exhaustion weakened her resolve and her patience. Her Mum, hair-half in curlers, wearing an ugly pair of shapeless trousers that tapered down to her ankle and a sequinned cropped cardigan, a mis-guided attempt at fashion rushed out of the kitchen like a panicked pigeon and in a flurry yelled at her, “Where the hell have you been? I went up to your room to find you missing and I didn’t know what had happened to you, I thought you might have been taken and raped in your sleep, how dare you leave this house without telling me! Where the hell have you been!”

Harriet, having let the anger rush past her, looked up from the floor and said in her calmest voice, “I went for a run this morning with Tom. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it, it must have slipped my mind last night…”

“How could you just leave me like that!” her mother shrieked, “How could you leave me?”

“Mum, I haven’t left you!” Harriet said quickly, trying to remain calm, “I just forgot to tell you I was going, I’ve only been gone a couple of hours.”

“Harriet, you can’t just come and go as you please!” she yelled, “You can’t just string me along, not telling what on earth you’re doing? So what did this Tom bloke do, tell you he loved you and everything? Well Madam, I tell you, all men say that, but all they want is one thing, and once they’ve got that they leave you!”

“Mum, Tom just wanted a running partner…”

“That’s how they all start! First of all it’s running, then it’s going to their house, then its sex Harriet, it’s always sex!6” Harriet mum ranted, “I know what boys of his age are like, they only want one thing and they don’t care who they hurt to get it!”

“Mum, please, just calm down…”Harriet pleaded.

“You just abandoned me Harriet, you never spend any time at Home, I barely see you and you’re off to university in October and I’m not going to see you after that, how do you think that makes me feel Harriet, how do you think it makes me feel?” There was a pause as Harriet looked away, feeling as if she could just collapse and go to sleep. Her mother grabbed her face and pulled it toward her and screamed,”answer me Harriet!”

“Mum, please…” Harriet tried to keep her voice emotionless and composed but she fought back tears of frustration that pricked at the very backs of her eyes.

“You’re such a selfish creature Harriet, you always put yourself first, you never think about how anyone else feels…”

“Mum, it was just a mistake, I’m sorry…” Harriet begged.

“I don’t even want to look at you now!” Harriet’s mum hissed, “I can’t stand it…”

Harriet took her cue and ran up the stairs to her room, pushing the door shut and leaning on it just for a moment, taking in a few breaths. She swallowed the spit in her throat, and wobbling a little, jumped on her bed and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She felt her body trembling, still a little shell shocked at her mother’s outburst. Harriet was used to it, there was no point baiting her or trying to reason with her, but it still hadn’t prepared Harriet for it. It usually took Harriet a good couple of minutes and a lot more patience to shrug off one of her mother’s paranoia moments, so she was still feeling shaky. Harriet knew what her mother was saying wasn’t true, she’d worked that out long ago, but it still got to her. There was nothing Harriet could do to please her mother except stay at home with her all the time and be her best friend, but Harriet had friends of her own and wanted to spend time with them. She just wanted her own life; was that so wrong?

Harriet, rolling over into recovery position stared at her wall. She thought she was exhausted after the run; now she felt completely drained.

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Thanks for reading! This chapter does seem a bit blocky on re – reading, but I hope it doesn’t jar too much.

I also apologise for the randomness of the footnotes and the comments at the beginning of the chapter. I am currently suffering from flu, and not quiet thinking straight, but the story itself should be fine. I just need a good nights rest.

Thank you for reading, please r and r if you can.

Luff and Hugs

Xandra the Blue.

1 Originally here Harriet had an argument with the band, and the band actually got involved in the story, but they will be featuring by name later in the story. I was originally going to introduce a future plot point here, but it slowed the pace too much, so the band, whilst being a random reference, does have a point. Just thought I ought to point it out as they have very little to do with what’s going on.

2 Now, this line was sweriously debateable; I thought it was too obvious, as I didn’t really want to have anyone actually diagnose him until much later in the story, but it also seemed like a natural thing for Miles to say. In the end I put it in, justifying by saying that Miles is throwing the term around as abuse, in the same way Miles might call someone ‘special’ if they’re being a bit stupid that day. He doesn’t actually mean it, but he obviously sees that he’s too thin.

3 Hmm, I’m not a Libertines fan, but Rodriquez obviously is. Or at least thinks Pete Doherty is hot. He doesn’t compare everthing to him though.

4 Rodriquez attempting to quote the smiths and failing.

5 If anyone’s interested, the tune’s “Good old Fashioned Lover Boy” One of my favourite songs.

6 Hmm…do I detect some abandonment issues here. Well, someone’s had to deal with them over the years, and it’s definitely not been Harriet’s mum. Okay, I went Harriet heavy again.