All Of Me | By : StrawberryWine36 Category: -Movies Misc > Het - Male/Female Views: 2032 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Kingsman movie or the characters.This is a work of fiction and I am making no money from this. |
These days were like revels, there could be ten astounding orange ones and then a coffee flavour straight afterwards. In fact it had been a good couple of weeks so far, so good that once again my guard had been well and truly dropped. It was a Tuesday evening, so far nothing had been out of the ordinary, I had run a bath as always, ordered two double chicken burgers and relaxed at my laptop in my dressing gown. Tuesday night was and always had been writing night, I would religiously insert my usb stick into my laptop and attempt to get through at least a chapter.
A number of heavy sighs and huffs came from the direction of the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts. I paused between sentences and waited for the bang of a door that I had expected. As if on autopilot I closed down the laptop and slotted the usb stick into my dressing gown pocket. Heading on out to the hallway with Toby, my faithful little King Charles spaniel at my feet. I could swear sometimes that dog was connected to me by an invisible wire. There on the kitchen floor lay the entire contents of my under sink cupboard. Cleaning products, dusters, scourers and sprays littered one side of the room and the other was strewn plasters, blister packs of various pills and medications. There amongst the Vicks and piriton, just slightly left of the elastoplasts lay my not so better half. He was half sprawled along the bottom shelf, flinging bottles and packets behind him randomly as he searched.
“What are you looking for?” I asked eventually.
“The ibuprofen, I’ve found ten packets of paracetamols and no bloody ibuprofen, where the fuck are they?”
I stood for a moment contemplating the correct answer.
“I might have some beside my bed.” I offered, racing past. How the hell could I have actually not realise we were lacking in a medication, particularly the one that he used. If anything I made sure that we were abundant in rennies, Beechams cold and flu and Vicks, although I had regrettably forgotten about the bloody ibuprofens. I hoped that there might be some on my bedside table since I had taken a few the last time I had put my back out. Alas there was yet again an abundance of paractetamols but no ibuprofen.
“Can’t you just take paracetamols?”
“No, it’s a fucking toothache, now where the fuck have my ibuprofens gone?”
“I, I don’t know, I may have taken them possibly, a few weeks ago but I was sure that I replaced them.” Oh yes here I was, wittering like a budgie over a twenty pence packet of tablets.
“What did you take them for?”He scowled up at me.
“I couldn’t sleep...”
“That’s stupid, they are pain killers, and you might have well have taken paracetamols!”
“I, I don’t know, they worked better.” It sounded so stupid, my reasoning but he had got worked up and I knew where this was heading. Oh didn’t it always go in the same pattern, a small build up to something a lot nastier. I knew damn well I had used the ibuprofens, even though they were not in any way sleeping pills, they had the right effect when I used them. Maybe it was a placebo effect, the whole procedure of popping two out and taking them, but if I necked a few I would soon fall into a deep sleep for some reason. Either way it was probably safer than half the pills and powders that Rafe bought into the house!
“How about I go over the shop and get some more!” I grabbed my purse and coat and headed towards the door. This was the answer; I go and get some more tablets and problem over. He stopped me in my tracks.
“Don’t be so fucking stupid! I don’t need them until tomorrow, I’m covered for tonight.” He retreated towards the bedroom and slammed the door. I stood for a moment, mind blown yet again. If the damn tablets hadn’t been so important until the morning then why make such a fuss now. It seemed always when I had found a solution to a problem, it wasn’t even important! Tears prickled behind my eyes so I stormed out of the front door, if only to push the recycling bin down the path to the gate. I took a moment to take a deep breath. Maybe I did over react but why did everything have to be my fault and after all, I was right to be wary. Rafe’s rages could subside but sometime they didn’t. I wiped my eyes took a deep breath and headed back in to the house. It was silent and Rafe was stood in the kitchen once again, leaning back against the worktop, smoking a cigarette and frowning deeper than a shar Pei.
“Where did you go?”
“I put the green bin out, in case I forget later on.”
He looked away, not able to continue the conversation the way he wanted. I felt sick, palpitations banging at my chest like I was going to burst. My head felt heavy, I flicked through a million different thoughts as Rafe broke the silence by banging his fist down hard on the counter.
“For fucks sake!” At the same time, a mug flipped off the end and smashed into pieces by the door. I jumped to clean it up but Rafe had already grabbed the broom and was franticly angry sweeping in the kind of way that actually wasn’t doing anything at all. I heard him clash into three walls before I intervened as cleaner of the house.
“Let me do it, you go and relax in the bedroom.” I grabbed the handle of the broom and he pulled it away.
“Don’t fucking bother, you’ve done enough!”
I stood back for a moment then opened my mouth to offer help again. Rafe swung around to stare at me, his eyes wide and raging, staring at me with no emotion he raised the broom up over my head. My fight or flight response kicked in like a mother fucker. I froze, hearing a scream for a moment before realising it was coming from me. His expression did not change so I ran, I ran out of that front door and down the path and I didn’t stop.
Down the street to the corner, my dressing gown flapping around my legs, I continued around the corner and along until I reached the cemetery gate house. I slowed down and ambled thorough the gates, past the large over whelming stone figurine of Jesus on the cross. I always hurried quickly past that. Along the cobbles to the bench, the bench I always sat on, the bench I always thought on. It was metal, a real old nineteen eighties style green metal bench. I sat down in the middle and sighed, staring ahead at the familiar gravestone, Phillip Attrill 1865, poor old Phillip, I had visited him far too many times and for completely the wrong reason. As I sat, the drizzle started fresh and cold on my face. I remained there, staring straight ahead .It’s funny, when your brain is so addled and confused and your mind switches off form confusion, do you know what you do? You hum...you hum things that you might never imagine, it warms the face and keeps your face occupied. I hummed a lot, I hummed in the bathroom when Rafe was angry, I hummed in the car when he was shouting at me for getting in the wrong lane, I hummed now because I was cold and my head hurt, my head was tired, my head ached. The misty rain hit my face, cold and fresh, it was then that I noticed a blurry image of a man approaching up the path; I imagined it was another dog walker and looked down at my lap, praying that the dog didn’t come and jump at me, drawing attention to myself. Instead the figure stopped in front of me. I ignored it at first, which worked most times; I mean who bothers when they get no response. I sat hunched over, my hands still connected, humming, wishing the world away. ‘Go away’ I chanted inside my head, that’s why I’m here, to be alone.
“Would you like an umbrella?”
I looked up with a start, not realising that he was still nearby.
“Umbrella” He repeated. “Would you like to borrow it, you look like you are getting a bit wet sat there.” He asked. I looked up to see a figure through the misty rain. He was dressed in a long black jacket, he stood slightly taller than me, about twenty years my senior in my assumption. I stared for a moment before remembering my manners.
“Um, no it’s ok; really, I’m going home in a bit. I’m just ...”
“Sitting here?” He replied, handing me the umbrella. I smiled and nodded taking it from him. Damn, well done! Now he’s going to expect conversation. Many were the times that someone would ask me if I was ok, ask me how I was and I dismissed them. Mostly old ladies or dog walkers. This one was different; I didn’t even know why to be honest apart from the genuine kindness he had shown whilst at the same time knowing that I didn’t want to talk.
“I must go and pay my respects but feel free to keep it until I return.” He nodded politely as he turned.
I watched him leave; he asked no questions which felt strange as usually I would be asked about why I was there, what I was doing, if I was ok. I actually liked the fact that he had been so flippant. I sat back, thinking. Rafe was an arsehole, in fact I often wondered how I would feel if he went out on his bike one day and was involved in a horrific road traffic accident. If I got a phone call to say he had passed away after being flattened by a by a lorry, I thought of how I would respond. In one way I would be sad, I mean, any death is sad as it is the end of a life but in this case I felt no mercy and slapped my own arm at the thought.
“Everything ok madam?” His voice made me jump back to reality.
“Yeah, yeah, I just do that.”I mumbled, yeah great answer you twat! I told myself. I admittedly smiled to myself at the way he had referred to me as ‘madam’ that was a whole new experience.
“If you pardon me asking, I have noticed that you have been here quite a while. “
“Paying my respects” I lied.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing my story.
“May I ask to whom?”
“I....er....my mate... Mandy.” I came out with eventually.
Fucking Mandy, of all the stupid ideas to come out with. I shut my eyes in response to my own idiocy.
“Shellie, I know why you’re here.” He said softly, gently putting his warm hand lightly on my own in that calming tone he worked so well.
“That’s not my name!” I lied, oh god this was weird, was he a stalker or just another Lowther lunatic. That song by ‘The police’ popped into my head as I shuffled my bum along to propel myself up the other end of the bench.
“Well that’s what I have been told. I had better introduce myself.” He sighed, holding out his hand. “My name is Harry Hart, I work for a secret organisation which I cannot go into too many details about at present. I know this may seem a lot of information to keep in a short amount of time but I am sent here to protect you because you are a very special lady.”
I shook his hand slowly, inwardly digesting his words. Ok, this was beyond weird. I hide out in little Lowther cemetery, the middle of nowhere of the back of beyond and I get some sort of guardian angel in a suit and glasses.
“Special!” I laughed as I said the word. “Don’t get called that very often.
“Shellie!” He continued. “I am privileged to work alongside a relative of yours, your uncle in fact. He is very concerned about you at the moment.”
I stood back for a moment racking my brains, my hand to my mouth in deep thought. I wasn’t aware of any uncles on my mother’s side. My dad had occasionally mentioned the existence of his brother but that they had not spoken since they were children. Not that that was any help to the situation, if this was the man in question; I couldn’t even remember his name. This was too random, what if this was just guess work on weird stalker man’s part which had matched just by chance. An uncle I had never met, why on earth would he be concerned about me? He wouldn’t even know me! It just didn’t add up at all.
“Are you from the pub? Are you some weird friend of Rafe’s? Because I really can’t deal with any of this psychological shit right now.” I asked, shaking my head in confusion.
“No, but I’ve been sent here to ensure sure you remain safe.” He replied. I giggled and stood up.
“No offence but unless you promise to be my personal bodyguard with super powers...that aint happening!” I smiled, wiping the last of my mascara smudges as best I could and starting to head off in the direction of home.
“That can be arranged!” He replied, walking behind me until we reached my house. He strode ahead up the path and thrust open the door. There was no response; I guessed Rafe had gone out, thankfully!
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Your endearing other half.” He muttered.
“Um, probably at his mums...that is where he tends to go when he thinks I’m pissed off.” I shrugged.
Harry glanced up the stairs, swept past me into the kitchen. I left him to it for a moment, as if I had any control over any of this. By the time he had returned I was sat out front on the doorstep. The cool breeze of the evening wafting across my face.
“Shellie, I apologise for all this. Take this and if there is any moment you feel even the slightest bit afraid or in a situation where you feel unsafe, just call this number.”
He handed me a small card and with that made his way down the path, through the gate and away. I sat there for a few minutes more, flipping the card over in my hands, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Perhaps Rafe had taken to putting drugs in my coffee or maybe just maybe I was going as mad as I felt inside. It was at least half an hour before I pulled myself up and walked through to the kitchen. Kneeling by the oven I began slowly picking up each packet of pills, bottles of bleach and bin bags and replacing them in the cupboard. I sat on the cold lino floor with my head back against the cupboard door; Toby took it as a cue to dive bomb my lap and shower my face with kisses.
“Give it a rest you nutter!” I pushed his excited furry head away from my mouth, my brain going over and over what had happened today. Either I needed to go and book myself in for a padded cell or I had to find out why my pathetic boring life was in any way interesting to an ‘organisation’ as Harry had called it.
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