Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Storm woke up to her alarm at 7:30 the next morning. She turned it off and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked down at herself. Why was she still in her clothes? It took her a minute or two before she remembered talking to Fries and then falling asleep on the couch. Well then how had she got here? Fries must have carried her. The thought was a weird one. At the same time, she couldn't help thinking it was rather sweet.
She left her bedroom and discovered he was already in the shower. And by the time he came out and she had eaten her breakfast and made her lunch, she had forgotten about it.
Storm went to Wild Iris with some apprehension about whether Stacy or Ana would show up. She was betting it would be Stacy, and she wouldn't be too happy, either.
But when she got there, the store was already open, and Anastasia was making tea. She looked up and said, cheerfully, "Good morning."
Storm looked at her carefully. She looked like Ana, but she acted like Stacy who didn't know. "Ana?"
"Yeah?"
That answers that question. Storm came forward and leaning on the counter, said, "I wanted to apologize for my comment last night. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."
"Oh, that. Don't worry about it. Really. I understood what you meant."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. We're cool."
Storm smiled at her. "Good."
"What'd you think of last night?"
"It was a blast! I was so surprised when Fries actually took on West like that."
"It was funny though."
Storm nodded in assent.
The two women began to go about their morning routines as usual.
That afternoon, Fries came into the shop. He waited until the customers had left before asking, "Where's Ana, or Stacy?"
"Stacy had some errands she needed to take care of."
"So you have only one person running the store sometimes?"
"Yeah, like when I picked you up from the airport."
"That's right."
"Did you call Elizabeth and Will?" she asked.
"No. Your phone at home won't let me call long distance."
"Oh yeah. I have a good plan for long distance in the shop, so usually I just call out from here instead."
"So can I use the phone here then?"
"Sure. Just go to the office and use it there."
"Do you want to talk to them?"
"No. Don't let either of them know you're staying with me. It'll certainly raise suspicions if you say that."
"Okay."
Fries walked into the office and sat down in the chair. Then he picked up the phone and dialed the Bennet Mansion.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is Elizabeth or William home?" asked Fries.
"May I ask who's calling?" The voice was youngish- maybe 6 or 7- and male.
"Fries."
"Who?"
"Fries."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No. I used to live there too, and I chose my name to be Fries."
"That's so cool!"
"What's your name?"
"Ron."
"Hi Ron. How long have you been living in the Bennet Mansion?"
"A while."
"A long while?"
"No, just a while."
"Are there a lot of other boys and girls living there?"
"Yeah."
"How many?"
"A lot."
"Can you name some of them?"
"Um... Harry, Fiona, Shrek,"
"Shrek?"
"Yeah, he sleeps next door to me. And Lilly... um..."
Fries then heard a familiar voice, "Ron, who are you talking to?"
Ron began to giggle. "He says his name is Hamburger!!"
"No, it's Fries," he said to the boy.
"Hello?" Fries sighed at hearing her voice again. He missed her a lot.
"Hi mum."
"I figured it would be you," she said, and he could hear from her voice that she was grinning. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing really well."
"Where are you?"
"I don't remember," he lied. "I flew in late last night and all these places begin to look alike and blur together in my memory after a while."
"Don't wear yourself out, will you?" she asked, concerned.
"I won't," he replied, smiling at her motherliness.
"So what's the occasion?" she asked.
"Well I have something to ask of you, but I also called to chat with you and William. Is he around?"
"He should be in his office. Do you want me to tell him to pick up?"
"Please."
She continued to talk to him as she walked through the mansion to William's office. "We're pretty full right now. I could still take on two more children, but there hasn't been a real need for those spaces so far."
"That's good, isn't it?"
"Yes. The day I have an empty house will be the third happiest day of my life."
"Third?"
"Well, the day we heard the decision on your court case is first, and the day we finalized Storm's adoption is second."
Fries grinned. Storm came in at that second and looked at him questioningly.
"Later," he mouthed to her and then turned his attention back to the phone as he heard William pick up.
"Fries?"
"Hi, William." Fries couldn't keep the smile off his face as he heard his father and best friend's voice.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm doing great."
"Excellent. Splendid. Where are you?"
"I was telling Mum that I don't remember."
William laughed. "Too much travelling?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Elizabeth asked, "What was it that you wanted to ask us?"
"It's nothing really pressing or important, but I wanted to ask if Jane and Charles have anything planned for their anniversary this coming year."
"Not that we know of, why?"
"Well Storm and I were planning a little something for them on that day and we wanted to make sure they kept the date free."
"I think we could manage that, don't you?"
"Sure. We won't be there of course," said William. "We'll be too busy doing... other things."
"Other things?" Elizabeth said in an arch tone. Fries could now hear their voices on each other's receivers so he assumed she was sitting on his lap.
He heard them kiss and William said, "Hmm hmm."
Fries, pleased to hear their amour on one level, but kind of embarrassed on another, said, "Uh... hello? In case you'd forgotten, I'm still here."
"We know, darling," said Elizabeth.
William chuckled. "By the way, how is your Jane?"
"Oh, she's doing fine I guess."
"You guess?"
"I haven't really spoken to her in quite a few days."
"Why not?"
"I dunno, just haven't."
"How do you feel about this girl?" asked William.
"She's nice."
"Nice doesn't cut it."
"I know. I just feel bad if I break up with her."
"But it's worse not being honest and doing it."
"I know all this, it's just hard to actually do it."
"Well, the sooner the better."
"Yes, yes, I know."
"So," said Elizabeth. "Do you have anything special coming up? Competitions, recordings?"
"No, not for a while. I'm trying to scale back a bit right now and take a breather."
"That's a good idea."
"You know," said William. "You're always welcome here."
"I know. It's just kind of hard to go home, and there's all these kids there I don't know, and they're so much younger than me and everything."
"You used to be that age."
"I know, but it's different when you're 24 and you're looking at them thinking that you used to be one of them."
"Maybe it's a bit like me looking at you and thinking I used to be your age, too," said William.
"I'm sorry, but I really can't picture you being my age."
"I bet you can't. I was very, very different from you."
"Should I take it as a compliment?"
"Yes," said Elizabeth. "You should."
"Hey, how should you know?" argued William.
"I've heard enough about you to know," she replied.
"Look, you two," said Fries. "You carry on together. I need to go soon."
"All right. We love you very much," said Elizabeth.
"I love you too. Oh, and don't let Jane and Charles know you're into anything, okay?"
"We got it. Mum's the word," she said.
"Keep in touch, son."
"I will. Bye."
Fries hung up.
"Still a couple of lovers taking care of a house full of children?" asked Storm.
"Yep," Fries replied, smiling. "And I love them all the more for it."
"When are you going to talk to Jane and Charles?"
"I'll do it sometime tomorrow so as to leave some kind of gap."
"Okay." She went back into the store upon hearing the bell above the door jingle.
Fries looked down at the pad of paper where he had scribbled the names Ron had told him. He could see that Harry Potter was popular among the kids. They still tended to pick names they knew from favourite books and movies. Fries had been unusual to pick his name from something else. Of course, Fries as a name in general is quite unusual.
Storm poked her head in. "Taylor's here."
"I'm coming."
He walked out of the office.
Stacy was walking up Charing Cross to pick up some groceries in Sainsbury's on Tottenham Court Road when a man walked out of Borders and bumped into her so hard she fell down. Unfortunately, there was tree planted in a square space in the pavement. In the dirt square surrounding the tree, a deep puddle had formed from the last rainfall. It was into this that Stacy fell, immediately soaking her bottom and most of her black trousers.
"Oh my G**! I am so sorry!" said the man.
Stacy was about to say something really rude when she looked up and saw the handsome face looking down at her.
The man reached a hand down to help her up. "Are you hurt?" he asked with some concern.
"No," she said.
"I'm so terribly sorry."
"It's okay, really. I'm fine. Just a little... wet."
"Why don't we go into that Pret A Manger and I'll get you some tea or coffee or something to make up for it?"
"Can I have a rain check on that? I'd just like to get dry."
"Of course. Shall I give you a lift home?"
"No, I work just down this road."
"Really? Where?"
"Wild Iris bookshop."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Just an accident."
"I'm Martin, by the way."
"I'm Stacy. I would say it's nice to meet you, but... under the circumstances..."
He laughed a little. "I understand. Well," he paused, "You go get dry. Hey, if there's some kind of cleaning bill for your clothes, here's my business card. Send the bill to me and I'll pay for it."
She took the card and put it in her shirt pocket. She didn't want to put it in her trouser pockets where it was sure to get ruined. "Thank you."
"Again, I'm really sorry."
Stacy laughed. "Honestly, don't worry about it. Good bye."
"Bye."
She walked away a little gingerly, aware that he must be watching her, and also aware that she must look very silly. At least she was wearing black and it didn't show much at all.
As quickly as possible she walked to Wild Iris. She always had several changes of clothes kept there for the times that Ana put on something Stacy couldn't stand wearing.
"Tomorrow, let's go to Camden Lock Market," Storm said on Friday evening
"Where is that?" asked Fries.
"It's a little bit north of here. We'll have to take the tube or the bus. Have you ever been on one of London's famous double decker buses?"
"No."
"We'll have to go by bus, then. It's an experience you can't miss."
"Is Ana okay with having the store to herself on Saturday?"
"I've asked Taylor if he would help her out."
"He doesn't mind?"
"No. He likes working at Wild Iris. Sometimes."
So the following morning, Storm slept in until nine, and then got up, dressed, and had breakfast. Fries had been up for a while and was busy fiddling with his guitar again, this time with music.
They took the number 216 bus up to Camden Town, sitting on the top level.
"So what's in Camden Town?" asked Fries, as he looked out of the window at this part of London.
"Camden Lock Market."
"What's Camden Lock Market?"
"Several markets in the same area filled with all different sorts of things. Really cheap stuff, really weird stuff, touristy stuff, and arts and crafts stuff."
She had basically described it all, Fries discovered. The first market they walked into was all stalls put up for the weekend. Shoes sold for five pounds, sweaters and trousers for ten pounds, CDs for seven pounds. However Fries wasn't quite sure that the merchandise would be very good quality, or even legal.
The next market they wandered through was more of an arts and crafts kind of place. One sold homemade candles, another sold paintings. Fries lingered for a while at the used bookstall, but didn't see anything he liked. Storm almost bought a stained glass frame, until Fries reminded her that she didn't have any windows to hang it in at her flat.
Fries bought a homemade leather-bound journal for Jane, intending to send her something even if they did break up. Storm bought a candle that looked like a banana for Ana.
They went to a market across the street consisting of cheaper things. They passed a small stall selling Chinese food. Storm looked at Fries. He shrugged. They bought some and took it to the picnic tables in the back.
Storm shooed the pigeons and sat down. After a few minutes, she asked him, "Is it any good?"
"It looks better than it tastes, but it's okay."
She nodded in agreement.
A few minutes later, "Do you want to continue looking around here or go home?"
"Is it more of the same stuff?"
"Pretty much. It goes on for a while."
"Are you looking for something in particular?"
"Not really. If I see something I like I might buy it, but I don't need anything."
A group of young teenagers passed them dressed as Goths. Fries leaned on his elbows, his head cradled in his hands, looking at them, and then at Storm. She looked up and noticed his scrutiny.
"What?"
"You used to look like that."
"Yes, I did."
"Were you part of a whole crowd of them like that?"
"Not in my school, no. I was the trendy freak."
"Were you happy with Mum?"
Storm nodded. "I was tremendously happy with her."
"What did you think of William at first?"
Storm smiled softly. "I actually heard of him from Elizabeth long before I ever met him. Years before I met him actually. When she first started taking food to him, she would come home and rant and rave about how difficult and stubborn and rude he was."
"Really?"
"Come on, surely you knew this! You were in the middle of it."
"I was a kid, Storm. I was still reeling from my past. I don't know how, but I saw something in William and became almost immediately attached to him. After that, Elizabeth would never rant and rave in my hearing. So when you first met him what did you think?"
"By the time I did meet him, I'd heard a lot about him from you and a little from Elizabeth. So of course I had to like him, but it wasn't like I ever expected him to be anything more than the best friend of my foster brother."
"When did you suspect what William really felt about Mum?" asked Fries.
"At the wedding actually."
"Yeah, me too. It was like he couldn't hide it that day."
"Actually, when I was in that big funk, and you were complaining about me playing loud music and you told William-"
"I did not."
"Oh, come on. How else would he have found his way on the third floor?"
Fries pouted.
"To get me to talk to him at all, he had to promise to answer any question I had, and so I took the opportunity to ask him about his accident and whether he loved Elizabeth."
"You're joking!" gasped Fries.
Storm grinned mischievously. "I took him at his word when he said I could ask him anything."
"What did he say?"
"He said he did. So I asked him why he didn't do anything about it and he said Elizabeth didn't love him."
"Did you think she did at the time?"
"I didn't know if Elizabeth loved him then, but I told him otherwise. He didn't believe me."
"Wow."
"Well you must have been more involved in their getting together earlier."
"Maybe."
They got up and threw the remains of their food away.
"Admit it, you did."
"All right, I'll take credit for bringing our parents together."
They continued to wander through the markets, wriggling through the increasing crowds.
Fries asked her, "Why did you act so rebellious?"
"I wasn't intentionally rebelling against Elizabeth or anything, I just didn't want to conform to the norm. You never went to high school, so you don't know what it was like. There were these cliques and you had to act like them and dress like them and date them to be them. And I hated it. So I did my own thing. Actually, usually my thing was what their thing wasn't."
"Do you think I'm worse off because I never went to school after I went to the Bennet Mansion?"
"Well, I understood at first why Elizabeth decided that. You were in no shape or form ready for school for some time. You didn't know anything really."
"Thanks," he said, sarcastically.
"And you were really socially inept."
"Don't spare my feelings or anything."
"But look how far you've come!"
"Is that a compliment?"
"Fries, you're a f***in' concert pianist."
"Oh yeah, that's right. That's not a normal thing," he said sarcastically.
"Especially for someone who started at age 7 or 8 or however old you were."
"I guess that shows you how a tortured childhood can change a person."
By this time they had wandered onto the footbridge crossing the canal that wound through Camden Town. Storm paused and asked him, "What happened to you?"
They had never talked about each other's pasts before really.
Fries leaned on the railing of the bridge and looked down into the canal. "I don't remember much. I remember I had a foster mother who tried to care for me, but her husband would beat her and me. Mum said one day I was being beaten again and my foster mother called the police. He put her in intensive care that night. Mum told me a couple of years ago that my foster father was put in jail and my foster mother divorced him."
"Do you know anything about your real parents?"
Fries shook his head. "What do you know about yours?"
"Don't know who my father was. Don't think my mother knew which guy it was either. She was an alcoholic and I was constantly being placed in different homes, shifting around, occasionally living with my mother again whenever she wasn't too drunk or in jail. Eventually someone convinced her to give me up forever. Said she would save money that way. By the time I was 13, I was a terror. I was a thief, I was mean, I didn't care about anyone. I hated Elizabeth. She was too nice and too easy. And Jane was even worse. She would often have to protect the other kids from me." Storm laughed self-deprecatingly. "I honestly believe Elizabeth is the most incredible person in the world. I can't understand how she put me back on my feet. I don't know what tricks she used or psychological games. Just gradually I felt the anger sliding away. I began to find things I enjoyed doing, things to behave for. Once Elizabeth had me attached to certain things, she taught me how if I didn't behave I wouldn't get to do those things. And slowly, I turned into a more normal person."
Fries looked at her, smiling. Storm looked back at him. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.
She shoved him and started walking off the bridge. Fries caught up with her. "Do you ever wish to get back in touch with your real mother?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't trust myself with what I would do to her."
"Really?"
"Hell yeah! I can totally see myself getting violent with her! She ruined my life."
"But if she hadn't given you up, then you'd have had a very different life. No Elizabeth, no William, no Anastasia... no me!"
"Exactly! I'd have had a happier life!" she teased. Then seriously, "I know I'd have had a different life, but don't you ever dream you had a normal family? Biological mother and father, brothers, sisters?"
"Not really. I'm just grateful I have Mum and William."
They walked to the bus stop and took the bus to Tottenham Court Road, walking the rest of the way to Wild Iris.
When they walked in, Taylor said, "Guess who's back from the vet!"
"Colonel! Where is he?"
Anastasia picked up a calico cat from the sofa and handed him to Storm's outstretched arms. "How is my baby?" murmured Storm, burying her face in the soft fur.
"I didn't know you had a cat."
Anastasia explained, "If you'd been observant, you'd have seen the litter box in the back and the box of food in the cupboard."
She was Stacy.
Fries didn't reply to her. He asked Storm, "His name is Colonel?"
"Colonel Fitzwilliam to be exact, but we just call him Colonel."
"Why has he been in at the vet?"
"He hadn't been doing well for a while and finally he had an operation a few days ago and they had to keep him until he recovered from it." To the cat, she cooed, "You had to stay in that awful place for so long, didn't you? Well, you're home now."
She sat down on the sofa with the Colonel in her lap. "Good business today?" asked Storm.
"Pretty good," said Taylor.
"Where's West?"
"He's doing our laundry today."
"I need to do mine soon."
"What are we going to do tonight?"
"Why don't we see some theatre?" said Stacy.
"Anything you have in mind?"
"There's that play Art."
"I've already seen it," said Taylor.
"When?"
"A couple of months ago."
"What are you in the mood for? Comedy, drama, Shakespeare?"
"A good classic play," said Storm.
"There's Cat On a Hot Tin Roof playing in one of the theatres on Shaftesbury Avenue," said Taylor. "I've heard it's pretty good. Southern accents and everything."
"I'd go see that," said Storm. "Fries?"
"Sure."
"Do you want to call West and tell him?" asked Stacy.
"I'll do that now."
"How will you get tickets?" asked Fries.
"If we go early, we can get fairly good seats. They rarely sell out after the first few weeks."
"Where is it?" asked Taylor.
"Look in Time Out."
Stacy pulled out the magazine and started to flip through it. She found what she was looking for. "It's at the Lyric Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue at 7:30."
Taylor called West and informed him of the plans. Storm handed the Colonel to Fries.
"Storm."
"What?" she stopped and looked at him.
"What do I do with it?"
"With the cat? You sit down and put him in your lap and pet him. Come on, you remember Magic. He's just as affectionate."
Fries gingerly sat down and gently placed the cat in his lap. The Colonel sat there contentedly. Fries began to stroke his soft fur. He could feel him purring beneath his hand.
Stacy said, "At least he has a way with animals if not people."
Storm turned on her. "Stacy, what's your problem?"
"No problem."
"Then stop being rude to Fries!"
"He needs someone to be rude to him. He's probably gone soft from all the star treatment."
"What star treatment?" asked Fries. "Who do you think I am? Some kind of pop musician? No one outside of the classical world knows me. Name me one pianist you've heard in concert."
Stacy couldn't.
"I would hardly think I have much opportunity to get spoiled in my career. I'm not above the rest of the concert pianists, so I'll never end up much."
Stacy just decided to get online and check her email.
Taylor walked behind her to get a pad of paper from the counter. "Didn't you just check your email twenty minutes ago?"
"Someone might have sent me something since then."
That evening they went to the play. West bought the tickets an hour beforehand, then went to Wild Iris. Together they went to the Lyric and sat down in the Edwardian theatre.
"Are all the theatres in the West End like this one?" asked Fries.
"A lot of them."
"It's beautiful. It's like out of the Victorian era."
"A little later than that, actually, but it looks similar. The golden age of theatre building."
Stacy had apparently decided to stop being rude to Fries. She leaned over West and said, "You should go to the Cottesloe or the Round Theatre."
"Why, what are they like?"
"Black boxes. But they're better for real theatre because the stage can be made in the round, thrust, or the usual style like this one."
Fries looked at Storm. "She lost me."
"Theatre in the round is where the stage is in the middle and the audience is on all sides. Thrust is where you have the audience on three sides. This is the most common experience of theatre, with the fourth wall and the play up on the stage."
"The fourth wall?"
Taylor explained, "The fourth wall is where the actors play characters who act like no one is watching. Plays where they address and talk to the audience, like A Day in the Death of Joe Egg, break down the fourth wall."
Fries nodded, understanding.
The performance started. It was actually really well done. Fries didn't know what he had expected, but the actors conveyed real emotion. He didn't know the play, he'd only heard of it. One of the famous Tennessee Williams plays. But he liked it. The actors occasionally slipped out of the Southern accent and Fries heard their British accents, but otherwise it was very good.
During the intermission, they each got a cup of ice cream. They sat in their seats discussing the play.
"Would you tell Big Daddy he's going to die?" asked West.
"I wouldn't," said Fries.
"But that's the worst deception possible."
"Not as bad as knowing you're going to die and having to wait for it."
The debate continued until the intermission ended and the play resumed.
After the play, West and Taylor walked Stacy home.
"Storm?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know who Martin Hurley is?"
"No. Why?"
"I found his business card in one of my shirt pockets."
"Does it have his email?"
"Yeah."
"Then email him."
"What do I say?"
"Just say you found his business card and were wondering why."
Ana pulled up the email account and wrote a brief email to this mystery person asking for an explanation.
"I've managed to contact fifteen former foster children of Elizabeth so far," said Fries.
"Good. Could they all make it?"
"All of them said it would go on their calendar and they would make every effort to come."
"Excellent. What kind of people are they now?"
"I only really talked to one of them. She's a mother of two now."
"How sweet. Did you ask her to bring her family?"
"Yeah."
"Keep track of numbers, could you? The closer we can come to a headcount the better it will be to plan everything."
"Storm?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember that odd business card I found?"
"Sort of," she lied.
"You told me to email the man and ask him."
"Yeah I remember."
"Well, we've been emailing each other quite a bit now."
Storm looked up, her interest piqued now. "How did that happen?"
"He said he didn't know how it could have got into my hands. I had mentioned that I found it after I got back from Cat On a Hot Tin Roof and he wrote back asking me how was the play. He wanted to take a friend of his or something to see it and wanted to know if it was any good. I told him what I thought about it, and then after he saw it, he emailed me again saying thank you. I emailed back asking him what he thought of it, and we started a conversation back and forth about theatre."
"Does Stacy know about it?"
"No."
"Are you going to tell her?"
"Not now."
"Why not?"
"I like having something that's all my own. He doesn't know about Stacy and Stacy doesn't know about him."
"You're being risky."
"I know. But Stacy does stuff all the time to me, I don't see why I can't have one harmless fling online."
"Fling?"
She blushed. "Figurative sense of the word."
"I see."
"Oh, and by the way, I've been using your email account."
"What??"
"If I don't want Stacy to find out about it, how else will I do that?"
"How do you know my password?"
"You always use the same one, doofus."
"Oh yeah."
"Just don't tell Stacy, okay?"
"All right."
*Ring* A handsome man dressed in a smart business suit walked into the store. He wasn't the usual kind of person Wild Iris attracted.
"Hi, can I help you?"
"Is Stacy here?"
"She's not in today, would you like to leave her a message?"
"No, thanks. I'll try again some other time."
*Ring*
"Did you recognize him?" asked Ana.
"No."
"I wonder if I should be worried."
"Doubt it."
"F***! Here comes... Mr. Elson! Good morning."
"Good morning, Ms. Bennet, Ms. Smith."
"How are you?"
"Your feline pest was pissing on my shop yesterday."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Elson, you must be mistaken. The Colonel was inside all day yesterday."
"I am not mistaken! I saw that" he pointed to the Colonel laying on the couch "cat pissing on my shop."
"Very well, Mr. Elson. I will discipline the cat and he won't do it again."
"See that you do!"
He stormed out.
"Um, who was that?" asked Fries.
"Mr. Elson from next door. You know, the religious bookstore. He and his just as horrible and insufferable wife run it."
"Nasty neighbours, huh?"
"Our other neighbours are quite nice, actually. It's just the Elson's who are... more difficult to get along with."
Fries continued to play during lunches at Goa's. He liked it, it was relaxing and more rewarding in a way than playing in a concert. He gradually started to experiment with different kinds of music, sometimes improvising. He still felt guilty for hiding it from Storm. Occasionally she'd suggest they have lunch together and he'd have to find some excuse why he couldn't, which were few since he didn't do much all day except try and contact former foster children, practice for hours, and see London.
One afternoon however:
Taylor had brought a client out to lunch. There were two women and a man.
"This is a lovely place," one of them said.
"Thanks," said Taylor. "I'm actually surprised that there's piano playing. There hasn't before, but I haven't been here in several months."
"Do you think he would do requests?"
"I could ask if you like." Anything to keep the clients happy. "What would you like?"
"Ask him if he knows "My Way", the Frank Sinatra song."
Taylor excused himself from the table and walked over to the piano. He stopped short, then walked up to the piano.
"Good Lord! Fries!"
Fries looked up, and was just as surprised to see Taylor.
"What are you doing here?" asked Fries, as he kept on playing.
"I've brought some clients out to lunch. What are you doing?"
"I'm playing."
"Do you do this often?"
"I play for two hours during lunch here everyday."
"Wow. I had no idea. Is this your fill-in job while you're not playing concerts?"
"No, actually. Don't tell Storm but.... Well have you ever eaten at her place?"
"A few times."
"Her diet is a bit too meager for me. I need something more to keep my energy going all day. I can't afford to eat out everyday, so instead I play here for two hours and they feed me."
"Really?"
Fries nodded.
Taylor listened for a while. Then he said, "You're good."
Fries smiled wryly. "Thanks."
"Hey, would you mind coming over and talking to my clients for a bit? You know, make a good impression and make me look good?"
"I'd love to. So stories about our adventures on weekends are out, huh?" Fries teased.
"Yeah. And so is my sexual orientation," he added seriously.
"Fine."
Fries finished the song with a flourish. A few people clapped and he nodded his head in thanks. He stood and followed Taylor to a table in the corner of the room.
Taylor said to the three clients, "It turns out the pianist is a good friend I see almost every night. I had no idea he was playing here. This is Fries Bennet."
"How do you do?" said Fries.
"I know that name," said one of the ladies. "Did you ever do a concert in Blackpool?"
Fries flashed one of his dashing smiles. "Ma'am, I've played in so many places I have lost track. It is quite possible I played there."
"I think it was you. It was a marvelous concert."
"Thank you," Fries replied, with a short bow.
Taylor said, "They were wondering if they could make a request."
"I should be able to oblige."
"Do you know the song Frank Sinatra sings, "My Way"?"
"I do know it, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be the same as hearing him sing it."
"Could you play it then?"
"Certainly, ma'am," Fries made another short bow and then returned to the piano to do a more embellished version of "My Way".
That night, Taylor rolled over in bed and poked West in the arm. Nothing. He poked again.
"What is it?" West mumbled.
"Guess who I saw at Goa's today at lunch?"
"Taylor, it's too late for guessing games."
Taylor pulled his partner over onto his back and then propped himself above West's head, looking down at him. "You'll never guess, so I'll tell you."
"Please do so I can go back to sleep."
"Fries was playing the piano there."
"Fries?"
"Yep. He was entertaining the guests eating lunch. I asked him about it and he said he plays there for two hours everyday at lunch and gets a meal out of it."
West was more awake now. "Why would he do it?"
"He seems to enjoy it, but he also said that he doesn't get fed well enough at Storm's, so he plays the piano for extra food."
"I thought he would be wealthy enough to eat out all he wants."
"Apparently concert pianists aren't as rich as we thought."
"Huh."
"But don't tell Storm."
"Why?"
"I don't think Fries wanted her to find out so she wouldn't feel bad about it."
"Okay."
"He was nice enough to come over and talk to my clients for a few minutes."
"Well Fries is that kind of guy."
"And one of my clients recognized him from a concert he'd done."
"So he is a little famous."
"And then he played my clients a song they requested."
"Out of all this, you greatly impressed your clients?"
"I did. My boss is going to be thrilled."
"Maybe you should take more of your clients out to Goa's. Bribe Fries to entertain your guests."
Taylor knew West was being facetious, but the idea struck him. "That's actually a good idea." He laid his head down on West's chest, who brought his arm around Taylor. "Do you think he would do it?"
"Fries? Sure I think he would. He's a really nice guy."
"Handsome too."
"Not as handsome as you."
Taylor lifted his head to look at West again, smiling. "You just say that because you love me."
"What's wrong with that? Everyone has their biases."
Taylor kissed him and then laid his head back down. "I think I'll ask him tomorrow."
"As you said earlier, don't let Storm find out."
"I feel kind of bad now, doing this behind her back."
"Do you honestly think she'd give a d**n?"
"No, but I still feel bad about it."
"I'm sleeping now."
"Good night."
"Good night... again."
"Guess who Taylor saw at lunch yesterday?"
"I don't know, the cookie monster?" replied Stacy.
"No, Fries."
"So?"
"He was playing the piano, entertaining the lunch guests."
"That's kind of neat."
"Taylor talked to him and Fries said he plays everyday for two hours there in return for a meal because he doesn't get fed enough at Storm's."
Stacy laughed at this. "You've got to admit he finds ways around difficulties."
Suddenly the Colonel jumped up into his arms. West caught him. "Hey there, buddy. You missed me?"
He petted the cat and slouched into the sofa.
"Hold the fort down while I go ask Storm something, will you?"
West nodded, and began to coo at the cat, talking baby talk to him.
Stacy went into the back office. She pulled out a file from the bookshelves and looked up the numbers. "When were you wanting to do the inventory?"
"Next week sometime."
"Just give Ana and I some warning, okay?"
"I know."
There was a long pause as Stacy continued to scribble down numbers. Then she said, "So I heard that Fries is playing in restaurants now. Big step down for him, isn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't?" Stacy looked up to see if Storm was being sarcastic or what.
"No."
"West said that Taylor saw Fries entertaining guests yesterday at Goa's. He asked him about it, and it turns out that Fries plays there during lunch for two hours everyday in return for a meal."
"A meal?"
"Turns out you don't feed him enough."
"Really?"
"Something like that. Anyway, I'm done here. I'll be in the store."
Storm was left to reflect how much Fries did eat at her flat. She did tend to have a smaller appetite than most people do. And also admitted to herself that she had an unusual diet, as well. But why didn't he tell her?
"Because I didn't want you to react like you are now. Hurt, insulted, upset. I like playing there, it's been a learning experience, and I get good food out of it. I already feel like I'm a burden to you, staying here for so long. This way I was feeding myself to some extent."
"But... but... why didn't you tell me?" whined Storm.
"I'm sorry. I should have, I suppose. I just didn't want you to feel bad. I'm bigger than you are, need more food, but I didn't want to cost you more money."
Storm pouted.
"Forgive me?" pleaded Fries, going on bended knee.
How could she say no? "Fine," she said. "Next time something like this happens, tell me."
"I will, I promise."
*Ring*
"Hi, can I help you?"
"Is Stacy here?"
"Yeah, hang on." Storm poked her head into the back room. "Stacy, there's someone here for you."
"Who?"
"I don't know. He's been in here once before looking for you."
"He?"
"Yeah."
Stacy stood up and went into the store.
The man came forward. He saw that she didn't recognize him, so he said, "Hi. You're looking much drier than the last time I saw you."
Dawning recognition. She laughed. "Hi."
"Hello. You never called or anything for that coffee, so I decided to track you down."
"I'm sorry, I actually lost the card. I think it went through the wash by mistake."
"I understand. You must have been concentrating on getting the mud stains out."
She laughed again. "Must have been it."
"Are you free to go for coffee now, or some time?" he asked.
Stacy looked over at Storm who said, "You can go ahead. I'll be fine here."
"Oh, this is my partner, Storm."
"Nice to meet you," the man said.
"Likewise," replied Storm, shaking his hand.
"Shall we go then?" he asked Stacy.
"Let me just get my jacket and my wallet."
Storm followed her to the back room. "Who is he?" asked Storm.
"I literally bumped into him a few weeks ago and I fell in a puddle. He was so kind and apologetic and he wanted to take me out to coffee, but since I my trousers were soaking wet I asked for a raincheck."
"A name, maybe?" she asked.
"Oh, um Mark, I think."
"You think?"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine. If I'm not back in two hours, send out the brigade."
She walked out of the office and then out of Wild Iris with the man. Storm watched and saw which way they went at least.
Winter descended quickly that year and Fries had to ask Jane to send him his warm clothes. When they finally arrived, Storm sat and watched him unpack them.
"So what's the deal between you and Jane?"
"I don't know."
"She sends you your clothes, but I've never heard you call her and rarely speak of her."
"I know."
"So what's the deal?"
"I don't know." Fries concentrated on hanging up and folding his clothes.
"What is she like?"
"She's short, has long brown hair, and plays the cello in the Chicago Symphony Orchestra."
"How did you meet her?"
"At the conservatory."
"How long have you been dating?"
"About a year and a half."
"And how long have you felt so apathetic about her?"
"About a year and a half."
"Fries! Why?"
"It was convenient. Nice. Pleasant. No hassles, no worries. Not single."
"And it doesn't bother you that you don't love her?"
"I've never experienced love, so I don't know what I'm missing."
"Haven't you read books about it and stuff?"
"That's just in books."
"Don't you want what Elizabeth and William have?"
"Yeah, but I don't know how to find it."
"You don't find love! It just happens. Out of the blue it'll hit you, and you won't know it until it's too late."
"Have you been in love then?"
"I thought I was."
"With who?"
"I don't want to talk about."
"It's okay to talk about and tear apart my love life, but it's not okay to discuss yours?"
"Fries look at me." He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. Very calmly and slowly, she said, "I don't want to talk about it."
There was something in her face that spoke pain, and he understood that talking about it would bring her suffering.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "We won't speak of it, then."
Neither spoke for a while. He finished unpacking and then squashed the box down to be stuffed underneath the couch and saved for later use.
Then suddenly she said, "Would you marry her?"
He paused to consider the question before he replied, "No."
"Then you should break up with her. It's only fair to her."
"But what would I do then? I'd have to find someone new. Jane and I've been together for so long that I don't remember how to find a partner."
"I told you, you don't have to find them. It should happen naturally."
"I'll think about it."
"No, Fries, don't think about it. Do it."
"But what if she's really in love with me?"
"If you don't know the answer to that question, then she probably doesn't love you that much."
"That's kind of insulting."
"No, it's not. Love can't be forced. It happens or it doesn't. Talk to William about it if you don't believe me."
"Maybe I will."
"Just don't let it drag on forever. It doesn't help anything."
Storm started to prepare a meal.
"What's for supper?" asked Fries.
"Baked potatoes and sausages."
"You know, don't start feeding me more than you did before. Then it would upset the balance and I would be having too much to eat."
"Fine. But you're eating this because I've already started."
"Fine."
West bounded into Wild Iris one late afternoon startling the Colonel, who ran to the back room.
"We're going to watch the Germans get their a**** whooped!"
"What?"
"You wanna come?"
"Explain yourself more clearly," commanded Stacy.
"The football game in Munich, Germany vs. England. We're going to watch it tonight. Lots of junk food and fun. Do you want to join in?"
"Who is we?"
"Me, Taylor, any of you who want to come, and our three neighbours."
Storm looked at Fries who shrugged. "Sure," she said.
After Storm and Stacy had closed Wild Iris, the three of them walked to West and Taylor's flat. Inside, they found the place decorated with Union Jacks and crosses of St. George. West was in the kitchen cooking some kind of munchables.
"Hello, come in, come in," cried Taylor.
Fries was surprised to see him in jeans and an England jersey. He couldn't remember ever seeing Taylor dressed casually before. It made quite a difference to him.
He took their coats and then ushered them into the living room, where two sofas and two armchairs had been pulled around the 48" screen. On the floor in front were a beanbag and a coffee table that had coasters and a bag of crisps on it.
It was a nice flat, probably costing several thousand pounds a month to let. Fries sat down at the kitchen to table to watch West.
West noticed him and said cheerfully, "Hello Fries."
"Hi."
"You up for a ripping game?"
"I guess."
"You guess? You're not into it, you need to get involved!"
"Why is this a big game? I don't know much about soccer."
"Football, it's called football."
"Sorry."
"This is a World Cup qualifier. You know what the World Cup is, right?"
Fries nodded. At least he knew that much.
"England's in a league with Albania, Greece, Germany, and one other team I think. And they're all competing to go to the World Cup. Right now, Germany is leading in points, but they only have one game after this and we have two. So we need to win, okay?"
"Okay."
"Plus on top of all that, the game is in Munich's Olympic Stadium, where Germany hasn't lost for 28 years. They've only lost one World Cup qualifier in the last 60. Also, England has been staying in a hotel across from the loudest pub in Berlin while the Germans have been staying in the countryside where a cow is the most noise there is."
Taylor came to check on West and added, "On top of all that, there's this whole thing with the British and Germans. Which is history."
"So that's why this is a huge game," finished West.
The doorbell rang and Taylor went to go answer it. Someone smacked him across the head and Fries looked to see it was Storm. "So," she said, taking another seat at the table and biting into a potato skin. "West's been giving you the low down on the game, huh?"
Fries nodded.
"If you get bored you can go home."
"No way am I letting him go home before it's over," exclaimed West.
"Never mind," said Storm. "You have to stay. But you should like it."
"I don't know much about the game."
"You'll learn."
Three people came into the kitchen. Fries stood up as Taylor introduced Dixon, Cole, and Ford.
"How do you do?" said Fries, shaking their hands.
They seemed nice enough... straight... knowledgeable about the game....
Fries listened as they talked about it, debating over the lineup and whether Beckham, the captain, would be fully recovered from his injury.
"Can I help you with something?" Fries asked West.
"No, thanks. I've pretty much got everything under control. If you'd like to take those sausages out to the living room, that would be lovely."
Fries took them out there and found Stacy sitting there flipping the channels. He put the plate down on the table and asked Stacy, "Would Ana have wanted to watch the game?"
"She's not interested in sports as much as I am."
"Oh."
He didn't know what else to say, so he went back to the kitchen, where the noise was increasing.
Soon, Taylor came in to shoo them all into the living room as the game was about to start. Fries sat on the sofa next to Dixon with Storm sitting on the floor at his feet. He was about to offer her his seat when he remembered how she didn't like it. So instead he asked tactfully, "Are you comfortable down there?"
"I'm fine," she replied. "Thanks."
"Well do you want a cushion?"
"Sure."
He handed her one of the cushions and sat back, careful not to kick her.
"Shh, everyone, it's starting!"
They watched as the players walked in, each holding a little boy's hand in theirs. When the English national anthem was being sung, everyone in the room joined in. Except Fries, who didn't know the words. He only knew the tune to the words of 'My Country 'Tis Of Thee'.
Then the game began. Fries tried to follow along as the ball was passed from player to player, switching team often as one team lost possession.
"Look at Beckham's boots. They make him look funny."
"At least you can tell it's him, though."
"Look at it! They're making elementary mistakes!" shouted Cole.
Fries couldn't see what those elementary mistakes were.
Suddenly, six minutes into the game, Ballack lobbed the ball to Neuville who headed it down and Jancker, the tall German striker kicked it down into the goal with the sole of his foot, passing the English goalkeeper, Seaman. The German crowd went wild and Jancker did a victory dance in front of the barriers. The room, however, was in dumbstruck silence.
"F***!" Stacy broke the silence, and then everyone was yelling at the television.
The game resumed and six minutes later, Dizeler shoved Michael Owen, England's star young striker.
"Foul! Foul! Foul!" shouted Dixon, West and Stacy.
"Shut up, you guys, the ref's called it," said Storm.
Beckham took the free kick. A player headed it, another kicked it, and then it was headed to Barmby at the penalty spot who unselfishly headed it down to Owen, who sweetly sidekicked it into the back of the net.
Everyone jumped up and shouted and screamed. Even Fries, who had quickly found himself involved, as West had told him to do. Taylor frantically waved his England flag. As Michael Owen did a victory dance, West, Taylor, and Stacy wrapped arms around each others shoulders and began to sway and sing Rule Britannia.
After a few minutes when the play had resumed, they all sat down and watched the play again. Sixteen minutes into the first half, Beckham missed a free kick to the left side of the goal.
"Aaah! How could you have missed that!!" Ford yelled at the TV.
The score was still tied one to one with seventy minutes to go when the German Diezler shot from eight yards away from the goal and missed.
"Good G**!" exclaimed West. "How could you be an international player and miss that??"
The doorbell rang. Taylor got up to get it. Fries watched him and saw that it was a neighbour complaining about their noise. Taylor, however, just pulled the man in and said, "How could you not be watching this game? Take a seat."
The bewildered, middle aged man sat on a kitchen chair pulled into the living room. Two minutes and he was as into the game as the rest of the room. A German had passed to their keeper in the box. Owen had pressured the keeper who picked up the ball. Immediately his arms went up, protesting to the referee that he couldn't pick up a pass from his own player. Taylor and Ford added shouts of their own. This meant there was a free kick a couple of feet in front of the penalty spot. The Germans had to be backed up to the goal line to be ten feet away from the ball. Everyone was quiet as they watched the perfect goal scoring opportunity. Beckham took it again and shot to the left side of the wall, hitting the last man in the chest, winding him. He bounced back and Neville shot it over the goal. Groans and shouts ensued from the group watching it.
The next ten minutes were relatively uneventful. "Beer, Fries?"
"No thanks," he replied.
"Cole? Ford? Dixon?"
They all said yes.
"Whoever you are?"
The newcomer nodded as he continued to watch the game.
Then around the fortieth minute, Germany got four corner kicks in a row as the English defense couldn't seem to clear the ball upfield. Cole was shouting at the TV again. Suddenly, a shot from the top of the box came from the Germans. Somehow, and Fries couldn't possibly see how, Seaman saved it, pushing it out of bounds. He must have dropped to the ground faster than gravity. It was an incredible save! Everyone was up and shouting again.
They still hadn't sat down when the clock went into injury time. Seconds before the first half ended, Beckham had a break down the right side. A German player fouled him and Beckham slid forward on the ground. The referee called it, and Beckham took the free kick. He shot it and it bounced back to him. He lobbed it into the middle of the box where an English player headed it out to five yards above the box where Gerrard chested it down and drove it hard into the back of the net. The goal ending the first half made it 2 to 1, England.
More celebration was needed since England was now winning, and they had more time. During half time, people talked about the plays and started to place bets on the final score in light of the first half. England were definitely beginning to dominate after their first goal.
Two minutes into the second half, Beckham was again dribbling down the touchline. He crossed it to Heskey in the box, who headed it down for Owen to put his second goal past the keeper into the net. And off he ran in celebration again. He couldn't have been as wild and ecstatic as the fans in that flat. Taylor had flung himself into West's arms shouting, Stacy was swearing her pants off and Cole, Dixon and Ford were singing God Save the Queen along with the English fans at the stadium.
Fries heard the doorbell, and as West and Taylor were too busy to answer it, he got up and opened the door.
A lad of about eight stood there and said, "Mam said to please keep the noise down."
Taylor came over and said, "Never mind the noise, come look at this goal!" And he took the boy by the hand and dragged him over in time to see the replays of the magnificent goal, putting England up to the 3 - 1.
The boy was placed in the middle of the couch and was soon drinking sips of beer and watching the game some more. As soon as Storm saw the kid drinking, she snatched the glass away and hid it behind the sofa.
A few minutes after the third English goal, there was a skirmish. Storm laughed and said, "Did you see what Beckham said? I could see him say f*** you to the German player."
A minute later Heskey got a yellow card for a tackle from behind. He complained to the referee saying it was his first offense, but it was to no avail. Stacy and Cole consequently started to badmouth the ref.
Suddenly, Ballack had the ball at the top of the box.
"Stop him!" yelled Dixon, but no one was around to mark or challenge. He missed, sending the ball wide of the goal. It was another close, exciting play.
With twenty-five minutes to go in the game, Nick Barmby was replaced by McManaman. A minute later, Owen got the ball outside of the box and dribbled it forward, shooting it into the back left corner. Again everybody went wild!
"Pinch yourself please!" said the commentator on the television. "This is unbelievable!"
The score was now 4 - 1. It was a hat trick (three goals) for Michael Owen, star of the England team.
West said, "He's Liverpudlian!"
"He's what?" Fries asked Storm.
She explained, "He plays for the Liverpool team, which is West's favourite team."
Less than ten minutes later, Scholes passed the ball to Heskey in the box, who calmly took one touch and tucked it away beneath the keeper. Good Lord! Five goals to one in Germany!!!
Fries was up off his seat as soon as it hit the net. He wasn't as quick as the others, who had been up as soon as it got to Heskey. Imagine Fries' shock when Storm flung her arms around his neck and screamed. He hung onto her and swung her around a few times. He put her down in time to see the replays. No one could believe it. England was creaming Germany with decisive goals.
Things soon calmed down and Gerrard, the one to equalise the score, went off as Hargreaves took his place. Hargreaves played for the Munich club team, so he was playing in front of his home crowd in a sense. The German player Hamann got a well deserved yellow card for constantly fouling an English player.
By the 80th minute, German fans were leaving the stadium in disbelief and disappointment. Well... maybe disappointment is a bit of an understatement. Even to the very last, England was making attacks. Beckham had a go on goal in the 90th minute, which failed. Then after a few minutes of overtime, the Italian referee blew his whistle and the game was over.
An incredible, unbelievable win that would go down in history as one of the greatest games. Everyone was up on their feet talking about the game.
"What'd you think of it?" asked Storm, with a saucy grin.
"I couldn't help getting into it," Fries replied.
"This game is a truly extraordinary game. I'm glad you got to watch it."
"Me too."
Fries was attacked from behind as a rather drunk West leaned on him and said, "Excellent game, huh?"
"Yes, splendid game."
After half an hour of celebrating and carousing, the neighbours went home, and the others cleaned up the mess left behind.
"Thank you for hosting this," said Fries to Taylor.
"I'm thrilled it was so great a game. It kind of shows you how much better football is to any other sport in the world."
"It showed me that did it?"
"Of course! Football is the best sport in the world."
"If you like."
"You don't agree with me? You think American football is better, with all their padding and their ten minute coffee breaks between plays?"
"I'm really not familiar with many sports at all."
Storm came up behind him and slung an arm around his neck, leaning on him affectionately. "He was brought up a pansy."
"No I was not."
"He learned the arts instead of the usual male activities."
"Well you know what I think about all that," said Taylor.
"I do," she replied, smiling at him. To Fries she said, "Shall we go home?"
He nodded.
"We'll swing by Anastasia's place and drop Stacy off first."
"I'm surprised Ana didn't show up."
"I was sad she had to miss the game," added Storm.
They left Taylor and West's flat and walked home. Every now and then they saw groups of people celebrating the tremendous victory.
"I'm on this amazing high that I can't seem to come down from," observed Stacy.
"Just give it time," Storm said. "You'll come crashing down."
"I don't want to come down."
"You don't have a choice."
After they had left Stacy safely in her flat, Storm and Fries walked home.
"I wonder what the Germans are doing tonight."
"Getting just as drunk as the English but with a different purpose."
Storm laughed. "True."
"Isn't it damaging to relations between the two countries to have rivalries like this?"
"Not at all. It's all in good fun."
Fries just nodded and dug his hands into his pockets, bracing himself against the cold wind.
"Did you forget your scarf there?" she asked.
He realized he wasn't wearing it, hence why he was so cold. "I guess so. I'll just ask West or Taylor to bring it by Wild Iris sometime." After a pause, "Is West the one who does the cooking?"
"They're both cooks. They both enjoy it and they're both pretty good at it."
"They still make me laugh sometimes at how totally different they are, yet they're in love."
"I know. I've often wondered what they see in each other."
When they got home, Fries crashed on the sofa.
"Come on, Fries," said Storm. "You can't go to sleep now, you need to pull out the bed first."
He groaned and got up. She helped him pull the bed out and then got ready for bed herself. Fries crawled under the covers and was asleep before she'd come out of the bathroom.