Thorsten Nyland

“Hij jou niet!” Dat was toch duidelijk?  "Hij gaat jou nooit willen zien, jij bent een gemene heks en Bartie is een prins!” De vrouw was vast slim genoeg om te bedenken dat gemene heksen en dappere prinsen elkaar nooit aardig gingen vinden. 

Zomer 1842 -> George's huis -> ergens wanneer Priscilla met Bartie wilt chillen
 
Lea begreep niet waarom de enge vrouw steeds terug naar hun huis kwam. Bartie had laten weten dat hij het niet wilde! Ze begreep ook niet waarom George de vrouw bleef binnenhalen. Het enige wat ze kon bedenken was dat haar adoptievader vervloekt was. Wat niet heel raar was, ze hadden ooit ontdekt dat Barties moeder de gemene heks uit sprookjesboeken was.
 
Nu George vervloekt was, zag Lea het als haar taak om haar familie te redden van de heks. Dus toen ze Priscilla even in de gang zag staan, waarschijnlijk onderweg om terug de woonkamer in te gaan en Bartie lastig te vallen, zag ze haar kans.
 
"Jij moet weg," deelde ze kil mee aan de vrouw en staarde haar strak aan. (Dat vonden mensen eng, had ze gelezen)
 
Prive <3

'Then next time we make sure it's all of us.' It was that simple, wasn't it? Sure, it was great meeting up with them individually, but if it made others feel bad, then maybe it should've be left till school, when there was no other choice when one of them was in class. Easy as that. Maybe she was a bit too naïve or easy in thinking this way, but it seemed a good enough solution, and if it'd improve Pen's mood, well, even better.
'As long as you're certain! It definitely can't hurt to be prepared.' It was one of the reasons why she loved doing it herself, from time to time. It wasn't good to do it a lot, after all, because there had to be spontaneity in life. Still, if Penelope was sure she wasn't going to refuse her. All she wanted was for her not to get disappointed in case it didn't give her the results she wanted. But to be prepared for the inevitable also was a good choice, so, well, they'd have to set a date.
 
'You have to try that one on, Pen!' Fi exclaimed as soon as Penelope spotted the dress. 'It's so perfect, and I'm sure it'll look even better on. Go on, try!' She'd happily wait fitting her own dress, because she did not want to miss any second of Penelope trying hers on. The effect was stunning, and if that was only on a mannequin? It could only get better.

Tja, hoe zag hij de toekomst voor zich... Hij kon daar wel over nadenken, maar dan kwam je in fantasieën terecht, in dromen, en hoe leuk die ook waren, op dit moment was het veel belangrijker om realistisch te zijn. Wat hij wilde en wat hij oprecht vond dat hij moest doen, dat waren twee hele andere ideeën. Met een diepe zucht pakte hij Sascha's hand vast. 
 
"Ik heb geen baan," zei hij zachtjes, terwijl hij zijn blik op haar hand gevestigd hield. "Ik heb nog steeds geen idee wat ik nu wil qua werk. Ik dacht dat ik mijn hele leven met Zwerkbal bezig zou kunnen, maar dat is gewoon niet zo en verder..." Hij haalde zijn schouders op. "Ik heb niet gestudeerd, ik heb nooit een baantje gehad en ik weiger mijn ouders te vragen om een baan bij Nebula. Maar zonder baan, zonder carrière, kan ik niet trouwen." 
 
Het ging niet om wat hij wilde, herhaalde hij streng in zichzelf, het ging om wat hij moest doen. 

Ja, oef. Hij hoorde de helft van wat Sascha's moeder nog tegen haar zei (ze had niet echt bepaald een zachte stem) en vertrok zijn gezicht, want au, dat maakte het allemaal nog pijnlijker. 
 
Bah, hij had echt een hekel aan serieuze gesprekken. 
 
Hij omhelsde Sascha. "We hebben nou nog steeds niet gehoord hoe ze daar nou zo precies op kwam," lachte hij, half, maar ach, zelfs als ze geen aanleiding had gehad, had ze nog steeds gelijk, hè? "Denk dat we hier maar eens over moeten gaan praten," zuchtte hij. "Over... de toekomst." 
 
Bah. Kon alles niet gewoon hetzelfde blijven? 

'So,' Fiore said, still not quite sure what brought this all on, but also too afraid to ask. 'Dynamics change, but it's not necessarily better or worse with or without someone, is it?' Maybe it was different when it came to someone you were in love with - all the books she read definitely said as much, but as far as Fi was aware, nor Ari, nor Pen, nor herself were in love with one of their friendgroup. Sure, she might be mistaken, but if it was the case, they certainly hadn't told her. And that was okay, for Fi was well aware of the fact that it was frowned upon. She, after all, hadn't shared herself that she was attracted to both men and women. Wasn't sure she ever would, to be honest.
 
'If you want?' Fi stared at Penelope, wondering what was going on in her mind. Sure, they were getting older, and sure, they had to get a move on, but Pen didn't believe in crystals and cards and divination. And what if she got results she didn't want to get? Maybe she had to consult Ari on this, on what to do if that was the case. Should they lie? 'Do you want it to be done soon, then? If you're all certain about this?'

Hij fronste, terwijl hij naar Sascha en haar moeder keek, want kijk, hij begreep heus wel dat hun relatie misschien een beetje... raar was in vergelijking met hoe een relatie normaal gesproken hoorde te gaan, maar eerlijk gezegd was het fijn geweest om in een soortement van bubbel te zitten dat ze gewoon hun gang konden gaan zonder aan andere mensen te denken. Maar het leek erop dat die tijd voorbij was en dan moesten ze toch eens een goed gesprek gaan voeren. 
 
Bah, hij had er een hekel aan om goede gesprekken te voeren, want hij was niet goed in zijn gedachten goed uit te leggen. 
 
En daarbij kon hij dit gesprek ook niet voeren met Sascha's moeder ernaast, dus hij kon nu weinig doen dan gewoon afwachten wat er verder zou gebeuren. 

Fi grinned, carefully draping the dress over her arm so she could peruse some more dresses, before she'd go for a fitting. She hummed as both her and Pen made their way through the store, looking at dresses, contemplating them before ultimately deciding it was not the dress, before Pen opened her mouth again.
 
'I mean, not that often?' Pen frowned. 'It's different without you, yes, but I assume it's also different if you and Ari hang out without me?' Dynamics changed after all, and it wasn't like they all had the same classes, or were paired together in every one of them. Pen was, after all, in a more advanced piano class than she was. 'Just like it's different not having Ari here with us?' She was, after all, convinced that Ari and Pen would also hang out without her. Wasn't that normal?

'Hmm. True, true, and after all that news she's probably lucky someone took pity on her. Oh well, leaves the better ones for us, really.' At least they wouldn't have to worry as much as others, and it left the better ones for themselves. They'd probably have the pick of anyone they wanted, and wasn't that a nice idea?
 
'She does!' Fiore said happily. 'I'm pretty sure I know what she does and doesn't have yet, for the most part anyway, so we might be able to get her something she doesn't have yet. I'm sure that'll make her happy!' And, well, Choice was a good brand, even if some didn't seem to appreciate it at all the way they should, Mina.
 
'Ooh, that is gorgeous,' Fiore said, holding the dress to her. 'I should do a fitting with this, shouldn't I?' She twirled around a bit, to see how the fabric moved and how the light hit it even if she was not yet wearing it. 'But we should find you a dress, too, maybe more than one, and then do the fitting all in one go. That'd be easier, wouldn't it?' 

Oh ja nee, dit was fijn, dat hij zo direct voor het blok werd gezet dat hij met Sascha moest trouwen. Nu, direct, want ze leek hem op het type dat nog in staat zou zijn om hem direct voor het altaar te slepen ook. Hij was er alleen nog niet klaar voor om met Sascha te trouwen. Hij hield van haar, eerlijk waar, en hij begreep heus wel dat het voor haar ook lastig was om zo lang te moeten wachten, maar hij had nog geen nieuwe carrière opgebouwd en... 
 
"Ik... dit is niet aan de orde," probeerde hij zichzelf te verdedigen. "We hebben niets verkeerd gedaan!" 
 
Niet dat hij seks voor het huwelijk überhaupt verkeerd vond, hoor, maar dat leek hem al helemaal niet het juiste moment om daar discussie over te voeren. 

Ja, eh, dus. Ten eerste was hij hier onschuldig, hij was (nog steeds) niet met Sascha naar bed gegaan en had daar ook geen plannen voor zolang als zij dat niet wilde, want hij was een goed vriendje, dank je wel, en ten tweede begreep hij nog steeds niet waar dit nou vandaan kwam. Hij had niets gedaan! Ze waren zich heus niet anders aan het gedragen dan normaal en vorige week was alles nog goed, waren hij en Sascha nog op de thee geweest ook, en nu plotseling dit?
 
"Mevrouw Baker," zei hij dus ook, een beetje streng, "het stelt me teleur dat u er vanuit gaat dat ik dit soort dingen zou doen bij Sascha! Ik heb haar altijd goed behandeld en ben ook van plan dat te blijven doen." 

'I mean, obviously,' Fiore agreed. 'Still, I wonder if I wonder if I should pity her husband because of who he married, or wonder what the hell she did to land a husband in the first place, especially before any of us?' If she was completely honest, Fiore absolutely expected Pen or Ari to get married before her, but that was also because they were just so much prettier than she was, and then for Empress, of all people, to get married? It was baffling.
'Though it's great that we won't need to deal with her at school anymore.' That was something, at least. At least it meant permanently now, for Fi had always thought Empress'd find herself back in school eventually, despite the scandal.
 
'Oh, absolutely,' Fi said. 'We can't be seen in last seasons clothes, after all. We've got a reputation to maintain. Imagine the articles!' They were after all rich enough to get mentioned at times, and especially with important family like they had, it was necessary they make a good impression, lest it end up unfavourable for their own families. No, that wouldn't do.
'Maybe just a few at first, though,' Fi hummed. 'It'll be good to have a reason to return with Ari, after all. Like, it's not like you can have too many dresses, but I also don't want her to feel left out. Should we get her a gift?'

Het was eigenlijk wel jammer dat Sascha nu alweer uit zijn appartement was verhuisd, maar tja, voor haar natuurlijk ook wel beter om een eigen plekje te hebben. Ze waren nog niet getrouwd en zo groot was zijn appartement nou ook weer niet. ... Ja, twee keer zo groot als haar nieuwe plekje, maar hij was opgegroeid in een groot landhuis, oké, hij had een beetje een raar idee van wat groot nou precies was. Hij was in ieder geval wel blij voor haar, dat ze nu al een mooie plek had gevonden! En dus was hij natuurlijk langs gekomen met een fles wijn, om haar eerste avond te vieren.
 
Tot Sascha's moeder binnen kwam stormen. Hij sprong geschrokken op, want als iemand tegen hem zei dat hij op moest staan, dan deed hij dat ook direct. "Mevrouw Baker? Wat is er aan de hand?" Hij hield zijn handen schuldig omhoog. 
 
Ook al had hij op zich niets gedaan. 

"Bartie!" George gasped, because sure, his son had been difficult before, he was only a young boy, but George had never expected that he would be cruel. To his own mother, of all people! And alright, perhaps he didn't have a good bond with her, perhaps George should've explained more about who Priscilla was, but Bartholomew was never this cruel to anyone else. He had no trouble with meeting strangers, so why on earth would Priscilla of all people be difficult?
 
Even though he was quite on edge himself, with the way Priscilla was responding to the whole situation. But man, if Bartie had just... given her a hug... 
 
He was going to have a stern conversation with his son after this. 
 
"I'm so sorry," he told both Priscilla and the chaperone. "I... I didn't realize that he would behave this way." Poor Priscilla, all she wanted was to meet her son... For god's sake, Bartie. "'is she... going to be alright?" 

'Did you hear that Empress is married now?' Fiore threw a look at Penelope Corindale-Desmarais, absolutely positive that she, as one of her best friends, absolutely had an opinion on this all, especially considering neither of them, nor their best friend Ariel, had found themselves married yet. It all seemed a little unfair, if you asked Fiore, but on the plus side they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore at La Fleur Blanche.
 
Didn't mean it still baffled Fiore how she got married before either of them, though.
 
She led Penelope through the streets of London, though they both had been clear as to where they'd wanted to go for today - shopping first, especially with a visit to the Stonem store, then get some tea, and then get nails done. All very important business, though it'd been a shame Ari hadn't been able to join them. Fi would have to set a date with her separately.
'Did you want to go in here, by the way?' she asked, nodding to the store up ahead. 'Or straight on to the Stonem store?'

The more that strange, weird woman started screaming, the more his father started pushing, the less Bartholomew wanted to be here, to have anything to do with her. He didn't know her and now she was screaming at him that he was her baby and she loved him?! How could she love him, she didn't even know him!
 
"You're not my mother!" he yelled back at Priscilla. "You're just creepy and weird!" And he wanted to go. 

"You shouldn't say that," he sternly told Bartie, but he had to admit that now that Priscilla was losing his composure, he too started to feel uncomfortable with the whole situation. He wanted his son to have a relationship with his mother, he wanted Priscilla to have a relationship with Bartholomew, but it seemed like neither of them had been ready for this. 
 
"Your mother has been through a lot, she just... she just wants to get to know you." But he felt unwilling to push Bartie towards Priscilla as well, at least as long as she couldn't calm down. "Is she alright?" he asked the nurse. "Would it be better to just... remove Bartie from the situation for a bit so she can calm down?" 
 
He didn't know what to do. 

But he didn't know her. He didn't know this strange woman, who was sobbing on the couch in an emotional display he wasn't used to, and who said she was his mother. He had never had a mother, he had never wanted a mother, because George and Azalea were enough and now all of the sudden he was suddenly supposed to meet her? What next, he had to live with her? She would take him away from his father?
 
"No," he said, louder, stepping away from his father's hands. "I don't want to, she's weird!" 

It had been a mistake. George stared at his own son in horror, the young boy who just glanced at Priscilla from the corner of his eye and seemingly determined that had been enough. He should've asked the boy somewhere else, probably, might've asked the maid to at least tell him that his mother was waiting for him, but now Priscilla seemed incredibly hurt and Bartholomew just seemed to inch away from her. 
 
"Bartie," he sighed, standing up so he could guide Bartie towards her, "come on. It won't be long." 

Hello, excuse me, what did you just say?
 
Bartie was just having a fun morning, it was the summer holidays and he had been out in the garden when a maid had come calling him inside because his father wanted him. Usually, his father wanting him meant something good, it meant toys or treats or 'let's go out to an amusement park' or whatever he wanted, so Bartie had been happy when he entered the room. Even if there were two weird women sitting on a couch and his father so far away from them that it was almost strange, because his father never sat far away from people, but all of that could've been explained, somehow, if George hadn't dropped the following question: if he wanted to meet his mother.
 
"No thank you," he said. "Can I go play again?" 

Ah, yes, Bartie... of course she would want to see her son, if he had been in her position... (which he was, with his daughters) he also would want to see his children as soon as possible.
 
So without considering if this was a good idea or not, he immediately gestured towards another maid that she should bring Bartholomew here and when Bartholomew entered, he smiled at the boy and said: "Hello Bartie, would you like to meet your mother?" 

Sure, he had that. So he assumed at least, because let's be honest, he didn't do his own grocery shopping, but surely a maid could figure out how to get Priscilla some mint tea. Didn't they grow that somewhere in the garden? He nodded towards a maid. 
 
Yes, after years of... well. At least she was doing better now, taking medications, apparently. He nodded slowly at her. "Alright," he smiled, a little awkward. "I'm glad to hear that you're doing better." 
 
It was rude, right? To just ask what she was doing here? "Where do you live now?" 

Priscilla Pearson was currently in his sitting room. 
 
Priscilla Pearson. 
 
Of all people George had ever expected in his sitting room, Priscilla Pearson wasn't one of them. She had been so broken, the last time he had seen her... or perhaps broken wasn't really the right word. Angry? Frustrated? Complicated?
 
Can you tell he was desperately trying to avoid the word insane? 
 
But according to his maid, yes, he had quickly asked, she seemed... normal. Subdued. A little uncomfortable, but not splattered in blood, throwing furniture around. 
 
Yes, he had indeed asked if she was throwing around furniture. 
 
"Well, hello," he said, smiling, when he entered the sitting room, nodding at Priscilla and her chaperone. He took a rather awkward route through the sitting room from the door, to sink down in a chair opposite of Priscilla. "Tea?" 
 
What was she doing here? 
 
"It's been a while." 

"Morgen!" beet Christa terug. "Alles wat hier overmorgen nog staat, gooi ik eruit!" 
 
Wist Sascha ook hoe het voelde. 

"TRUT?!" brieste Christa. "BEDOEL JE NIET SLET? HOER? SNOL? LICHTEKOOI? BLIJKBAAR IS WAT IK MET MIJN KUT DOE TOCH HET ALLERBELANGRIJKSTE VOOR JE!"