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Post by Rainbow on Jun 12, 2004 13:28:44 GMT -5
Where the Trees Know Your Name by Horizon Story dedicated to Renee, Diana and Jem with respect, admiration and many hugs. Genre: Angst/Romance Rating: R Pairing: Orli/Keira Teaser: Sex, drugs, alcohol, rehab, paparazzi, therapists, running away: it's all the norm. A life is incomplete, it seems, if you have not put yourself through the mental torture of these things. When every day is an effort, every waking hour a struggle and sleeping impossible, when writing seems the only escape and when even the trees seem to know your name. Prologuebeta read by Renee The leaves twist and tear. Peeling themselves away from the great trees. Escaping, believing in what they believe. A new life, a new world but only away from the sturdiness of home. They doom themselves in leaving but did they have a choice?Paris, June 2006:“Hey Anouk, Lucas, wait up,” Keira called, spotting her friends at the end of the corridor. The couple turned in her direction, grinning at the English accent that filled their ears. “Keira, mon ami,” Lucas greeted, kissing her left cheek followed by her right. “And how is my favourite British movie star today?” he asked, a thick French accent rolling off his tongue. “I can’t complain,” Keira replied, kissing Anouk on each cheek. “Anouk your hair looks gorgeous,” she complimented her friend, running her fingers through the deep auburn locks that hung in loose ringlets. Anouk blushed and grinned before hugging her tightly. “We will be joined by your company tonight, will we not?” Lucas asked, affectionately if not a little flirtily, wrapping an arm around her waist. Anouk hit his shoulder and offered Keira an apologetic smile to which she couldn’t help but laugh. “Count me in,” she chuckled, poking Lucas in the stomach. He gave her one final kiss on the cheek before announcing his departure and running off to a lecture. The girls watched and chuckled to one another, greatly amused by their friend’s behaviour. “Well I should get to my class also,” Anouk apologized. Her English was a lot more secure than Lucas’, but an accent was still very present. Keira knew that she should probably be speaking to her friends in French as she was resident in their country but they seemed to greatly enjoy the excuse to practice their English. “Oh Professor Montgomery was looking for you,” Anouk said, suddenly remembering. “Something about a journalism class I think,” she added, before bidding her friend farewell and heading to class. Keira smiled to herself as she walked down the corridor towards the English block. She officially loved the French. They were so friendly and accepting, possibly a little crazy and eccentric but such loveable people. She’d already made lifetime friends in the two semesters she’d been at the Université de Paris. She went to her locker, collecting a pile of books she would need for her afternoon studies, before heading in search of her teacher. “You wanted to see me?” Keira asked, poking her head around the classroom door. Professor Montgomery was sitting at his desk studying a text. “Ah Keira, yes. Do come in,” replied her teacher, taking off his glasses and motioning to a chair before him. He stood up, walked around the desk, and perching on the edge of it, as she sat in the chair before him clutching her books. Keira liked her English Professor very much, he reminded her of home. Much as she loved living in Paris, it was nice to hear a native English voice once in while, without the beautifully poetic accent of the French. Professor Montgomery’s focus was drawn to her armful of books as she fumbled to balance them in her lap. “Ah, I see you are reading ‘Where the Trees Know your Name’, excellent,” he commented. “It really is a most remarkable book, very fresh and yet so very mature.” His eyes were full of wonder and he obviously hadn’t noticed the bewildered look on Keira’s face. “You… you’ve read it?” she stammered. “Oh yes many times. K. Turner really is a remarkable young woman.” Keira raised an eyebrow in amusement. “How do you know it’s a woman and how do you know she is young?” she asked, knowing full well that the author was a completely anonymous character under a pen name. Despite the media’s attempt to track down said author, they had found nothing. Even the publishers claimed they had never actually met the author and merely received the text and the request that all revenue should aid medical research into dyslexia. “It is far to honest to be written by a man and the use of language is extremely contemporary. I would say she was an author not much older than you.” He paused before changing his mind, “actually perhaps she is in her thirties. I take it you like the book, or have you not yet read it?” he asked. “I have read it, perhaps too many times, but it is very special to me. It reminds me of a person I once knew,” she reminisced. “Let me guess tall, dark and gorgeously handsome.” Keira looked at him in alarm but managed to hide it behind surprise. He noticed and elaborated on his assumption. “It’s a story of love... Not the act of love and not the emotion of love but the tangible form of love. Every word oozes passion and every syllable conveys pain but in its totality it is the concrete, ever changing and ever evolving perception of love.”<br> “Wow,” Keira said, amazed at the involvement her teacher seemed to have with this book. “And here I was thinking it was just teen angst.” Professor Montgomery laughed. “Yes well, it’s that too,” he said, grinning. “Well I’m glad you like it because I’ve actually chosen it as our contemporary novel to study next semester, which brings me to why I wanted to see you. I know you have great maturity and a fantastic sense of humour when it comes to looking back at your acting career and I was wondering if you would consider taking a class on what it’s like being a victim of the media rather than the conductor. I think it would help both you and your peers in your tabloid journalism project to have an insiders perspective on what it’s like to be featured in headlines.”<br> Keira’s face fell but what he was saying did make sense. She’s had a rough time with the media but they had also been incredibly supportive. Being a native of England she had experienced the most malicious of journalist, the British tabloids, and it had always interested her that no country’s opinions were as ever changing as Great Britain’s. “Do I have to do it in French?” she asked, grinning. “Will that be a problem?” he replied, returning her smile. They both knew Keira’s French was a little rusty. She had become fluent in the language but occasionally her pronunciation made her native friends chuckle. “No,” she replied, pouting and pulling her books to her chest, before smiling at him again. “Good. Right, well as much as I would love to sit here and chatter away about ‘Where the Trees Know your Name’, I really must get back to marking your essays.” They both stood and walked to the door, which Professor Montgomery held open for her. “Shall we be blessed with your presence in literature this afternoon?” he asked, helping her balance the pile of books in her arms, that she was about to drop. “Lit, yup right. I’ll be there. It’s Faustus, right?” she asked, trying to remember if she’d actually read that text. “As long as you don’t make me act it out again, it always makes everyone start asking me what its like working with Johnny Depp.” They both laughed at her dry English humour “Yes indeed,” he replied. “Okay no acting, I promise,” he called, watching her walk down the corridor.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 12, 2004 13:36:12 GMT -5
Chapter One Sometimes the words that are whispered in the air are so deafening that I wonder how people can walk by everyday and not hear them. The secrets they tell would keep tabloids occupied for years and would prove the basis for many a novel. Is it fiction that they seek though or is it actuality? Is some form of truth present in every fantasy? That which affects us most is honesty. A concept, in this modern world, that appears to be becoming a rarity, a myth in itself. So much so that when one comes across it there is often doubt in its own truth. Love it seems is much the same…England, July 2004:She lay outstretched upon the wooden bench in her garden, eyes closed and head rested in the palm of a hand, propped up by an elbow. Birds twittered as they went about their daily business and she could hear the shrill squeals of enjoyment coming from her next-door neighbour’s garden. A hedge obstructed her view into the adjacent garden but the sound of children kicking a ball around bathed the air. Letting out a contented sigh she sat up, shifting the weight from her elbow as it became numb. Beside her lay a book, opened and upside down to keep the right page. Picking it up, she glanced at the text before conceding that the glare from the sun, reflecting off the white pages, made it impossible to read. She put the book down and closed her eyes, contemplating what she could do to pass the time. The sound of the ball much closer to her distracted her attention and opening her eyes she saw it rolling along the grass in front of her. She smiled and turned to look in the direction from whence it had come. She was tempted to kick it back over the hedge but could hear her neighbour instructing the kids to come round and collect it and who knows, maybe they’d ask if she wanted to join in. She could show off some of her ‘Bend it like Beckham’ skills. She had just recently moved into this house, feeling that she needed independence from her family and seclusion from her celebrity status. It was a moderate, family sized home in the Norfolk area of southeast England. It was remote compared to her previous home but that was what she had wanted. She now lived in a small village, with a population of little more than 200 and had neighbours on one side and open countryside on the other. There was a tap at her gate and she called out “It’s open, come on through,” to the child. A round smiling face popped round the gate, followed by another slightly taller child and finally a man. Raising a hand to shield the sun from her eyes, she gawped in shock, as she recognized the figure. “I thought I recognized that voice,” the young man said. “Keira it’s so great to see you, how have you been?” She sat in silence her mouth falling open in shock, before jumping up and running to the man and hugging him. “Orlando. Wow. What are you doing here?” she said, in a flourish. “You’re friends with the Hope’s?” she enquired, glancing at the two children that were now kicking the ball around happily in her garden. “Yeah,” he replied, smiling at the kids. “Yeah…” he continued, “well Ben and Hannah were childhood friends. We all grew up on the same block, went to the same school.” He chuckled, “we always said they’d end up married but we were never serious.” He paused, “and look at them now. Settled down with two beautiful kids and you as a neighbour.” He gave her a quizzical look, “since when have you been their neighbour?”<br> “Oh I just moved here a couple of months ago,” she replied. “I needed, you know, a change and found this place.” She motioned to the bench and they both sat and watched the children play whilst chatting about times old and new. They were interrupted when the football came flying toward them, intercepted by an impressive header from Keira. “Impressive,” Orlando grinned, as the kids came bounding towards them, urging them to join in. Orlando laughed as he watched Keira set up goals and pretend to have a team meeting with Matthew, the older of the two boys. He patiently waited for Keira to finish, whilst kicking the ball backwards and forwards to Joss, his team mate. That evening Ben and Hannah invited Keira to join them for dinner with Orlando and she had agreed enthusiastically. She was helping Matthew and Joss set the table outside in the warm evening air, happily chattering away to them as she did. Orlando watched her through the kitchen window. It overlooked the garden and was perfect for overseeing the children play, whilst doing other things indoors. He turned to face Hannah, who was taking a dish out of the oven. “How is she?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. “Do you talk to her much, see her around the village?”<br> “What Keira?” Hannah replied. “She’s a lovely girl.” She placed the dish on a heatproof mat before rummaging in a drawer for a serving sthingy. “She’s great with Matthew and Joss,” she continued. “The kids love her because she always plays football with them.” She chuckled, “she runs circles round me and Ben, we really stand no chance.” She paused looking up at him and noticing the concern on his face. “What makes you ask?” she enquired. Orlando shrugged, “just wondering.” He turned back to look out of the window. Hannah obviously didn’t know about Keira’s recent past and he felt it wasn’t his place to say anything. He watched her running around, being chased by the kids and he smiled. She looked so happy, like when he had first met her a couple of years back. She’d only been 17 then, so young but not really naïve in the world. He remembered the fun they’d had whilst filming Pirates of the Caribbean, how just being around her had knocked 10 years off his age, so he could act like a crazy teenager. He was looking forward to filming the sequel later that year but knew that he would not be with the same Keira as two years ago. She had gone through so much in the last year. So much pain and so much anger. She had spent most of the year in and out of rehab centres for alcohol abuse and now she seemed to repress the memory altogether. When he had spoken to her mother she had thought that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she had erased it from her memory but Orlando was not convinced. The Keira he knew would never have kept her thoughts bottled up inside. He felt guilty for not having been there for her in the last year. His career had boomed and he had literally been travelling from set to set as he filmed movies in succession, barely having a week free to come home. She had needed a friend and he had been half way around the world making money. When he had seen her, almost 6 months ago now, he had been so shocked and hadn’t dealt with it well, before jetting off to yet another movie location. He hadn’t even known she’d moved out of her parent’s house until he had come here, what a coincidence that she should move in next to Ben and Hannah. He smiled to himself as he thought that she couldn’t really have more supportive neighbours but they obviously had no idea. He made a promise to himself, there and then, that he would make up for all the lost time with Keira. Make it up to her but more importantly make it up to himself. He caught Keira’s eye and blushed, realizing that he had been staring. He gave her a little wave, which she returned, before turning his attention back to Hannah who was talking to him. “Take this outside, will you” she said, grinning at him. Obviously having seen his vacant expression. “And tell Matthew and Joss to come in and wash their hands and then sit at the table.” He nodded and left, delivering his message and placing the dish on the table. He sidled up to Keira, who watched the kids run in, before turning her attention to Orlando. “What’s up?” she ask, a confused look on her face as he stared at her. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. “I missed you so much,” he replied, not letting go until he could hear the kids running back. He pulled away to look at her, a loving smile spread across his face as he gazed at her in wonder. “I missed you too,” she said weakly, in little more than a whisper, before Hannah and Ben came out, each bearing a dish as they sat down to dinner…<br>
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Post by Miss Knightley on Jun 13, 2004 9:51:46 GMT -5
*raises an eyebrow* hmm...that was a little teaser, wasn't it you tricksy girl. Alright. I'm ready for more now.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 13, 2004 12:23:16 GMT -5
Haha, indeed ;D
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Post by Miss Knightley on Jun 14, 2004 7:21:50 GMT -5
*bites her lip* Okay, you may think I'm crazy when I go off on this tangent, but here I go anyway.
I am one of the most empathetic people you're ever likely to meet (not bragging, just telling the truth). Sometimes it stinks because when people are really sad, I get really sad. But it happens all the time.
I felt Orlando's feelings. Isn't that strange? I litterally knew how he was feeling...lol, I have just freaked myself out.
But, in the end, it speaks volumes for your writing. Please go on.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 14, 2004 8:00:36 GMT -5
Awww, wow. No not crazy at all, just hidden talents.. ;D
Yay i'm glad you see more than just words. i get so ahead of myself in telling stories that i leave so much to reading between lines.
Okay next part. There too short to be called chapters really but ah well.
“So how are you really?” he asked, as they walked down a country track that led to a lake. They had eaten a wonderful meal, laughing and joking throughout and after helping Ben clear up, Orlando had asked Keira if she wanted to go for a walk. She ran on up the path ahead of him and disappeared. He smiled as he plodded along at his own pace to the point that he had seen her last. A look of confusion fell upon his face, he glanced around, calling her name but could not see her anywhere. Then all of a sudden she jumped out from the bush in which she was hiding, flinging her arms around him from behind. He squealed like a girl, making her laugh all the more.
“Don’t do that,” he said, turning to grin at her. “‘You scared the bejesus out of me.”<br> She grinned, “I know,” she replied. They walked hand in hand, Keira skipping and jumping around, pulling at his hand like a little child desperate to get somewhere. Orlando just laughed at her eagerness and broke into a light jog to keep up.
“This is the fun bit,” she called over her shoulder, releasing his hand and running ahead. They came to a steep slope where the track winded as it led down to the lake. Orlando watched in amusement as Keira hurtled down the slope, squealing in enjoyment whilst waving her hands in the air. She skidded to a stop at the bottom and turned to look back up at him.
“You have got to try this,” she called, excitedly. “It’s so much fun,” she said, a broad grin spread across her face and her white teeth sparkling in the falling light of the evening. “Make sure you stop though,” she added. “Otherwise you’ll end up in the lake.” Orlando chuckled and sighed before taking a deep breath and following her lead, tearing down the hill. He ran; faster and faster, as years fell off his age with every step. He felt the age of Matthew, a happy excited 10 year old, as he squealed. He ran as fast as he could and catching Keira’s impressed grin he ran faster. That is, until he saw the water rapidly looming ahead of him. Panic raced through his body, he waved his arms around wildly as if to grab onto air, to desperately try and stop himself or at least slow his speed. Keira watched and laughed rolling on the ground in hysterics as he went flying, uncontrollably into the lake and hit the water with an almighty splash.
His head popped up from under the surface and he squirted out a mouth full of water, very much reminiscent of a cherub fountain. His shirt hung, saturated from his torso and his curly brown hair was flat and limp against his cheeks. There was a lump of something green and slimy, vaguely resembling some kind of plant, on his shoulder and Keira could not control her hysteria. She thought she was going to die, there and then, from excessive laughing, as she gasped for a breath and her chest caved in on her.
He frowned at her, “You knew that was going to happen.” He tried to glare but couldn’t help grinning.
“Hey don’t look at me,” she managed to say, between giggles and gasps for breath. “I warned you. You were the one that hurtled down at some crazy speed.” She tried to keep a straight face, closing her eyes to calm herself. As soon as she open them again and saw him though, she spluttered as she fell into hysterics yet again. If she had stopped rolling about laughing to look at him, she would have seen a sly mischievous grin appear on his face. He jumped out of the lake; spraying water everywhere, making her stop laughing instantly and eye him warily. She knew what he was about to do from the look in his eyes but as she got up to run she felt strong arms grab her and the next thing she knew, she too was coughing and spluttering in the water. It was Orlando’s turn to stand on the bank and laugh before jumping in beside her to offer an apologetic hug.
“You a.sshole!” she exclaimed, splashing water in his face. “You complete and utter a.sshole.” She pouted and crossed her arms, trying to look as angry as possible. “I didn’t get you wet, that was all you and your running, after I said to be careful.” She shivered in the cold water and Orlando instinctively stepped toward her, rubbing her shoulders and upper arms with his hands.
“Caribbean water’s warmer, huh?” he asked, receiving a weak smile, before Keira remembered she was mad at him, slapping his arm and pushing him away. After deciding she was now wet and might as well have fun, she dived under the water and began to swim out into the lake, shortly followed by Orlando. They raced, played tag and casually swam in the last hours of the day and when they were both finally exhausted they waded back to the shore. Orlando had his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, steadying himself as much as her and when they were about a metre deep and almost at the bank they were startled by a blinding flash of white light. Blinking in surprise in the direction of the light they could see a photographer, hastily running away, grasping in his hand the offending item.
“S.hit!” was all Orlando could find words to say, as he looked worriedly at Keira. She staggered back in the water and would have fallen if not for his strong grip of her. Her eyes were swimming, glancing panicked in all directions, as she shook her head in disbelief.
“No, no… It can’t be…they can’t have,” she stammered. Orlando drew her in his arms and held her tightly as she struggled to push away. She broke into sobs and relaxed in his arms, letting her body go limp.
“Hey. Hey,” he said, stroking her wet hair. “Don’t worry sweetie,” he soothed. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine. I’ll fix it.” He knew he could prevent the photo being distributed. That was easy, one phone call to his PR would fix it but he also knew that that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t the photo itself that upset Keira but the invasion of privacy. The fact that even out here, in the middle of nowhere and one of the remotest parts of England, the paparazzi still followed. How could they possibly have known? Then he felt a pang of guilt stab him, realizing that they must have followed him here. He had led the media straight to her.
He scooped up her fragile, shaking body in his arms and carried her up out of the water. She said nothing and did not protest, remaining silent and slumped in his arms as he began the walk back to her house. It was a slow walk; Keira was not heavy, but added to the weight of the water and the exhaustion of the day it took a while. His feet became sore, as wet socks squelched and rubbed at skin, inside his shoes.
He carried her right up to her front door, which in this friendly neighbourhood was always unlocked. He didn’t want to go in, as his feet were still wet although the rest of his clothes were now nearly dry. They sat resting against one another on her doorstep as they took off their wet shoes and socks, letting out a contented sigh as their feet were freed.
“How long are you staying?” Keira asked, after along silence. Her wet head was resting on Orlando’s shoulder and his arm was draped around hers.
“With Ben and Hannah?” he asked. “A week,” he paused, “they go away on Saturday. Taking the kids up to Scotland to see Ben’s parents.” He turned to look at her, trying to gage her response but she sat motionless, a blank expression on her face.
“I don’t have any work commitments until autumn,” he continued, “with you.”<br> She turned to smile at him, “ah yes Mr Turner. Off for another adventure in the Caribbean.” She sighed her face dropping and the smile was replaced with a frown. “I just…” she began. “I just, you know, wanted some space. Some freedom. Away from the media.” She paused, picking at her trousers uncomfortably and poking at the creases that formed at the bend in her knee. Orlando took her hands in his to stop her fidgeting, as she looked up to meet his eyes.
“Before all the Caribbean hype, I just… I just wanted to be me and not have to worry about being watched or pounced on, you know?” she finished, looking away. At that moment Matthew came plodding up the path in his pyjamas, a scrap of paper clasped in his hand.
“Good heavens!” Orlando exclaimed, “It’s half past ten, surely it’s past your bed time.” They boy grinned at him, a certain sense of pride in his nod of agreement.
“I couldn’t sleep until I gave Keira this,” he beamed. “Mum said if I was quick, then I could come here.” He handed the piece of paper to Keira. “Joss helped colour but I drew it,” he said proudly. Matthew sat himself down in Orlando’s lap, awaiting Keira’s response.
“Its beautiful, thank you so much,” she said, giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “And you really drew it? Wow…” she grinned at him and then to Orlando said, “I think we have a future artist her.”<br> Orlando smiled. “Right, you,” he said, standing up and putting Matthew on his feet. “Say goodnight to Keira and then off to bed.” Matthew gave Keira another hug, as did Orlando before taking the boy’s hand and walking back next door. He turned to look over his shoulder and was comforted by the smile that was spread across Keira’s face, as she stood gazing at the picture Matthew had given her.
There are angels watching over me. I can see them, hear them whispering from tree to tree. There are angels watching over me. I am delusional. I am insane but I do not fear to lose my mind. I have touched what I should not, seen what I must not and known a death of poison. A hand, an escape, he was there. He will always be there but he is not here now. I must suffer for what I have done. I have stolen that which does not belong to me. Destroyed that which I care for most. He can never see what I have become because he is blind. Bathed in the light of the angels watching over me.
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Post by Miss Knightley on Jun 14, 2004 8:11:20 GMT -5
I wanna play in the watter too! *thinks* I could do without Keira being there though.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 14, 2004 9:53:37 GMT -5
^ haha, hmmm
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Post by Reens on Jun 19, 2004 1:39:04 GMT -5
Rainbow aka Goldhorizon, I am reading and commenting on your fic' on Orlando Bloom boards. Keep updating here.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 19, 2004 7:01:16 GMT -5
hehe hi *waves* yup will do, sorry just in the midst of my A levels at the mo which is why i haven't updates for a total age. But its definately on my to do list ;D
Whats your OB files User?
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Post by Miss Knightley on Jun 19, 2004 12:48:26 GMT -5
aww, poor Keira. I feel very sad for her, but it is good to know that Orlando is there to watche after her. At least for a little while.
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Post by Reens on Jun 19, 2004 20:42:45 GMT -5
Whats your OB files User? Good luck with A levels. Make a guess.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 19, 2004 23:55:25 GMT -5
thankies ;D hehe, i know now cuz i have read best of me on the OB files. You're okIMobsessed. haha aren't we all
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 20, 2004 10:41:48 GMT -5
Chapter Two Keira plodded down the stairs, one arm outstretched before her and the other tightly grasping the banister. She fumbled the last steps with her eyes barely open and her hair tumbled across her face. Picking up the ringing phone she spoke “Hello?” groggily into the receiver. “Keira, sweetie. How are you? Is everything okay? I haven’t spoken to you for ages. How’s the book coming along? You are still writing aren’t you?” The voice was energetic and melodramatically happy. Keira sighed, her body slumping as she slid down the wall to the carpet, resting her chin on her knees. “Mum,” she answered blankly, her voice void of any emotion. The conversation continued, though it could barely be classed as a conversation. The animated voice at the other end was doing all the talking whilst Keira offered the odd single syllable word here and there before hanging up. She got up slowly, still not quite awake and staggered to the front door, collecting the bottle of milk that was sitting on the doorstep and picking up the newspaper with a certain sense of dread. She raised an eyebrow in semi surprise to see a picture of Orlando with a surfboard. The caption read Elf to Enter National Surf Contest. She realised she wasn’t actually surprised that it was not the picture taken last night as she knew Orlando had a good PR; he needed it with all the public interest in his life. Making a mental note to thank him next time she saw him, she thought about all the web sites that would go crazy scanning in the article as soon as they saw it. It always surprised her how little Orlando cared about the Internet. He had once told her, after finding out in an interview, that he was featured on over a million websites. He had said it with pride but had later admitted it terrified him. Keira winced as she remembered her big mistake. She hadn’t thought it possible and so had typed his name into a search engine, pulling up as he had said, a million entries. She had then typed in her own name and the result had pushed her over the edge. It was largely responsible for her alcoholism and needless to say she had not been on the Internet since. She sat down at the table, opened her laptop and stared at the screen. Her hands were poised above the keys as she read the last paragraph she had written, refreshing her memory. Nothing came. She took her hands away, entwining her fingers and stretching out her arms before her. Her fingers hovered over the keys again but still nothing came. She sighed and got up to get some music playing. It was Classical, some big orchestral thing. It’s what her therapist had recommended, that and writing a novel. Two of the dullest things imaginable in Keira’s mind but it had got her out of rehab early so she wasn’t complaining. She returned to the laptop but still could not write. “Oh this is fun,” she said aloud, slamming her hands on the table either side of the keypad and pushing herself up. See if I can get inspiration in a nice, hot bubble bath she thought, grinning at the way she was managing to deceive herself. An hour later her hands were again hovering above the keypad. Her eyes glanced at the sideboard, following it to a cupboard. She knew there was no alcohol in the house but it didn’t stop her eyes searching for it and her body yearning for it. A knock at the door startled her and she jumped in her seat, her eyes reverting back to the computer screen and then looking over her shoulder towards the door. She frowned, wondering who her visitor might be, before remembering that Orlando was staying next door. Her frown turned to a smile as she called out, “it’s open.” She heard the door bump closed and a head popped round the doorway of the room she was in. She grinned at Orlando as he rested he head against the frame. “Morning,” he said, closing his eyes. Keira laughed aloud. “Kids keep you up?” she asked. He opened his eyes and walked over to the table, pulling up a chair. “Nah,” he replied. “They’re total angels,” he grinned and then slumped his head onto arms that were resting on the table and closed his eyes again. “Just couldn’t sleep,” he continued, his voice muffled through speaking into his arm. Keira watched him, her eyes not moving from his peaceful face. She bit her lower lip as she out stretched a hand to brush away a rebellious brown curl that had fallen across his closed eyes. A half smile crept across Orlando’s face as he felt her soft touch but he did not open his eyes. She smiled lovingly at him before turning back to her laptop, tucking her own hair behind her ears and gazing at the screen, rereading the last words she’d written. I’m only a phone call away but could it be any further? You sit right next to me and yet you do not see me and if you did then I would scream. I once looked out of the window, across a lush meadow. The window was in my mind and the meadow was full of weeds. As I gazed the weeds grew tall. They reached towards me, twisting their leaves around my throat, suffocating my mind. A ray of light, a golden horse with broad wings, a brave knight upon his noble steed and all was gone.Orlando propped his head up with an elbow on the table and watched her inquisitively. “Whatcha writing?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were a writer,” he added. “I’m not,” she replied. “It’s some genius plan my therapist came up with.” She let out a snigger as she turned to face Orlando, tucking her hair behind her ears again out of sheer habit. “You know, window to the soul and all that,” she continued, “he figures that writing is the best way to deal.” She paused, “well that and writing music but I wasn’t about to go all Mozart, so I went with the novel.” She shrugged and turned back to the screen. “It got me out of rehab a couple of months early so whatever.”<br> All the time she was talking Orlando had been staring at her, a look of wonderment on his face. When Keira noticed she blushed, looking down and tucking hair behind her ears yet again. “What?” Orlando shook his head, not taking his eyes away from her. “Your amazing,” he said. “You’ve been to hell and back and the ride’s made you smarter and more beautiful than ever.” She stared at him and he grinned sheepishly. “If that’s even possible,” he added, blushing. They sat in silence, gazing at each other, neither one quite sure what to say after a comment like that. “Right. Well…” Orlando said, clearing his throat, “if you can take a break from the novel I promised Matt and Joss I would take them to the zoo and we would love to be joined by your company,” he paused. “You know in case they want to play football or something,” he grinned and Keira couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure,” she replied, closing the lid of her laptop. “That sounds like fun,” she stood up to get her coat. “You never know, maybe I’ll find inspiration at the zoo.”<br> Orlando chuckled, “you may indeed,” he said, following her out. “Oh and Orlando,” Keira said, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “Yes Love,” he replied, holding her coat for her as she put her arms through each sleeve. “Thank you.” She turned to face him after getting her coat on. “For the photo,” she added sensing his confusion, “and well, everything.”<br> Orlando smiled at her, placing his hands on her shoulders, “anytime love, anytime,” he said before using his hands to turn her around and push her out of the front door, following right behind.
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Post by Reens on Jun 20, 2004 17:43:16 GMT -5
Yay! Update! I love how the vivid description of the scenes. How do you guys do it? He He.. this part: ‘You know, window to the soul and all that’ she continued, ‘he figures that writing is the best way to deal.’ She paused, ‘well that and writing music but I wasn’t about to go all Mozart, so I went with the novel.’ You know that is exactly why I write. To get the stress out (not because my therapist told me). Not that its far from the truth, as obsessed as I am, pretty soon Keep updating....
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 21, 2004 3:16:15 GMT -5
^ yeah me too. lol its a stress thing hehe.
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 21, 2004 3:21:30 GMT -5
“Right you guys,” Orlando said, bursting through the door. “Are you ready yet? We can’t keep the lady waiting.” Keira laughed and playfully hit him on the shoulder before the two boys came bounding from different directions.
“Keira,” they squealed in delight as she crouched down to hug them both. Orlando chuckled as Ben and Hannah walked into the hallway, teacups in hand, to see what the commotion was.
“Are we all set?” Keira asked the boys before standing up. They nodded their heads vigorously and danced around in glee, squealing, “we’re going to the zoo, we’re going to the zoo!”<br> “Now you be good,” Hannah said to them in a stern voice. “Do everything uncle Orli and Keira tell you.” She smiled and ruffled up Matthew’s hair, “and try to stay out of mischief,” she added.
“We will mum,” they replied in unison before tearing out side to Orlando’s red convertible parked in the drive.
“‘Have fun,” Ben said, winking at Keira and Orlando as he followed them outside.
“Oh I’m sure we will,” Orlando replied, getting into the driver’s seat. He turned to face the kids in the back seats “all belted up?” They grinned and nodded. “Right” he said turning to smile at Keira beside him, “off we go.”<br> Twenty minutes and thirteen games of eye spy later they were pulled up in the zoo car park. They were just about to enter when Orlando heard his name being called and looked around to see a mob of screaming girls running towards him. He glanced at Keira anxiously but she smiled at him reassuringly before taking Matthew and Joss by the hand and led them to the ticket gate.
“We’ll wait for Uncle Orli on the other side,” she smiled. “He just has to talk to some nice people first,” she explained. The kids eagerly followed Keira as she paid for their tickets and led them through. Once inside the safety of the enclosure she stopped and let go of their hands. “Right,” she grinned, “who’s up for ice cream while we wait?”<br> They were sat on a bench in the sun, slurping at ice creams when Orlando came and found them. He grinned at the kids as he saw that the ice cream was mostly smeared across their faces.
“Don’t move,” he instructed, getting out a camera and chuckling to himself. “Smile,” click. He sat down next to Keira, leaning in to steal a mouthful of her ice cream. Keira frowned at him before poking her finger in the ice cream and smearing it on his nose.
“You okay,” she asked, admiring her handiwork.
“Yeah,” he replied, trying to reach his nose with his tongue but failing miserably. “They just wanted some autographs, a few photos, you know, the usual.” He grinned mischievously at Keira as he thought of a better plan to get rid of the ice cream and rubbed his nose against her cheek.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, wiping it off with the back of her hand and glaring at him.
“You started it,” Orlando replied, grinning and holding his hands up in mock defence. She scowled at him but couldn’t hold it without laughing at him as he still had ice cream smeared on his nose. She was just about to rub it off for him when Joss decided to join in the game.
“Keira,” he said grinning at her with a face covered in ice cream. She turned to face him but before she could say anything the eight year old had planted a cold, sticky ice cream kiss on her cheek and burst out laughing.
“Right. That’s it,” she said getting up. She thrust her ice cream into the hands of Orlando, who was laughing hysterically, picked up a napkin and chased Joss. She caught him and managed to clean up his face and her own before Orlando, deciding this was far to good an opportunity to miss, stuck his face in the ice cream and gave her a big kiss on the other cheek.
“Ahh!” she screamed in despair before chasing after him. “Boys,” she sighed, cleaning her face and discarding the napkin. “Lets go and see some animals before any of you come up with more ways to annoy Keira,” she said, chuckling.
She took Joss’ hand in hers turning to face Orlando and Matthew. Orlando took Matthews’s hand and then Keira’s free hand saying: “okay aunty Keira, lets go.” She looked at him, rolling her eyes before the four of them plodded off in search of elephants. This was going to be an exhausting day she thought to herself. Fun but exhausting!
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Post by Miss Knightley on Jun 21, 2004 10:13:33 GMT -5
You all tell me that I should write a book...but I am so in love with your style and descriptions and...UGH! I just love to read your work. YOU should write a book!
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Post by Rainbow on Jun 21, 2004 10:43:03 GMT -5
haha, i lack imagination.
I'd love to be a writer but maybe more of an analytic writer, music/film reviews or, dare i say it, journalism ;D
The media is the most fascinating thing. Extrememly terrifyingly scarily powerful. But quite fascinating
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Post by Reens on Jun 21, 2004 12:09:52 GMT -5
You lack imagination? Are you kidding me? LOL. I loved the ice cream fight! Yay, more more more! Updates and ice cream go so good together... yummm
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