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Extended Work
Secrets Of The Heart – Part One - chapter 2
By Brio
02 October 2006
“It’s very nice,” I said to the estate agent as I walked around.  The flat was set in a nice area of London, and was on the third floor of the building.  The lifts rarely fail the agent had said, which was good for lugging my stuff up when I shipped it over, and for shopping.  The living area doubled as a dining space too, there was room for a small table and a few chairs as well as a sofa, TV and other such paraphernalia.  It was nicely decorated, with buttermilk white walls, a red border round the middle of the walls, and a grey carpet.  My sofa back home was a light dove grey, fitted in perfect.  The lounge was just off a small, but light and airy hallway, decorated in cream, with natural wood flooring, and a small pine telephone table that was attached to the wall.  Opposite the lounge was a small, but very serviceable kitchen.  It was all fitted units, solid limed oak, very now.  All the mod cons you could fit into a small area the size of a box room; double oven with a built in microwave, a washing machine and dishwasher, and lights everywhere.  Under the cupboards, in the cupboards, and of course on the ceiling.  The walls were a delightful mix of warm terracotta tiles and paint, and the flooring was beige quarry tiles.  It definitely had a warm, inviting feel to it.  Just up from the kitchen was the small spare room – and it was small!  It had nice relaxing sky blue décor, and I envisaged that as my office.  Opposite this room was a small bathroom, all done out in white.  It looked, and felt, very clinical.  I’d have to inject some colour there.  Then the final room, the master bedroom.  It was gorgeous.  The wall colour was perfect, the owners having done the place up before renting it out.  It was a lovely restful lilac, and they’d managed to get a carpet to match.  A walk in wardrobe had been installed one side of the room, and on the other, French doors opened out onto a small balcony, just big enough for a couple of chairs.
 

“That green you look out over is full of children in the height of summer, you can watch them to your hearts content.  But then when the doors are closed and double locked they let in no sound, and it’s nice and quiet,” the agent said, pulling yet another sales pitch from the bag.
 

Not that she needed to, I loved the place.  “I’ll take it,” I said as I turned to face the agent, smiling.
 

 

***
 

“You seen Steve about?”
 

“No sorry, who’s looking for him?”
 

“His sister.”
 

“If I see him I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.  Have you tried ringing his mobile?”
 

“Yeah, but he obviously can’t hear it, and with this racket I doubt I’d hear mine!”
 

“Well if I see him about I’ll tell him you’re here.”
 

“Cheers.”
 

***
 

I found the room I was looking for, Arena Manager.  Needed to put handyman on there too I thought, giggling to myself.  I pushed the door open and stumbled in.  Placing the carrier bag I had with me on the table and searching out the lamp switch I sat down on his leather office chair and took an unopened envelope from my handbag.  My hands shook as I slit it across the top and pulled out the contents.  Official documentation filled my grasp, and I read through each sheet carefully.  It told me what I wanted to know, what I needed to know.  Now all I had to do was put the pieces together and develop my plan, and I needed to be careful.
 

Folding the papers carefully and replacing them in my bag.  I noticed, beside the lamp, a list of bands and what appeared to be a tour program beside it.  I flicked through it…quite a few big names.  ‘A charity concert supporting the Make Poverty History campaign’ it said, a ‘gastronomic aural feast’.  I took an Access All Areas pass and putting the lanyard over my head and around my neck, went off to find my brother.
 

I found him in the main arena, fixing chairs, or so it seemed.
 

“Hey,” I yelled.  “What you doing?”
 

“Replacing this fixing,” he yelled back as the band played on, obviously in the middle of a soundcheck.  The chair in question was fairly near the front, about 5 rows back, so we had the full impact of the large speaker rigs.  Later this place would be filled with about 35,000 music lovers, their screams competing with the music.  But for now this place was empty, and the sounds echoed through the vast hall.
 

“You’ve not got enough bass on that mate,” I yelled in the direction of the four lads on stage.  “You need to turn it up a notch, and that lead guitar, not tuned properly, sounds like the E string.”
 

“Who are the performers here?  I think we know what we’re doing,” the young lead singer arrogantly replied.
 

I held my hands up in mock defeat and turned back to Steve, tightening his screws.
 

“Sit on that for us love,” he asked in his cheesy little boys voice.
 

“What so I end up falling flat on me backside?  I don’t think so!”
 

“Have faith.”
 

So I sat down.
 

“Wiggle about like you’re dancing.”
 

So I wiggled, hoping that if there was a god he’d keep this chair fixed secure.
 

“Now stand up and sit down again.  Humour me.”
 

So I stood up, and holding on to the seat in front of me for support, sat down, hard, like I would if I was sitting down after standing up to dance my socks off.  And still the chair stayed fixed firmly to its support.
 

“Wooooooo you fixed it babe,” I said smiling.
 

“See I’m not just a pretty face.”
 

“Hah,” I snorted, then giggled at his hurt look.  “You all done in here?”
 

“Yeah, why where you taking me?”
 

I stood up and grabbed his hand, dragging him back to his office.  “My ears are ringing,” I complained as I perched myself on the edge of his desk.  “I’m out tonight.  Remember Heidi?  Well she rang me and asked me out clubbing tonight, and we’re going for a bite to eat first.  Don’t mind do you?”
 

“As long as you don’t wake me up when you stumble in as drunk as a lord, no.  “Actually it’s kind of worked out well as I…”
 

We both jumped as a loud knock on the door took us both by surprise.
 

“Come in,” Steve called out, looking at his watch and fidgeting.
 

I looked around as I heard the door open.
 

“Steviebaby prepare for the thrill of a lifet…oh.”  The girl, who looked a little older than me, blushed furiously and went to walk back out the door.
 

“Don’t leave on my account, I’m just going…er…”
 

“Laurel.”  She extended a hand to me, which I lightly clasped in my own, returning the greeting.
 

“Hi Laurel I’m Ce, Steve’s sister.”
 

“Oh hi,” she replied, smiling at me, visibly relaxing.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
 

“Shame I can’t say the same,” I muttered looking Steve directly in the eye.
 

He shrank away from my intent stare.  “I…um…what’s in the bag?”
 

”Oh just a new top for tonight.”  I hopped off the desk and went to the door.  “Well I have things to do before I go out tonight, I’ll see you later.”  I winked and left.

Reviews
Lovely!
Written by LynB (435 comments posted) 2nd October 2006
Another fantastic chapter, Ce! You know how much I enjoyed reading this on the other site - it's great to have the chance to read it again! 
 
It's great that you're posting it up on here - your work deserves a wider audience! :)

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