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Post by Jenny on Nov 25, 2006 14:32:22 GMT -5
She was in tears-- angry, frustrated tears--as he examined the phone bill, the letter from Jacques, and a few other smaller things she'd taken out (such as a bill from the In Boutique from three months ago).
He took time reading them, and she made no move to stop him. He let her have the first word on everything, standing in silence and looking over at her expectantly.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 25, 2006 22:02:22 GMT -5
"Well?" was all she managed. She blinked away tears so she could see his reaction to these things. It was the phone bill that disturbed her the most. The frequnet calls were worse than the out dated letter.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 9:51:17 GMT -5
She'd called Jacques--over the past three months-- more than she'd called him. The calls had sometimes only lasted a couple of seconds (the first few, maybe he was hanging up), but then lasted for hours later on. Her phone bill was enormous for the hours she'd spent on the phone to him.
The letter-- it didn't really bother him what it said, some typical stupid love letter, he imagined-- was dated about four months ago, and whether or not she and Jacques were together then what bothered Olaf was that she still kept in. It was worn, torn at the edges and old.
She must have read it a lot.
He folded everything and gave the things back. 'A long time ago?' he said, motioning the the phone bill. 'That was what you said it was. A long time ago. Doesn't seem that long ago to me. In fact, if I remember correctly, even four months ago-- the oldest thing you've got-- we were very much together. Do I deserve an explanation, or are you going to phone Jacques instead?'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 10:00:02 GMT -5
Esme concentrated on making the air go in and out of her lungs, as it seemed it was the only thing she could do at the moment. "I...I-...." she tried to start but it wouldn't come out. Olaf was looking madder every second so she tried again.
"I love you very much. But... you scare me to death. I never know when you'll come back when you leave, you drink excessively, sometimes you're violent, and I never know if you love me back... Jacques ..is... is...." Sweet the word echoed and showed itself in front of her eyes but she couldn't say it. "Reliable." she finished with a lie.
Swallowing hard she watched Olaf's every move. She hadn't physically seen Jacques since she had gotten the letter though. That's why the phone bills were so much. Esme made a lot of money now. More than Olaf knew about. A good amount went into these bills and more of it bought clothing. He knew she had shopping issues...ever since that night at the opera but she knew it wasn't the shopping bills he cared about.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 10:21:16 GMT -5
I love you very much.
'You 'love me very much',' he repeated, nodding slowly. 'Right. Enough to be your second choice, I suppose?'
She opened her mouth to reply to the statement, but he continued. 'I 'drink excessively.',' he said to himself. She wasn't sure entirely what he was doing. 'You think? I'm 'sometimes violent.' I--' he was about to protest that he remembered nothing about ever being violent with or around her, but then decided that the drink and the violence went together quite nicely.
He brushed past her, and she followed him down the stairs and into the sitting room. He reached behind the ratty old couch, and brought out a bottle of red wine, popping the cork and pouring into a glass for himself. He'd been cutting back, she remembered. Or so she thought.
He shrugged after a moment. 'Ah, well. Looks like we're all stuck with our second choice, doesn't it?'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 10:29:21 GMT -5
No! No! no..." Esme repeated as if that word was enough to explain. "No.. I meant that Jacques isn't like you and he could never compare to how much I love you, I just feel like sometimes I need someone to talk to...."
"I adore you. I would sooner kill myself than give you up willingly, but think of some of the times we've had. They aren't all good. Just count the times you've made me drink that red wine and you know I hate the god damn stuff." Esme pointed out. She didn't mean forced the stuff down her throat. She meant all the times he had ordered it for her in restaurants and all the times he poured it for her at supper.
She was still holding all the things he had examined in her hands. She dug though the hand bag until she found her cell phone. "This is the only number Jacques knows how to reach me at." she said before letting the silver phone slip through her fingers and hit the floor and smash the delicate technology to pieces.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 10:41:16 GMT -5
'Excuse me for buying you something nice to drink,' he said sarcastically. 'I never forced a glass at you.'
At the smash of the cell phone he didn't seem impressed. 'Like that proves anything,' he murmured over the rim of his third glass, seeing everything through eyes tinted with alcohol and bitterness. 'All I see is that now you have to use more of that money of yours to buy a better phone. And I've no doubt that if you needed to reach that Snicket boy you'd have no trouble finding his location-- or he'd have no trouble finding yours. I know you, and you'll hide what you want for as long as you can if you think it'll help you.'
He was silent for a few seconds. She was similar, but also stunned.
'If you want Jacques,' Olaf decided, pouring the last of the wine and chucking it down his throat. 'Go find him.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 10:56:55 GMT -5
"One could say the same about Kit." Esme strode over and grabbed the empty wine bottle from his hand. "You love this bottle more than me. Or maybe not.... this one's empty."
It fell the the floor with a clunk. She wanted his full attention so she sat on his lap. "Look. I like to talk to Jacques. But he's just a boy. He falls all over himself if I stand to close to him. I'm much more in love with a man who drives me nuts but... I owe you so so much. You picked up out of those ashes." Esme reasoned.
When her house had burnt down while she was at school a very young Esme was found afterward kneeling in the ashes with her school uniform on. White tights covered in ash and blue dress completely filthy. She had been crying there for hours. A pair of hand picked her up. A young man of about twenty. she didn't know then just how many years she would spend with him. That five year old sat on him now at twenty years old.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 11:13:46 GMT -5
(Awww!)
He looked up at her. At that moment-- if only her hair had been long, blonde and in a plait-- she looked the spitting image of the five-year-old he'd taken pity on. Sober, he hated to think about who else might have come across her first. He never mentioned to her his part in burning her house to the ground--- after all, he hadn't known her then. Returning to the scene of the crime was something he often did, and he'd let himelf feel guilty for once and taken her in.
She got skinny after that-- all the food he didn't buy her-- and he was never aware of which days she went to school, or if she went at all. He assumed she must have done, but never in a uniform after it got far too small for her and he hadn't the money to replace it, in order to get her job certain qualifications were needed. He didn't know where she got them-- or if, in fact, she was lying-- or where he'd been all the years she'd needed him.
He sighed, eyes feeling strange. He blinked away whatever was stinging his eyes, but they came back, more insistent.
It must be the alcohol.
She made an almost satisfied sound, climbing off him and sitting on her knees beside him.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 11:32:47 GMT -5
"Don't ever think that I don't hold you in a high regard. I adore you. Don't you forget that. And it's true that I've been making more money than you knew of but I did put a lot of it into getting you something. She ran to her coat on the wall and pulled something out of the pocket.
Olaf dressed more formal a lot of time. The same outfits a lot lacked a certain fresh flash about them. The diamond on the tie pin would pull his clothing together with a class that Esme had always pictured him with. She opened the case and handed it to him. "This doesn't begin to describe how much I thank you for taking me in when everyone thought I was dead."
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 11:42:54 GMT -5
(Again: Awww!)
He had to admit, that must have been expensive.
After examination, he could safely say it wasn't fake (he'd suspected that initially).He could also say that it must have cost her more than he could hope to earn.
He took it after a little while, smiling slightly, before a thought hit him. He quietly replaced the lid on the box and handed it back to her. 'This is as noble a move I make, Esmé,' he said. 'But you can't possibly give this to me. For one thing, you have someone else to give it to--I have a feeling that with Jerome's upbringing he knows plenty about diamonds, and there's no one you can't blind and bribe with jewels like this-- and for another, taking you in was no act of kindness. More of guilt.' he placed the box in her hand again and sat looking at his lap, wondering what in Hell he was doing.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 11:51:15 GMT -5
"Guilt?" she asked. She had no idea what he was talking about. What in the world could her saver, caregiver (sort of..) and now lover have to feel guilty about?
She wasn't about to give this gift to anyone else. It would make her sick to see it someone else. Olaf looked away. "Tell me please." Esme begged slowly lowering the velvet box.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 12:02:55 GMT -5
What a twist to the evening.
Just a few minutes previous Olaf was making her feel guilty about Jacques and the things she his from him. Now he was confessing to something far more important.
She might never want to see him again after this. She might think better of her decision and live on her own. After all, how could you trust someone who had destroyed the lives of your family, and ultimately yours when you were a child?
'Your parents,' he said darkly. 'I did more than pick you up out of the ashes.' he coughed. 'I lit the match.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 26, 2006 12:09:40 GMT -5
"I can't say I'm all that surprised. I will not take back anything I've said. Take my gift." she said firmly and stood, she leaf the room. One thing talking to Jacques had done for her was give her knowledge. She had learned of Olaf's involvement in her parent's death many years ago.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 26, 2006 12:13:53 GMT -5
What? Was she that heartless?
Jacques was the only possible explanation for all this. Either Jacques or Kit.
The box sat in his hand and he smiled. He couldn't complain.
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