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Post by Hanna Squalor on Feb 25, 2007 22:08:16 GMT -5
While Esme stretched out in the sun Jerome found Carmelita in an ice cream shop across the street, with her parents. She had found them like Esme said. Why was she always right? It was infuriating.
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Post by Jenny on Feb 26, 2007 13:58:13 GMT -5
Jerome ran up to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. The two adults-- one an exact older replica of Carmelita herself-- looked back at him very strangely.
You ran off!' he panted, relieved to no end to have finally found her.
'You were too busy kissing to notice,' said Carmelita bitterly. 'And anyway, look. I found my parents.'
Jerome nodded at the two adults behind her. They nodded back-- her father was incredibly short, with a puffy face and bright orange hair, and her mother was tall and a little chubby with freckles and curls like her daughter. Neither of them seemed to know anything about the situation.
'Why, Carmelita,' one of them said. 'Are you on a school trip? You're in a school term at the moment, aren't you?'
Carmelita's eyes darted to Jerome. Jerome wished Esmé was there to explain.
'She...we...'
'Unofficially adopted me,' she finished airily. 'I got lost in the Mortmain Mountains. Esmé-- who's sunbathing-- and,' here Carmelita thought for a moment. '...Someone else found me, and I stayed with them for a while. Jerome's the chef,' she finished.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Feb 26, 2007 18:01:21 GMT -5
Esme looked up from her chair. She saw him across the street through the white picked fence that separated beach from street. Where Briny Beach was un pleasantly rocky underfoot, this beach was a prime vacation spot, made by rich people fore rich people.
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Post by Jenny on Feb 27, 2007 14:12:29 GMT -5
Jerome sighed, unsure whether he was happy with the part he'd been given.
'...Yes,' he said hesitantly. 'Yes, that's right. I'm the chef.'
The Spats parents looked back at him in disbelief.
'And why,' Mrs Spats began. 'Is the chef at the beach?'
'Because,' Carmelita said immediately in reply, as if speaking to a small child. 'Esmé-- sunbathing--is now dating said chef instead of the last person.' here, while Jerome attempted to explain properly, Carmelita nudged her mother. 'Between you and me, I don't get her logic.'
'No,' said Jerome. 'No, no, I'm not the chef. And, technically, we're married--'
'She MARRIED the chef?' Mr Spats muttered as if this was a heinous crime.
'No, I'm not the chef,' Jerome attempted.
Mrs Spats' eyes narrowed. 'You told me you were the chef.'
Jerome stuttered hopelessly. '....Well.....I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding.'
'So, to summarize,' Carmelita said loudly. 'Basically, this person here,' she motioned to Jerome. 'He's a chef, but not the chef, he hasn't got much money--' Jerome spluttered at hearing his only really desirable asset put down. 'We-- that's me, and Esmé who's sunbathing--are currently living with him, whereas the person we lived with before seems to have, well... dissappeared. Along with several of your credit cards,' she said to Jerome.
Jerome had to hold on to the counter to keep his knees from giving way. Luckily, Esmé finally decided to make an appearance, holding a hand out to Mr. Spats, which Mrs.Spats took.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Feb 28, 2007 18:44:13 GMT -5
"Hello, Petunia." Esme smiled, always the hostess, even in a bikini. "How are you?" she asked.
"Quite disturbed. I heard you married this chef." She said snootily.
"Now, now i see Carmelita's acting lessons have been paying off. She is quite the liar sometimes. This is Jerome Squalor, my husband." she said.
"Oh the East Coast Squalors? You're first husband. Oh hello! Jerome! Darling! How could i not have recognized you. Most rich men are horribly ugly and you have anyways been so handsome. Now that you've so graciously returned our child you must visit us." she gushed.
Esme smiled, her face told Jerome that she had known exactly how to build him up.
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Post by Jenny on Mar 1, 2007 14:53:22 GMT -5
Carmelita wasn't paying much attention--more intersted in her ice cream than in the conversation.
'You know we were ever so worried about you,' Mr. Spats commented without the slightest bit of sincerity. 'Especially when it was reported that none of those Snow Scouts returned from their trip.'
'Yes, we almost contacted the school.' said Mrs. Spats. 'But we knew you'd be alright.'
Esmé interrupted. 'Yes, we must visit you.' she rubbed back Carmelita's ginger curls affectionately-- or, with as much affection as she could muster-- and smiled. 'I'd much like to see Carmelita again, too. I'll miss her.'
'I'll stay with--'
'You must be so glad to see your parents again,' Jerome offerred. He liked her, but he couldn't deny he'd be glad to see her go back to her parents instead of home with him.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Mar 1, 2007 15:53:12 GMT -5
Esme pulled Jerome away quickly. "Now that the brat is out of the picture I do need your help. Let's not pretend we don't know about each other's past in the organization. You were a volunteer, as was I. I need you to help me find Olaf." Esme spoke quietly as she sat in the sand under the umbrella. Jerome seemed to understand. "I mean how long can we pretend that we aren't married to the other side of the schism?" Esme asked.
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Post by Jenny on Mar 1, 2007 17:02:22 GMT -5
Jerome sat down. The first thing that came to mind still at the word 'volunteer' was Beatrice and the Baudelaires. He still felt he owed them so much more.
She looked out to the sea as if she hoped to find the man she was looking for immediately out there on the water. Jerome sighed, but he reached a hand to hers.
'I love you.'
She didn't turn to him, she looked out at the sun and smiled a little to herself.
'I know.' she muttered. 'And it doesn't do you any good.'
Jerome was fully away that was no reciprocation.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Mar 1, 2007 17:10:45 GMT -5
"I know how good you are at reading and finding things. It was your specialty. You and and the other library geeks were so close during school. While I was being taught acting in the theater you were taking in so many books. I need you're help. I want to find the sugar bowl. If you help me, I'll stay with you." Esme offered. Jerome looked up from where he had been strokcing her knee absently. She pressed his hand to her chest. "I'll love you, if you help me." Esme was a fabulous actress, and when she put her blonde curls on his chest he melted for her. But only for a moment as he remembered.
"You always loved the acting teacher. I remember watching you from under my tree." he said quietly.
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Post by Jenny on Mar 2, 2007 14:28:28 GMT -5
Esmé remembered watching him, too. Sometimes she would look over at where several volunteer researchers sat behind their books and smirk a little before she would catch him looking. She never learnt his name until she heard Beatrice refer to him.
Poor Jerome, she'd said. And it explained everything.
Was he unaware of who the acting teacher was? She certainly thought it was obvious enough. Yet again, this was Jerome she was talking to. He didn't plot, he didn't plan and he definitely didn't study disguise.
'Never mind about that,' she said eventually. 'Just help me.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Mar 2, 2007 15:32:58 GMT -5
"Please help me." she repeated, placing a hand on his chest next her her head. She was his greatest weakness and as such she was the key to his heart.
"Yes. Yes." he repeated it too as if it gave him both grief and relief.
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Post by Jenny on Mar 2, 2007 15:40:29 GMT -5
There wasn't much point in staying at the beach much longer. Jerome packed up, Esmé just wrapped herself in her white dress and drew her hat a little down over her eyes. He kissed her when she stood as if after their agreement he had the opportunity to be more affectionate.
His parent's house was only a short walk away, and they were there in no time. They explained to Charles about Carmel;ita and pretended not to see his absolute relief.
They sat down together that evening. Jerome wasn't sure what he would exactly get out of the deal-- she said she would stay with him, but he knew what that really meant. It meant he'd live in his expensive house and spend his money but she would be with someone else.
Well, if she ever found him.
Jerome allowed himself a little smile.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Mar 2, 2007 15:51:38 GMT -5
Esme gave Jerome an old piece of paper. It was a long list. Several things had been crossed off. "These are my questions Jerome. Remember in school when we made these. Mine kept growing. Most of these are about Olaf and his accomplices. I need to know about them before I know about your side. That's where your research comes into play." she explained.
"And for all that work I'll get?" he asked raising an eyebrow.
"A big hug." she smiled.
"I was thinking-"
"I thought you didn't like to argue." Esme pointed out.
"I don't. But I've never said anything about negotiating."
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Post by Jenny on Mar 2, 2007 16:02:09 GMT -5
She sat back, surprised at him. Jerome looked uncharacteristically defiant.
'I used to get paid for my research,' he mused.
She snorted in a very un-ladylike way. 'You hardly need me to pay you,' she commented. He raised a hand.
'No,' he said. 'But I'm not prepared to do everything for nothing.'
'I'm not sure I'm prepared to listen to a business proposal from a man who's never worked a day in his life.'
'I'm not sure I need to be told that by a woman that is incapable of doing her own research,' Jerome said quietly. It verged on an argument before he passed the paper between his hands.
'He'll die, you know,' said Jerome bluntly, but gently. 'One day. Soon. A lot sooner than we ever will.' She looked down and away.
'I'll still be alive,' he continued. 'But it isn't as if that makes a lot of difference to you.'
Esmé could scarcely believe the change in character. Was this what Jerome had wanted to say to her all that time after she left?
She regained a certain amount of dignity. She was better than him and she always felt she knew that.
'Just do the work,' she said impatiently. 'And then you can sort out your own reward.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Mar 2, 2007 16:07:18 GMT -5
"I thought the original deal was you." Jerome said before she could even leave.
"It was. I said I would stay." Esme said quietly, almost timid, Jerome could have been hiding in character all these years or his book may have changed him but what was certain was she wasn't about to push his buttons like before.
The newspaper had described the hotel fire as "The beginning of the end" and she new anything was possible. "You said you would stay but that isn't really much of anything. The marriage vows you took meant you'll stay and that never held you back." he said matter-of-factly.
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