147No, you've not lost your mind or taken a hallucinogenic: this really is a new story. I've written this to mark the NINTH anniversary since I first sat down in my University halls to pen What Could Have Been. And its been on here for EIGHT years so...here's my gift. I've had this idea floating around in my head since I wrote WCHB because I always wanted to have a shot at writing Poppy Harding (Allie's mother) and Michael Dunham (Pete's dad). This isn't a child fic, it starts with Pete and Allie as children but that's just to get their backstory, we do as always have a signature SignalFire time jump so please bear with this first chapter. We won't be in 90s forever. Although with platform trainers and butterfly clips, I'd personally go back there in a nano second. PLEASE review, is cliché but they truly do keep a gal going.
Thank you to anyone and everyone who continues to read my work. Its mindblowing.
Enjoy. love, Ella. x
Superstitions had never drawn much interest from Moira Dunham; she was never one to cross the street to avoid walking under a ladder, the black cat that stalked their garden every morning never bothered her, nor did the odd broken mirror, which being the mother of two boys was something she had to get used to whether she liked it or not.
A lucky number had always been her favourite…how the hell did anyone have a lucky number? Or worse a favourite? What in God's name did that even mean?
But now she realised how people came to acquire a beloved number. Because lord knows, she had several she hated.
Like the number 46, which was in pounds the current balance of her bank account.
3 was the temperature in degrees of her two bedroomed semi-detached house.
9 was the number of holes she had counted in Steve's school jumper two weeks after buying it.
And of course 5. Which was the number of job interviews she had gone to in the last four hours and been knocked back from every single one.
"Shit it," she whispered brokenly, pushing the newspaper away and slumping in her chair. She had to be at the hospital for her shift in a few hours and knew she should get some sleep but how could she?
Between Michael's extracurricular activities putting him out of work more and more often, they were struggling on the salary of a nurse. Steve had turned thirteen just last month and was apparently going on 35 what with all the money he needed and as for Pete…
A distinct crash sounded from upstairs and she sighed, shaking her head and fighting to keep her temper.
"That had better 'ave been something of yours going flying, Peter Dunham!" she shouted. "Because if you've broken another one of my figurines, so help me Christ…"
Hurrying down the hallway, she came to a stop at the bottom of the narrow stairs and glanced up, concerned when she saw nothing.
"Pete?" she coaxed.
"Piss it!" came a small hiss followed by an even louder bang.
"Watch your mouth!" Moira barked, taking the stairs as fast as her legs which were rigid with the cold would allow her to. "I can't leave you alone for four bloody seconds in this…"
She trailed off, her mouth going dry as she looked at her son sat on the landing, his blonde hair sticking to his head as water dripped down his face, a rusty looking wrench in his hand and a good half of the radiator dial smashed to bits on the floor.
"You said you was cold," Pete shrugged, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I've seen dad do this a million times so I thought I'd be able to fix it,"
He snorted and chucked the wrench down onto the wooden floor, casting a glance up at his mother who worryingly was yet to utter a syllable in his direction.
"I'll Cellotape it back together," he gestured to the mess on the floor. "That's what Steve did with the door handle on the fridge and dad didn't notice for at least an hour,"
Long enough for Steve to start running any at rate, he thought with a bitter laugh.
"Oh sweetheart," Moira shook her head, her heart breaking as she realised that most other boys were probably just home from school watching cartoons and shoving every artificial flavour known to man down their gullets and here was her son trying to fix a radiator because he didn't realise the sad truth was, they had no heating because they had no money.
Sitting down next to him, she pulled him into a hug not in the least bit surprised when he hugged her back fiercely; unlike his brother, Pete had a way with people. He always knew what they needed without having to be asked.
"You're alright, don't worry," she leaned her cheek on the top of his head and tried to keep her voice steady. "We'll tell Dad it burst, we need a new one anyway,"
"We need a lot of new stuff," Pete mumbled, staring at the hole in the bottom of his school shoes which of course were yet another hand-me-down from Steve.
Hating herself more than she could recall from reason memory in that one moment, Moira bit her lip to keep from crying and shuffled away from her son, turning to him and giving him her best everything-is-alright grin.
"Well I've got a spare fiver in my bag so what do you say we go to the bakery before the cavemen get home and see what we can find?"
"Can I get football stickers if we have enough change?" Pete grinned, his eyes glittering mischievously.
"Cheeky sod," Moira laughed, playfully ruffling his hair. "I'll see what I can do, now come on before Swill gets there first and eats the lot."
She watched as he laughed, scrambling to his feet, slipping once or twice in the water which was still dripping from the radiator and raced to his room. Her boy. He never asked for anything, had so little and still didn't complain. He was as good as gold in her eyes, now it was just a case of holding up her end of the bargain and making sure he got as good as he deserved.
"I want the strawberry one like that little girl has,"
Poppy Harding glanced at the honey haired girl next to her and frowned.
"NOW!"
Poppy took in a deep breath and smiled at the man behind the till, trying her best to ignore the little slip of a thing currently elbowing her in the side. She saw sympathy in his eyes and smiled even wider, desperately trying to control her temper as the small blonde began thumping on the glass.
"Tillie!" A tall brunette pulled her away from the counter and scolded her half-heartedly whilst peering intently at her newspaper. "Don't do that,"
The mother glanced up then, catching Poppy's eye and smiling broadly; she was all lip fillers and baking soda white teeth.
"Aren't they terrible at this age?"
"Little horrors," Poppy laughed through gritted teeth knowing there was no realm in the universe in which her daughter would ever behave like that.
"Wouldn't change them for the world though, would we?"
"I WANT THE STRAWBERRY ONE!"
"Nope," Poppy cocked her head as she stared down at what may have very well been the spawn of Satan. "She is an utter...darling,"
"You are an utter liar," the man behind the counter grinned as the mother escorted her daughter from the small shop, the chubby cheeked brat happily munching into the strawberry shortcake cookie in her hand.
"Me?" Poppy placed a hand over her heart in mock outrage. "Shame on you, I'm officially insulted."
"Not as insulted as I am that the little princess isn't here with you," he peered over the counter.
"She's at home," Poppy smiled. "I thought I'd surprise her with her favourite. Christ knows I can't bake it so…"
"So you come to me to do the dirty work and you take all the credit?" the man grinned, dramatically flapping one of the paper bags and tutting at her. "You wound me,"
The Fernandez family bakery had been one of her favourite spots in London since she was a teenager; granted it meant a trip all the way over to the east of the city every now and then but when the chocolate fudge cake was this good, it was more than justifiable.
"So how's she doing at school this term?" Gio Fernandez asked, carefully assembling one of the large boxes to place the cake into. "Is she still-…"
"Oi, get off!"
Poppy turned towards the window and frowned, just able to make out the ruckus going on. She watched as a blonde boy no more than Allie's age shoved a taller boy backwards only to have one of this friends step forward and clock him right in the jaw.
"One second, Gio," she mumbled, not caring that she had left her purse on the counter as she scrambled through the queue of people and burst through the door out into the street. The boy was still laying on the ground, blood dripping from his lip onto the concrete.
"Thanks, Petey!"
Her head shot up and she saw the older boys smirking from down the street, one of them waving what looked like a £5 note in the air.
"You're a diamond."
"Wankers,"
The mumbled profanity made her grin and she crouched down, wincing when she saw how deep the split in his lip was. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and pushed himself onto his knees, freezing when he came face to face with the greenest eyes he'd ever seen in his life. The woman was…well she was gorgeous. In that old black and white movie star kind of way. She had a pixie haircut, layers of soft blonde framing her face and a kind smile that told him she wasn't about to verbally kick his arse or call the police. Glancing at her expensive looking clothes, he wondered what the hell she was doing in this side of town. Oh fuck, maybe she was one of those Bible bashers who was going to try and convert him to some cult.
"I fell," he told her quickly, backing away just a tiny bit.
"Well that's impressive," she nodded, her lips pursed. "I've never fallen face first onto someone's fist before. And I'm clumsy, trust me,"
She caught the slight smirk on his lips and felt at ease; this kid had to be no more than Allie's age, maybe a year between them. His bright blue eyes bore into hers and she felt her heart sink when she realised they were shining with tears.
"That fiver was meant to get my mum a cake," he rubbed his scuffed palms on his school trousers and wrinkled his nose at the trail of blood they left. "She gave me that and I let them…"
"First off," Poppy prodded his knee with a perfectly manicured finger. "You didn't them do anything, they're vile little gits. Secondly, you're in luck. I happen to know that Gio is about to throw out a cake that someone hasn't bothered to pick up so…it's yours for the taking." She shrugged. "You know that is if you like chocolate fudge with most kids don't so…"
"Seriously?" Pete grinned, ignoring the pain in his lip. "He's giving it away for free?"
"Yeah," Poppy shook her head. "I think he's nuts but…if he's got a taker…"
"Yeah!" He pulled himself to his feet and straightened his jumper, giving Poppy the shock of her life when he reached down and took her arm, pulling her to her feet gently. "You alright, you didn't get mud on you or nothing?"
Her heart melted and she smiled down at him.
"No, I'm alright," she winked. "Now come on, lets go get some cake and forget about those wankers,"
Pete's mouth dropped open and he stared at her wide eyed, trying to work out if he'd heard her right.
"Tell no one," she mouthed, holding the door open for him and gently pushing him through. Ignoring the questioning look Gio gave her, she proceeded to order another chocolate cake before tapping her finger on the box on the counter. "This is the one that was going in the bin wasn't it?" she met his eyes and nodded slowly. "Its just this young man would be more than happy to take it off your hands,"
"Oh," Gio nodded as he caught on, grinning and clapping his hands. "Absolutely, thank you, young sir,"
"Cheers," Pete nodded, taking the box and beaming up at the lady who had helped him. "And thank you, too. Mum will be well chuffed with this,"
"Where is your mum?" Poppy wondered, craning her neck to peer out onto the street again as Gio handed her her change.
"Job hunting," Pete shrugged. "Well, she says she's gone to the post office but I know she's looking at them crappy jobs they put in the window. You know cleaning and stuff."
Poppy fought to keep any sympathy off of her face knowing that that was the last thing this kid probably needed but her heart was breaking. Following him out of the shop, she walked beside him slowly, opening her box of cookies and handing him one before shoving one into her own mouth.
"Don't worry," she winked as he stared at her. "My kids are used to this, if I come home with 5 left out of a box of 20 then it's a victory."
Chuckling, Pete crunched down on the still warm chocolate cookie, his stomach rumbling gratefully.
"So your mum is a cleaner?" Poppy asked, wiping a crumb from her coat.
"Nah, she's a nurse," the boy answered. "A proper one, does all the injections and stuff. But we don't have enough money. My Dad don't work much anymore and there's me and my brother to look after so she's looking for someone else."
"Two jobs?" she let out a long breath. Alongside two kids. And a husband.
"Yeah well," Pete shrugged. "We'll win the lottery one day, that's what she always says."
Poppy cast her eyes up to the sky for a moment and stopped at her car, trying not to notice the look on Pete's face as he stared open mouthed at the silver land rover.
"Let me borrow that," she gestured to the cake box he was holding and crooked her finger at him when he just stared at her confused. "Come on, I'm not crazy, I promise."
She took the box from him and uncapping her pen with her teeth, scrawled her name and number across the top.
"Do me a favour," she smiled, crouching down to his level. "Tell your mum to call me, I think I might be able to help her out on the job front. And its even stuff she could do from home if she wanted,"
"I uh…we don't need…"
"Its not charity," Poppy met his gaze dead on. "Tell her to call me and pop over whenever she likes," she climbed into her car and grinned, rolling down the window. "And you can come too." She winked. "Bring cake,"
Pete watched as she drove off, still clutching the cake with the woman's name written on it.
Poppy. Pretty name.
Grinning as he watched her car disappear down the street, looking hopelessly out of place amidst the worn down houses, he felt something in his chest, a warmth that told him for whatever reason, that woman was about to change all their lives for the better.
This was a first chapter so be gentle with it. I haven't written anything for a long while so I'm still getting back into the groove if you like. The next chapter is more entertaining, plus et to meet the infamous Michael Dunham and the Harding clan as well as the boys. The route this story takes will be very different to WCHB so bear with me. Love as always, El xxx