FB - England, London - Nick and Fran's Apartment (May 2004)

[Hollywood Heidi]

Nick and Fran's Apartment

Located in London, England and taking place in May 2004.

[Kristi Lynne]

The laughter was dying down around the Marbury table at their home in Croydon. “Are you sure you don’t want dessert?” Fran inquired, setting coffee cups in front of Gwen and Nick. “Nothing fancy, but we might have some Jaffa cakes in the cupboard.”

Gwen shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine. And thank you very much for dinner; your cooking has greatly improved since the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, I have to cook for two now,” Fran explained, focusing on wiping the carrots from baby Declan’s chin as he bounced happily in his highchair.

“I tried to schedule a tutorial with Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay, but she wouldn’t have it,” Nick said wearily. “Apparently, too much use of the ‘f’ word. Or was it garlic?”

“Both,” Fran replied while removing her son from his chair and transferring him to her lap. Then she turned her attention back to Gwen. “It’s been so good catching up with you, though. We should get together again. How long are you in town for?”

“Just through the weekend,” Gwen answered, sipping her coffee. “I have to fly back on Sunday.”

“Not stopping in to see the folks?” Nick inquired.

“Do you really have to ask?”

Fran’s face lit up with an idea. “We should go shopping. Or go to quiz night at the pub. Give me some quality adult time away from the baby.”

“You’re assuming Gwen can actually carry on an adult conversation,” Nick remarked. “One that doesn’t involve the words ‘tray table’ or pointing out the emergency exits.”

She glanced sidelong at him, making it a point to look only at Fran. “Remind me again why you married him?”

“Hey, he’s your friend; you vouched for him,” Fran stated. “Told me he was brilliant and funny and thoughtful…”

“I was drunk at the time, surely,” Gwen countered. “And I’m almost positive that I warned you against procreating with him.” She reached her hand out to Declan, who attempted grasping at her fingers with his tiny hand.

“Yeah, you did,” Fran nodded. “Sent up a flare and everything. And I even doubled up on my birth control just to make sure.”

“I’m sitting right here!” Nick whined in a wounded tone.

Gwen chose to ignore him. “I see little Declan has his father’s nose. Unfortunately for him.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Fran offered.

“No,” she said quickly. “No, no. You don’t even trust me with your china, Fran. There’s no way I could handle a miniature human being.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine; children are resilient,” Fran insisted, handing the baby over to Gwen. “Just make sure you support his head.”

Gwen felt a little panicked, holding the child with stiff arms made anxious by something so unfamiliar. Were you supposed to rock them, talk to them, sing to them? She’d never even been allowed to hold her younger sister. What was she supposed to do? A few fussy noises in protest of being moved, and Declan finally settled in. His large blue eyes looked up at her and he seemed to smile.

“Hi,” she felt herself whispering. “Hi there, Dec.” She looked up at Fran. “Oh, I just remembered I left the gift bag by the door. Does he like bears?”

“I don’t think he’s formed an opinion on them yet.”

“Well, he should like polar bears, because they’re cool,” Gwen said, letting the baby get a good grip on her finger.

“No pun intended,” Nick remarked.

Fran relaxed into her chair. “So when are you going to have one of your own?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s in the cards.”

“Gwen would have to stay with someone for more than a month for that to happen,” Nick declared.

“Says the guy who had a different girl for every week of school,” Gwen shot back. “You made me keep track. ‘Who am I dating this week, Gwen? Ah, yes, Margaret…’”

“Don’t listen to her, dear,” Nick assured Fran. “She’s drunk again.”

“What about that architect chap?” Fran asked.

“Nathan? Oh, that’s ancient history.”

“What happened?”

“Well, apparently I’m a commitment-phobe,” Gwen answered, attempting to rock Declan as she’d seen Fran do earlier.

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Nick groaned.

“Hmm, well, does Declan know what Daddy got up to at the Fringe Festival right before his O-levels?” Gwen asked in a sing-song voice.

“And Auntie Gwen should preface that amusing anecdote with the fact that she was buying the pints,” Nick reminded her.

“Ugh, worst hangover of my entire life. I believe that was when we started referring to Guinness as the ‘black death’.”

“It wasn’t the Guinness’ fault,” Nick protested. “And give me back my child before you turn him off stout forever.” He held out his hands and she passed the baby to him.

“Anyway, I’m traveling so much these days, it’s tough to meet anyone,” Gwen explained.

“Well, your sister’s wedding is coming up,” Fran said. “Always a good place to meet people.”

“Not my kind of people,” Gwen sighed. “And I’m going under protest; I certainly don’t expect to meet Mr. Right.”

“Look, I know Helena can be annoying,” Nick said, “but she is family. And isn’t it sort of customary for the bridesmaids to actually be at the ceremony?”

“Ah, but I’m not one of the bridesmaids.”

“What?!” Fran and Nick cried in unison. Even Declan let out a brief, insulted cough.

“Eight attendants in Helena’s wedding party, not including me.”

“Bloody cheek,” Nick said.

“Not in front of the baby, dear,” Fran chided him.

“Sorry.”

“It’s just as well,” Gwen said dismissively. “I can wear what I want, and I don’t have to stand in front of everyone and pretend to be happy for her.”

“But you are happy for her?” Fran asked.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Gwen shrugged. “She’s marrying well. That’s all Mum expected from either of us.”

“It’s nice work if you can get it,” Fran said, smiling across at her husband. “But I fear our Gwendolyn is a modern woman, finding fulfillment in having her own home and career and life not hindered by a significant other.”

“I fear our Gwendolyn is just not the marrying type,” Nick clarified. Declan made a happy cooing sound. “See, even the boy agrees with me.”

Suddenly, Gwen’s cellphone began ringing. “Sorry, sorry,” she apologized, grabbing her purse and shuffling through it. “I’ll take it in the study.”

She walked off into the other room, pushed a button and held the phone to her ear. “Hello?...Dad?...Dad, what’s wrong? I can hardly hear you…What?...What do you mean there’s been an accident?...Well, yeah, I’m here in town, but…Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there.”

She returned to the kitchen in a daze. Seeing her expression, Fran immediately became concerned. “Good lord, Gwen, what’s the matter?”

“Um, that was my dad. He…he said Julian’s been in an accident. They don’t, um…they don’t know how bad yet. He’s in surgery right now at…at Lewisham Hospital. I don’t even know where that is.” She tried to pull herself together and gather her things. “I should go. Maybe I can call a cab…”

“Nonsense. Nick will drive you,” Fran insisted. “You know where it is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I went to a seminar there a few weeks ago,” he said, handing Declan back to his mother.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Gwen said.

“You’re not; I’d be glad to take you,” he assured her. “Get your things, let’s go.”

“Thank you. Bye, Fran.” She stopped to hug her goodbye.

“Call me as soon as you know something.”

“I will.”

Nick ushered her to the front door. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he continued. “How many spills has your brother taken on that bike?”

“Several.”

“See? No worries.”

“Right, no worries,” she repeated, nodding slowly.