Post by Kira & Lee Norris on Mar 2, 2008 21:47:44 GMT
So, here came a complete role reversal.
"Lee!"
Here they were, then.
Lee stood up at the table, waving at the unmistakable figure of his mother crossing the shop towards him. Mrs Norris was a petite woman; slender with an angular frame. Today, like most days, her long dark wavy hair was swept back into a ponytail, and as she reached him, a little breathlessly, she swept him into a shy embrace.
Lee's mother was a soft, kind and warm woman... at least, when she was in a good mood. And she had a wicked sense of humour, albeit it was slightly twisted. Mrs Norris loved to cook, and always smelled as though she'd just come out of the kitchen; always a wonderful, rich smell of baking. And when she wasn't cooking, she liked nothing better than to sit around with a few friends and gossip. Aunt Rachel, who never really was one to volunteer for conversation, could easily sit for hours listening to his mother babble on and on uninterrupted.
She was overbearing, at times too, and worried far too much for her own good. And of course, when she was in a bad mood, you knew about it, because suddenly, she was finding fault with every aspect of your appearance, your attitude, the house and herself. Mrs Norris was creative too; in the worst possible way. Sometimes (Lee shuddered at the thought), when he was younger, she would hug him in public on purpose; not an affectionate embrace- a literally rib-cracking squeeze- just to get him to behave herself. Sometimes, in (unfortunately) more recent years, she would purposefully stop in front of a gang of teenagers in Dublin if she felt he was being particularly cheeky, turn, call him loud, embarrasing pet names, and if she could, plant a large kiss on his cheek before he'd a chance to defend himself. Lee would always wrench himself free, his cheeks and ears burning as he bent his head in shame, whilst his peers exploded into shrieks of laughter.
Today, however, as his mother let go of him, Lee wasn't embarrassed, just pleased to see her. She seemed to recognise this, and appreciate it, because something in her dark eyes seemed to twinkle as she sat down beside him; for once, perfectly silent.
His father followed behind her, and stopped, at Lee's right-hand side, smiling at his son. Only about an inch or so taller than Lee himself, the two found themselves eye to eye. Then, something strange happened, that Lee had never really had the experience of before.
Mr Norris held out his hand for Lee to shake.
Mr Norris wasn't a tall man, nor in the least bit intimidating; much in contrast to Maddie's own dad. Lee had inherited his father's build, and main features, but his dark, wavy hair and his nose came from his mother. Mr Norris was slightly solider than Lee; and slightly broader in the chest and shoulders. And when Lee shook his hand, he could feel the hard callousses and sores that came from being such a handyman.
Lee's father and uncle were a perfect match. Older brother and younger brother; both worked together in a seamlessly to create and build. Lee's uncle was a thinker; and whatever he thought about, he wrote about, and drew. Then, Lee's father took these plans, and made them a reality. Like Lee, Lee's father thrived on working through the logical processes of things- he enjoyed the challenge of working out how to fit everything together, and had basically become the neighbourhood handyman. And he was a good-humoured man; well-liked and respected. And as kids, Bethany and Lee always knew that their dad was an old softie at heart. He never liked to discipline them; he'd just give them a warning, ruffle their hair and let them off the hook.
Lee let go first, sitting down and gesturing for his father to do the same. His mother sat, watching her husband a little agitatedly, as he slowly sank into his seat.
The second he'd sat down, Mrs Norris leaned forward greedily across the table.
"Well, Lee, what's she like?"
There was a unified groan from Lee and his father, and both slumped forward slightly; because both had been expecting it.
Mrs Norris wasn't particularly amused. "Lee, come on, you can't keep me in suspense. I've been dying, Lee, just dying to know more. So, is she French? Is she blonde? Blue-eyed?"
"Mum, I-"
"Vicky, you are going to meet this girl in roughly 5 minutes or less. Don't you think this can wait?" Lee's father said tiredly.
She shot him a filthy look. "John, I have every right to know-"
"- what your future daughter-in-law is like, yes, yes, and you will, just not yet."
Lee suppressed a smile as his mother's colour rose a little. His father, apparently unaware of this, turned conversationally to Lee.
"So, how's school?"
"Oh, fine," Lee smiled vaguely. "You know. School-like."
"School's always school-like," his father laughed. "What's it actually like?"
"The work's alright," Lee relented. "But the real exams don't start until my final year. For now, it's just coursework."
"And Spy training?"
"Yeah, lots of that."
"Glad to hear it- really, I am," his father nodded solemnly, his eyes darkening. "Your mother and I... well, after you lost your memory... I'm not going to lie to you, Lee. It was hell."
Lee felt his throat close slightly, unaccustomed to the slight edge to his father's voice. There was a tense pause, lasting for just a few seconds, the suddenly, his father shook his head, and the black clouds disappeared.
"It's not so wet here as in Ireland, is it?"
"More snowy," Lee breathed, his chest relaxing. "It's not so damp; but it is just as cold. To be honest, there isn't really too much of a difference-"
"Oh, look, John! They have pineapple creams!"
"That's nice, but do they have coffee?"
"Of course they have coffee. Everywhere has coffee."
"Black coffee?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. I'll have that."
"John!"
"Yes, Vicky? Is there a special on the scones?"
She looked a little deflated for a second, then shook herself, her eyes narrowing. "You're teasing me."
A grin flashed across his face. "I might be."
"Feckin'..."
"You can tell this one's Irish," Lee's father laughed, jerking his thumb at Vicky.
She pursed her lips, and closed her eyes; her code for, 'I'm not really mad at you, but I don't want to laugh, so I'm going to pretend to be mad at you anyway'.
"Go on, Vic," Mr Norris appeared to be enjoying himself now. "Is there a special or not?"
"What would you like, Lee?" Her eyes opened, and she focused on her son instead. "Coffee? Tea? Oh, look, those little German biscuits..."
"I'll just have a coffee, thanks," Lee smiled.
"And what about Madeleine? What will she have?"
"Coffee, definitely."
His mother paused, her head now bent over the menu, but Lee could tell she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Really? Doesn't she like anything else?"
"No, she always takes coffee. She thinks tea tastes like cat p- I mean," Lee caught himself just in time. "She thinks tea's a little flavourless."
"Tea's really more of a British thing anyway, isn't it?"
"Vicky."
"What?" she jumped, looking up with an innocent smile at John. "It is, isn't it?"
He rolled his eyes. "Wait, Vicky. You have to wait."
"You ready to order?" A waitress had appeared at their table; a pretty girl, with a dimple in her cheek. She smiled at them expectantly, and Lee nodded, eager to move on the conversation.
"Two black coffees, one cappucinno and one cup of the strongest coffee you've got," Lee smiled.
"Yep, got it," the girl said, jotting it down quickly, and walking back across the shop, weaving in and out of the little tables as she went. Vicky watched her thoughtfully, her smile fading, before she looked back at Lee.
"D'you think she's a pretty girl, Lee?"
Lee jumped. "Er, I... em, I don't know."
"Of course you do," his mother smiled. "She's lovely. She's got such nice eyes, doesn't she? Very dark, very pretty..." she trailed off, pushing the menu away from her, and casually leaned back in her seat. "What colour are Madeleine's eyes, Lee?"
"Vicky!"
"Oh for goodness' sake, John, I'm only human!" she cried miserably.
"Five minutes, can't you just wait five- ?"
"You don't have to wait," Lee interrupted suddenly, standing up to wave. "She's here."
"Lee!"
Here they were, then.
Lee stood up at the table, waving at the unmistakable figure of his mother crossing the shop towards him. Mrs Norris was a petite woman; slender with an angular frame. Today, like most days, her long dark wavy hair was swept back into a ponytail, and as she reached him, a little breathlessly, she swept him into a shy embrace.
Lee's mother was a soft, kind and warm woman... at least, when she was in a good mood. And she had a wicked sense of humour, albeit it was slightly twisted. Mrs Norris loved to cook, and always smelled as though she'd just come out of the kitchen; always a wonderful, rich smell of baking. And when she wasn't cooking, she liked nothing better than to sit around with a few friends and gossip. Aunt Rachel, who never really was one to volunteer for conversation, could easily sit for hours listening to his mother babble on and on uninterrupted.
She was overbearing, at times too, and worried far too much for her own good. And of course, when she was in a bad mood, you knew about it, because suddenly, she was finding fault with every aspect of your appearance, your attitude, the house and herself. Mrs Norris was creative too; in the worst possible way. Sometimes (Lee shuddered at the thought), when he was younger, she would hug him in public on purpose; not an affectionate embrace- a literally rib-cracking squeeze- just to get him to behave herself. Sometimes, in (unfortunately) more recent years, she would purposefully stop in front of a gang of teenagers in Dublin if she felt he was being particularly cheeky, turn, call him loud, embarrasing pet names, and if she could, plant a large kiss on his cheek before he'd a chance to defend himself. Lee would always wrench himself free, his cheeks and ears burning as he bent his head in shame, whilst his peers exploded into shrieks of laughter.
Today, however, as his mother let go of him, Lee wasn't embarrassed, just pleased to see her. She seemed to recognise this, and appreciate it, because something in her dark eyes seemed to twinkle as she sat down beside him; for once, perfectly silent.
His father followed behind her, and stopped, at Lee's right-hand side, smiling at his son. Only about an inch or so taller than Lee himself, the two found themselves eye to eye. Then, something strange happened, that Lee had never really had the experience of before.
Mr Norris held out his hand for Lee to shake.
Mr Norris wasn't a tall man, nor in the least bit intimidating; much in contrast to Maddie's own dad. Lee had inherited his father's build, and main features, but his dark, wavy hair and his nose came from his mother. Mr Norris was slightly solider than Lee; and slightly broader in the chest and shoulders. And when Lee shook his hand, he could feel the hard callousses and sores that came from being such a handyman.
Lee's father and uncle were a perfect match. Older brother and younger brother; both worked together in a seamlessly to create and build. Lee's uncle was a thinker; and whatever he thought about, he wrote about, and drew. Then, Lee's father took these plans, and made them a reality. Like Lee, Lee's father thrived on working through the logical processes of things- he enjoyed the challenge of working out how to fit everything together, and had basically become the neighbourhood handyman. And he was a good-humoured man; well-liked and respected. And as kids, Bethany and Lee always knew that their dad was an old softie at heart. He never liked to discipline them; he'd just give them a warning, ruffle their hair and let them off the hook.
Lee let go first, sitting down and gesturing for his father to do the same. His mother sat, watching her husband a little agitatedly, as he slowly sank into his seat.
The second he'd sat down, Mrs Norris leaned forward greedily across the table.
"Well, Lee, what's she like?"
There was a unified groan from Lee and his father, and both slumped forward slightly; because both had been expecting it.
Mrs Norris wasn't particularly amused. "Lee, come on, you can't keep me in suspense. I've been dying, Lee, just dying to know more. So, is she French? Is she blonde? Blue-eyed?"
"Mum, I-"
"Vicky, you are going to meet this girl in roughly 5 minutes or less. Don't you think this can wait?" Lee's father said tiredly.
She shot him a filthy look. "John, I have every right to know-"
"- what your future daughter-in-law is like, yes, yes, and you will, just not yet."
Lee suppressed a smile as his mother's colour rose a little. His father, apparently unaware of this, turned conversationally to Lee.
"So, how's school?"
"Oh, fine," Lee smiled vaguely. "You know. School-like."
"School's always school-like," his father laughed. "What's it actually like?"
"The work's alright," Lee relented. "But the real exams don't start until my final year. For now, it's just coursework."
"And Spy training?"
"Yeah, lots of that."
"Glad to hear it- really, I am," his father nodded solemnly, his eyes darkening. "Your mother and I... well, after you lost your memory... I'm not going to lie to you, Lee. It was hell."
Lee felt his throat close slightly, unaccustomed to the slight edge to his father's voice. There was a tense pause, lasting for just a few seconds, the suddenly, his father shook his head, and the black clouds disappeared.
"It's not so wet here as in Ireland, is it?"
"More snowy," Lee breathed, his chest relaxing. "It's not so damp; but it is just as cold. To be honest, there isn't really too much of a difference-"
"Oh, look, John! They have pineapple creams!"
"That's nice, but do they have coffee?"
"Of course they have coffee. Everywhere has coffee."
"Black coffee?"
"Yes."
"Excellent. I'll have that."
"John!"
"Yes, Vicky? Is there a special on the scones?"
She looked a little deflated for a second, then shook herself, her eyes narrowing. "You're teasing me."
A grin flashed across his face. "I might be."
"Feckin'..."
"You can tell this one's Irish," Lee's father laughed, jerking his thumb at Vicky.
She pursed her lips, and closed her eyes; her code for, 'I'm not really mad at you, but I don't want to laugh, so I'm going to pretend to be mad at you anyway'.
"Go on, Vic," Mr Norris appeared to be enjoying himself now. "Is there a special or not?"
"What would you like, Lee?" Her eyes opened, and she focused on her son instead. "Coffee? Tea? Oh, look, those little German biscuits..."
"I'll just have a coffee, thanks," Lee smiled.
"And what about Madeleine? What will she have?"
"Coffee, definitely."
His mother paused, her head now bent over the menu, but Lee could tell she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Really? Doesn't she like anything else?"
"No, she always takes coffee. She thinks tea tastes like cat p- I mean," Lee caught himself just in time. "She thinks tea's a little flavourless."
"Tea's really more of a British thing anyway, isn't it?"
"Vicky."
"What?" she jumped, looking up with an innocent smile at John. "It is, isn't it?"
He rolled his eyes. "Wait, Vicky. You have to wait."
"You ready to order?" A waitress had appeared at their table; a pretty girl, with a dimple in her cheek. She smiled at them expectantly, and Lee nodded, eager to move on the conversation.
"Two black coffees, one cappucinno and one cup of the strongest coffee you've got," Lee smiled.
"Yep, got it," the girl said, jotting it down quickly, and walking back across the shop, weaving in and out of the little tables as she went. Vicky watched her thoughtfully, her smile fading, before she looked back at Lee.
"D'you think she's a pretty girl, Lee?"
Lee jumped. "Er, I... em, I don't know."
"Of course you do," his mother smiled. "She's lovely. She's got such nice eyes, doesn't she? Very dark, very pretty..." she trailed off, pushing the menu away from her, and casually leaned back in her seat. "What colour are Madeleine's eyes, Lee?"
"Vicky!"
"Oh for goodness' sake, John, I'm only human!" she cried miserably.
"Five minutes, can't you just wait five- ?"
"You don't have to wait," Lee interrupted suddenly, standing up to wave. "She's here."
