Who: Hugo and Dani Hatherley (and NPC Mariana) What: Meeting for the first time! And telling Dani about Islington. When: Sunday, August 20, 2017 Where: Heathrow Airport, the bank, the school uniform outfitter. The car. Rating: Low Warnings: None.
Dani’s flight was pretty nice, she had to admit. Carew’s (her biological dad’s) secretary had set things up for her (Carew was in Afghanistan, deployed), putting her on a flight in the day so that she wasn’t having to wake early. She figured it was probably best to arrive in London in the morning and get acquainted with everyone and everything and crash when she got there. Her plane was in the air at 4:25 pm and she was sitting cozy in first class. She was only in the air for an hour and thirteen minutes where it landed in Dallas/Fort Worth for an hour and forty-two minute layover. She did a little shopping at the little stores and grabbed a snack, actively ignoring anyone who looked as if they wanted to sit and talk with her. She wasn’t in the mood for people asking her story or sharing theirs. She just wanted to get on with life and most of all, meet her twin brother.
At 7:20pm she was in the air again for a nine hour and five minute flight to London. It was during this flight that she pulled out a file and laid it on a tray over her lap. She hadn’t been able to speak to her dad and she hadn’t felt brave enough to really speak to her twin yet, but she had asked the secretary a million questions about her ‘new’ family by email. The secretary had responded in kind by sending her a file with all answers she’d asked answered and any she hadn’t asked as well. It was a little odd, but efficient.
She flipped through the file over and over, mostly focusing on her twin and reading about him and memorizing what he looked like. Eventually she fell asleep and slept for a good leg of her journey. When she awoke, it was time for breakfast which was served fresh. Afterwards she was in the restroom changing her clothes after wiping down with body wipes and brushing her hair and adding a little bit of makeup. It would not do to show up looking like a mess. When she emerged from the restroom, the captain was alerting everyone to buckle their belts that they would be landing soon.
At 10:25am the plane was landing. In a few short minutes she would be meeting her new family.
Mariana, despite her many charms, drove like an eighty nine year old woman on her way to Sunday market. Though it was undoubtedly a safe and competent way to drive, it didn’t help calm Hugo’s nerves at all, given that they weren’t on their way to Sunday market. They were on their way to the airport to pick up his long lost twin sister.
Hugo wasn’t exactly given to watching dreadful soap operas, but from what he understood, this situation was ripped from the script of just such a television show. “Tell me again, what you know about her?” he asked.
“Qué?” Mariana replied distractedly.
“Lo siento. Dime otra vez, qué sabes sobre mi hermana nueva,” he attempted again. “Cómo se llama?”
“Se llama Daniella. Que hermosa nombre! Daniella. Creo que ella va a ser una chica muy hermosa, como su nombre. Por supuesto, ella es tu hermana, y tu eres un chico muy guapo.”
“Oh, Mariana,” Hugo scoffed, but he smiled. Mariana was always so effusive.
They pulled into the airport parking lot and Hugo fed the meter, then offered his arm to his nanny to walk her into the terminal as a gentleman should. He held the sign he had made in his other hand. It said, simply, “Daniella”.
It was time to meet his sister.
Dani didn’t know what to expect when she landed. She had her one carry on bag over her shoulder, everything else was in luggage which was a couple of bags. Each step she walked through the air bridge from the plane to the terminal caused anxiety. Her heart sped up and she was having to mentally tell herself to keep breathing.
When she stepped into the terminal area, she walked a few steps, hand brushing dark hair back as she scanned the crowd waiting to find friends and family who were deboarding. It was there that she saw first the sign with her name, then following the arms down that held it, she saw the boy that had been in the file. She stood there for a few seconds, staring at him, before someone jostled her and got her moving.
“I, um..” she looked to the woman standing with the boy and knew that wasn’t the step-mom, and then she was looking back at the boy. “Hugo?” She asked. “I’m Dani. Daniella, call me Dani,” she rambled out nervously.
“Dani,” Hugo said, testing out his sister’s name on his tongue. He hung back as Mariana swept into action, enfolding the girl into a tight hug (whether she wanted it or not). “Oye, Mariana,” he admonished. “Ella no puede respirar, dejala en paz!”
Finally Mariana let her go and he took his turn. He was no effusive Spaniard, though. He stuck out his hand. “Hugo Hatherley. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his strict upbringing coming to the forefront. And then he wondered, based on the handful of words she’d said (and sounded dreadfully American saying them), if by contrast he was sounding like a dreadful little prig.
Oh well. It couldn’t be helped.
“You mustn’t mind Mariana. She’s the one who takes care of me… well, us, I suppose,” he amended awkwardly. “She doesn’t speak a word of English, except I think the swears. She won’t admit she know those though. She’s a brilliant cook though, and she’s very kind and caring.”
Hugo honestly didn’t know what else to tell her, except to be ready to answer if she asked a question, especially about school. Now that, he was an expert on.
A shy, unsure smile sat on Dani’s lips as Hugo said the short version of her name and then in the next instant she was being swept up in a hug by the woman. She gasped out in surprise and awkwardly hugged the woman back, patting her on the back until she was finally let go.
She stared at Hugo’s hand when he stuck it out proper and giving his name, his accent making him sound stuck up, but she really hoped he wasn’t. How weird, she thought, considering they were brother and sister, but she took his hand in hers firmly; she didn’t do a lot of handshaking in America, but she remembered a class where they talked of shaking hands and everyone had to practice shaking firmly whether you were male or female. Oh, and meeting eyes of the person you shook hands with, and so she did that as well. “Dani Andrews,” she said and then frowned, her forehead creating wrinkles as she furrowed her brow downward. “Hatherley. Dani Hatherley,” it was the first time saying her name. “I guess it’s Hatherley now,” she said.
Looking at Mariana, she smiled and then directed a question to Hugo. “Has she been with you since you were a baby?” She asked. “Does she remember me?”
“She’s more of a mother to me than Mother ever was,” Hugo confirmed, impulsively bending down to press a kiss to Mariana’s cheek. It wasn’t dignified, he knew, but he did love this odd, scuttling little woman who had done the bulk of raising him. Mariana, for her part, beamed all over face and seized him, smothering his cheek in kisses until he was obliged to fend her off playfully.
“She hasn’t said much about you to me, just that you were coming. I can ask her though, in the fullness of time.” It wasn’t that he was trying to hold anything over Dani - the fact that he could communicate with Mariana and Dani couldn’t might have felt like he was trying to hold the question to ransom - it was more that if any more of a scene was to be made, he’d prefer it be made in private, away from prying eyes.
He, ever the gentleman, offered an arm to Mariana and the other arm to Dani, intending to escort them to baggage claim. “And Hatherley is a good name. I’m sure Andrews has been perfectly serviceable, but Hatherley will open doors for you. Being a Hatherley at Islington means something.”
Dani was amused by the cheek kissing and was instantly happy that all she’d gotten was a hug that nearly squeezed the breath from her. It was cute, though, and nice to know the woman adored Hugo. That, at least, gave her knowledge enough to know that he wasn’t a monster to people, or at least not to the help. What he said of Mariana being more of a mother to him than his own, she wondered if that was meant toward his birth mother -which would make sense- or towards the woman who he had thought was his mother, and if that were the case what type of person Candida was.
She was hugely disappointed when Hugo didn’t ask her question of Mariana. He spoke the language, she had heard him previously and though it barely registered that he was fluent in the language - she came from a place where a lot of people were fluent in both Spanish and English - she was at this point jealous that he could do something she couldn’t. At any other time, she may have made a scene to get him to ask her question, but her stomach was doing flips and flops and she felt shaky like a diabetic who needed a good dose of sugar or insulin. So, instead, she just gave him a look and then did the proper thing and link her arm with his to go to baggage claim.
“I have a few bags,” she said, looking around her. “I tried not to bring anything that I could live without.”
She seemed pleasant enough. But Hugo knew enough of first impressions to know that everyone tended to put their best foot forward during a first meeting.
“Mother… that is, Candida…” because they had another mother, didn't they? A mother Dani had grown up with, and likely was missing very much right now. “She wanted me to take you to get your uniform. I'm also supposed to take you to the bank, and have you put on the family account. We can skip that if you like. You can just borrow one of my credit cards for the time being. I thought after we've bought your uniform, I could show you some of my favorite places.”
It was a bit of a drive to Oxford after all. No harm in letting Dani see a bit of London before they whisked her away.
“Have you… have you any questions about our estate, or…?” Anything that would be easy to answer, he tried to communicate with his eyes. Nothing having to do with their incredibly messy family situation, because curious eyes had already landed on their little party more than once, and Hugo could just hear the echo of his father in this mind, intoning that “Hatherleys do not make scenes”.
“Right,” Dani nodded as they walked. “Uniforms. Doesn’t surprise me she wouldn’t be the one to take me,” she frowned. Her mom would have taken Hugo shopping had the roles been reversed. Their mom would have also met him at the airport, too and not leave it up to a nanny and a sibling. Her heart hurt and she had to quickly blink back tears as the emotions exploded in her chest. She wanted to go back home. Then she had to remind herself this was home.
“Whatever you think is best,” she glanced over at him. “This is your shot to show me all around my new home,” she said. If he wanted to take her to the bank, they might as well get it done. If he wanted to drop her on the side of the road, too, she’d deal. “I think my baggage should be on that one,” she pointed to a baggage carousel. “I have probably an eternity of questions,” she offered a smile. “I don’t know where to start. I want to know more about you, though. Did you ever feel like a part of you was missing or something like that and couldn’t understand why?” Because she had.
“I… I don't honestly know,” Hugo said, pondering the idea. “I suppose it's rather difficult to think of yourself as missing a bit, when you've grown up being a bit, a part of a whole. I've boarded since I was seven, you know, and I'm quite used to being just another cog in the works. I quite like it.”
He grabbed for the luggage Dani indicated, manfully (or so he hoped) wrestling it onto a luggage cart. It weighed a tonne, an American tonne no doubt, but he didn't let it show, except for a sedate little “oof” at the weight of the largest one.
“I'm fifteen, almost sixteen, and I'm going into the Fifth. I expect you will be too.”
“Oh.” Dani said. Maybe she’d been the only one to feel as if there was a piece of her missing. She didn’t say anything else about it, just nodded her head and started to help load her bags to the luggage cart.
“The fifth?” She asked, stopping to move hair from her face before grabbing another bag. “I have two more,” she mentioned. “I don’t understand what the fifth means.”
“The Fifth… form,” Hugo clarified. “My year at school. Your year at school, if I'm not mistaken.”
The bags gathered, Mariana took point and began pushing the cart toward the car. “Tienes hambre?” She asked Dani kindly, knowing the girl wouldn't understand, but also knowing that Hugo would translate - which he obligingly did.
“She wants to know if you're hungry,” he supplied.
“Oh, you can’t just say the grade it actually is?” Dani asked with a teasing laugh. “But, if it’s the sophomore or tenth grade, then yes, I guess I’m Fifth form,” she said. “And we are the same age so…” she shot him a smile and then grabbed the last bag and put it on the luggage cart.
When Mariana spoke, she rose an eyebrow and looked at Hugo. “Oh, yes,” she nodded. “I ate early, on the plane, but I didn’t eat a lot,” she explained. “Nerves.” She the luggage cart and turned it toward the exits. “Lead the way,” she said. “Your dads secretary sent me a file on everyone,” she said as they started to move. “It was very...weird,” she laughed.
“Anyway, tell me about this school I’m going to be tossed into,” she said. “Why do you go to a boarding school and not just some regular school? Why did Candida not meet me? Is your dad away a lot? And I really want to know if Mariana remembers me.”
“Grade?” It was Hugo’s time to be mystified. “I don’t know anything about grades. That’s a very American concept. We don’t go in for that sort of thing here.”
Hugo’s curiosity was piqued at the idea of this file she had been sent that was apparently about him. Still, her questions gave him something to actually talk about. “Islington School. Well, Hatherleys have been going to Islington for five generations - I’m the fifth generation. Well, we’re the fifth generation. And it’s just… what we do. There are a ton of opportunities, lots of things to do, and we don’t have to waste time traveling from home to school and back again, because everything’s just… there.”
He looked around at the offerings in terms of food, and wrinkled his nose. “We’ll stop somewhere for food. As for why Mother didn’t come to meet you, I think today is her mani-pedi day. Father’s in Afghanistan, as you know. He’s not usually deployed quite so far away, this is just a particularly long one. As for Mariana… let’s just wait until we get to the car. She has a tendency to get quite emotional and expressive when she speaks, and I think people have stared at us enough for one day.”
Dani laughed and gave a small shrug. “Your ‘forms’ are like grades,” she explained. “We start in Kinder at age five and then after that is first grade on up to twelfth grade. In high school, though, you call ninth grade freshmen, tenth is sophomore, eleventh is junior and twelfth is senior,” she finished explaining.
“But your parents,” she pointed out. “To me, boarding school just seems as a way of parents to get rid of their children,” she shrugged again. “My mom would never have wanted that,” she then said, her voice a little sad. The mention of the step-mom getting a mani-pedi instead of coming to meet the daughter of her husband ticked her off. She frowned and said a few choice words under her breath. “That’s...lovely,” she finally said. “Super stoked that I’m less than a mani-pedi,” she sighed and silently wished Candida got an infection from it. She understood wanting to talk in the car and just nodded. “To the car then,” she said as they stepped outside and took in a breath of London air. “Which car is yours?” She asked and waited to be led.
“That one,” Hugo pointed across the lost. “The BMW, the sort of dull silver one? That’s ours.” It was a family car, one of several, and it had been the one most suited to the day’s outing. “Just let me… I say!” He had spotted a porter, and given up this macho nonsense of hefting the luggage himself. He took a twenty pound note out of his wallet and handed it to the man. “It’s the silver BMW over there. Thanks ever so.”
The porter took the cart, and the keys, and went ahead of them to the car. By the time Hugo, Dani and Mariana reached the car, the thing was done. Hugo took the keys back, handing them off to Mariana, and wished the porter a nice day.
“To the bank, then?” he said. “No sense in you waiting. You can meet Phil, and sign the paperwork, and leave with your very own credit card.” Thank god for luggage people, Dani thought. She didn’t know what they were called, she’d never have to use one before, but she was glad there was one to help. She had let the guy take over pushing the luggage and she started to walk with Mariana and Hugo. She was about to answer Hugo about the bank when her cell started to ring. She pulled it from her back pocket and sighed to see that it was Jeremy.
“Just a moment,” she said and took the call.
“Hello Jeremy,” she answered. “Yes, I landed not long ago...no...I was meeting my brother…” she paused and gave Hugo and Mariana an apologetic look. “Jer, I told you I would call..and I would when I got settled...no...Jer...stop,” she turned her back on Hugo and took two steps away. “Dammit, Jer...stop!” She said briskly but trying to keep her tone down so no one would stare awkwardly at her. “I have to go. I’m getting in the car and we have things to do. I’ll call you later…” she paused. “I love you, too, Jer,” she sighed and hit the end call button.
“I’m sorry,” she turned back to the others. “I...I’m sorry,” she shook her head and went to the back door of the car. “The bank is fine, we can get everything done before we go to your house and I get settled.”
Hugo was far too British to comment. “Mariana, por favor. Recuerdas algo de Dani cuando era una bebé?” Mariana bit her lip, and began speaking, hesitantly. Hugo translated.
“We were… nine months old,” he said. It was the first time he was hearing any of this, so he was just as interested as Dani was. “You had a lot of hair. I was bald, apparently. I cried a lot. My…” He paused, asked a clarifying question, then flushed. “According to Mariana, I was a lot less tolerant of dirty nappies than you were. You, ahem, were more patient in waiting for a change. Me, I raised the roof.”
Well, that wasn’t something he’d ever needed to know about himself.
“She also says she liked your mother - our mother - a lot more than she likes Mother,” he said, realizing belatedly how convoluted that sentence was. He did wonder who the phone call had been from, but it didn’t seem as if Dani wanted to talk about it. Given that she’d known him for all of twenty minutes, that didn’t seem unreasonable.
In the back seat, Dani buckled up and turned to look out the window as she thought about the call. When Hugo started to talk in Spanish, she turned back to the front and listened. Nine months old. That was when the two had been separated. They had gotten to be together for nine whole months before their selfish parents had parted ways and took only one child each. How could they do that to them, she wondered. Why. She gave a laugh to hear about the nappies. “So, I liked to sit in my own filth, well I guess that explains why I don’t have a tendency to clean my room often,” she teased. Though her room was usually not very clean. “I’m glad she knew me, Mariana. Even if I don’t remember, of course, it’s nice,” she smiled. “I bet I was more loud when it came to food,” she then said. “I can get quite cranky when I haven’t had a proper meal.”
Since he didn’t ask about the phone call, Dani didn’t offer any information. Instead she just looked at the back of her brother’s head and smiled. Hugo was her brother and at least she was going to get a chance to know him.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” she said and started to dig in her purse. Grabbing a photo, she pulled it out and handed it to Hugo. “Mom. I think you look a bit like her,” she said softly.
Well that was a hell of a thing. Hugo took the photo, glanced at it quickly, then slid it into his own shoulder bag. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked. He was sure she had copies, and if not, well, she could have this one back when he’d made a copy. He wouldn’t harm it. He just… didn’t want to look too closely at the woman who had birthed him and then left him to be raised by a stranger. He didn’t want to draw comparisons between their faces.
He didn’t want to cry in front of this brand new sister.
The bank was in the heart of London, and Mariana opted to stay in the car for what promised to be a short errand. Hugo made as if to offer an arm, then impulsively took her hand as they walked in. He didn’t know if she was a hand-holder or not, but dash it all, she was his sister. Nothing untoward about it.
“Here to see Phil,” he said confidently as they strode up past the counter. He didn’t bother waiting in the line, where the ordinary customers waited to see a teller. He knew where Phil’s office was, and the staff at this bank knew him well enough that they just smiled and waved him on, though they looked curiously at Dani and at their linked hands.
“Phil,” he greeted cheerfully.
“Master Hatherley!” Phil returned the greeting. “And this must be… Miss Hatherley? Your mother called ahead. The paperwork is just here.”
“No, I don’t mind. I have more,” Dani assured him. The picture had been for him to have in any way. And she had millions of other pictures that she would share with him, too. She had made sure that every picture with her mother in it had come with her.
At the bank, she had climbed from the car and was surprised by Hugo when he took her hand. She looked over at him and then smiled and kept his hand in hers. It was a strange feeling, to be holding her brother’s hand, but it felt right, too. A connection of family and since her mother’s death she felt a little better than she had.
She followed him into the bank, her eyes taking in everything. She had expected to go to a line but he pulled her past the counter, telling them who they were here to see, and just kept walking.
Master Hatherley? She thought. The Brits were weird. “Hello,” she said and glanced at Hugo, still holding his hand. “What exactly am I signing?” She asked.
Phil told her that she was just signing paperwork to be put on the family’s account and so that she could get her own card. She understood that as she had to do that in the states, so she let go of her brother’s hand and signed where he told her to sign. Minutes later she had a card in hand, everything had been painless so far.
“So,” she looked from Phil to Hugo. “Do I get some sort of allowance or something?” She asked, not really knowing how much money the family had and that she didn’t have to worry about going negative.
Phil laughed, then realized Dani hadn’t been joking. “I apologize, Miss Hatherley, I thought you were being very droll on purpose. An allowance… no. You spend, with the card, and your father’s estate pays the bill. Unless you’re particularly given to buying aeroplanes or ponies on a regular basis, you should not need to worry overmuch about your spending.”
“I bought some new trainers the other week,” Hugo offered. “They were about three hundred pounds. No one blinked.”
When Phil laughed, Dani rose an eyebrow and then looked over to her brother once more. “I don’t even know what ‘droll’ is,” the word sounding funny in her accent. “But I was not being whatever that is,” she sighed. Then both eyebrows were going up as she was answered. When Hugo spoke about his shoes, she gasped and looked at him.
“I had money from my mom and dad,” she said. “But if I were to spend that much money on a pair of shoes, I would have been grounded for a month,” she said. “You’re serious?”
“Droll means amusing. Funny,” Hugo supplied. “And yes, I’m serious. What about you? You’re serious, you would have been punished for buying a pair of shoes?” The idea was ludicrous to him. “What did they expect, for you to buy shoes from the bloody pound store?”
Phil politely ignored the siblings first “bickering” session. But they were finished with what they had come to do, so Hugo shook his hand and the twins took their leave.
“Uniform,” he said. “Please don’t gasp and marvel at the prices. It is crass to discuss money. Suffice to say, we can afford it, and more besides.”
Dani looked at Hugo and shook her head. At least it meant amusing and not stupid. “Yes, I’m serious,” she said. “Mom and dad...Christopher,” she made a face as it pained her to not know what to call him now. “We had money, but not like this…” she moved her hand through the air. “They would have made me return them, ground me, and taken my card from me,” she explained. “I think the most I spent on shoes was a hundred and fifty bucks,” she shrugged.
When they took their leave, she thanked Phil and told him it had been nice to meet him. Then they were off and Hugo telling her about the uniform and how to act, or not to act. She grunted and then pulled him to a stop out of the way of people and looked at him. “I’m sorry if I am embarrassing to you,” she said, keeping her voice quiet. “This is your life, not mine and you have to give me time to adjust. But I’ll do my best not to embarrass you!” She huffed and then turned to walk away and out the door.
Well. He hadn't meant to offend her, of course he hadn't, but dash it all there were some things she would just have to learn!
“Do all Americans turn and huff off after the slightest rebuke, or are you just particularly fragile at the moment?” He asked. “I know you're still getting used to things. It's been an hour! My comment was meant as a pointer, a tip, not an attack.”
Dani stood on the sidewalk outside the bank and looked at her brother out of the corner of her eye. She frowned at his words, but it was mostly her frowning at herself. She’d done what she said she wouldn’t do, she let the stress of everything happening all at once get to her and she’d lashed out over nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to look at him. “I’m...fragile,” she frowned. “And American. I don’t have the best handle on my emotions on a good day, on a bad…” she gave a sigh. “I really am sorry, Hugo. I know you’re only trying to help and I’ll try to not be so...American,” she offered.
“A temper like that will land you in all sorts of issues at Islington,” he went on, but the bite was gone from his words. “Come on.”
He barely even needed the list that the school had sent for Dani. He knew what she would need, and even if he hadn't, the outfitter would have known. Hugo could have sworn that he saw a gleam of excitement in his eye when he heard he was kitting out an Islington student.
“Give her a couple of pairs of trousers as well as her skirts,” he instructed. To Dani, he grinned. “Gender is sort of an arbitrary concept in many respects at Islington. You wear what you feel like, so long as it's in the dress code. I've a skirt, myself. Lovely when the weather gets hot if you want the truth. We've no shorts, you see.”
He expected her to laugh at the idea that her brother would wear a skirt. He didn't care. At school, it wasn't exactly common, but it certainly wasn't a case before parliament every time a boy wore a skirt, or a girl wore trousers.
The purchases mounted up. Hugo selected Dani’s ties himself, pointing to those with the stripe of Livingston blue. “Do you know how to tie a tie?” he asked.
Hugo didn’t accept her apology, only told her her temper would get her in trouble. How many times had she heard that from her mother? She just nodded and then followed him to go shopping. Dani had no clue what it was she was supposed to get, but it seemed that her brother did and so she just followed him and did as he said. She refused to look at the prices on any items, telling herself it didn’t matter and that Hugo knew what he was doing.
“You wear a skirt?” She glanced over at him. “That’s, well…” she grinned. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess,” she chuckled. She wondered if he were gay, but didn’t ask. It didn’t matter if he was or not.
“Can’t we just get clip on ties?” She asked. “Because the answer to your questions is no,” she picked up a tie and looked at it. “I’ve never had to wear one. Ever. At my high school we wore whatever we wanted to a certain degree,” she explained. “We had a dress code, nothing provocative and whatnot, but uniforms were never a thing there.” Uniforms were for private schools. “What else do we need?”
“Sorry. Even at Sunningdale, we tied real ties. It’s not hard though, I can teach you.”
The idea of going to a school where there wasn’t a dress code was simultaneously intriguing and horrifying. They lived in a world where everyone had to think about what to wear every morning? And they could wear anything? He shuddered. It didn’t appeal to him at all.
“Yes, sometimes I wear a skirt. Usually during heatwaves, when the trousers really start to bother me. It’s just one of the nice things about Islington - you think it’s strict and prescriptive, but actually, there’s a lot of leeway, in a lot of ways.”
Dani’s uniform came to around £1,800, and Hugo handed over the family credit card without flinching. “And there we have it,” he said cheerfully. Dani had behaved impeccably throughout the fitting, if a little impatient. He doubted the outfitter had noticed though - it was only he, Hugo, who was primed to step in if she lost her temper again. Ludicrously, he felt like rewarding her for doing so well.
“Do you like horses?” he asked impulsively, as they piled back into the car.
Dani went through the motions of getting fitted and doing whatever needed to be done in order to be finished with it. It was the same as going shopping and trying on clothes in a dressing room, only more...posh. She thought that Hugo wearing a skirt was actually pretty awesome and she made a mental note to watch out for him at school when he did wear them to make sure no one bullied him. Even if the school was open as he said, she still wanted to make sure he was alright. Funny, she thought, that she already wanted to protect him.
When they were told the price of the clothing, she bit her bottom lip and watched as Hugo paid it as if it were nothing. It was very apparent that their father had a lot more money than their mother and she wondered if that had ever bothered her mother.
“Horses? Yes,” she answered Hugo when they were back in the car. “I had a couple back home,” she explained. “They are being put up for sale, but I did a lot of riding and did some rodeo,” she told him. “Barrels and Poles, that sort of thing. I wanted to try trick riding, but mom was very adamant about me not doing that,” she chuckled.
“We have horses!” Hugo said happily. “So you can ride them whenever you want. And there’s riding at Islington, so you can keep riding there.”
Mariana turned the car towards home. This time, Hugo had elected to sit in the back with his sister, the better to get to know her. “I can’t even begin to imagine how odd all of this is for you,” he said earnestly. “Different country, different family, different school… I do want to make things better for you, you know. I’m sorry that I was piggish before about the money. Now that we’re alone, I can make a few things clearer without being crass. Our family, the Hatherleys, are worth… approximately £120,000,000. At last count. Phil didn’t mention that having changed significantly.”
And having a net worth like that meant that £300 trainers really were a very minor thing. “That credit card… you can have whatever you want, Dani. Father pays the bills and barely looks twice. As long as you’re not being ridiculous, you’ll be left to your own judgment, but I think you need to adjust your judgment to include the fact that you’ll never want for anything.”
Hugo had never needed to budget a day in his life. He knew how to do it, but the skill was largely an unnecessary one. “And I can teach you Spanish. We both can,” he promised. “It’ll be better if you can talk to Mariana yourself, so you don’t get to feeling like I’m keeping things from you or controlling the flow of your conversation - which I would never, ever do, I promise. Apart from before, when I wanted to wait until we got to the car, in case she - or you - started to cry.”
He offered her a smile. “And I want you to know… I’m furious with Father and Mother for keeping you from me, but I’m not angry with you at all. You didn’t ask to be whisked away from me, and you didn’t ask to be sent back here like this. None of this upheaval is your fault, and I know that, and I feel that. So… if you’re worried things will be hard for you, well. They might be, but I promise you it won’t be because of me, and I’ll help you in any way that’s possible.”
“Really?” Dani asked about the horses and riding at Islington. “That would be awesome,” she said, a hand tucking hair behind an ear. “Giving up my horses was hard.” Not as hard as losing her mother and father...step father...but still difficult.
She gave a faint nod of her head as he went on to say he couldn’t even imagine how difficult all of this was for her. She was way out of her comfort zone here, a fish out of water really. She felt as if she were just flopping about and finding it difficult to breath, just following Hugo’s lead in everything because she didn’t have a clue. If it weren’t for him, she was sure to have been lost. When he told her how much the Hatherley’s were worth, her mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. “That’s like..what…” she closed her eyes and did the math in her head. “That’s a little over 155 million in US dollars,” she shook her head, unbelieving. “That’s...whoa,” she chuckled. She understood how money was ‘no big thing’ to him. That buying a pair of trainers for 300 pounds was no more than a mere scratch on the pocket book. “This is going to take a lot to get use to,” she sighed.
“I know the cuss words in Spanish,” she grinned. “I had friends back home who were fluent in Spanish and English, I picked up a few things but I can’t string a sentence together to save my life,” she admitted. “Teaching me would be nice. How is it, after all this time with you, Mariana hasn’t picked up English?”
She bit her bottom lip and listened as Hugo told her how he didn’t think it was her fault, that he wasn’t mad at her for what had happened to them. She sniffed and wiped at her eye when a tear fell loose. “Thank you, Hugo,” she reached for his hand. “That means a lot. And I don’t blame you either. What our parents did,” she frowned shook her head. “I’ll never understand it, and I can’t even be mad at mom because she’s not here anymore,” she sniffed again and looked away, afraid she might start bawling. “I don’t want you to hate me,” she glanced up at him. “I know I’m a nutty little American, but I’ll try not to embarrass you.”
“I’ll make allowances,” Hugo said seriously, but then he winked to show he was joking. British dry wit, he’d heard, could be hard for Americans to pick up on.
“Do you have any questions about the school itself?” he wondered. “I feel like I’ve been a boarder for so long that there’s a lot I take for granted, but at the same time I know that it’s going to be so foreign for you. If you want the truth, though, I’m dying to go back. I love school, I really do. There’s just so much to love about it.”
“You...are a nerd, aren’t you?” Dani teased him. “I’m joking. I’m pretty good at school, but I wouldn’t say I ever loved it.” She had turned to sit slightly sideways in her seat and presse her cheek against the cool leather as she looked at Hugo. “I don’t know about questions. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate it,” she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Do I get my own room? Do I share? Can I jazz up my uniform with color? What are the classes like? And, most importantly, what is the food like?”
“I never thought about it before. I suppose I am a bit of a nerd, if it comes to that.” The questions came rapid fire, and he did his best to field them in order.
“You probably won’t hate it. You might at first, but there’s so many good things, you might surprise yourself. You’re in the fifth, so you’ll get your own room. They’re tiny, but they’re only for sleeping anyway. We’re not supposed to sit about in them. There’s common rooms for socializing, and the library for studying. You can study in your room though. Only the third and fourth share, so you’re safe. No, you can’t jazz your uniform up with color. You can join clubs and societies though: lots of them have special ties or waistcoats or scarves or lanyards that break up the uniform. The classes are… well, I don’t know what they’re like where you’re from, but here they’re quite good, I think. They’re challenging but there’s plenty of help. The masters supervise prep, so if you’re struggling they’re right there to ask, and the class sizes are small so you get more individual attention. There are usually around twelve to fifteen students in any given class.”
He had to pause for breath, but then he launched into his favorite subject. The food. “Oh, the food,” he said wistfully. “They do say that school food is dreary and dismal, but the food at Islington is nothing like that. They employ a gourmet chef, and he and the dining hall team put out at least two meat choices and a vegetarian option every lunch and evening meal. The vegetarian option, I’m told, can be made vegan with very little fuss, if that’s something you’re into. I confess I’m rather a neanderthal in that respect. I feel a meal’s not a meal without some sort of meat.” He grinned at her. “Things like, Taco Tuesdays, and Nacho Thursdays; there’s fish and chips on a Friday - for the Catholic chaps, you know - shepherd’s pie and all sorts of just delicious, well cooked food. Not stodgy or gluggy at all. I ought to know. I’ve been eating it for the last eight years!”
Mariana drove steadily homewards, and Hugo began recognizing landmarks indicating that they were getting closer. “Breakfast, you can have fruit and yoghurt, or about eleven different types of cereal, or there’s porridge, or even a Full English - eggs, bacon, sausages, fried tomatoes, hash browns, the lot. We like our choices, you see. There ought to be something to satisfy the pickiest of eaters.”
Dani was pretty sure she’d hate it. She already hated the fact that she’d be wearing a uniform and she doubly hated it because she couldn’t add color to it unless she joined some club and got a scarf or some bullcrap like that. She liked her individuality and didn’t like being stifled. “I have a slew of things to look over and decide on what all I’m going to join,” she sighed. She had been into a lot of sports in her past and she hoped that she could at least make one team at Islington. “What classes and EC’s are you in?” She asked him.
She was impressed on the food choices at the school and smiled. “Thank goodness for good food,” she said. “I hated the school lunch back home and I always took my lunch,” she told him. “There was mashed meat monday, something fishy friday,” she laughed. “It was gross, we can leave it at that,” she grinned.
“I’m in the house choir and the school choir,” Hugo told her, “and I play guitar, piano, and violin. My music doesn’t leave a lot of time for other things, but I play Islington football when it’s in season - everyone does, it’s tradition - and I swim. I’m a bit useless at most ball sports if I’m honest. I can’t bat for toffee in cricket, and when I play football I usually end up face down in the mud because I never seem to be able to get my legs to go the way I need them to. Like I said, I play Islington football, because it’s tradition. Not because I’m any good. But in the water, well. I’m good in the water.”
Because I can part it, mould it, and breathe in it, he thought but didn’t say.
“Anyway, just… keep an open mind? I can remember this one chap who came at the beginning of last year, because his parents were going abroad and couldn’t take him with them. He’d made up his mind that he was going to hate it. I got the sense he’d been rather spoiled and made much of for most of his life. Anyway, he deliberately didn’t join anything because he was determined he was going to hate school, and it turned into a bit of a self fulfilling prophecy. He had no choice but to go to classes, but because he refused to join anything fun, his entire experience of boarding school life was classes and bed.”
He grimaced. “And, not to sound like a bully or anything, but we didn’t think much of him at all. It wasn’t because of anything about him, per se - he wasn’t picked on, or teased, or that sort of thing. It was just that he was so negative all the time, and so no one really wanted to be around him. He kept saying that his Mummy would be back to get him before long, so he needn’t join in anything or bother making friends. He was just… insufferable. So I’m not trying to tell you how to feel, I’m just saying… for your own sake, please try not to be that chap.”
“I play guitar,” Dani grinned, happy they had something on common. “And piano, though I’m more rusty on it than the guitar,” she explained. “Mom was always happy to let me try anything my heart desired, and so I’ve tried a lot of things,” she told him. “I’m not a big swimmer, I like going to the beach and the pool, but I’m not strong at it,” she shook her head. “I’m good at ball sports, unlike you. I played soccer and basketball, though I like soccer better. I use to dance and have had gymnastics and of course my rodeo things that I did with barrels and poles,” she shrugged.
“Don’t worry, Hugo,” she reached over and patted his knee. “I’m sure I’ll find something. I’m not going in with a determined hate like your friend,” she said. “I’m just not fond of uniforms,” she smiled. “It’s going to be an adjustment and it’s weird to be going from the states to here and then to a boarding school without even having met my actual dad. I’ll need time to adjust, but I promise not to be too insufferable, okay?” She missed her mom and dad...Christopher, and even though Hugo was there with her she felt alone. Her life was upside down and she was barely treading water.