Chapter Text
Lix was sitting at her desk and stared at the invitation like she had done so often in those past few days.
Our little dream has come true.
We would be delighted to greet all our friends and family for our housewarming party.
Meet us for a relaxed weekend 5th to 7th September.
Overnight stay upon request (limited to 8 families). Evening attire required.
Cecilia
It was followed by the address and driving instructions. Somewhere in Scotland. So far, she hadn’t bothered looking it up. She was sure that their ‘little dream’ was no less than a multi-bedroom castle that no honest work could ever pay.
There was a soft knocking at the doorframe.
Randall.
He had this uncanny ability to turn up whenever she least wanted to see him.
She sighed.
“What do you want?”
Randall sneaked inside her office and as always, he managed to do so without making any noise.
Like a ghost.
A ghost from her past.
Ever since that day and that night they were hovering around each other, avoiding talking about what happened. And still, both stayed at The Hour. Both cared far too much about their work, and about what they had built together. Their team was their family and for that, they both stayed although it would probably have been better if one of them left. And if only to spare each other the hurt of looking into each other’s eyes and being reminded of what they had lost and once had been for each other.
“You don’t seem like yourself, lately.”
Randall finally said, very hushed and low, while taking up her coat which she had discarded carelessly on her armchair. He was taking a hanger, putting it onto it, placing the hanger on a hook of the hat stand, then rectified it until he was satisfied.
“Do I, though?”
Lix took a cigarette and lit it. If he wouldn’t bother to elaborate, she for sure wouldn’t.
“It is none of my business, of course.”
Randall continued, straightening the lapels of that coat for now the third time and she felt tempted to shout at him to cut it off. But she remained silent.
Silent was good.
The less they spoke, the less likely they would say something they would regret.
Their silence was now filling the office.
It became nearly suffocating.
It was a silent battle of who would first give up, who would first break the silence and therefore, lose.
But it was him who had come into her office, so it was his turn to speak.
Lix leaned back in her chair, following the smoke from her cigarette with her eyes. And if only to avoid looking what he was rectifying or straightening out now.
“It isn’t like you. Letting Freddie snatch that story from you.”
Lix leaned forward, a bit surprised both because Randall gave up so easily and because it was that what had given her away. She hadn’t thought too much about it.
“Well, he was right. It is about immigration. Therefore, it is as much domestic as it is foreign affairs, more leaning into domestic so it is okay he covers it.”
“Sounds logical, but usually you would have put up a big fight. And if only to keep him on his toes, honing his intellectual and rhetorical skills. Which are brilliant, already. Sometimes I am under the impression you are not fighting for the sake of the story; you are fighting because you love fighting with him.”
Randall had this maddening capability to make her feel naked and vulnerable, as if she couldn’t hide anything from him. Indeed, arguing with Freddie had nearly an erotic component. Safe for that one night, they never slept with each other again, that was now Bel’s realm. But still, opposing him, testing his abilities to react to whatever argument she brought up, enjoying how he was able to parry, measuring both their sharp minds, it felt intimate, like dancing, sometimes nearly orgiastic, no matter who finally won the argument.
“Randall, is this conversation going anywhere or do you just search for reasons for tidying up my office?”
Randall’s hand kept hovering over her stapler which he had been about to place parallel to the edge of her desk for creating a pattern with her pens only he understood. He let his hand sink to his side again as if she had caught him doing something ill-mannered. He looked at her, fingers fidgeting.
“I… just wanted to ask… if you need anything? If I can… help you? Somehow? If there is anything…” he started shifting the stapler around, again. “…I can do? To help you?”
He ended. If he had gotten down on his knees and asked Lix to marry him, she couldn’t have been more surprised. Help her? He wanted to help her? Was she so bad in hiding into which deep, dark hole Cecilia’s invitation had thrown her? Did she look as desperate on the outside as she felt inside?
And, much to her own surprise, as if her hands had different ideas than her mind, she pointed to the card with the golden letters which lay in front of her.
“May I?”
Randall’s hand now hovered over it and although she wanted to shake her head, something made her nod.
“I… think I know the place.” Randall said after reading it. “Not really a castle, more a manor. But impressive. Vast garden, nearly a park, beautifully situated, although it seemed rather ragged last time I saw it. It seems nice to have an invite to it. Who is Cecilia?”
“My sister. Well, half-sister.”
Randall’s eyebrows shot upwards, but he didn’t say anything.
“I might have avoided mentioning her. Or the rest of the family, for that matter.”
Lix stubbed out her cigarette. She didn’t really want to talk about them. She even loathed thinking of them as ‘family’.
“It is a bit odd that she didn’t sign it but got her name printed as well.”
“Yeah, that’s Cecilia. It is all about the impression, she doesn’t really care about the ones she invites with this. She wants me to come so she can show off how she made it, how far she came. I’m rather sure she has only married Robert because of his money. And Robert has inherited a shitload of money. Excuse my French.”
Why did she even bother telling Randall? It was none of his business. She lit another cigarette.
“And you don’t want to go. But as far as I recall you never had a problem with bowing out of such… commitments.”
The word fell heavy into the room, reminding them both of a broken promise in their common past.
“No, we both never had a problem with that, had we?” She chuckled a bitter chuckle. “But this is different. Maybe because it is Cecilia. If I stay away, I leave the narration of my life to her. If I go, at least I can stand up for myself and defend myself.”
“What did you do wrong that would need defending?”
“Oh, Randall, seriously?” She snorted. “I am the black sheep of the family. I have achieved nothing. I didn’t marry rich. Worse, I didn’t marry at all. No kids, on top of that. Or grandkids, for that matter, while Tom and Lisbeth already have children of their own. I failed in every way possible.”
“You are the Head of Foreign Desk at one of the most highly acclaimed news programs around the world, that sure has to count for something?”
“Oh, Randall. Sometimes you are really naïve. That’s even worse than if I was working as a hairdresser or whatever menial job. That I have to work for my money in the first place is bad enough already. But then, I am taking away a man’s job. It only adds to the vile things she spreads about me.”
“What vile things?”
“Doesn’t matter, Randall. I have lived with it all my life. I never was all well-behaved as I should have been. I guess I brought this upon myself. But…”
She sighed and looked at Randall who had stopped arranging things and was now fully focused on her. His expression was unreadable, but somehow, the way he looked at her, it cracked something inside of her and she felt the sudden urge to tell him the truth.
“Perhaps it is because I am turning old and grey. Perhaps it is because it is that I am now too old for everything and I can’t even show up with a grown-up daughter to tell them ‘Look, I was able to do that. There is a daughter, although I abandoned her as a baby’. Somehow, this time around it feels so much harder than all the times before to face them all. To hear their cutting remarks. To have them make fun of me either behind my back or even to my face. How I am a bitch who sleeps with everybody but isn’t able to tie a man to her. How I am probably drawn to women but not women enough to admit to it. How I was always a tomboy and weird and probably should have been forced more to comply. And then, they usually seat me next to someone they think I should be married to, far removed male relatives who were either too dumb or cruel to ever find a wife. I always hated it, but for some reasons, this time I am outright terrified.”
Suddenly she realized what she had done. She really had told Randall, Randall of all men, that she was scared of visiting Cecilia and the rest of her family. What was she even thinking? It was none of his business.
“Perhaps I just don’t drink enough, lately!”
She took a glass and the bottle of whisky from her desk and was about to pour herself a generous amount when Randall’s hand shot forward, resting his hand on her hand.
“What if I accompany you?”