Teen Dreams Book 1Chapter 4
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Teen Dreams Book 1Chapter 27 free porn video
I stared at the stern of the boat. There, in gold lettering, in a very nice cursive script, were painted the words ‘Lady Calista’.
“Dad,” I whispered, “I can’t buy that.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“The name,” I said pointing.
He laughed.
“Well, if you like the boat and buy it, you can just change the name,” he said.
“I can?” I asked, “but what message would that send to Cal?”
“What message do you want to send to Cal, son?” he asked.
“I don’t really know,” I answered, “why does it have to be so complicated?”
“That’s life, son,” he told me, “and it won’t get any easier. Look, let’s have a look at this boat, then when we get home, we’ll go in my study and talk about it. How’s that sound?”
“All right dad,” I said, “it sounds good.”
We looked round the boat, it had two cabins, fore and aft, a galley, toilet and plenty of space to sit. I liked it.
“I’m interested,” I said at the end of the tour.
“But,” my dad interrupted, “we’d need to get a survey done first. I’ll arrange it and be in touch.”
“I can recommend a first class surveyor,” the man offered, he could do the survey this afternoon.”
“Thanks, but I have my own man,” Dad replied, “we’ll be in touch.”
Back at the shop, Dad took Paul Wandless’s card and promised to be in touch within a couple of days. Business concluded, we all walked back into Bowness town and arrived at the jetty just as the next boat back to Lakeside was pulling in. The evening sun was nice sailing back down the lake, and we all piled into the car just after six for the journey back home, where we arrived just after eight. Dad had bought Mum a slow cooker for her birthday, and she’d decided that today would be a good time to try it out. She’d put all the makings of an Irish stew into it before we left and left it on the kitchen counter cooking away.
Except that when we arrived home, she’d left it on the kitchen counter, not plugged in. When she noticed it she swore, then blushed, then face palmed herself.
“It’s all right,” she said, eventually, “I have some chicken breasts in the fridge, and some noodles, I’ll do us a stir fry.”
She then rounded up the three female members of the group to start that and Dad looked at me and jerked his head towards the study. I followed him in there and closed the door behind me.
“Well,” he said once we were seated facing each other across his desk.
“Well what?” I queried.
“What do you intend to do about Cal,” he said, softly, “no, what do you want to do about her?”
“I don’t know Dad,” I replied, “I can think of three possible scenarios. One I just cut her off completely and permanently. That would be difficult because of the closeness of our two families, and I’m not sure Mum would let me do that.”
“Don’t worry about your mother son,” he said, “go on.”
“The second one is that we stay friends but that’s as far as it goes, she’s free to see anyone she likes and so am I.”
“And the third?” he asked.
“That I just say all right she did what she did, she’s fifteen and was stupid, I’m fifteen and I probably do stupid things too. She’s learned her lesson, let’s just move on from there.”
“So where do you go from there?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “I won’t be around much for nearly three months, so option three is unlikely at the moment, option one is impractical in real terms, so I suppose we are left with option two. I’ve got Kathy, but to be honest I don’t think that will survive me being away.”
“Then the only advice I can give you son, is don’t make any decisions yet. You need to concentrate your thoughts on the TV drama you’re doing, all this other stuff is just sidetracking you,” he said, “but remember, your Mum and I went through something a lot like this, and we’ve survived.”
“You’re right Dad,” I sighed, “at fifteen I shouldn’t be obsessing over a girl, even if I do love her. We’re going to be friends, I won’t avoid her like I have recently. But I’m not going to be in her pocket either.”
“Good lad,” he said, “now, about Wednesday. Am I taking you over straight from school, or do you want to come home and eat first?”
“I think probably get straight off,” I answered, “Mum won’t be home until after five thirty, then there’s cooking and eating, then goodbyes, it could be midnight by the time we get there.”
“Whatever you think best. And you’re staying at the Midland?”
“Yes, the whole cast is, except those who live locally. I think they got some sort of bulk deal,” I told him.
“I seem to remember some member of the cast of coronation street lived there back in the sixties and seventies,” he said, “can’t remember who though.”
We were interrupted by Mum calling out that tea was ready, so we joined the rest and ate our stir-fried chicken and noodles.
Everyone declared the quickly prepared tea to be delicious, and since it had been a long day, Cal and Aunt Mary left straight afterwards, and Alison went off to bed. That left me and Andy to clear up and load the dishwasher.
“David,” he said, as he put the last of the dishes into the machine, “are we good?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know, about what happened last weekend,” he replied, “you know, me and Cal?”
“Yes,” I replied, “you meant well, although you were a bit clumsy about it. But when it comes to it, it was my reaction, rather than your action that caused it. I think perhaps you didn’t think it through properly.”
“I think perhaps, you may be right, I’m sorry little bro.”
“Forget it big bro. Water under the bridge. But, Andy,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Next time you have a big idea like that, try talking to me about it instead of trying it out, it might be less painful,” I said, “for both of us.”
I switched the machine on and we walked out of the kitchen together laughing.
“What’s got you two amused?” Mum asked as we walked into the living room.
“We were just talking,” Andy said.
“Yes,” I agreed “just talking.”
There was no need to tell the parents what we were talking about.
I said goodnight and went off upstairs, to play an hour or so of Final Fantasy and get my books ready for school the following morning.
From research my Dad had done, the ‘teaching’ offered by the studio would be fairly basic, so we’d arranged with the teachers that they’d give one of my friends the text book sections we were studying and what the homework was, Dad would pass that on to me when I came home at weekends, and I’d do it and bring it back the next time for marking.
As I sat down at my desk, my eyes strayed to the corner where my guitar stood on it stand. I’m sure I could hear it complain that I’d been abandoning it. I picked it off the stand and played a few chords, it was gloriously out of tune, no way to treat a Stratocaster. OK so it was a Squier Stratocaster, but it was still made by Fender. And I still had an AC30 amplifier to play it through, even if it was transistorised and a copy. I breathed in, then put the guitar back, looked at it again, picked it back up and spent a couple of minutes tuning it.
When I tried the chords again, it sounded much better, so, I plugged it into the amplifier, turned the amp on, plugged in my headphones and spent the next hour practising chords, runs and riffs, remembering the fun I used to get from playing, and vowing to do more of it in future. I made a mental note to take it to Manchester with me. Or maybe I’d buy an acoustic.
With that thought in mind I got myself ready for bed and was asleep as my head touched the pillow.
The next three days at school were hectic, sorting out with teachers my studies for the next ten weeks of school, fortunately because of my injuries I didn’t have to do PE or Games, so I had some free time to get things sorted out.
On Monday Dad kept his promise and arranged for a surveyor to go up and look at the boat, he’d be going on Thursday and we’d have his report early the following week.
Leaving school on Wednesday was the worst. I walked Kathy home and she was in tears, you’d think I was going away forever. I promised her I’d be back weekend after next and we’d do something really nice together, which calmed her down, and after a nice long sweet kiss or two, we said goodbye and I walked home to where my dad was waiting.
My bags were already in the hall, one suitcase and a bag of books. I’d decided to buy an acoustic guitar in Manchester, rather than take the Strat and amplifier. I just needed to bring my laptop down from upstairs and I was set.
We packed my stuff in the car boot, climbed in and set off for Manchester. Fortunately it’s only about forty miles away so took us less than an hour. We pulled up outside the door of the Midland Hotel, Dad killed the engine and we were immediately approached by a uniformed commissionaire.
“Good afternoon, sir, welcome to the Midland, can I get you someone to help with your bags?”
I looked at Dad, who nodded.
“Yes, please,” I replied, “two, in the boot.”
He went back inside and returned with a young man in uniform who opened the boot and took the bags out.
“Am I all right parked here for half an hour?” Dad asked.
“Yes, sir, the wardens are off duty at this time of day, you’ll be all right,” the commissionaire replied.
Dad and I followed the guy with our bags inside and up to the registration desk.
“Good evening, sir,” the receptionist, a pretty young woman in her early twenties, whose name badge declared her to be Siobhan, “how may I help you?”
“David J Barker, checking in,” I replied.
She consulted the computer monitor in front of her.
“Ah yes,” she said, “a junior suite, open ended booking, billable to Robbo Productions.”
Dad and I looked at each other.
“Robbo Productions?” he mouthed to me.
I just shrugged.
She passed a form across the counter to me, which I filled in and passed back. She punched some buttons on a machine and handed me a key card.
“Three four seven,” she said to the guardian of my luggage and he led us off towards the lifts.
The suite was just that, it consisted of a central sitting room, with two comfortable sofas, a desk and a small dining table, and two bedrooms, each with its own en-suite bathroom. The beds were huge, easily six foot wide.
“Well it looks like you’re going to be comfortable,” Dad said as I deposited my suitcase on the stand in the right hand bedroom.
“Yes,” I agreed, “but I wonder why the two bedrooms.”
“Maybe you’re going to be sharing with another actor,” he said.
“I can’t think who, “I answered, “all the other actors in the show are much older. Surely, they wouldn’t have me sharing with somebody in his thirties or forties.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” he replied, “stranger things have happened, but no doubt we shall see. Now shall we see about getting some dinner before I head back?”
“That sounds like a plan,” I said, “Since my stay is chargeable to the production, shall we try the hotel restaurant.”
Over an excellent dinner, we discussed Leeds United’s prospects in the league and Europe in the new season, hoping that they’d do well in both, which in fact they did, and my plans for the future.
After dinner, we said our goodbyes outside by the car, then I went back inside and up to my room. I unpacked, and put, my clothes away, put my toiletries in the bathroom, where I found a big fluffy white bathrobe and the biggest white towels I’d ever seen, then got out my laptop, placed it on the dressing table, plugged it in and connected to the hotel’s internet.
Once that was done, I picked up my bag of books, and started some school work. Science, single cell organisms, the amoeba, it was really fascinating stuff.
After an hour I’d had enough of Amoebae, or Amoebas, whatever they called themselves when they got together and closed the book, confident that I was now the world expert on single celled organisms. I’d just put the book away when I thought I heard voices from the sitting room. I stood up, walked to the door and opened it, just in time to see the opposite bedroom door close. It seemed that I had a room mate.
I walked quietly over to the door of the other bedroom and tapped lightly on it. After a few moments the door opened, and I was confronted by a woman who was about Mum’s age, perhaps a year or two older. I took an involuntary step backwards and let out a little ‘Oh’ of surprise.
“What are you doing in my daughter’s room, young man?” she asked, an imperious, haughty tone in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” I replied, “but actually, I’m in my room, I checked in earlier.”
“We’ll see about that, you may as well start packing your things,” she said, and marched back into the room, slamming the door in my face.
I just shrugged and took a seat on one of the sofas.
Five minutes later, she re-emerged from the bedroom and glared at me.
“I told you to pack young man,” she demanded.
“I’m sorry missis, but even my mother asks me to do things, not demands, I’m booked into this hotel for the duration of the shoot on a TV drama I’m in, until someone from either the hotel or the production walks in here and tells me to pack my things, I’m staying,” I replied, calmly, “so unless you wish to share, I suggest you gather your things and leave.”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” she spat.
I looked her straight in the eyes, unblinking.
“Also, vielleicht möchten Sie, dass ich mit Ihnen so spreche?” I said.
“What?” she asked, puzzled.
“He suggested that perhaps you’d prefer him to speak to you like that, Mummy,” a second voice said from the bedroom door, “it was in German.”
I looked across and saw a slim, attractive young girl around my age, four inches shorter than my five foot seven with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
“Are you David Barker?” the girl asked.
“Yes,” I confirmed, “who are you?”
“Charlie Hudson,” she replied, “Charlotte to my mother, I’m playing your sister.”
“Ah,” I exclaimed, “the penny’s dropped. The hotel received a bulk order for rooms for the cast and paired two boys called Charlie and David.”
“Not realising that Charlie, was, in fact Charlotte,” she continued.
The pair of us laughed, while her mother just glared at me.
“So what do we do about it?” I asked.
“Do we need to do anything?” she said.
Her mothers glare changed to a look that could kill.
“Charlotte, you are not staying in a hotel room with that,” she stooped and took a breath, “that boy.”
“Mum, I’m not in a hotel room,” Charlie replied, “it’s a suite. I have a separate bedroom with its own bathroom. And there is, in case you haven’t noticed, a lock on the inside of my door, so I’ll be well protected in case he tries anything. Just as there’s a lock on his door, so he’ll be protected from me.”
“HE doesn’t need protecting from YOU, it’s the other way round,” her mother retorted.
“Mummy,” Charlie objected, “what do you think he could possibly do?”
“I’m not even going to discuss that subject with you, and particularly not in front of him,” she snapped.
“In that case Mummy,” Charlie said, “it’s a long drive back to Surrey, if you set off now, you’ll be home before eleven o’clock.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone with this,” again she stopped, “this boy.”
“David,” Charlie said, turning to face me, “is it all right if I call you David?”
“Well, it is my name,” I replied, with a nod.
“David,” she continued, “are you a rapist?”
“Not that I know of,” I replied, “are you?”
“Absolutely not,” she replied, “so if we share this suite you’ll not try and force your attentions on me?”
“Besides, I have a girlfriend back home, and believe me, fidelity is very important to me,” I assured her.
Then I turned to the mother.
“Mrs. Hudson,” I began.
She interrupted me.
“It’s Ms. And my name is Bridges, not Hudson. Hudson was Charlotte’s no good philandering father.”
“Very well,” I conceded, “Ms. Bridges, I will make you a promise, and it’s the only promise I will make to you. I will not do anything with your daughter that she is not in complete agreement with. I will not attempt to seduce her.”
Was that a look of disappointment on Charlie’s face?
“Nor will I treat her with any form of disrespect. That’s how I was brought up. It’s who I am, it’s who I intend always to be. Now I suggest that you have two alternatives, either accept my word on that, or remove yourself and your daughter from my suite.”
“We will not move out, you will,” she insisted.
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