49 Crap Dates And 1 Damn Well Good One- Chapter 4
Chapter 4- Nutella Heals Wounds As Well As Friendships
Here is chapter 3- 'The Idiot Beneath The Beauty'
Thanks to those of you who have read and commented on my previous chapters and here’s this one. Enjoy!
‘Gwen’, called Morgana annoyingly typing on her laptop depressed that Gwen had finally put the controls on her laptop as Gwen was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee for herself.
‘Yep?’, Gwen replied from the kitchen, leant against the worktop whilst stirring her coffee.
‘You do realise that you’re not a parent and you’re not one of my parents so what’s the point of this blasted parental control system, I can’t even go on the Google home-page! My life is ruined!’, Morgana ranted dramatically and for more of the dramatic effect she pulled the puss in boots from shrek face which usually worked on Gwen with the big googoo eyes and everything but not this time as Gwen was determined not to give in due to the risk of Morgana’s devious schemes. So she stayed stony- faced not bearing to look Morgana in the eye unless she would be trapped in her ‘Gwen’s worst top dates’ plans forever and that was not a place where she wished to be.
‘Yes but you’ve admitted yourself that you have an inner child and I’ll treat you like a child if you keep releasing..’, she paused and shuddered daring to say the name ‘Mordred’ Urgh, that kid powered by nutella gave her chills.
‘But why Gwen did you have to stop the nutella rations?’, Morgana moaned thinking surely her life was over. For her it was like a living hell, no actually it was worse than hell. At least in hell it would be warm. Now it was the middle of winter, the radiators had combust so instead they used the TV and laptop for warmth. Only problem was it didn’t half give them an expensive electricity bill.
‘Because that gunky stuff..’, Gwen started making her point only to be interrupted by Morgana.
‘Don’t dare call my pretty, gunky stuff!’, interrupted Morgana leaping up from the sofa offended. She really needed to stop using personification all the time, Gwen was actually thinking about sending her to the doctor to see if she had a mental illness but then again the doctor would probably be too terrified of Morgana to give her a check up so Gwen just left that thought in the back of her mind ready for a rainy day.
‘Fine, that ... spread’
‘Better’
‘That spread fuels your insanity and don’t say you can prove your point because you can’t’, warned Gwen trying to close the argument.
‘It’s not really insanity...’, Morgana said calmly defending herself only to be interrupted by Gwen just the way she had interrupted her earlier in the conversation.
‘Oh really?’, Gwen cockily said sarcastically ‘What would you call it then Morgie?’, Gwen patronised raising her eyebrows as far as she could get then on her forehead so it looked as if she was about to rip them off.
Morgana thought hard and long then came to a conclusion ‘Creativeness’
Just when Gwen thought the day couldn’t get any worse the doorbell rang. Damn she had totally forgotten. ‘Wednesday 12-3pm, Lesson 1. Clothes’, he had said. Three whole hours with this prat of a guy. It was a lesson in clothes and she was still in her pyjamas after a lie in. This was not going to look good. She was really beginning to hate Wednesdays.
The doorbell rang again while she panicked and spilt the boiling hot coffee all over herself, staining her pyjamas in a horrendous colour, burning her skin. ‘Arghh’, she screamed in frustration. Limping over in her boiling wet clothes towards Morgana she pleaded ‘Stall him!’ to which Morgana stayed sitting on the sofa eyes glued to the TV... again while the doorbell rang as she innocently replied ‘Why should I?’
‘I’ll lift the nutella ban?’, Gwen bargained panicking.
‘No deal’
‘Fine I’ll let you go on youtube?’
‘Add the nutella to that and you’ve got a deal’, said Morgana putting her hand out to shake like a true business woman. If Morgana really tried she probably could get a really good job instead of surviving from Gwen’s wages from her work as a waitress.
‘Fine’, Gwen agreed shaking her hand rapidly and running upstairs to wash her burnt skin in cold water before it peeled off and to get changed. After all this time of hard work and effort to put parental controls on Morgana’s laptop and a ban on nutella in the house it was gone within a split second. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.
Morgana ran to the door quickly and opened it just before Arthur turned to walk away. ‘I’ve been standing out here for nearly ten minutes now! Are you deaf?!’, Arthur annoyingly shouted letting himself in...again.
‘Well come in your royal pratness’, Morgana muttered to herself before shutting the door and following Arthur into the living room before collapsing on the sofa hugging her laptop happy she had got her interneting rights back.
‘So where’s Guinevere?’, Arthur asked curiously looking around.
‘Upstairs’, Morgana said emotionless like a zombie as she surfed the net but then she realised what she had said, eyes widening looking rather like a bush baby she leapt from the sofa like a panther ready to pounce on her prey but it was too late and he had already climbed up the stairs so she thought it would be better to stay in the safety and comfort of the living room waiting for the scream to come ‘3’, she sighed counting down ‘2’, she could hear the door creaking open now and ‘1’. Gwen screamed her head off as Morgana winced instantly plugging her head-phones in and instead swaying along to the jolly song Pack Up by Eliza Doolittle as she sang
‘Pack up your troubles,
In your old kit bag,
And bury it beneath the sea,
I don’t care what the people may say,
What the people may say about me,
Pack up your troubles,
Get your old grin back,
Don’t worry about the cavalry,
I don’t care what the whisperers say,
Coz they whisper too loud for me,
Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet.........’
Xxx
Arthur clambered up the stairs to go and find Gwen so they could get started on Lesson 1. Clothing. He looked through the first door on the left, no Gwen. The first door on the right, no Gwen. The second door on the left, the second door on the right, all no Gwen except the last door, the one at the end in the middle. She had to be there and she was....... just not in the way she expected him to be.
He turned the door handle knowing that she would be in there. Unfortunately Gwen’s room hadn’t got a lock for private times.
‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa’, screamed a baffled, half-dressed Gwen pulling anything in her grasp to cover herself up from any unwanted eyes and she definitely didn’t want his eyes on her while Arthur just stood there frozen, as stiff as a statue just staring at her his cheeks beginning to blossom red as he stuttered ‘I..I...I should....’
‘Get out my room!’, Gwen growled causing him to run out of the room as quick as possible to sit waiting on the stairs contemplating about the previous event. During his time of thought and process, he heard a cry of pain coming from upstairs so he went to investigate although this time he was much more careful. The yelp was coming from the bathroom as running water drowned the sorrows. This time he knocked on the door before coming in only to be confronted by a tear-full Gwen running her burnt arms under the cold water.
‘Oh God, what happened?’, he asked worriedly taking grasp of her burnt hands and putting them under the cold water even more while he went to get something from his pocket.
‘I dropped my coffee’, Gwen sobbed ‘and it hurts ever so badly under the cold water’
‘I know a trick to make them better’, he said ‘wait here and keep running them under the cold water’, he ordered as he turned to open the bathroom door before Gwen laughed softly still feeling the pain ‘You make it sound as if you’re a magician’
‘Of course I am. Call me Arthuro the ummm.... great!’, Arthur smiled before he turned to go downstairs to get his special medicine.
‘I’ve always liked magicians’, Gwen sighed to herself smiling never forgetting the memories of her father. ‘Tom the terrific’ he used to be called performing at children’s parties although most of them nicknamed him ‘Tom the terrible’. And Gwen had to admit they did have a point but to her he was the best magician in the world. She thought no-one could take that away from her and yet they did.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened with Mr. Pendragon holding a jar of nutella.
‘Nutella?’, Gwen questioned confused how nutella would help her.
‘Yep. It might sound a little weird but really it helps. You’ve just gotta trust me’, he said eyebrows raised ready for her reply which was a meek nod.
As he rubbed it onto her burnt arms he joked ‘This was pretty hard getting off your friend. She loves the stuff. It was like a battle but I won as she couldn’t really be bothered to get off the sofa to retrieve it from me’
Gwen laughed ‘You may have won the battle but you haven’t won the war. Watch out she’ll get her revenge you wait and see’
‘Then I’ll be ready with my secret weapon’, Arthur answered going along with the story.
‘And what will that be’, asked Gwen curious to what could defeat Morgana. She could use this to her advantage in the future.
‘Jam!’, Arthur movie-toned before doing the dramatic Eastenders theme-tune. ‘Everyone knows that jam and nutella don’t mix’
‘This stuff is actually working. How did you know about it?’, said Gwen inspecting her now nutella smothered arms.
‘I was seven, my dad was on a business trip so I was left alone for a week. For the first three days I had been making cheese sandwiches for dinner but on the fourth day I fancied something different which was baked beans on toast. I’d never made it before but I’d seen my maid cook it several times so I thought I might as well give it a try. But then boiling beans spilled all down my arm and I found the nutella thinking it was some oil to help skin so I smothered some on but it only helped with the pain. Now I’m scarred for life’, and then he showed her his scar, the red patch that rippled on his skin. Gwen was so immersed that she stroke the scar soothing him before noticing what she was doing and quickly pulling her hand away. He felt so cold without her. Arthur told the story so seriously that Gwen could almost feel his pain... or maybe that was the coffee burns kicking in.
‘I’m sorry’, was what Gwen could only say. She couldn’t really voice her thoughts about why he was left alone at seven years old or why his father had to leave him or why he had a maid so she just left it at that. He just shrugged unwilling to carry the subject further on.
‘About the other day can we start fresh? I was rude and precocious and I’m sorry. Arthur’, he guiltily said then put his hand out for her to shake.
‘Guinevere’, she smiled and took his hand as he smiled back at her. Maybe nutella was good for something.
Thanks for reading and comments are loved.
Here is chapter 5- 'THE GRANNY BRA!'