Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1)

by Rebecca Paulinyi

  There were two gifts under the tree for Abby from Imogen: one remarkably similar to the gift she had received from Eve just the previous night, the other large and lumpy. She opened the other gift first, and screamed with delight as she saw what it was. A teddy, nearly the same size as Abby, was sat on the living room floor, with Abby’s name sewn delicately into the paws.

  “Like it?” she asked, with a grin.

  “Me love him!” She sat the bear against the sofa, leaning against him as she opened her second present. Whilst this one wasn’t as exciting from a four-year-old’s perspective, Imogen felt it was something she should have. A light pink book lay beneath the wrapping, and filled with photos: a scrapbook, that Imogen had actually started years previously, and had decided to finish as a gift for Abby for Christmas. It included photos of Abby as a baby with their mother, who Abby had no recollection of; a photo of Abby, Imogen, their mother and a few friends who had gathered at the hospital the day she was born; a couple of happier times at the care home; several from their new life with the Kingsleys, as well as so many more little pictures, scattered in between. Imogen knew it wasn’t the sort of gift she would truly appreciate until she was older, but she felt like Abby should have it. The little girl certainly didn’t look disappointed with the gift; she continued smiling, and after looking through it, put it carefully out of the way, showing far more maturity than would have been expected from a four-year-old.

  “Now, I want Sara and Imogen to open their presents from me at the same time.” Ella said excitedly, handing two similar looking, large, rectangular packages over to William, who gave one to Sara and one to Imogen.

  “Now, you’ve got one gift each from me…and you’ll see why. I just felt you should have…well, open them, and you’ll understand!” Imogen was a little puzzled, and not just by Ella’s confusing speech: if only one of the presents under the tree was from her, then the six or seven others…well, her new ‘family’ must have been as generous as Ella.

  Curiously, she gently pulled on the paper, which revealed a smooth, black box. Sara was opening hers just as slowly, clearly none the wiser as to what this gift was that had Ella so excited.

  “Come on, come on! Rip the paper!” Ella encouraged, with a wide grin. Glancing at one another, Sara and Imogen ripped at the paper, revealing two identical black cardboard boxes, with a lot of writing all over them, but only one word that stood out: laptop. Imogen’s eyes widened, and Sara’s mirrored her.

  “A laptop?”

  “You’ve got us laptops?” Both their voices were incredulous: it was such an expensive gift, and she’d bought one each for her niece and her adopted daughter.

  “You like them? I got the ones that the guy recommended…you know me and technology; he said that they were the best ones for my price range. They’re all ready to go, and we’ve got wireless set up. I thought that, since you’re both doing GCSEs, and when – if – you go on to do A-Levels, it’s probably best that you have a computer each. And not that slow old thing we’ve got down here. So…”

  Both girls grinned, almost simultaneously – Imogen in spite of her usual coolness towards the family. That seemed to be thawing quite a lot lately…

  “Wow. Thank you so much Aunt Ella! I can’t believe it…” Sara babbled on, and Imogen didn’t feel particularly guilty in cutting across her.

  “You shouldn’t have…but I’m really grateful. Thank-you.” She didn’t want to thaw towards these people, but it was hard when they were so…nice! Ella beamed, and her mood was infectious – the whole family couldn’t help but be happy. The adults decided to keep the rest of their presents for after lunch – by this time, it was reaching ten o’clock - the presents had taken up a lot of the time, considering how early they’d all been up – and Sara and Imogen decided to do the same with the rest of their gifts. They were both still quite overwhelmed by the laptops.

  ***

  Rupert arrived at midday, and, as promised, Imogen did actually like him. He was not a serious man – humour never seemed far away when he was around – and he made Imogen feel like she was as much a part of the family as everyone else in the room. Imogen was ambivalent about this: on one hand, being accepted was quite…nice. Being normal, and part of something again was not a bad feeling. On the other hand, she was part of the Kingsleys – was that what she wanted? She decided to think about that at a later date: it was Christmas, and she might as well enjoy herself. The meal was unarguably delicious – Ella was a good cook – and the good mood was infectious. Imogen found herself laughing along with the jokes, and joining in conversations without even consciously forcing herself to make an effort: today it came naturally. When she wasn’t partaking, she was listening to the exchanges around the table.

  “What have you been up to then? I haven’t seen you in a couple of months,” Sara inquired of Rupert, in between mouthfuls of turkey and stuffing.

  “Oh, you know. Working quite a lot of the time – they’ve got me filling in reports left right and centre. And spending time with Pheobe, too – did I tell you about my girlfriend? I guess I didn’t, I didn’t know her the last time I saw you.” The grin on his face was apparent to everyone sat at the table as he spoke of her.

  “No, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone – how long have you been dating her then?” Sara asked, nosily, with a grin.

  “Almost two months now. Enough about me – how did the exams go?” asked Rupert, after finishing the last of his lunch and helping himself to more potatoes.

  “You know, as well as exams ever go.” The conversation began to bore Imogen, and she moved her eavesdropping to Millie and William’s conversation: it was about their wedding. The entire meal was actually extremely reminiscent of her first lunch here in Kingsley Mansion; the different pockets of conversation, Imogen’s eavesdropping, and the topic of the wedding. Now, however, the wedding was a lot closer than it had been on that first September lunchtime; over two months closer, and planning was in full swing. The date was set for the fifteenth of January, and so the details were no longer about wedding planners: they were about centrepieces, starters and table settings.

  “No, we can’t sit Rosetta next to Lily: Rosetta drinks far too much, and Lily’s a teetotaller – it’ll just cause problems. How about if-” She noticed Imogen listening, and directed the conversation, surprisingly, towards her.

  “Imogen, will you be bringing that…Sam as your plus one? I’ll need to know for the seating arrangements…”

  “Zach,” she corrected, slightly cool for the first time that day, “and I guess so. I didn’t know I had a plus one.” If she were honest, she hadn’t even really considered the wedding, or the fact that she would, of course, be invited. “But yeah, if I have one, I’ll invite him.” Millie merely nodded, and turned back to William, as they argued the pros and cons of sitting different pairs of people with each other. Having thought about the wedding, the idea of having Zach to accompany her through the horror it would undoubtedly be made it seem a lot more appealing.

  “Shall we open some more presents before dessert?” Ella asked, noticing that everyone had finished.

  “Sounds like a good idea. That was delicious, Ella. I’m uncomfortably full, but it was the definitely the best Christmas dinner yet.” Rupert complimented, and Ella grinned, picking up plates as she stood up.

  “You say that every year, Rupert.”

  “Elle, it’s true every year!” They laughed, and William interjected;

  “Ella, leave the plates – we’ll do them later. You’ve been slaving away at that meal for hours; at least let us do the dishes.”

  Ella conceded, as the entire family relocated to the living room, where the opening of

  presents continued: a pleasant couple of hours where thank-yous and hugs filled the room, along with wrapping paper, ribbon and laughter.

  ***

  Clothes, CDs, DVDs, money – Imogen got some great gifts from the Kingsleys. Even Rupert gave her a card with a ten pound note in it –
something she had to admit was very generous, considering she’d only met him that morning. By five o’clock, there were three exhausted children practically falling asleep on the sofas – the product of a far too early morning – and a group of adults who were both tired and full. After sleepily watching another hour of Christmas television, with everyone curled up on a sofa, the day began to draw to a close, and Rupert decided it was time to go home.

  “Thanks for a great day, Ella.”

  Rupert and Ella got on extremely well: they always had done, when William and Amy were dating and throughout their marriage. Then, after her death had devastated them all, he’d been there to help with bringing up Sara. When William’s grief rendered him incapable of doing so, Ella continued, and Rupert’s help was never forgotten. His relationship with her was close to sisterly.

  “See you soon kid!”

  “Sooner than last time, I hope,” Sara responded. He’d noticed, more than ever this time he’d seen her, how much she was looking like her mother; acting like her mother. It brought happiness and sadness to him; he wanted to remember her, but at the same time, the memories hurt.

  “Great to meet you, Imogen, and you Abby!” he called over to the siblings curled up on the sofa. Everyone called out their goodbyes, too tired to move.

  “I’m gonna take Abby up – she’s not going to be awake much longer. Do you want me to take Dana up too?” Imogen offered, wanting to help, but also quite keen on getting out of the mountain of washing up that needed to be done.

  “Could you? That’d be great. I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long, really – they’ve been up a good twelve hours!”

  Half carrying, half dragging the two youngsters up the stairs, Imogen was surprised with how much she’d enjoyed herself throughout the day. The Kingsleys – including Sara – had barely irritated her at all!

  The teen realised she hadn’t checked her mobile the entire day and so, after putting Dana and then Abby to bed (both of whom fell asleep the second their heads hit their pillows) she flicked it open.

  Happy Christmas. See you tomorrow – if you survive a full day with them! Zach. x

  She grinned at the text, and replied quickly. Despite herself, she had enjoyed the day – but she was looking forward to seeing Zach, hopefully on the following day. Had she not been exhausted, she might’ve climbed out the window as she did so regularly, but tonight, she just couldn’t. A very early morning, and a very busy day, ensured that all she wanted to do – despite the early hour – was sleep; she felt no guilt at all in resting her head on her pillow – whilst the others were downstairs washing up – closing her eyes and falling asleep, fully clothed. After all, the rest of them – Ella and Daisy excluded – had had much more of a lie-in that morning than she had…

  Chapter Sixteen

  Imogen’s holiday routine from the October half-term – minus the revision – continued throughout the Christmas holidays. After Christmas and Boxing Day were over, there was New Year’s Eve to look forward to, and she planned on celebrating the arrival of 2008 with Zach, Eve and the rest of their friends. She had told Ella this, and had her permission – although she had omitted the fact that they planned to go to a bar for the evening. Still, there were some things Ella didn’t need to know.

  Getting ready for New Year involved Eve, Carrie, Violet and several drinks. She would be staying the night at the Monroes’, and their parents still hadn’t returned, so she didn’t need to worry about ending up drunk. She did, however, set up her little bed of her sleeping bag and pillows on the floor – as did Violet and Carrie – as they knew they wouldn’t feel like it when they got home, hopefully in the early hours of the morning if their plan worked out. They knew that bouncers were stricter, and ID asked for more often, on New Year’s Eve, but they were hopeful.

  Whilst the Monroes’ home had enough spare rooms and beds that they could all have had a room if they wanted, it just wasn’t the same: if they were gonna stay over, it was much nicer for them all to share a room, so they could chat, laugh and gossip until they fell asleep.

  The girls were all underage to be drinking, with Imogen being the youngest of them all; Eve and Carrie had already turned sixteen, and Violet was turning sixteen the following month. Imogen wouldn’t be sixteen until July. Out of the guys that were going, only Danny was actually eighteen, so perhaps their hopes were a little too high; nevertheless, they were going to try.

  The girls in little black dresses, the guys in shirts and trousers, they made an attractive group as they left Monroe Manor by moonlight. Zach wolf-whistled as Imogen walked down the stairs, causing eye-rolls and groans from the assembled group. Zach just laughed. Despite Eve’s complaints, it was lucky for her that her brother was preoccupied; after a few drinks each, the way she and Daryl kept looking, grinning and flirting with each other made it blatantly obvious something was going on.

  ***

  Two returned home but three hours later, only a half hour after the New Year had begun. It wasn’t because they hadn’t got in, or had been chucked out, or that they were that drunk. No, this couple had left for another reason…

  “What was wrong with you tonight?” screamed Imogen. Angry, confused and upset, she slammed the door behind her as she entered Monroe Manor. It wasn’t like she had to worry about disturbing anyone; the others, pretty drunk but happy, had stayed at the bar. “You were like a madman! Getting like that because some guy tried to chat me up – don’t you trust me? You think I’m gonna hop into bed with the first guy who flirts with me, even though I’ve already got a boyfriend? Because if that’s it, I don’t wanna know anymore.” The words were coming out of her mouth without her thinking – an automatic response, ruled by her anger, governed by her heart, not her head.

  “It’s pathetic. And this – us – it’s totally pointless if you have that little trust in me.” Her rant over, she grabbed her jacket and moved to the door, anger and upset battling it out inside her, deciding returning late to the Kingsleys’ would be better than staying the night here, as planned – but Zach got there first. He’d not spoken a word since they’d stormed into Monroe Manor; made no attempt to argue back, defend himself, or give a reason for the jealousy he’d displayed all evening. He’d kept quiet throughout her screaming, and only now did he move, blocking the doorway so that Imogen couldn’t leave just yet.

  “Move,” she ordered calmly, although she felt anything but calm. “MOVE!” she screamed when he didn’t respond, feeling the need to get out of this house, get back to her own. Fearing that if she didn’t, she’d end up crying in front of him.

  “No. Because you’re going to listen to me, Imogen!” he shouted back, looking almost as angry as he had done earlier, when a clearly drunk guy had tried to hit on her. “Have you even considered that maybe I reacted like that tonight because I like you – like you so bloody much that I don’t know what the fuck to do? That maybe it’s because I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone?” The words and the tone contrasted with each other – here he was, practically admitting he loved her, and yet he was shouting it at her.

  There was a reason behind it: he felt like he couldn’t express it any other way. These were emotions that he’d always thought to be weak, and here he was, letting them get the better of him.

  Zach Monroe didn’t let anything get the better of him.

  Imogen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, throw her arms around him or punch him, both of which would have been easily achievable from where she was stood. Wanting to admit she felt the same, whilst not wanting to look weak, or clingy, Imogen didn’t have time to formulate a coherent thought about her response before he was suddenly kissing her – roughly, passionately, and in as heated a way as he’d been screaming at her just moments ago, in the row that had melted into this.

  ***

  Thanks to the argument, Zach and Imogen had returned only tipsy, not as drunk as they had expected – or as the rest of them were when they got back. Had Zach stayed out with them, then Eva
ngeline certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to drink as much as she had – another thing she had Imogen to thank for that night.

  Still, Zach didn’t notice how drunk his little sister was when she got home, how late it was when they finally stumbled back, and how she was all over her secret boyfriend. This was due to the fact that he and Imogen were both asleep by one in the morning, curled up on the settee.

  Evangeline laughed in tones that were a little too loud to be used around sleeping people, as the alcohol had made her more unaware of her volume than usual.

  “Looks like those two made up then,” she smirked, one arm wrapped around a slightly-more-sober Daryl’s waist. The other guys, after seeing the girls were safely home, had left – probably to continue partying, despite it being nearly five in the morning – and Carrie and Violet were chattering away in the doorway, considering heading straight up to bed.