The Boy Movie Brahms Heelshire x reader FanFic

Part 35 - Melinda

It's a crisp January afternoon when the knock at the door comes.    You scowl.   The gates and  cameras are yet to be installed, and the old rusty gate at the bottom of the driveway has to be left open for the cleaners; but they've come and gone.   With a sigh, you pad in your bare feet to the door, then open it.   The blast of icy air makes you wince as you find yourself staring into a pair of very pale blue eyes set in a face so beautiful you forget to speak.

The girl on the steps is slim and blonde, around 20 years' old.   You watch as her eyes flicker over you.  When she speaks, her voice is pitched in a low, sexy drawl.  'Hi, you must be Y/N?"

At last you find your voice.   "I'm sorry...do I know you?"

"My name is Melinda.   Melinda Heelshire."

You raise both brows, then shake your head.  "Mr and Mrs Heelshire passed away last year and--"

"Yes.  I know.   May I come in?"

You hesitate.  Brahms is in his secret room pottering about.   You know he'll be listening though.  He always does when strangers come to the house.   Something about this woman makes your hackles rise.   Instinctively, you feel threatened.  She shares the Heelshire name, but what relation is she to Brahms?  Cousin?  Twice removed?

"My feet are going numb out here, Y/N!"

Reluctantly, you step aside and beckon her inside.   Melinda glances around the hallway.  "Wow, nothing's changed."

You usher her into the sitting room then close the door.   The younger woman stares around again and begins to unbutton her coat then remove her scarf and gloves.  She has an amazing figure; hour glass curves in a dark blue fitted dress. Standing like a statue by the fireplace, you watch her impassively.   She keeps up a constant chatter.

"Been a few years, mind.  I'd forgotten how much I loved this place.   Only visited a few times when  I was small.   Aunt Maggie was a bit of a stickler for tradition but Uncle Richard was a darling.  We kept in touch by letter.  My dad and Aunt Maggie didn't ever see eye to eye but I set up a correspondence and we shared photos and such like.    Emails just weren't an option for the dears.  You couldn't drag either of them into the twenty first century.   Tragic about Brahms, wasn't it?"

Your stony expression doesn't break her stride.   "But then you know, of course.  It must have been a terrible shock for you.  The doll, I mean.   Quite frankly, I'd have run a bloody mile if I wasn't family."

As she pauses for breath, you blurt, "Why are you here?"

"Just a visit.  I wanted to see the old place one  more time.  After I lost my dad - he passed a few years ago from the cancer - I've had a yen to get closer to my roots.   I'm terribly sentimental like that.   When I found out poor old Richard and Maggie had gone, I just had to come one last time."

"The Heelshire's never mentioned you," you say slowly.   

"Didn't they?  Oh, I know it's awfully cheeky of me, but I'm just about dying for a cuppa?  Do you mind?"

Her smile is so guileless, you feel you have no option but to comply.  "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea please.   And two sugars."

You walk stiffly from the room.  In the kitchen you long to slip behind the panels and go consult with Brahms but you don't want to leave this stranger alone to wander and nosy around.  You clatter the cups and saucers and wonder if you feel so rattled because she's so Goddamned beautiful!  You also don't want Brahms to see her, and this thought rattles you even more.   He's a man who's never spread his sexual wings or played the field because he's never had the chance to see other women other than the few potential nannies who'd skedaddled away.   You close your eyes, take a deep breath and try to reason with yourself.   Brahms loves you.   Wants you.  Needs you.  Am I  actually jealous?  you marvel.

You take her tea to the sitting room.  Melinda lounges in the easy chair her long legs  and perfect ankles elegantly crossed, her slender feet strapped into a pair of Manolo Blahniks.    When she smiles up at you, she dimples in each cheek, which makes her even more attractive.  She has symmetrical eyeliner and that waist must only be twenty four inches!   Melinda accepts the china cup and saucer with pristine manicured nails the colour of blood.    You sit down opposite her feeling like a great fat Botany teacher.  "How do you know about me?" you ask.

"Aunt Maggie, of course.   She told me you outshone all the others and were perfect for the job."

You nod and watch her sip her tea.   "How did you get here, Melinda?"

"I parked the Audi just outside.  Is that OK?"

"Where do you live?"

"London."

"You've driven all the way from London?"

"Yes.  And in this weather.  Bonkers, aren't I?"

You glance out the window at the leaden sky.   The forecast is heavy snow.   You have no intention of inviting this woman to stay as your guest.

"I guess you better get going soon, if you're going to get back to London before dark."

She nods then drains her cup, and you feel a little guilty.

"Well, thanks for letting me see the old place."

"I'm sorry, Melinda, I can't offer you to stay.  I have personal reasons, and a lot of stuff going on."

"Oh, I wouldn't impose, nor expect you to.   I was just...well, thanks again."

You both stand.   "May I use the loo before I go," she asks.

"Of course."

You watch her walk to the doorway, then turn to stare at  you.  "Um...is the bathroom still on the first floor?"

"First doorway down the hall on your right."

"Oh, that must be new.  There was no downstairs loo years ago."

With a clatter of heels she's gone.  You stare after her...wondering.