[identity profile] halfaustere.livejournal.com
April 12, 1962.

Robert's primary fear was that it wouldn't be perfect.

This as a fear, he thought as Colin's driver steered the old Mercedes limo toward the Fitzwilliam estate, was both surprisingly grounded and utterly ridiculous. Of course it wouldn't be perfect – nothing was perfect. Nothing except perhaps for Alice. His intent. He wanted everything for her to be perfect – that was why he was careful, too, to dress in a way that was impeccable without being overly formal. Careful to get a car that would make her smile. Careful to be sure, with Isabella's help, that the restaurant was perfect.

They did, in fact, rent the entire thing out. No one else would be there except for waiters and Robert and his hopeful lady love. The way it wouldn't be perfect, though, that would be if it didn't quite work. Alice had been reticent to accept.

And she might not like her gift.

"What're you so worried about?" the driver – Robert confessed, in secret, to Dawn that he'd forgotten the man's name and she'd laughed and hadn't told him – asked as he stopped the car, got out to help Robert with his door. "I mean, she loves you, right? She must love you for all this, sir."

Robert shook his head a little. "I'm not sure."

And he took off his hat – a different hat, a proper dress hat that was the same navy blue as the rest of his suit – and held it to his chest, and walked up to the door.

Pulling the bell wasn't nearly as terrifying this time as it had been before. )
[identity profile] halfaustere.livejournal.com
April 1, 1962

Outside the door of the Fitzwilliam Estate in Corsham, Robert Ellingsworth Capio (M.D.) was standing and staring at the pull of the bell. Staring, and thinking. Taking an assessment of what was going on.

Mentally talking to himself.

Inside, Charlie Fitzwilliam was chasing his younger sister Alice around the foyer. Robert didn't know that, but he did know he kept hearing screaming. It wasn't quite passing through the layer of thought currently taking up most of the space, though – if he'd realized they were Alice's screams, maybe he would have actually gotten the nerve to go indoors more quickly, in the very high off-chance she was in danger in her own home.

Danger would put off what he was about to do more. It wasn't like he wanted to put it off, either, not really – he wanted to make sure it was all right. He wanted to fix things. He wanted – he wanted Alice to be his, truth be told, and he needed to do this to make it right. )
[identity profile] halfaustere.livejournal.com
March 1962

Robert had been off all night.

Not off enough to cancel his plans – a relaxing dinner with Alice at a small place by the hospital – apparently, but somewhat less sociable and cheerful than he often was. While Robert was no Sully, he also usually wasn't quite this solemn. Though he was happy to speak and kept a smile on, it was obviously somewhat put upon and he didn't really suggest any topic of conversation on his own.

Mostly because he hadn't wanted to plague Alice with why. He knew if he'd talked about his day he'd just end up crying, and so he kept his mouth shut, and when the tube pulled up and they stood to board, Alice arm in arm with him, he had to actually stop himself from sighing in relief lest she think it had something to do with her.

Truly, Alice was the only thing that day that hadn't been miserable.

But she was certainly paranoid.

At first, she had assumed Robert was tired. He had a full schedule where she had twenty four hours of free time every day. It wasn't unusual for him to be overworked, but this was different than overworked. So Alice was paranoid, because even though she had no reason to be (they weren't dating, after all, no matter how convinced she was that Robert felt the same way about her she did for him), he was still unhappy, and she had kept her worries in for the better part of an hour, but was going to keep herself up all night if she didn't ask him what was wrong.

She just couldn't do it yet. )
babyjosephine: (A determined young thing)
[personal profile] babyjosephine
End of February. 1962.

"All I'm saying," Alice was saying, "is that a bit of ketamine in a glass of water wouldn't really hurt anyone and it would be bloody hilarious! You could bring a video recorder, even. Daddy's got one I could lend you!"

(It was a very warm day for so late in February. Temperatures had jumped quite randomly out of nowhere and suddenly felt like spring, though the stuffy man on television said they were due for cold weather again in a day or so. To take advantage of the situation, Alice, as well as Robert, Dawn, Mikey, and, of course, Sully, were out in one of the fields by Alice's house, where it was warmest, and a bit off their heads.)

"Isn't ketamine for animals?" was Sully's take, looking thoughtfully between Alice and Dawn, who was, in fact, a chemist.

Robert was looking thoughtfully between them... )
babyjosephine: (Default)
[personal profile] babyjosephine
Early January of 1962.

Alice had finished what might have been lunch had any of them (them being Vi and Mallory and Alice) actually eaten. All it really was, was an hour of irritating everyone around them at a little London cafe by laughing very loudly at things that weren't even funny. There was also Alice's first participation in a Robert discussion with any interest, but they had disliked her continual lack of enthusiasm (she still pretended to be less interested than she was).

So Alice left when the other two had to return to work, which was the hospital right near their chosen lunch spot, and decided to go shopping before driving home.

Only a mere three minutes later, though, there was a voice behind her. Actually, there was a person behind her – many people, even – but one voice was louder than the rest, female, with tinges of a Northumberland accent, and somewhat familiar.

'Even in winter days that hair stands out – Alice!' )

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