We found Freddie in the billiards room.
It had been kitted out in all manner of distractions, from a dart board to a flat-screen television mounted to the oak-panelled wall. Such an environment was a familiar one. Having been brought up by my father, I'd often spent my evenings as a child in the local pub perched on his knee while he laughed and drank with his friends. My father wasn't much of a drinker, but he enjoyed the social interaction and ours was a close-knit community. Half the town packed into the drinking establishments on a Friday night before they staggered home, tripping over the cobbles in the dark and laughing raucously between themselves. It was rather comforting to discover that such a room was a part of the house, and I made a mental note to revisit it when William wasn't an occupant.
Freddie was leaning back against the polished oak bar, his eyes on the television and a remote in his hands. His eyes were pinched in annoyance at the football game being broadcast in crystal clear high definition. At first, I thought he hadn't noticed us as we intruded on his solitude. He proved me wrong when he complained, 'I can't get the English subtitles to work. This stupid thing is broken again.'
'You're French, why do you need subtitles?' I asked.
'They're speaking German.'
'And you're watching it in German because..?' William questioned.
'Because I did something to the remote and I can't change it back.'
It wasn't uncommon for my father to fall asleep on the remote after a long day of work and wake up to find that he'd screwed up the settings. It was why we kept the manual on the coffee table so that he could figure out how to fix it while I was away at school. Confident that I could resolve the issue, I took the remote from Freddie's hand without waiting for permission. My fingers grazed his, and he jumped at the skin contact, but a smile followed so I didn't believe that he was unhappy with my bold actions.
I tapped away at the remote, scooting through all the menus with the speed one only gained with years of practice. The screen turned black before it flickered back to life. With it came the unmistakable sound of a French commentator excitedly jabbering over the game. Thrilled to hear his native language through the speakers, Freddie clapped me on the back. 'Superb! Merci.'
'No problem.' I placed the remote back into his waiting hand.
'How did you know how to –'
'There's not much to do where I live if it's raining. The TV and I spend a lot of quality time together in the winter. I'm Beth, by the way. Nice to meet you. I think.'
'Enchanté,' he greeted. Freddie took my hand in his elegant fingers and bowed his head to kiss my knuckles. It was barely a whisper of a kiss, but it still made me blush. 'I'm not as miserable as my cousin if that's why you're hesitant. I've been looking forward to our meeting, Mademoiselle.'
When Wyatt had kissed my hand, I'd been repulsed. It had been forceful, wet, and entirely unwanted. When Freddie did it, I felt butterflies swarm in my stomach. I supposed it helped when the person bestowing the kiss was both cute and charming.
I gave Lisa a hard time for being boy crazy, but I knew that I could be just as bad. I'd never throw myself after a man or play the fool to get their attention, but I liked a handsome face just as much as any other straight girl my age. It wasn't like I was a nun. I had ovaries, hormones, and fantasies of my own.
'You have?' I asked. 'You make it sound like you'd heard of me before today.'
'Oui. Will's talked about you a lot.'
'All bad, I hope.' I smirked. 'Can't have him spoiling my terrible reputation by speaking well of me.'
'Shut up, Freddie,' William warned before his cousin could reply.
Mischief glimmered in Freddie's eyes. I recognised it as the same flicker I often had in my own. There was nothing quite like finding a kindred spirit in a sea of people who looked at you like you were something they'd stepped in. His gaze didn't leave William's flushed face even as he leaned in and whispered sensually against my ear, 'He said that you were the only person worth dancing with at Charlie and Chantelle's party.'
'Did he?' I asked. My tone was a mixture of intrigue and surprise. 'I mean, I'm not going to disagree. I'm just surprised that he's the one who said it.'
'And your musical abilities are, supposedly, sensationnel.'
'I said that she wasn't bad,' William corrected. 'They need working on.'
'Si tu le dis, cousin...' Freddie replied. I didn't understand French, but sarcasm was a universal language.
'We should get ready for dinner. You can't wear jeans,' William told me. 'My aunt will have a fit.'
'That doesn't put me off wearing them,' I retorted stubbornly. 'In fact, I think that might make the whole thing more fun.'
'She'll take it out on your mother.'
I shrugged. 'I don't care. In case you didn't notice, Mummy and I don't really get along. If I had my way, I'd be spending Christmas with my Dad and a lot of sweaty guys.'
'Mon Dieu, do you live in a male brothel?' Freddie asked playfully.
'Nothing so racy.' I flashed a smile. 'Anyway, are you free to show me around tomorrow? If I stay locked in this house for too long, I'm going to lose my mind. Also, what's the deal with Cosette? Is she a ghost or something? No person should be that pale.'
Freddie grabbed my hands. 'You can see her too?! I thought I was the only one!'
'I'll get the salt and you get the holy water!'
'It's like watching an idiot convention,' William decided. 'You two suit each other.'
'Would it kill you to smile?' I asked. 'Just once.'
'I think he's allergic to those,' Freddie said. 'He laughed a few years ago by accident and he was in bed for weeks. Even a smirk can cause convulsions. He takes medication, now.'
'You're aware that I am still in the room, aren't you?' William asked tersely.
'It's no fun if you can't hear us,' Freddie quipped.
William folded his arms across his chest. I couldn't help but notice the way the buttons strained against the pulling fabric, and the taut seams at his shoulders. It was a shirt cut and fitted to suit his frame, no doubt made specially for him, and it drew the gaze to his strong, toned upper body. Our interactions with one another had been brief and too full of spite for me to pay him much attention before, otherwise I might have noticed earlier just why all the girls in school had been in a spin upon his arrival. Still, it wasn't anything that Freddie didn't have, and it was better to spend time with a guy if he had an attractive personality over a nice body.
I was surprised that William had no other venomous comebacks to spit in my direction. If we'd been at school, then he wouldn't have hesitated to put me back in my place, and Chantelle would have encouraged him in doing so. I wondered if it was because Freddie was present and he didn't want to give his cousin any more ammunition, or if he didn't think it would sit well for him to point out that I was a commoner when my wealthy stepfather could walk in at any moment. He needn't have worried. In fact, I'd have preferred for him to be his usual unpleasant self. This change in demeanor was far more unsettling than a few stinging verbal barbs.
'Can I sit next to you at dinner?' I asked Freddie boldly, taking advantage of the silence. 'That way, you can tell me embarrassing stuff about William.'
'Why would you want to talk about me?' he asked.
'I need the anecdotes,' I said. 'I don't know enough about you to totally ruin your reputation at school, yet. Freddie's my new secret weapon. Is that cool, by the way?' I asked Freddie. 'I'll give you a code name if you agree.'
'What kind of code name?'
'What, you want me to just improvise one?'
'You suggested it.'
'I'm surrounded by morons,' William lamented just loudly enough for us to hear.
We ignored him.
'Fitz?' I offered.
'That's terrible,' Freddie complained. 'You couldn't have said double-oh-seven?'
'No, I really couldn't,' I said. 'You're not British, for a start.'
'Would you two please just come to dinner?' William implored.
'Is he always so whiney?' I asked.
'He's usually worse.' Freddie offered me his arm, and I slipped mine through it comfortably. Freddie winked at William as though he'd achieved something over him. I didn't do William the courtesy of making eye contact with him as we left, because I knew that would annoy him more than a triumphant smile.
If I could spend the entire break making his life hell, then it might not be all that bad after all.