The Beginning

Annabelle was tired. She had sat up until late last night watching
"The Lonely Hearts Club", a tacky games show inviting would-be
newly-weds to extol the virtues and misdemeanours of their former
fianc? and win prizes for being the most inventive story teller.
Usually, as in all game shows, the misdemeanours outweighed the
virtues.
She stretched and tried to remember a time when she felt truly happy.
Happiness was not something she had experienced for a long while and
she currently felt as if Atlas had asked to her to stand in for him
while he went on a permanent holiday. Perhaps it was the weather.
It was January 1st, a clear, crisp day; full of optimism and
expectancy. However, life was not so good for Annabelle. She didn't
know why. She had a cosy house in Great Budworth, a good job as a music
lecturer at Manchester University, loving parents, two little sisters
who looked up to her and a gorgeous Irish wolfhound called Finn. She
even lived opposite a pub! But still something was missing.
She looked around the living room in which, up until now, she had been
enjoying a good argument with the music critics on Radio 4, and her
eyes rested on a sleek, silver photo frame on her antique writing table
sitting quietly by a couple of dusty manuscripts. The irony of this
juxtaposition wasn't lost on her; she felt as dusty as the manuscripts
looked. The photo was of two rather handsome men of about twenty-eight
and twenty-nine years old who went by the names of Siegfried and
Sebastian Buchanan. Sebastian was one of Annabelle's oldest friends;
Siegfried was his rather irresponsible brother. Siegfried wasn't
obviously attractive, but he had enough of the tall, dark and handsome
clich? apparent about him to make him quite eligible as an object of
lust. She screwed up her eyes, rested her head on the back of the sofa
and fought the lump in her throat. So that was what it was. It was
Siegfried, or the lack of him, that had her so depressed.
Siegfried was one of the peripatetic music teachers at Manchester
University; specialising in strings, in particular, the cello.
Generally thought of by the whole department as something of a dashing
rake, he had pursued Annabelle for months before finally getting her to
agree to go to the opera with him. ("The opera? On a first date?"
Annabelle had replied.) She had turned him down for so long because she
knew that his reputation, especially among the first year music
students, was legendary. In the end, she had only agreed to go on a
date to stop him pestering her every hour of the day. But only one
date.
"Only one?" Siegfried had asked, the day before, with a smile. "I
won't bite you know."
"Yes, but I know you, Siegfried, and I don't trust you an inch."
Annabelle had retorted with a wry smile.
"Oh, Annabelle! I'm hurt."
"Well, so you should be."
"So what time should I pick you up, then?" he had asked with a
grin.
"Oh, go away, Siegfried, I have a pile of marking to do."
"Now, that's not the way to speak to your date, is it?"
Annabelle had just looked at him. She had thought it was rather a good
look and brought across the point adequately. Siegfried had other
ideas. He had walked over from the door frame of her office, where he
had propped himself, to her desk and lay on it.
"C'mon, Annabelle, darling, you know you can't resist me," he had
purred provocatively.
Annabelle had raised an eyebrow and pushed him off the desk. He had hit
the floor with a thud, got up, dusted himself off and throwing her a
theatrically camp kiss and wink combination, had sauntered off to find
his next student.
Annabelle smiled at the memory of this and got up from her ancient,
huge sofa. Walking through to the large, rustic kitchen, she gave Finn
a tickle behind the ears, and put the kettle on. After attacking the
chocolate cupboard with intent, she settled down at the kitchen table
with a mug of tea and recalled the date with Siegfried itself.
All in all, it wasn't a complete disaster. They did indeed go to the
opera; "Dialogues des Carmelites" by Poulenc, and the production proved
to be outstanding. Dinner afterwards was great and the wine was superb.
However, being the incurable anti-monogamist he was, Siegfried not only
proved his eligibility, but acted on it with several girls in the bar
they had a drink in afterwards as well.
Annabelle wasn't surprised. She didn't know why she had agreed to go
out with him in the first place. Now she was sure that Siegfried
Buchanan was an egotistical narcissist and unable to resist temptation.
But underneath all of the affectations and semi-suave behaviour,
Siegfried had got to her. She had never been so excited by anyone in
her life and to be pursued doggedly like that was immensely
flattering.
When they got back after the date, she had invited Siegfried in;
something akin to allowing a vampire to cross the threshold. However,
she had offered him a coffee and then politely showed him the door.
Siegfried wasn't at all put out. He smiled in a somewhat amused fashion
and gave in; not at all what Annabelle had been expecting. In fact, he
was a perfect gentleman and after ostentatiously kissing her hand on
departure, he drove off in a perfectly happy manner.
It was this twist in her preconception of his behaviour that had
affected Annabelle, and though she hated to admit it, she wouldn't have
said no to a second rendezvous. She had run through the date so many
times it was like an old movie in her head and studying it closer, she
thought that maybe she had been much too defensive. If Siegfried
Buchanan was really a gentleman away from real life, would it not be
worth pursuing a possible relationship with him?
Annabelle wasn't sure on this point, but thinking about it wasn't
going to help anything. Finishing the remains of her tea, she grabbed
the dog lead, whistled to Finn and headed for the back door. Finn, who,
on catching his mistress' mood, had been lying mournfully under the
table, leapt up with excitement and bounded after her. Annabelle
smiled. At least there was one creature that really loved her and
anyway, a walk might clear her head. Pulling on her mud-encrusted
walking boots, she set out in a more optimistic frame of mind.

Sebastian passed a hand over his eyes and tried to understand what
Siegfried was talking about on the other end of the phone line.
"I'll spell it out slowly, shall I?" Siegfried said, "Annabelle has
fallen for me hook, line and sinker. She went out with me to see a
wonderful Poulenc opera (which incidentally, you must see; it's a
darling production) and she had a wonderful time. I bet she's never had
it so good."
"The depths to which you are so, so egotistical astound me" Sebastian
said. "I can't believe that Annabelle actually agreed in the first
place. She knows your reputation as well as I do."
"Indeed, piglet, but she also finds me immensely attractive."
"That I also find hard to believe" Sebastian remarked.
"My darling brother, I know no one loves me as well as you do, so drop
the act. Shall I ask Annabelle for a second date, do you think?"
"I don't think. So, why do you want Annabelle all of a sudden? There
are plenty of conquests to be had with your younger girlies."
"Yes, but my "younger girlies" are all far too immature and, anyway,
I'm getting bored of them. Plus, Annabelle is quite intriguing. I've
never had anyone hold out for so long against me" Siegfried said with a
smile.
"Yes, well, make sure you don't hurt her, you rapscallion. I don't
want to have to pick up the pieces after you've broken her
heart."
" She isn't a china doll, brother dear. I wonder sometimes why you are
so protective of her, but you never will tell me which, incidentally, I
shall never forgive you for. Anyway, I must be off. I have a
particularly sweet blonde waiting for a lesson. Ciao, darling."
"Ciao." Sebastian sighed and mentally prepared himself for the
counselling to come.