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Author Topic: Catty's latest offering  (Read 282 times)

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Offline cattycutieTopic starter

Catty's latest offering
« on: August 02, 2011, 09:40:10 PM »
I'm looking, really looking for a character-driven, unlikely and almost reluctant romance story, looking into the relationships between Imogen, Nathan (the name can be changed) and Michael. Plenty of room for twists, Charlotte, Immy's family, and just about anything else you can think of. I'm definitely not looking at this being a one-shot, though if the right person comes along, who knows?

“Does Mr. Turner suggest that the alleged events took place with the consent of the complainants? No, he does not. Mr. Turner denies that any such incident ever occurred. Can you, as a jury, be sure that Mr. Turner was involved in any such misconduct? The defence does not think so. After all, the amount of alcohol that had been consumed by the complainants was... Surprising, for two such young women, I’m sure you’d agree. Over the course of this trial, it has been established that each complainant had a very real reason to dislike, maybe even hate the defendant. ‘Taking her away’ was the phrase used by the younger sister, Emily, to describe the change in her relationship with a woman who was like a second mother to her, after the start of her relationship with the defendant. The elder, Sophie, apparently had no problem with him, until it came to the issue of her smoking. If you believe that these young women could have lied, you must bring back a verdict of not guilty.” She was in the public gallery of a courtroom, watching her older, more formally attired self presenting a defence for a sexual offences case she’d recently watched as part of her study.

“Imogen... Wake up.” Imogen Baker was being gently shaken awake by her arm, her law textbook still wide open on her knee. Her eyes opened groggily, adjusting to the magnification of her glasses again. The clock on the mantle, with its unimposing hands and numerals read, after a moment for her to gather how to tell the time, read 11:45.

“I’m awake, Nathan. How long have you been home?” She awaited her answer; though she was sure as hell it would send her around the twist to hear it.

“About 10 minutes – thought I’d let you rest for a little while after such a long night with Mikey.”

Michael Lee Carter was the son of Nathan Carter and his ex-wife Charlotte. A bright, gifted, endlessly polite, loving, sweet 6 year-old, who Imogen simply adored. He was at the same school as her sister, and one day, while her mother was waiting in the playground, Nathan had told her he was looking for a babysitter to watch Michael after school. That was two years ago now, before he and Charlotte had divorced, although it had been far from a good relationship when she arrived on the scene. Charlotte had left with Nathan’s best friend, and had spoken to neither Nathan nor Michael since. While this had been hard on the lad, Imogen had done her best to keep both him and his father on track, well aware that if she didn’t cook reheatable meals for when Nathan got home, he wouldn’t bother to eat, and if Michael had to wait up for his father to read him a story every night, he would get nowhere near enough sleep. She understood that Nathan had to work; he had a demanding job, but why that meant he couldn’t manage one evening a week with his son, she just didn’t know.

All that aside though, she and Nathan had grown very close Imogen being the only person he saw regularly enough to share his problems with.

Imogen was at the end of her first year at a top university, studying law. She was nineteen, with an unguarded passion for all things papery and book-like, a keen mind and a razor-sharp tongue, though the latter only applied to people who annoyed her. With gorgeous dark curls, big blue eyes and a lovely smile, Imogen was also very attractive. But even despite all the things she had going for her, she didn’t socialise at all, and was ridiculously nervous in public.

Here though, where she’d been spending more time than she did anywhere else lately, she was quite prone to falling asleep on the sofa and being sharp and playful and generally herself.

“You should have woken me.  And come home earlier.” She swung her legs down from the sofa where she’d been curled up reading and stood up, textbook in hand. “Dinner’s in the microwave and we’ve sorted out Michael’s room this afternoon. His homework is on the dining table, done, so that wants to go in with him in the morning. I have an exam in the morning, so I’m sure you won’t mind if I make a dash for it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She slipped on her jacket and shoes, and then picked up her rucksack to leave. “Don’t forget his homework.” Imogen called as she stepped out of the door, into the pleasantly cool night.