After seeing Brendan's reaction to Bridget ignoring him, Bonnie wondered what the man really expected. There was no doubt he was hoping that she would politely acknowledge him but was he wanting more than that?
When Charles and Rebecca had both commended Bridget's feat of getting down the stairs, Bonnie gently took hold of Bridget's arm and steered her gently to face Brendan. She smiled at the young girl and said warmly, "Bridget, I would like to introduce to you to Mister Connolly."
She paused for a moment before completing the introductions, "Mister Connolly, may I present to you, Miss Bridget Monahan."
@[Javia] Bailey
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She paused for a moment before completing the introductions, "Mister Connolly, may I present to you, Miss Bridget Monahan."
The slight girl with the cropped scalp focused on the person that Miss Bonnie indicated and a big smile crossed her somewhat gormless features. Bridget looked at Miss Bonnie, and moved closer to her, feeling for her hand.
"Man from dream!" she told her excitedly. She stole another shy glance at him. He was very, very pretty: just like in the dreams. Or were they memories? Dreams and memories sort of drifted into each other these days. In the dreams, the nice man didn't have any clothes on, and neither did she. It was exciting.
"Man from dream!" she repeated, louder, so Mrs Wentworth and Mister Wentworth could hear, too.
"Hmmm - Hmmm - Hmmm." she repeated, jerking a little back and forwards with each little noise. She could feel a fit coming on and wanted to stave it off. If she had a fit now, she would wake up somewhere else and the man would be gone: somehow, lost in her brain somewhere was the knowledge that... she must... she must...? Oh, it was there somewhere! Lost like a silver dollar down the back of one of the Wentworth's plush sofas: a reason, a reason she must remember and not start to fit.
"Hmmm - Hmmm - Hmmm." she rocked back and forth: it looked like she was out of control, but it was her way of coping: her mouth worked, but no words came out. She was fighting, this wreck of a girl, fighting to reach inside the mashed up smashed up labyrinth of her crudely rewired brain, and reclaim something of vast importance to her.
Then she stopped, almost panting at the effort and, letting go of Miss Bonnie, lurched forward to the dream man and hugged him tightly.
"Brendan" she said, closing her eyes and smiling. He was Brendan.
Man from dream? Bridget at least remembered something about him. But she didn't seem to remember who he actually was. Because she'd have hugged him by now, wouldn't she?
But then Bridget began rocking back and forth and making a strange noise, one that made Brendan tense up. Was she going to fall down like she had at the funeral parlor that time? He watched, bracing himself against the sofa so he could jump up if she started to keel over.
But she didn't. She just kept making that strange humming noise and jerking back and forth. It hurt Brendan to watch. His eyes darted to Bonnie, and he was just about to jump up and try to do something -- anything, really -- when Bridget finally opened her eyes and said something that let him relax, let him unclench his fists. She said his name.
And then she was hugging him. The way his arms slid around her was natural, like she was meant to fit in his embrace. "Hey, Bridge," he said softly. How he'd missed her.
A little anxiously, he met Bonnie's eyes over Bridget's shoulder. Bonnie was a little less intimidating than Mr. or Mrs. Wentworth. Surely she would tell him or give him some signal if he was doing something he shouldn't.
Finally he pulled away slightly and grabbed Bridget's hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth invited me to tea. Weren't that nice of them?" He flashed a smile at the Wentworths to let them know they could proceed with whatever they had planned. He hoped it wouldn't be up to him to dictate what went on the whole afternoon.
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The human animal has become so conditioned to relying on its overmagnified higher cognitive functions that it is easy for us to forget the power of our more primeval senses: touch, heat awareness, sound, in its most basic forms and scent. However, in Bridget, these senses, perhaps because they were buried and protected deeper in her broken and jury-rigged brain, were more pronounced and important to her understanding of the world. In Brendan's arms, touching him, feeling him, hearing his breathing, smelling his unique pheromones, she truly remembered him as her mate.
Finally he pulled away slightly and grabbed Bridget's hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth invited me to tea. Weren't that nice of them?" He flashed a smile at the Wentworths to let them know they could proceed with whatever they had planned. He hoped it wouldn't be up to him to dictate what went on the whole afternoon.
"Want... to love" she exclaimed, threw herself back onto him, but rather than a chaste embrace, this time she desperately tried to kiss him on the lips, like they had done when they had made love in her bed at the Old Funeral Parlour before Crabbe's death.
She had no idea that this was hardly the time nor the place!
Brendan's eyes widened at Bridget's next words. "Wait a m-" The rest of his protest was smothered as Bridget flung herself at him. Most times that phrase was used figuratively, but in Bridget's case she actually did throw herself at him.
And for a second Brendan just sat there. Bridget might have gotten in a quick smooch before Brendan was able to start disentangling himself from her embrace. "Wait, Bridget. Bridget!" He tried to keep his voice calm in spite of his heart pounding and his blood starting to rush places it shouldn't be at the moment. Lordy, he'd missed Bridget so much. He hadn't realized how much.
Finally he pulled back enough to hold her at arm's length. He was breathing a little heavily, but he looked into her eyes and touched her cheek gently. "Not now, Bridget. Later. Okay? Just...sit here with me." He used the same quiet, soothing tone he would have used on an animal as he guided her to sit beside him on the sofa, keeping both her hands folded in his.
No telling what later meant to Bridget. It might have meant in a few minutes or a few days, but for Brendan it meant not ever -- or at least not until he and Bridget were alone together. But they weren't alone now. Bonnie and the Wentworths were there, and there was no telling what they thought of Bridget's behavior. Or his own.
He turned to the Wentworths with an apology rising to his lips. It was going to be an apology on Bridget's behalf, a "sorry about her" apology. But he realized he shouldn't apologize for Bridget. She didn't know any better. She was only acting this way because of him. Because of what he'd done.
"Sorry," he muttered, wishing he could loosen his tie a little. But he didn't dare let go of Bridget.
@ [JulieS
@ [Javia
Want... dolls!
Luckily for Brendan, Bridget was more than content to just sit there holding hands with her handsome beau, and after looking around the room at everybody and announcing "Brendan!!" in a loud voice, she spent most of the time just looking at him longingly and grinning like a Cheshire Cat!
Then, suddenly, she frowned at the window, then smiled and then shouted "'A'Bella!! A'Bella!!" There was a yelp from outside as a black haired head disappeared downwards from view. Even the ground-floor windows of the Wentworth's fine brick townhouse were a way up off the street, but Jemima Wigfall had lifted up the featherweight young actress with ease to 'check that everything was going OK' inside the house.
The surprise recognition of Brendan happened so quickly that Bonnie or the Wentworths only had time to react. The Wentworths had gotten quickly to their feet but held off. For Bonnie, Bridget's behaviour was in part a little startling. At least, she could be thankful that Brendan seemed to be showing some constraint.
Finally he pulled back enough to hold her at arm's length. He was breathing a little heavily, but he looked into her eyes and touched her cheek gently. "Not now, Bridget. Later. Okay? Just...sit here with me." He used the same quiet, soothing tone he would have used on an animal as he guided her to sit beside him on the sofa, keeping both her hands folded in his.
A frown briefly appeared on Bonnie's face. Her suspicions were confirmed that Brendan's relationship with Bridget was indeed more than just platonic. Whatever his feelings for her young charge, he surely must know that unless his circumstances changed drastically there was no way he could look after Bridget. The sad thing was that as she got older the more she would be needing twenty-four hour care. As for the hints of their sexual relationship continuing that was also in question.
Neither her or the Wentworths were sure if Bridget could bear a child or not. Her current condition indicated that it might not be possible but then again, from her own experience, Bonnie knew that it could happen. It was something else the Wentworths would probably take into consideration when they decided Bridget's future.
However, Bonnie didn't have much more time to think about when Bridget shouted...
"'A'Bella!! A'Bella!!" There was a yelp from outside as a black haired head disappeared downwards from view. Even the ground-floor windows of the Wentworth's fine brick townhouse were a way up off the street, but Jemima Wigfall had lifted up the featherweight young actress with ease to 'check that everything was going OK' inside the house.
Bonnie looked at the Wentworths and waited to see what would happen next.
@[Javia] Bailey
Why couldn't Arabella just keep her nose out of other people's business? Brendan frowned at the window where Arabella had been a moment ago. He should have known something would happen.
"Yeah, that's Arabella," he said encouragingly to Bridget. "I told her she didn't need to come around today, but you know her. She don't listen too good."
See, that felt better. The more he focused on Bridget, the less awkward everything seemed. It was a pity he couldn't ignore Bonnie and the Wentworths entirely. But they were his hosts, so he had to try to make conversation somehow.
"She seems to be walkin' better. How's she doin' with other things?" He glanced from Bonnie to Mrs. Wentworth, who probably had the most dealings with and involvement in Bridget's day to day life. He didn't see anything wrong with talking about Bridget while she was there. He knew she might not understand everything he and her guardians talked about, but she would be able to follow along better than one might have expected her to. Before the fever, at least. That might have changed.
@ [Javia
Want... dolls!
"Yeah, that's Arabella," he said encouragingly to Bridget. "I told her she didn't need to come around today, but you know her. She don't listen too good."
"Ha ha! Ar'bella!" Bridget repeated "At window!" She grinned madly at Brendan while her lover made very earnest, sensible conversation with the Wentworths and Miss Bonnie.
"She seems to be walkin' better. How's she doin' with other things?" He glanced from Bonnie to Mrs. Wentworth, who probably had the most dealings with and involvement in Bridget's day to day life.
"Ha ha! Ar'bella at Window!!" Bridget suddenly laughed again. The sight had clearly tickled her. Suddenly she jumped up and stomped over to the window and peered out. "Where?!" she asked.
For a moment both Bonnie and the Wentworths feared that Bridget might go into one of her fits from all of the excitement. Thankfully, Bridget was taking it in all in her stride and the fears subsided. There was so much they didn't know about Bridget's condition and each day was a learning curve. Bonnie wondered how Brendan would be able to handle the fact that he wouldn't know from one day to the next how Bridget would fare.
"She seems to be walkin' better. How's she doin' with other things?" He glanced from Bonnie to Mrs. Wentworth, who probably had the most dealings with and involvement in Bridget's day to day life.
Bonnie listened as Mrs. Wentworth told Brendan that Bridget was slowly improving after her recent illness but neglected to tell him her forgetfulness and other matters that were of concern. The truth was they were still unsure about Brendan and they had their doubts. However, now was not the time to have such a conversation. Even thought Bridget would be considered a simpleton by most people, Bonnie and the Wentworths suspected she understood a lot of what was going on around her.
Seeing that Bridget was still pre-occupied with trying to find Arabella, Bonnie got up and went over to her. She placed her hands on the girl's shoulders and gently whispered, "We can go and look for Arabella later but for now it's time for afternoon tea. Brendan is waiting to take you to the dining room?"