Clementine and her Stalker Chapter Two (standard:romance, 2242 words) [2/7] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Oct 09 2020	Views/Reads: 1059/725	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young creative writing student encounters a beautiful public schoolgirl and finds far more than meets the eye.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“You hang out in all the best places,” she called out on approach, the
spring in her step emphasising what I had begun to realise was a 
stunning figure. 

“I try to,” I said, unsure of how to take her remark. 

“There's a coffee shop further down that's half decent ...” 

“Out of prying eyes?” I said curiously. 

“You could say that.” 

I nodded. “Okay, but I've a request to make before we do.” 

“Which is?” Her sky blue eyes, almost on a level to mine, widened,
practically shining in the evening sunlight, and I had trouble keeping 
my composure. 

“That you desist in calling me stalker – it's rather embarrassing.” 

“Perhaps,” was all she said as she pushed the shop door open, and we
settled at a table away from the window. 

We ordered a couple of lattes, nothing more than that. 

“So,” I said quietly, even though the coffee shop was practically empty,
“how is the daughter of an earl finding Stamford?” 

She fixed those lovely eyes on me, threw her head back, raked a hand
through her ringlets of curls. ‘“The daughter of an earl', as you say, 
hasn't had long to form an opinion.” She sighed, “Not that much 
different from my home town, I suppose.” Clem took a sip of her coffee. 
“And when all said and done, my time here is limited; come end of term, 
school life is over for me, and I'll be off.” 

I stirred my coffee, questions raring to escape my lips. “So what
brought you here in the first place? Minders and Mary-Anne and all ... 
and where are they, and why must you have them?” 

“Tut tut, so many questions. A faint smile spread across her lips before
the coffee cup concealed it. 

“And what do you intend specialising in when you leave here?” I
continued, plunging right in. “Wild parties and naked scenes on 
guildhall roofs?” 

Suddenly those eyes seemed to turn several shades darker, firing virtual
daggers. “My, my – you see you are a stalker,” she said leaning towards 
me. You've been spying ...” 

I threw my hands up. “Simple male curiosity, no offence meant.” She sat
back, chewed her lip, not taking her eyes off mine. “Curiosity could 
get you into all kinds of trouble.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked, not liking the way she'd said
that. 

She shrugged. “Just speaking from experience. You finished? Kind of
stuffy in here, let's take a walk.” 

I nodded and followed her through the door; truth be told, I was indeed
finding it stuffy in there myself, although whether it was the 
temperature or merely Clem's presence, I wasn't sure. 

“So, then, what made you want to delve into my history like a part-time
private detective? she asked once we were outside. 

I was fascinated by her, that was the short answer, but I was not going
to own up to that. So I searched my mind for an explanation that didn't 
seem too soppy. 

“I have an inquisitive mind, that's the main reason.” I winced at the
not-quite-complete explanation and hoped she didn't notice. “After what 
Mary-Anne said,” I continued, “I wondered why you'd need minders and 
why you were here at all. And now I guess I'm beginning to get the 
picture.” I thought I'd gone too far, delved a little too deep, been 
too nosy, and of course, that was true. As we wandered down towards the 
meadows, Clem was quiet, and it wasn't until we reached a bench that 
she plopped down and slapped the space beside her. 

Looking out across the meadows towards the bridge where we'd first
spoken, she said, “It's not all a bed of roses, you know, being an 
earl's daughter. I mean – only daughter I might add. I have an older 
brother Simon who'll be the earl one day. He's pompous and annoys me – 
and I guess I've always been this irritating little sister. Anyhow, I 
guess I rebelled at an early age, got myself a bit of a reputation, 
much to the chagrin of my father, the earl, who by the way is as stuffy 
as they come.” 

She leaned forward, clenched her hands together. “That prank on the
guildhall roof was what did it for Father. He had me railroaded here to 
finish my schooling, figured I couldn't get up to much here, 
particularly with a couple of ‘overseers' as he calls them – a couple 
of staff who'd be better employed on the grounds of the estate – and of 
course, Mary-Anne, who I know for a fact keeps regular contact with my 
father.” 

“So where are they now?” I asked, leaning forward alongside her. She
smiled. “Oh, I've been pretty good during my short time here, not given 
them any reason to get heavy-handed. Simply said I was going for a 
stroll, but I could see the cogs working in Mary-Anne's head. So you 
see I'll have to get back shortly.” 

I nodded. Surprised she'd been so open with me, but what she said next
surprised me even more. 

“Will you be my friend?” 

Friends? I must admit I hadn't seen that coming, but in truth, I wanted
to be a whole lot more than that. But what was the point? She was due 
to return home after the next few weeks. 

“But you'll be going home, surely?” 

“Yes, but we can be friends from a distance, besides, once I leave
school, I can chart my own course – don't need anyone controlling the 
way I act or think. 

She grabbed my hand firmly. “Say yes. I don't have anyone I can
genuinely trust.” 

I looked into those startling eyes again, saw a tinge of emotion there.
I was magnetised by them, couldn't look away. 

“How do you know you can trust me?” 

She shrugged. Stared over at the bridge again. “I sensed it the first
time I saw you.” 

I could concur with that. I might not have ‘sensed' something the first
time I saw her crossing the meadows, but I sure as heck felt it. 

“Okay,” I said, smiling at her. 

“Deal,” she said, finally releasing her grip on my hand. “What say we
make Friday evenings our meeting up time? Down here on the meadows.” 

“Yes,” I said, somewhat bewildered at the speed of this development. 

“I'd like that.” 

“Good. Then we shall. Clem sprang to her feet. I should be getting back,
don't want to make anyone suspicious.” 

“We're not doing any harm,” I protested. 

“No, we're not. But I don't want anyone encroaching, understand?” I
nodded. 

“We'll walk to where we met up, and then I'll leave you. Same time, same
place down here next week, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

And with that, we parted company in St Mary's Passage. I watched her go,
that same bouncing stride of hers. And this time when she looked back, 
I didn't feel the least embarrassed. 

But then, just as I was turning away, who should appear at the top of
the passage but Mary-Anne, with a tall guy by her side. Instantly, even 
at that distance, I felt Mary Anne's piercing eyes sweep past Clem and 
down towards me. I headed away with falling spirits. It was obvious to 
me that Mary-Anne's original suspicions had led to the search for her, 
culminating at the top of the passage. 

Of course, school year was almost at an end, and with that, Clem's time
in Stamford. I'd little idea what she was going to do once she'd left, 
whether her future had been mapped out for her, but from the 
impressions I had of Clem, it didn't seem likely that she could be kept 
in check for so long. It seemed more like a desperate attempt by her 
father, the earl, to set her right before it was too late to intervene. 
Obviously, her previous activities had brought about the surveillance 
she was under; she'd even admitted her rebelliousness. 

But now, after feeling Mary-Anne's eyes on me, even at a distance, it
seemed that our developing friendship would be nipped in the bud. The 
time was barely nine p.m., and by Friday terms, the evening was still 
young. I decided, after all, that I'd drop into the pub where my 
college friends were getting together. On the way, I thought about how 
quickly Clem had appeared at the top of the passage following her phone 
call, and how Mary-Anne and the presumed minder had come from the same 
direction. It occurred to me then that the girls' school lodgings had 
to be close to the passageway. I filed that thought away to memory. 

I walked into the Golden Fleece where a dozen or so from the college
were congregated. There was an amiable ambience, after all, college 
year was nearly done, meaning I was halfway through my two-year course. 
It was the short-haired redhead, Elena, who hit the mark, though a 
little too forcefully when she said, “Who was that girl I just saw you 
with?” She turned to the others and said, “Pretty doesn't sum her up 
... cow!” 

I shook my head, feeling myself reddening. “Oh, just someone I met
recently ... just friends, nothing special.” 

“Not the way I saw it.” Elena scoffed. “The way you two looked at each
other. Still, if you don't want her to associate with us, that's fine.” 
I laughed it off, and then Elena said, “What's her name, anyway?” 
“Clementine,” I whispered, and then repeated a little louder, 

“Clementine.” 

“Oh, posh girl,” came the remark from Ian in the corner. I obviously
wasn't going to let on she was the daughter of an earl and had to 
suffer a boisterous verse of “Oh, my darling Clementine.” I must have 
been redder than a ripe apple by the time they'd finished.  


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