Chapter Text
It took two tries for the car door to close properly. Vague wrappers and tissues served as the only interior decoration for the rusty fossil. Archaic stains were painted with a clumsy hand across the fabric of the passenger seat Bond now sat down in, at first with some reservation.
He heard Brian working in the back of the car, throwing Bond’s suitcases in with who-knows-what that lived in his trunk. Bond dared a glance back to the seats behind him and beheld a visage like no other. Cardboard boxes filled with Brian’s old records and sticky Coca Cola bottles took up most of the space. Leaving only a sliver of seat available to his pet Beagle, Grace Kelly. Brian hadn’t stopped the praise pouring from his mouth about the actress’s— from whom his Beagle got her name— new movie, “To Catch a Thief”— he said it was a hit. Bond had nodded politely and listened to his friend’s constant drawl.
Brian closed the trunk with a loud click and Bond heard his feet travel along the gravel and up to the driver’s door. It opened and his friend appeared in the vacated space of the seat next to him. Brian fumbled for his keys in his trouser pockets before pulling them out with a triumphant smile and sliding them into the slot. The engine roared to life and Brain looked at Bond with an elated expression.
“Great isn’t it? Brand new, just got it last week. This’ll be its first long distance trip.” Brian glowed as he traced the dashboard with his palm, relishing in its finery.
“You’ve managed to make it your own quite quickly.” Bond commented, his eyes sweeping to the floor and the mess that resided there. You would think someone might have some trepidation about the matter of making so homely so quickly— but Brian was always one for speed.
“Oh, yes! That— right, right I’ve been meaning to clean it up. Must have slipped my mind. Oh well, at a later date perhaps.”
“Yes, well shall we get going then? Long trip ahead of us, eh?” Bond commented, his lips pulling up into a smile. Around them the steady bustle rose and fell in it’s clamoring to get places and do things. It was only just before noon that they were leaving London, though Bond had originally wished to leave sooner so as to avoid the traffic that now presented itself. As Brian turned the wheel over itself to pull out Bond used the lever to roll the window and allow some air into the hot car.
Summer had come with its confident conviction as it did every year and Bond relished in its faith. The air had grown hot and thick and everything and everyone became sticky. Family picnics filled parks and kites flew through the light Bond found so bright and abrasive on thin and trickling winds that gave the occasional strong gusts. Grass was greener and love was more common— at least for the young and upcoming. Double decker buses passed their car on both sides, parading tourists and natives alike through the streets of summer London that hummed with common life.
Brian turned left, passing a sign, advising people to ‘Have a Coke’ and assuring that they were ‘delicious’ and ‘refreshing’. Bond scoffed as they pulled out of view of the advertisement.
“So a whole summer huh?” Brian started, blinking to Bond and then back to the road ahead.
“Yeah,” Bond answered. “My family has an old house out in the country. It’s isolated so I figured it would work well for writing. It’s by a lake too.”
“So there’s some inspiration right there!” Brian exclaimed, trying to encourage Bond who didn’t need it. “Nothing like nature, am I right?” He tapped the steering wheel twice to affirm that he was and nodded his head to himself. “So how about, “To Catch a Thief”? You seen it yet?”
“Come on, Brian!” Bond complained in a friendly tone. “Not this again— you haven’t stopped talking about it for weeks!” Bond rubbed his legs and licked his lips to refresh them from the heat. He was beginning to sweat under his jacket so he pulled it off and set it stop his legs.
“Just trying to take your mind off Diane buddy.”
“Well mentioning her doesn’t help much!” Bond said with exasperation, losing some of his playful tone.
“Then maybe you should talk about it?” Brian suggested innocently, shrugging his shoulders and keeping his eyes ahead.
Bond stared at Brian for a long moment, “What’s done is done. I’ve still got my writing and I’ll focus on that.” Bond nodded his head, he had repeated this mantra to himself more times that once or twice. “Maybe even get a book published, who knows?”
“Yeah,” Brain chimed in. “Who knows. Great things ahead for you James, don’t you worry—” After a pause. “—And don’t you go and do anything you’ll regret alright?”
Bond didn’t respond, he knew what Brian meant and didn’t need any clarification. He had been engaged to Diane for three years— with her for five— before she left him for a guy name Keith. Bond had never heard of him before but he took his fiancé anyways. Since then, people had been worrying after his health. While he appreciated their solicitous behavior at first, after a while all they served as were constant reminders that James was supposed to be sad. People feared James would take his own life out of a broken heart. He assured them she hadn’t meant that much to him and it wasn’t a total lie. He had loved her, sure— of course he did. But he wasn’t a wreck and he was getting better. But people that thought they knew better kept knocking him back down and calling it denial. But maybe there was blame on Bond’s side about why their engagement lasted three years— and why the last six months of it lacked in the bedroom.
“You hear me, James? No funny business, okay?” Brain tried to meet Bond’s eyes, ducking his head and searching. Bond pushed Brian’s shoulder lightly so he’d look back up.
“Keep your goddamn eyes on the road Brain!” Bond shouted. He swerved to miss scratching the paint on another car and was given a curt honk. “And yeah, yeah I get it. I’m good Brian.”
“Alright. Just checking.”
Bond was getting tired of people checking. He hoped this summer would be filled with nothing but the click of a typewriter and the blissful silence due to a lack of people ‘just checking’. Neither of them said a word for the rest of the drive.
°°°
The trip took four hours in total and Bond’s anticipation rose to an eager high as the roads turned to dirt and the trees stretched their thick limbs and thin fingers toward the ruthless sun. Decaying wooden fences and pins sagged with age and Brian’s car kicked up dust along the road. Bond turned his head to look back at the cloud they raised with their passing. Past knots of trees James could glimpse flashes of brooks and streams that raced with them. Small lakes with the occasional fisher dotted the land and rolling green hills were all to be seen after a while.
As they drew nearer, the trees grasped each other’s hands above and created a canopy of green leaves and shade, except for the momentary break in the leaves that shook with warm and steady gusts of wind. Marks of civilization began to appear as low stonewalls came into view along the road. Between low hanging braches, Bond could see the outline of a stone house coming into view. And as Brian pulled the wheel over itself once more, they rounded the last corner a stopped, the engine still lively, in front of the house.
It was more run down that Bond had originally expected but it possessed a near mystical quality. Wild patches of ivy danced and dug into the rising front walls of the estate. French style windows were open and flowing white curtains had been permitted to bellow out. The roof was home to a thick coating of moss that wrapped its arms around the chimney. A large and wild lawn stretched out in front of the house, cut down the middle by a stone and gravel pathway that led up to the front porch.
“It’s spectacular.” Bond whispered and Brian seemed to hear him. He turned the key and removed it from the slot, bringing the cars dull thrum of life to a stop. He ducked his head to get a better look out of the windshield.
“Yeah, pretty great James! You’re going to have one hell of a summer here. Make sure to clean it up before you bring any birds over, alright?”
James rolled his eyes and pulled the handle to open the door. He pushed it with his shoulder and pulled his feet up and out, grabbing his jacket so it didn’t fall into the dirt. He squinted as his eyes adjusted and stretched his legs that ached from the long drive. Brian did the same on his side of the car, finishing his stretch and walking around to the back of the car and opened the trunk once more, reaching in and pulling out James’ bags. He set them on the ground; there were three. Bond gave one glance up at the house then trotted to the trunk and picked up one bag in each hand.
“Help me with the last one, would you?” Bond asked Brian as he turned and began to walk up the path to the red front door. And old brass knocker that resembled a roaring lion adorned the door.
“’Course!” Brain called through the summer air. He picked up the last bag and followed James up the pathway to where he stood, arms relaxed.
“Well,” Brian said, dropping the third and final bag at James’ feet. “Do you want me to help you move in or are you good?”
“I think I’m good, thanks Brian. Did you get my typewriter? I think it’s still in the trunk.”
Brian turned to look at the car sitting in the dirt before the lawn. “Right, I’ll get it.” He ran back down the path, looking through the back for a moment before he located it and reached both arms back came out with Bond’s typewriter. Brian grabbed the handle of the green case and hauled it with a shuffle back up the narrow gravel path. He handed it off to Bond when he reached him and James nodded his head with a grateful smile.
“Thanks Brian, you’ve been a great help. You’ve been an alright friend too.”
Brian rustled his hair with fake embarrassment, “Why thank you, James.” He reached forward the slap Bond’s shoulder amiably. “Take care of yourself, old friend. I’ll keep your good name intact and shoot down any rumor that arises, alright?”
“Yeah, hold down the fort mate. I’ll see you sometime this summer right? You’ll bring Janice and the kids down for a visit, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Brian decided. “Janice loves getting out of the city and it would do the kids some good. We’ll come up for a week or so later this summer.”
“Great! Sounds like a plan. See you, Brian. Thanks again for driving me up here.”
“No problem, gave me a chance to clear my head.” Brian smiled at James and turned to walk down the path. He stopped and turned back halfway down. “Take care of yourself James!”
James nodded and waved as Brian got into his car, started it, and drove away down the drive. Bond dropped his hand as he disappeared into the green foliage and out of view. Bond watched the spot for another few minutes before turning to the door and grabbing the handle firmly. He turned it and it bent without resistance. James had been told that there was a house caretaker that stayed during the summer, but besides then, the house was left unattended. Which explained the massive overgrowth of the lawn and bushes surrounding the estate.
He set his typewriter down inside the house and picked up and placed each bag inside as well. He stepped into the house, the wood floors creaking under his weight.
“Hello?” He called up through the open rafters on the ceilings and the large staircase the reached upwards to distant floors. No one answered after a few minutes so Bond called up again. This time a woman’s head appeared to look down at him from the top of the stairs.
“You’re Mr. Bond?” she called down, walking around a banister and stepping out to stand at the top of the stairs.
“Yes,” James called. “I’ve got— I’ve got my stuff right here.” He said motioning to his bags stacked together in the open space past the door.
“Right then, don’t dawdle. I’m the grounds keeper not your nanny. Carry your own bags up!”
Bond gave a quick start and nodded, turning to grab two bags in one hand and the remaining bag in the other. “Is my room up there?”
The young woman nodded and motioned to hurry up. Bond started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the crest he saw the girl’s receding back swaying down the hallway to the left. She stopped at a door midway down the hall and to the left, pushing it open and looking back to see if Bond was following. At her back glance James hurried down the hall to where she waited, giving an apologetic smile for his slowness and entering through the open door.
A double bed with sky blue sheets and white walls greeted him as he entered. The windows still held their mouth of and let their white tongues spill out so one could peek through and look at the backyard. There was the lake Bond remembered from childhood visits, glimmering in the afternoon light like shards of glass had been woven into its surface. A battered wooden dock stretched out into the water where a rowboat was tethered. Across the water Bond made out a small colorful speck.
“Neighbors?” James inquired, tilting his head to the side so the woman could hear his question.
“Your family sold some of the land to some rich people about ten years back. They built that house you see over there. Nice, isn’t it?”
“From what I can see yes,” Bond agreed, setting down his burden and crossing to the window for a better view. It was a pale yellow with the same ivy that crawled up Bond’s estate. James thought he saw a few rose bushes from where he stood but he wasn’t sure. “They know I’m here?”
“Yes, Mr. Bond. I’m sure one day this week you’ll be invited to dinner.”
“Right,” Bond said, turning from the window and getting a better look at his new companion. She was slender and tall with curves to die for. She wore a bright yellow fabric with a floral pattern and a high waisted brown belt. The neckline was drawn over her color bones in a modest fashion. She sported white heels with open toes. Her round eyes were framed by a fall of curly black hair. She was a Negro, but Bond didn’t believe in racism. Her eyelashes boasted their length and a clever smile played across her lips.
“Your name?” Bond inquired.
“Eve Moneypenny. You can call me Eve, though.” She held her hand out, the other firmly planted to her waist. Bond reached out to grasp it, her hands were small and soft but her grip was firm and equalizing.
“Nice to make your acquaintance Eve. I’m James Bond, you can call me James.”
“It’s nice to meet you James. I’ll let you get settled, dinner’s in an hour— but only for tonight. I’m not your cook, you hear me?”
“I do.” He assured her.
“Good.” she said, making her way out the door with the clicking and clacking of her shoes to mark her progress. After her footsteps could no longer be heard about the house, Bond ventured downstairs to retrieve his typewriter that he had left by the door. He flitted back upstairs, not wishing to disturb Eve at her work in the kitchen.
He set the typewriter down upon the bed and dragged a wooden desk from the corner to beneath the window, liking the view better from there. He placed the typewriter on the desk and brought a chair over to sit down in. He sat quietly, staring out of the window and remembering vaguely summer sport by the lake with his family all those years ago. He had not been to the manor since he was eight or some age around that. He was an only child of a wealthy man who had died in a crash and a woman who had died of cancer only a few years after they came here last.
Bond looked out once more to the yellow house tucked away under the trees and wondered who lived there and if they were visiting with family and for how long. Perhaps company would not be such a vulgar thing if they didn’t know about his unfortunate circumstances for vacation. From his high perch Bond thought he saw a speck emerge from the house and walk slowly around the garden and to the edge of the lake. He looked out across the water as James did now and he wondered if the speck could see him from his window.
The wind had died down and the white curtains hung limply now from the open windows. As the sun began to set the chill began to sink in its claws as well. Bond dragged the mess of curtains into the room and leaned out to pull the window shut, reaching for a few moments before he managed to grab a hold on it. As he gained purchase and started to shut it he looked back to the dot that seemed to be looking up at Bond as he closed the window. Bond stood still and returned the stare.
“Dinner!” Eve called up through the halls.
Bond stared a moment longer before closing the window completely and turning away, starting for the door.
“Coming!” Bond called in return, glancing back once more though he knew the speck couldn’t see him now. Was that the house’s owner or a guest? James shrugged and figured he would find out sooner or later when they invited him to dinner. He shut the wooden door to his room behind him as he made the walk down the dinning room.
As he began to smell the dinner that awaited him, Bond decided that coming here was a good decision.