heart, a conscience for
offending little old me,” I lilted, acting upset and fluttering my
eyelids.
Looking at me like he
was aware of my sarcasm but playing along anyway, he replied, “I
admit I may have been a bit of a 'fuck-nut' as you so eloquently put
it. Sorry, I really shouldn't have spoken to you like that,” he
apologised, one side of his mouth curving up in a devastatingly sexy
way.
Trying to ignore the
fact that the temperature in the room seemed to have gone up a
hundred degrees, I jumped down from my stool.
“Well, lead the way, oh dutiful
brother, we can't have your little sister pissed at you, can we?” I
directed with a swing of my arm, earning a shake of the head from a
begrudgingly entertained Tudor North.
Seated at the table
next to Tudor, I fell into easy conversation with the rest of the
family.
“So where are you
from, Ms. Munro? I can’t place your accent,” asked Henry.
“You can all call me
Tash. Well except you, missy. I’m still Ms. Munro to you,” I
said, pointing to Boleyn. “I’m from England. A place called
Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. You probably don’t know it. We are pretty much
as far north a city as you can get to before you hit Scotland,” I
informed.
“Newcastle? Right.
So, what brings you to Calgary?”
“Well Ti-, err John,
my roommate and best friend, and I, decided we needed a change, you
know, a chance to travel. We kind of randomly just picked somewhere
to live, and Calgary it was,” I explained, purposely leaving out
the cheating ex, Jane Austen quote, drunken decision-making and the
role Cool Runnings played in the story.
“Wow, just like
that?” remarked Samantha. “I could never do anything so drastic.
I am from Winnipeg, and Calgary is about as far as I’m willing to
go. My mom would kill me if I went too far from home.”
“Yeah the ‘rents
were a bit upset, but in the end they supported it. I just have to
Skype, email and text pretty much every day,” I joked.
“So, no-one special
here or back home?” she enquired.
“Not any more.
Ex-boyfriend in England is now involved with someone else, so I’m
free and single and ready to mingle with the best Calgary has to
offer,” I winked.
“What do you think of
the Canadians, then?” asked Henry.
“Amazing. You lot are
so nice. Well, nearly all of you,” I tipped my head sideways and
pointed my thumb at Tudor, who winced and looked down at the table.
Henry, on the other hand, seemed tickled by my dig.
“Well, most of
us are. Tudor's the exception – all broody and tortured. Just
ignore him, we do,” he waggled his eyebrows whilst Tudor scowled at
him moodily.
Henry continued, “What
about the accent though, no trouble there?”
“Nope. I love the way
you say ‘oot’ and ‘aboot’. You sound kind of Scottish, it’s
funny.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Well, we are all
very happy you have moved here. Newcastle’s loss is Calgary’s
gain,” exclaimed Pamela, smiling alongside a very cheery Boleyn.
“Thanks,” I
answered bashfully.
“So, Pamela, what’s
up with the Tudor Royal names? I love it, but I have never come
across it before,”
“I studied History at
University and that was my favourite period, everything about it
really. So when I had Henry I knew what I would call him. Tudor was a
little more difficult. I didn’t like Edward, and my friend came up
with the idea of using Tudor as a forename and it just stuck. Anne
Boleyn was my favourite of the wives. It probably seems silly to you
being from England, eh?” she asked, seemingly embarrassed.
“Not at all! It’s
my favourite part of our history too, so I’m in love with the
names, it’s super inventive! Plus, Tudor here didn’t have to
create a show name, he was already equipped with one!” I teased and
nudged his arm.
He looked up and sort
of smiled at me... I think , it was either that or wind.
Wow, the icy
exterior is melting.
After telling the table
about my family and the ins and outs of teaching and why
offending little old me,” I lilted, acting upset and fluttering my
eyelids.
Looking at me like he
was aware of my sarcasm but playing along anyway, he replied, “I
admit I may have been a bit of a 'fuck-nut' as you so eloquently put
it. Sorry, I really shouldn't have spoken to you like that,” he
apologised, one side of his mouth curving up in a devastatingly sexy
way.
Trying to ignore the
fact that the temperature in the room seemed to have gone up a
hundred degrees, I jumped down from my stool.
“Well, lead the way, oh dutiful
brother, we can't have your little sister pissed at you, can we?” I
directed with a swing of my arm, earning a shake of the head from a
begrudgingly entertained Tudor North.
Seated at the table
next to Tudor, I fell into easy conversation with the rest of the
family.
“So where are you
from, Ms. Munro? I can’t place your accent,” asked Henry.
“You can all call me
Tash. Well except you, missy. I’m still Ms. Munro to you,” I
said, pointing to Boleyn. “I’m from England. A place called
Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. You probably don’t know it. We are pretty much
as far north a city as you can get to before you hit Scotland,” I
informed.
“Newcastle? Right.
So, what brings you to Calgary?”
“Well Ti-, err John,
my roommate and best friend, and I, decided we needed a change, you
know, a chance to travel. We kind of randomly just picked somewhere
to live, and Calgary it was,” I explained, purposely leaving out
the cheating ex, Jane Austen quote, drunken decision-making and the
role Cool Runnings played in the story.
“Wow, just like
that?” remarked Samantha. “I could never do anything so drastic.
I am from Winnipeg, and Calgary is about as far as I’m willing to
go. My mom would kill me if I went too far from home.”
“Yeah the ‘rents
were a bit upset, but in the end they supported it. I just have to
Skype, email and text pretty much every day,” I joked.
“So, no-one special
here or back home?” she enquired.
“Not any more.
Ex-boyfriend in England is now involved with someone else, so I’m
free and single and ready to mingle with the best Calgary has to
offer,” I winked.
“What do you think of
the Canadians, then?” asked Henry.
“Amazing. You lot are
so nice. Well, nearly all of you,” I tipped my head sideways and
pointed my thumb at Tudor, who winced and looked down at the table.
Henry, on the other hand, seemed tickled by my dig.
“Well, most of
us are. Tudor's the exception – all broody and tortured. Just
ignore him, we do,” he waggled his eyebrows whilst Tudor scowled at
him moodily.
Henry continued, “What
about the accent though, no trouble there?”
“Nope. I love the way
you say ‘oot’ and ‘aboot’. You sound kind of Scottish, it’s
funny.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Well, we are all
very happy you have moved here. Newcastle’s loss is Calgary’s
gain,” exclaimed Pamela, smiling alongside a very cheery Boleyn.
“Thanks,” I
answered bashfully.
“So, Pamela, what’s
up with the Tudor Royal names? I love it, but I have never come
across it before,”
“I studied History at
University and that was my favourite period, everything about it
really. So when I had Henry I knew what I would call him. Tudor was a
little more difficult. I didn’t like Edward, and my friend came up
with the idea of using Tudor as a forename and it just stuck. Anne
Boleyn was my favourite of the wives. It probably seems silly to you
being from England, eh?” she asked, seemingly embarrassed.
“Not at all! It’s
my favourite part of our history too, so I’m in love with the
names, it’s super inventive! Plus, Tudor here didn’t have to
create a show name, he was already equipped with one!” I teased and
nudged his arm.
He looked up and sort
of smiled at me... I think , it was either that or wind.
Wow, the icy
exterior is melting.
After telling the table
about my family and the ins and outs of teaching and why
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