This chapter contains details which some readers may find upsetting.

Around 8pm, sometime in January 1986

"Do you feel how firm it is? That's your little brother or sister in there" Monica's hushed voice spoke tenderly.

"Can I have a baby too, mum?" Roshni innocently asked.

Leaning against the wall outside the twins' bedroom door, Freddie listened closely and quietly as her mother chuckled and simply answered, "When you're much older, yes"

It was Johnny and Roshni's bedtime, and so for the past few minutes he had been eavesdropping on them as they were both cuddled up to their mother and pressing their small hands on her bare stomach to feel for their unborn sibling who had been cooking in Monica's womb for almost three months now.

Although Freddie was excited and feeling more prepared for the arrival of the new baby, in the back of his mind he was dreading that day six months into the future when he and Monica were going to be outnumbered by their children. After all, it was beyond him how Deaky and Veronica were able to manage with so many children of their own and he still felt unprepared. What if he repeated the same mistakes that he had on Johnny and Roshni?

"But why can't I have a baby now?" he heard Roshni insisting, obvious disappointment in her tone.

To which their mother continued, "You are not ready yet and neither is your body, love... but at least having a baby brother or sister will help you practice for when you're older, won't it?"

Freddie smiled to himself; oh, how he liked the way in which Monica explained things about the world to them in such a way that they could understand.

She even had an answer for what Johnny asked next, a question which completely caught him off-guard:

"Yeah, boys in my class say that you need boobs to feed a baby anyway, is that true?"

Freddie widened his eyes as Monica teased their son, "Why so surprised? You used to love boob milk"

"No I didn't!" Johnny answered back in disgust.

Freddie could see Monica smirking already as she continued to taunt him, "Oh yes you did! You wouldn't drink from a bottle until you were at least two, don't you remember?!"

"NO!" the boy exclaimed in outrage and embarrassment as his mum and twin sister giggled.

Freddie struggled to hold back his laughter, quietly tiptoeing back down along the corridor before they could hear him....

Mid-March, 1986

Little did Freddie know that that moment in time was going to be the last happy and cherished memory of his family that he'd have ever since.

Several hours later, in the early hours of the morning, he found Monica on the bathroom floor and called Phoebe to ring an ambulance.

But it was too late, she had already miscarried.

Now he was sitting in the back of his Rolls Royce in the late afternoon on his way home from Queen's London-based studio, his notebook of lyric ideas on hand as he tried to forget about the loss yet again.

He didn't care if his handwriting was so wobbly and undistinguishable in the back of a moving vehicle, for Inspiration appeared so suddenly. For the first time in a while Freddie was properly able to creatively express himself and produce new song-writing material, only this time the lyrics collectively came along first in order before he even had the melody chewing at his ear:

How can I go on
From day to day
Who can make me strong in every way
Where can I be safe
Where can I belong
In this great big world of sadness
How can I forget
Those beautiful dreams that we shared
They're lost and they're nowhere to be found
How can I go on?

The words were simple yet more poetic than what he would normally come up with, but he was unsure of whether they would be part of a chorus, a bridge, or just a plain old collection of versus. It would be hard to tell without a tune.

"Oh, I don't know..." He sighed, closing his notebook and deciding to go back to it on a rainy day.

Besides, it was too late to compose and record it into Queen's upcoming album, for Deaky and Brian and Roger were all nearly finished their tracks as well as he. They decided to title it 'A Kind of Magic' in the end, but for Freddie there was nothing magic about it. The whole recording process reminded him of how dismal the past few months had been.

He handed his notebook to Phoebe sitting in the front seat, who asked him, "You done with this?"

To which Freddie sat back into the leather seating and droned, "Can't come up with much else at the moment"

"At least it's good to see the notebook back in use" Phoebe thought, slotting it into his bag of Freddie's belongings.

As for Monica, Mr Freestone was also glad that she seemed noticeably more cheerful in the past weeks since she posted her university applications. And although the wait for the results was anxious, he hoped that the day she chose to tell Freddie the news would go smoothly.

As he zipped it closed, he heard Freddie croon his name behind him, "Phoebe..."

"Yes?" he looked over his shoulder.

Freddie peered out the window, up ahead, "Were you expecting Mary to come by today? Because I certainly wasn't."

The Rolls Royce happened to be pulling into Logan Place at that very moment. Phoebe looked out the front windscreen, noticing his boss's ex-girlfriend and financial advisor Ms Austin standing outside Garden Lodge's front gate. She was wearing a long dark coat and red beret on top of her blonde bob, holding what looked like a few paper documents in her hands, which could only mean business.

"Mary..." Phoebe stepped out of the car, "You didn't call, that's not like you."

"I have your boarding passes for Munich next week. I was walking by and thought I'd drop them off" Mary stoically explained, "The intercom on the wall doesn't seem to be working"

"Maybe Monica's not answering it deliberately to spite me" Freddie thought, stepping out of the car as Phoebe held the door open for him.

Not that he blamed her, of course. The two women didn't see eye to eye in the past.

"I also had the courtesy getting your post sitting at the door," Mary flatly said as Freddie approached her, glancing at the small pile of envelopes in her hands, "Monica will be pleased to know that most of them are for her."

Freddie would've been slightly annoyed at his ex for overstepping such a boundary, hadn't the second part of her sentence confused him so much.

"I beg your pardon?" He frowned at her whilst Phoebe went ahead and unlocked the front gate.

"Well, it is around this time of year that colleges usually start writing back to applicants, isn't it?" Mary straightened the post in her hand before handing it to him.

Still puzzled, Freddie read the first envelope in the pile and saw that it was addressed to Monica, but that it also had a crest stamped in the top left-hand corner that belonged to the University of Westminster.

"Didn't think that she had it in her at all... tell her that I wish her luck." Mary backhandedly commented before turning her back to him.

"Mary, you don't understand!" Freddie called after his ex-girlfriend as she ignored him and quickly strode down the pavement, "There must be some sort of mix-up with someone else..."

But his voice trailed off when the thought occurred as to how the University had gotten hold of Monica's name and his home address in the first place.

As Mary approached the street corner, Freddie frantically started flipping through the rest of Monica's letters. And to his disbelief another envelope had a stamp from The National Film and Television School, and another from the London International Film School...

Inside

"I don't see why you and the two weans can't come over for the Easter holidays, Mo" Patsy Brannigan nagged yet again into Monica's Motorola.

In the background Johnny, who was recently home from school, aggressively chased a frightened Goliath around the Garden Lodge kitchen, trying to grab him by the tail.

"Johnny, stop!" His twin sister followed closely behind and pleaded, "Golly doesn't like you doing that, he's not a toy!"

All the while, and unaware of what was about to happen, Monica was sitting at the kitchen breakfast bar with her mother's voice in her ear, the intercom alarm from the wall in the other, whilst watching the situation in the corner of her eye the whole time.

"You two are supposed to be deciding what you want to see in the cinema!" she scolded them both lightly, to which she was ignored in return.

Dressed in just her oversized colour block jumper and acid wash denim jeans she was munching on nothing but an apple as a quick snack instead of a late lunch, accompanied by a china teacup of black earl grey in her hand. She wished it was alcohol in the cup, but she planned to treat Johnny and Roshni out to the cinema for the evening and knew that her son and daughter wouldn't want to have a tipsy mummy having a drunken snooze in the screening.

Giving up, she returned to the phone, "Give me one good reason why I should come then, mam"

"I mean, you're unemployed now, and they're going to be off school anyway." Her mother disputed.

"But you and dad downsized," Monica tried to reason, sipping her tea, "Won't the house be too cramped with us?"

The truth was that Monica hadn't driven around Ireland on her own outside of Belfast and, despite being well travelled elsewhere, she was worried about getting lost trying to find her parent's house in the countryside.

She hadn't yet received a letter back from any of the universities that she applied for in her head anyway, so she planned to stay in London in the coming months should something need to be discreetly arranged whilst Freddie was away. In the back of her mind, she willed for the problems getting in their way to dissolve when Queen finished the album, for only then she would have time to prepare herself to tell him about it.

"You know, maybe the house will be bursting at the seams with your brother staying over as well, but we can manage and pitch him a tent on the front lawn" her mother joked.

"Wait, the house has a front lawn?"

"Of course, with sea views as well!" her mother bragged.

"I'm already jealous," Monica mused dreamily, "All that we had in Ballysillan growing up was a narrowing strip of grass on a slope"

At this point she was starting to feel more and more convinced that perhaps spending Easter in Ireland was nicer than spending it alone in Garden Lodge with just herself, the twins and the cats after all.

Patsy then slyly asked, "He is not going to be there, is he?"

"No, mam. Freddie's going to Munich to finish recording the new Queen album," she confidently answered, then adding, "but don't pass that onto anybody, there are strict clauses he's under!"

"Good, I mean, typical but good," Patsy scoffed on the other end, "He can send them both Bavarian chocolate easter eggs via first class post then! Mo... Monica, are you even listening to me?!"

But Monica was distracted by Johnny's persisting harassment towards Goliath. She could see that the wide, green-eyed puss clearly wanted to be left alone, and that it was time for her to intervene since Roshni's rescue attempts were failing.

"Excuse me, mammy," she pulled away from the receiver and raised her voice, "Roshni, why don't you say hello to Granny Patsy on the telephone?"

"But mum, he's being mean to him!" the girl pointed at Johnny still tormenting the cat.

"I know he is, leave it to me and talk to granny!" she handed her Motorola to her daughter.

Roshni reluctantly took the phone, and spoke, "Hello granny...... today we were learning about nocturnal wildlife at school," the girl robotically went on, answering Patsy's persistent questions one after the other, "...Yes, I know daddy likes to stay up all night as well."

Monica chuckled quietly and shook her head, thinking bitterly, "Freddie the nocturnal animal...the sad, sad truth"

She probably should've taken the phone back at that moment, but there was a feline that needed her help.

Johnny was tightly grabbing hold of a cat hiding under the table when his mother sternly ordered, "Let go of Golly now!"

Sticking out his bottom lip and glowering his eyes, Johnny released the cat. Goliath hissed at him before scrambling out of the kitchen to safety.

Monica bent down to her son's level in concern, and asked, "Why are you attacking Goliath? He didn't do anything to hurt you, are you learning about witchcraft at school or something?"

It wasn't like Johnny to be so rough to the cats at all, especially when he and his sister had lived with felines for as long as he could remember.

He murmured, "...Dad loves him more than me."

"So Freddie still hasn't apologised to him, even after I advised him to," Monica winced in hurt and disappointment, "He isn't even valuing my time and effort anymore..."

Johnny sullenly continued when she didn't respond right away, "He loves all the cats more than me, even Luke and Leia."

"Well, that isn't true," she lifted her son's chin and kindly explained, "And even if it was true, it doesn't mean that you have to take your anger out on the cat, love. Whether you like it or not that's bullying and animal abuse"

Johnny broke away from her and marched out of the kitchen in a strop, brushing past his father who happened to be standing at the door.

As it always did, Monica's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, much to her own annoyance.

"You're back early, productive day then?" she brought her finger to her lips, pointing to their daughter still on the phone, "I didn't hear you come in. Where's Phoebe?"

For Freddie, it took everything in him at that moment not to erupt in Monica's face at her cheerfulness.

"How dare she have the audacity to hide such big news from me and act so smug!" He clenched his jaws, taking deep breaths in through his nostrils as he tried to retain a blank, unassuming expression that would get her hooked instantly.

"What's that in your hand?" she remarked the letter he was holding as she went to lift her cup of tea from the sideboard.

He held it up in front of him, and began to read it aloud:

"Dear Monica Brannigan..."

His voice was calm and collected, but also loud and clear enough that it caught Monica off-guard and commanded her attention:

"The University of Westminster has received your application and thanks you for considering the School of Arts and Cultures as a choice for your academic future"

And just like that, the cat was out of the bag.

"Oh fuck... fuck, fuck fuck!!" Within a trice, Monica's helpless blue eyes bugged, whilst her mouth started to glob like a goldfish in panic as she struggled to come up with an explanation or excuse.

Freddie carried on reading it using a disdainful tone, "The admissions committee has carefully reviewed your application and with much consideration invites you to attend an interview taking place on a chosen date between the period of the twenty first of April and the first of May, nineteen eighty six."

She should've felt immediate triumph at such news, but her sense of hope and ambitions for the future was now quashed. Not to mention that the look on Freddie's face, as well as the tone in his voice, was so threatening.

Understandably distracted, Roshni innocently complained in the background, "Dad, be quiet! I'm talking to Granny Patsy on the-"

"Shut up!" Freddie barked at his daughter, and her face twisted into anguish.

"Freddie, please don't talk to her like that!" Monica nervously beseeched as Phoebe, who had just gotten in through the back door of the utility room, rushed over to comfort Roshni before she could start to cry.

"I'll talk how I like in my own home!" he snapped back, losing control of his temper by the second.

"Phoebe," she instinctively turned to his assistant, "go help Johnny and Roshni get their coats on"

"What's happening?" Phoebe sensed the tension in the room.

He followed Monica's eye-line as she glanced at the letters on the table, then he saw the terrifying anger and hurt on Freddie's face which made it obvious that, one way or another, a fight was coming.

"Oh Monica, I'm sorry he found out" He wanted to apologise to her out of sympathy, but he knew that things would get messier if Freddie learned that he was helping her to hide her secret as well.

"Just take them to the cinema like I planned," she whispered with more urgency and panic as she gave Phoebe a few bank notes from the pocket of her jeans, "I don't want them to see us dealing with this mess"

He involuntarily took the money from her and lifted Roshni off the stool.

Meanwhile Freddie felt outraged as he watched his own personal assistant follow Monica's orders; he'd never felt more tempted to sack the man and kick him out of the house, although he knew that he might as well save his energy for the person who deserved to feel his wrath for being so disloyal towards him.

"Alright, Johnny! We're going now!" Phoebe called throughout the house in the best singsong voice that he could muster.

Freddie and Monica both listened for their son's footsteps hurrying in the corridor upstairs as he shouted down the staircase, "But mummy was supposed to take us!"

"I've got to go now, mam... something has come up" her voice shook into her Motorola.

"Mo, are you still there?" Patsy was confused on the other end, "Monica? What on earth is-"

She regrettably hung up on her mother, then listened to the confused mutterings of the twins sounded from the corridor as poor Phoebe ushered them both out the door.

At last, she and Freddie both heard the front door shut followed by a painfully unbearable silence with nothing but the clock on the wall, sounding with each tick of anticipation.

Itching for answers, Mr Mercury continued to defiantly stare at Monica sauntering over to the bench and slowly sitting down as her heartbeat started to race.

As she sat there feeling cornered, she began to regret not following Theo's advice or heeding Phoebe's warning even though nothing had transpired yet; she felt as small as a child that was about to get disciplined and humiliated by a teacher at the front of the classroom, a way that she hadn't felt in years.

But Monica wasn't going to give up on her dreams just yet, even if it meant putting up a stand to save what she had worked hard for. So, she might as well get comfortable and brace herself for what was about to happen next:

"Mary collected them in the post when she was dropping off the plane tickets" Freddie explained coolly, setting down the letter that he'd just read aloud in front of her along with the rest of the envelopes that had yet to be opened.

"But of course, she did. That's something she would do" Monica internally rolled her eyes.

She reached over and lifted a few of them to see the inked crests stamps on the envelope, not daring to look at Freddie's face in the process.

Oh, how she wanted to get over the worrying wait for results and read them all, however she knew that Freddie would try to stop her until he had answers. But then again it must've been a positive sign if he hadn't ripped them all up in a fit of rage... yet.

"Please try to understand," she began, putting them back down again, "I just wanted to do something that would help me carry on."

"Carry on from what?" she heard him ask, even though he already knew the answer.

Trusting Freddie's oddly composed demeanour, Monica cautiously admitted, "I-I was unhappy. I didn't feel fulfilled, or satisfied-"

"Unfulfilled? Unfulfilled?!" he repeated across her.

"Yes, I thought that-"

Freddie brashly started to go off on her, "You have a nice house with a nice kitchen in the centre of London, two lovely children, and you have Freddie fucking Mercury to fall in love with and buy you wonderful things and take you to paradise! What else could a woman ever want?!"

"Sexist, much?" his words hurt, but she held her tongue and slowly breathed in and out.

Monica firmly replied, "People who truly love each other are open with one another... they communicate their feelings"

Freddie snatched the letter back off the table and waved it around in her face, "So how does it explain this?!"

"How am I supposed to be open with the man I love if he acts like it never happened?!" she shot up off her seat, feeling things between them escalating.

"What do you mean it?" He watched in bewilderment as Monica trudged away from the table, a move that he considered cowardice, "Act like what happened?!"

And at last, Monica dropped the taboo subject between them, and in the heat of the moment it didn't hurt so much anymore:

"The miscarriage!" She shouted back as she entered the piano room, "You didn't shed a single tear over our lost baby!"

Freddie flinched at the mention of it, but slammed the letter back down onto the table. 

He followed behind her quickly as he emotionlessly defended what was the truth, "I did! I cried very damn day when you weren't there!"

Unconvinced, she put her hands on her hips, "Oh really? When?"

"I cried when I went to the studio sometimes, I cried in the backs of taxis, limousines, first class cabin on an airplane..." Freddie huffed and paced back and forth across the carpet, "I'd cry when you fell asleep, when you took the children to school or their swimming lessons on my days off! I even cried after the ice cream shop incident-"

"What Ice cream shop incident?" Monica interrupted in confusion, her brows knotting together in concern.

"Oh, shit..."

Freddie remembered that he and Phoebe, as well as the twins, promised to keep it a secret between the four of them.

He brushed past her and went to the tall windows, pretending to ignore her as he tried to act fast with answers.

Monica pressed again, "Freddie, what are you talking about?!"

Freddie reluctantly explained, looking out the window with a stony expression, "I had a small outburst in an ice cream shop the morning that you went into hospital"

"In public?" he heard her ask softly.

Freddie nodded, and recollected, "I don't know if you remember, but Phoebe took the twins to the cafe down the road from the hospital to keep their minds off of the baby, and when you fell asleep I-I snuck away and joined them..."

"Then what?" her voice in echoed the tall room.

"Then Johnny and Roshni started arguing over ice cream," he sighed, "I couldn't handle it and nor could Phoebe, you know how I can't discipline them... all I could think of doing was screaming at them both in front of the worker there. So I did, and then I couldn't stop the waterworks from flowing."

He watched over his shoulder as Monica absorbed what she'd just heard, staring deep into space at the coffee table in front of her.

It just seemed too hard for her to envision such a sight, although it made sense. She remembered lying in the private ICU in both severe mental and physical pain, alone with Freddie as he tenderly rubbed her head continuously until she felt weary and her puffy, bloodshot eyes could no longer stay open. That was the only form of emotional support that she had ever received from him after the miscarriage, for he wasn't the same when she had woken up again...

"Anyway, we're getting off-topic and going around in circles!" Freddie was getting increasingly frustrated, "Why didn't you talk to me about this university business sooner?"

"I never had the chance to prepare myself to sit and talk with you," Monica hugged her arms to herself, "You're in Germany one second, Switzerland the next..."

"You know why that is, we have to record in places where taxes are low" he excused.

"I don't know why Anita has to be there all the time either," she griped dully with a shrug as she walked about the room, running her hand along his grand piano, "At every party, every private function... You both seem to get along very well."

"And you might get along with her too if you tried!" Freddie scoffed, trying to dodge the approaching topic of infidelity.

"Wouldn't want to do that, I'd probably be interrupting something between the both of you," she thought bitterly, but said, "When she follows you and the boys around it makes me think something is going on"

"What in God's name are you implying?!" his tone turned aggressive again.

"Oh, come on! You were already unfaithful to Mary," she spat back over her shoulder, "...And you wanted to fuck my own brother on my birthday as well! Who is to say that you won't cheat on me this time, Freddie?!"

Feeling his blood bubbling and boiling dangerously, he suddenly blurted out, "It's not me that Anita has a thing going on with, it's Brian!"

Monica was instantly taken aback.

But the more that she thought about it a few seconds later the more it made sense as to why she barely met Chrissie at Queen-related events anymore, and why she and Brian had been avoiding each other at Live Aid back in July.

It also made her feel a little better knowing that Freddie wasn't the only member of Queen going through a difficult chapter and, in a lot of ways, perhaps what was an even worse one.

"Poor Chrissie," Freddie heard her ponder sympathetically, "Does she know about Anita?"

"I can't even tell you what is going on between her and Brian anymore because I just don't know," he muttered truthfully, hiding his exasperation, "I just didn't tell you about it because I knew you wouldn't react very well"

Monica happened to be fidgeting with her engagement ring on her finger as she listened to him, a possession that was supposed to symbolise his eternal commitment to her.

So, she absentmindedly griped, "But that doesn't explain why you hid away from me"

"BECAUSE I COULDN'T BEAR TO BE ALONE WITH YOU WHEN YOU WERE SUFFERING LIKE THAT!" Freddie suddenly exploded, swinging around to face her, "THERE!! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?!"

Monica jumped where she stood and felt her blood stop running as he stormed back towards her, his face purple and veins popping out of his neck and temples as he tore into her:

"SEEING YOU CRUMBLED UP ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, KNOWING ALL THAT BLOOD IN BETWEEN YOUR LEGS WAS OUR CHILD!" Freddie continued furiously, tears streaming down his red cheeks as he spluttered inches away from her face whilst she cowered away from him, "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE MEMORY OF THAT SIGHT DOES TO ME EVERY DAY, MONICA?! IT'S NEVER EVER OFF MY MIND, NEVER! NOT A DAY GOES BY WHERE IT DOESN'T REOCCUR, AND WHAT'S WORSE IS THAT YOU DON'T EVEN FUCKING CARE!!"

And just like that, his aggravation and heartache that had been pent up for the past few months was alleviated within seconds.

Still speechless, but not so terrified anymore, Monica watched as he sunk to her feet out of nowhere and buried his wet face into her stomach, starting to cry before she even had time to react.

Just then, Sir Laurence Olivier's words from a few weeks before replayed in her mind, "Don't let that man destroy you, otherwise you will destroy yourself"

But the sight of a clearly vulnerable man in front of her was contradicting such advice.

Freddie was on his knees, clinging onto her waist desperately and practically begging for the warmth and love in return from the same woman that he had emotionally neglected for so long as his loud, muffled sobbing echoed the room.

Monica slowly and helplessly started to rake her fingers through his short raven hair in a flimsy attempt to comfort him, biting her lower lip as her own eyes began to sting with the tears of what was a feeling of both heartache and relief.

"I have feelings too," he blubbered, lifting his crumpled-up face from her woolly jumper, "I should be allowed to cry"

"You are allowed to cry," Monica quivered, looking back into his dark eyes that were still red with tears, "I was waiting and wishing for you to cry about it... Why didn't you cry?"

"I don't know," Freddie hesitantly answered, "but I suppose another part of me was waiting for you to open your arms to me"

She fell to the carpet to his level, draping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead against his as he caressed her face with his thumb.

Neither of them had felt this close and intimate in such a long time, and the distance between them didn't feel so big anymore.

"They were always open and waiting for you, but you were too far away in a lot of ways," Monica snivelled, resting her chin on his shoulder as she continued to think out loud, "People often have babies to solve problems... we didn't have any to begin with, and all that the miscarriage did was drive us apart."

She wasn't prepared for what he had to say next:

"Oh baby... I missed you so much" Freddie impulsively cooed into her neck as his fingers felt for her brown hair.

Besotted all over again Monica curled up on his lap and melted into his arms, along with her heart, as they both savoured each other's long awaited embrace.

"Stop, Mo...you have to discuss University with him first ..." the subconscious voice in the back of her mind warned her.

At that juncture Monica felt his wet lips leaving a tingling trail on her jawline as he ravished her, and before she knew it his mouth was on hers.

"I... I missed you, too... but..." she tried to speak during breaks for air.

"You have to know what page Freddie is really on, don't submit to him!"

But it became harder for Monica as the two lovers consumed one another's growing passion with each kiss...

*****

https://youtu.be/14EEGw_sdDQ

KFC, Leicester Square

"Are you two happy?"

Johnny and Roshni, who were sitting across from Phoebe and both gnawing at either a chicken drumstick or battered goujons, both nodded contently at him in response.

Upon Monica's unplanned request he took them both to the Leicester Square Odeon to watch Disney's dark unofficial sequel Return to Oz. The film ended close to dinner time, so a trip to a nearby fast-food restaurant for an early dinner was naturally in order.

He knew that both their parents would tut at the sight of the upstairs restaurant's dinner table littered with empty paper buckets and chicken bones, but he couldn't care less. The whole time that he was sitting in the screening he found it too hard to concentrate on the film, for he was worried about all hell breaking loose at Garden Lodge.

"Did they have a screaming match? Did Monica pack her things and go, or did he rip her head off before she even had the chance?" were the constant questions swimming through his mind.

Phoebe came to love working for this little family and, should the worst of circumstances occur, he wasn't ready to part from Johnny and Roshni yet. In a way they were like nieces and nephews of his own, and their mother was like a sister that he never had.

But what mattered primarily was that the twins didn't suspect a thing going on between their parents:

"So... what did you think of the film?" he asked hopefully.

"I prefer the real Wizard of Oz movie that we watched with dad after we got kicked out of our old school" Roshni answered.

Phoebe held back his chuckle, "And why's that?"

She answered, twiddling the plastic straw in her paper cup of Pepsi, "Because those talking rocks and wheelers are lots scarier than the wicked witch's flying monkeys"

"I thought they were cool," Johnny begged to differ, shuffling excitedly in his seat, "So was the evil woman who switched heads"

"She was frightful too, wasn't she?" Phoebe agreed.

Roshni visibly shuddered, "I wouldn't want her taking my head and keeping it in a glass cupboard!"

"Don't worry, she wouldn't want to have a head with your face on it anyway" Johnny teased maliciously.

"Shut up! Maybe if you got electroshock therapy like Dorothy did then it might make you behave better!" his sister nastily retorted.

"Hey!" Phoebe hissed them both down, and proceeded to scold them, "No fighting and nastiness!"

"But mummy and daddy were about to fight when we left. How come it's okay for them?" Johnny asked.

"What makes you think mummy and daddy are fighting?"

The boy shrugged, "The look on daddy's face"

Phoebe felt the atmosphere growing as cold as the last pieces of fried chicken and leftover French fries still sitting on the table.

"Hey, come on, eat up your chicken!" he changed the subject as he took out the last drumstick from the bucket.

Dumbfounded, Roshni stared at the small collection of bones gathered in front of her, "Chicken?"

"Yes! We need head home soon otherwise your parents will be worried" he explained kindly, thinking to himself, "Well, unless they're too distracted."

But the girl asked on, getting increasingly panic-stricken, "Does chicken come from the same chickens that are also called hens, like-like Dorothy's hen Belina?!"

"Uh oh..." Phoebe froze and stopped chewing, realising the mistake that he just made.

"Yes, silly! Where do you think chicken comes from?" Johnny turned to her.

"Johnny..." Phoebe warned through gritted teeth, for it wasn't helping.

But Johnny ignored him and continued, "And burgers! Burgers come from cows, and bacon comes from pigs-"

"Eat your dinner!" Phoebe ordered more firmly, pointing to the watch on his wrist.

But it was too late for him to try and change Roshni's mind.

Phoebe watched with dread as the little girl widened her eyes in horror, fathoming the fact that she just finished eating what was once a living creature...

*****

Garden Lodge

It was a lustful and heated reunion, but not a reconciliation.

Shortly after they were finished making love underneath the satin floral ivory bedding of their queen-size bed, Freddie was spooning Monica so tightly that she didn't have much space to wriggle and get comfortable; all the while she still thinking about the elephant in the room that was yet to be confronted, but the afterglow felt so nice that she didn't want to ruin it by making him angry all over again.

To her relief Freddie finally unlocked his arms around her after a while and rolled back to his side of the bed, and her she listened for the sound of his bedside drawer opening, followed by the flicker of his cigarette lighter.

Just then, Monica's mouth watered at the thought of her own fixation, "That bottle of Rosé still left in the fridge seems tempting"

Whilst Freddie sat up against the headboard and deeply inhaled his tobacco she sat up and held the duvet up to her bare chest, trying not to seem too conspicuous.

But even a glimpse of her pale, bare body for a split second as she swung her legs around the side of the mattress was enough to whet Freddie's appetite again.

He set his lit cigarette back down onto his crystal bedside ashtray and shuffled closer on his elbows.

"Oh!" startled, Monica shivered as Freddie playfully started kissing the bare skin on her back without warning whilst his hand snaked to the curve if her waist.

"Don't go yet, darling..." he purred, still enamoured.

"I'm thirsty," she managed to let out, squirming slightly as the tickly moustache on his upper lip trailed along her spine and reached the back of her lower neck, "I'm going downstairs to get something to drink"

Freddie knew that she didn't mean a drink of water.

He drew back, slightly dismayed, "Very well... Will you come back upstairs?"

"Don't know, depends on when Phoebe and the twins are coming back," she picked up her discarded underwear that had been ripped off of her and flung across the carpet in a hurry, subtly adding, "Maybe I'll read the letter while I'm down there. And open the other ones as well."

Freddie watched obliquely with disappointment as she lifted her turquoise kimono-like silk bed robe hanging on the mahogany bedpost, too lazy to get dressed properly, before she swiftly strode out of the bedroom and left him feeling as though the moment that they had just shared was meaningless to her.

And whether he liked it or not Monica was still determined to go to university, the reality being a hard pill for him to swallow...

The sun was down, and house was dark throughout when she went downstairs, so she switched only the lamp on in the kitchen.

Fortunately for her, the bottle of zinfandel was still half empty in the inside door of the fridge, and the letter from the University of Westminster and whites of the other envelopes were winking in the dark, waiting for her on the dinner table.

Once Monica poured herself a glass, she leaned against the breakfast bar and started to read where Freddie had left off:

"In advance of the interview, candidates are asked to complete the next stage of their application: Your task is to create and submit a supporting 1.30-3min. long piece of moving image, fictional or non-linear, surrounding a genre or topic of your choice AND/OR you can write a 300–500-word essay or piece of creative writing explaining why you love film and media.

Please write to the above address to confirm that you can attend.

Look forward to seeing you,

The University of Westminster"

Monica pulled a seat out for herself and sat down, not even knowing where to begin.

"What if the other applications tell me to do the same thing?" she pondered, "What do I even make a homemade film about, let alone write about?!"

Amidst her absence of rational thought, she had forgotten that there was a bigger responsibility to consider:

"Monica?"

She looked over to the entrance of the kitchen, where Freddie was standing in the doorway wearing his kimono. His face was solemn, and twinkling brown eyes were like that of a puppy dog.

"If you are going to university after all," He stepped into the low light, "Then what are we going to do about Johnny and Roshni?"

To be continued...