Estera Ch 40 - Jam
Story so far (index post for the whole story inc fanart etc)
(From 34 for the story of whatâs going on right now and this particular day out they are having)
Previous Chapter 39
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There was jam on the tip of Scott Tracy's nose.
Bumblee's Finest whortleberry jam to be precise, although Estera had yet to persuade the man not to refer to it as jelly. She had however informed him that this was a hill on which she was willing to die and thus the war was far, far from over.
The small table between them was a chaotic battleground of crumbs, dollops of clotted cream and sticky ramekins. An industrial sized cafetière loomed over the scene, having been quickly traded for the laughably miniature 'coffee for two' pot.
They'd only been in the cafe forty minutes before the hastily suppressed widening of the waiterâs eyes confirmed Estera's suspicion that the two of them had prompted a sudden behind-the-counter reappraisal of the 'bottomless artisanal tea or coffee' deal that had accompanied the Ultimate Cream Tea for two.
If, in fact, Scott's innocently literal interpretation of unlimited cream and jam refills hadn't already pushed Sidmouth's fanciest cafe to the brink of bankruptcy.
She would leave a good tip.
In any event, the kitchen staff had given up on refilling the perfectly formed little dishes and just sent out the jars, the waitress visibly dissolving into goo at his enthusiastic thanks and apparently too distracted by dimples to notice the dollop of purple decorating his beaming face.
It was right there, how could he not feel it?
Surely he could actually see it?
Estera had to restrain herself from getting out the wet wipes again. There were plenty of brightly coloured napkins on the table and he'd realise in a minute. He wasn't some child that needed looking after. So she had spent the last five minutes at least trying to pretend she hadn't noticed but found herself slightly mesmerised by how the sticky substance caught the light as he moved and highlighted how animated his face became when he got talking about something he found interesting.
The gentleman in question currently appeared to be having an existential crisis at being unable to wholeheartedly commit to a favourite:
"It should be the wild blackberry and apple." He stuck his little finger into the dish in question and studied it with all the intensity of a connoisseur. "It's perfectly balanced and while it doesn't have the kick of the blackcurrant and sloe gin jellyâŚ"
"Jam"
"⌠jelly, it's got this lovely⌠mm⌠" Scott licked his finger then cast his eyes to the ceiling for a moment as if the adjective he was grasping for would be revealed amidst the faux grape vines that were artfully twined between the ancient oak beams "⌠appley flavour".
"That'd be the apple I presume."
The raised pinky of deep contemplation was smoothly replaced with finger guns of approval. Then a good humoured eye roll.
"Which is yours?"
Estera tapped the whortleberry jar without hesitation.
"I can't even give you a good reason, it's just⌠different to anything I had before I came here."
He hummed in agreement. "I'm inclined to agree. Although I do feel kinda guilty for betraying the apple one⌠Gordon would claim I had been body swapped.â
"Ah it's bound to be mostly blackberry." A grin stole across her face "I'm sure the World Confederation of Apple-Based Dessert Artisans and Appreciators will probably let you off with a caution⌠what? Don't tell me that really exists?"
"No⌠well I never heard of one anyhow. I was just thinkin' I should set one up."
The sparkle in his eyes made her laugh, sudden and enthusiastic
"And why not? If anyone could pull it off it'd be you! You could have expert committees for pies and pastries and crumbles."
"And jelly"
"Jam"
"Apple jelly research committee, confirmed. You can chair it."
"I'd lead the Apple Jam Research Committee with pride."
"Jelly. Oh we could give out awardsâŚ"
"Jam. You absolutely could! And you know what else?â
Estera leaned across the table to poke him gently in the shoulder "If you were in charge then you could choose your own Board!"
Scott's eyes shot up to meet the challenge in her own, then softened slightly as he inclined his head and accepted her unsubtle point with a quiet chuckle.
"Imagine that, huh?"
"Yes imagine! You could pick people who were not only experts in their field but who shared your vision and values. The kind of people you trust to challenge you when you need it, who raise complexities you might not have thought of but don't just⌠well⌠donât just block new ideas and make your life difficult because they think someone else might have done it differently. The kind of people who are proud to be working with you. Scott. Right now, in 2062, not some idiots clinging to their ideal of the past⌠people who see you not him. A real team! Because you need a team not a⌠not an examining board! A team like you have with your brothers. You deserve that. More than anyone! And I really do thinkâŚ"
The mild reminder from her lungs that they required regular top ups of oxygen came far too late and Estera flushed with embarrassment as she finally paused for breath and her sense of propriety and self-awareness staggered back on to the scene.
Scott had leaned back in his chair, absently rubbing the tip of his nose with the side of a curled finger. The jam was finally gone but so was the excitable sparkle - replaced instead by a cooler blue, sharper, more analytical.
As if heâd come to some kind of a conclusion and he wasnât sure he liked it.
The skin across her cheeks burned deeper even as her blood ran cold.
Jak ĹmieszâŚ
You dare?
"I'm so sorry⌠it's not my... Really. I know nothing about any of this⌠rude of me to⌠I just thoughtâŚâ
You don't get to think, girl.
The room pitched sideways at the edge of her field of vision and Estera pressed the back of her knee hard into the seat of the chair until it hurt, seeking to ground herself with the pain. Not now. Not now! Change the subject, quickly!
âI⌠uh⌠anywayâŚâ
You donât get to speak.
Bez nudged her leg and whined softly. Scott's scrutiny had shifted to wide eyed concern and he leaned forward again, but not before her body overruled her mind and obeyed the ever-present command:
RUN.
"Excuse me..." with a frantic wave in the direction of the toilets and a sharper but more subtle gesture to Bez to stay put, Estera all but threw herself out of the room.
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Scott had been watching her, appraisingly. Estera was still an enigma in many ways, for all they had talked a lot it was mostly by instant message, or voice only call as she didn't have a holocall enabled device. They hadn't spent a great deal of time in each other's physical company and often there were other people to take account of then too.
So where he felt he had a fairly good grip on the nuances of her tone of voice these days, her visual tells were still novel. He didnât often get the chance to really figure someone out and was enjoying the challenge.
On the surface calm, never unfriendly with people, far from it, but while she spoke warmly there was often a sense that she was⌠guarded. That she didn't want to impose. Occasionally a phrase seemed almost rehearsed - perhaps that might be normal for someone speaking a second language, he wasn't sure. She certainly didn't refrain from giving her opinion from what heâd seen, but she listened and assessed and chose her words carefully. Words which usually seemed hand-picked to encourage and to cheer, even to cheerlead. You can take the teacher out of the classroomâŚ
Heâd started deliberately trying to wind her up to nudge away that mask. To extract the snappy comeback before it met the filter. He was reasonably good at that - years of irritating a genuine response out his more reticent brothers meant the muscle was well trained.
And yet.
Those few times she properly let her guard down and spoke passionately, when her words flooded out uncontrollably about something⌠it was always a surprise.
A tension in her face heâd never have said was there was missing, she blinked more, her jaw moved far more⌠in those brief hesitations where she was searching for the best English equivalent of the word she wanted to use he rather fancied he could see her brain tearing through the linguistic options, before the infinitesimal glint in her eye revealed she'd hit on the very one she wanted.
She fizzed.
And the bubbles were kind of intoxicating⌠he couldn't help but feel they could carry him too.
Right now she was saying nothing John and Virgil hadn't repeated a hundred times before. But somehow it felt new. Because his brothers were supposed to encourage him, they always had. They genuinely believed in him because they loved him which made it difficult for them to see the truth of it. They had never really understood why things were different for him - why it was right they had the choice to be themselves and do things their own way but that he could not.
What none of them seemed to appreciate was that TI wasn't his. At least it wasn't supposed to be. Tracy Industries was Jeff Tracy Industries and while the world had obviously expected that at some distant point the great man might step back a little and let whichever of his offspring had the inclination take the reins, it was never supposed to happen the way it did. Scott had never been handed those reins nor the authority to choose the direction, after all. He just just snatched them up, kept the show on the road and fiddled at rhe edges.
Yes, Scott had expanded TI⌠massively in fact, although mostly, he hoped, in a way his father would have approved of, even if the Board did not. The awful planet-destroying, employee-mistreating companies they'd acquired via hostile takeovers were never going to be balance sheet winners but manoeuvring things such that those factories and labs could have a positive impact on their communities instead, even if under a slightly different name⌠well that made the world a better place and Dad always said that was more important than the moneyâŚ
At least that was what he'd told his teenage son. Maybe he said different to the proper business people at work.
It had been a long long time since he'd been a teenage son though⌠maybe so long that Scott now counted as proper business people too? Estera seemed to assume as much. Maybe the rest of the world might too. The ones who didnât know.
Perhaps it was that simple after all? It was a dangerous thoughtâŚ. That perhaps he could start to believe he even had the right⌠that he could even reverse a few decisions Dad himself had made before he left.
The thought made him shiver.
In any event he suddenly found himself less certain that the dead end he kept pushing his face up against was the only route available to him.
Perhaps⌠perhaps as someone totally independent⌠someone who didnât even know Dad⌠she might be a good sounding board for a couple of the ideas he hadn't dared to allow himself to really flesh out⌠wouldnât hurt to tryâŚ
His train of thought was interrupted by the bubbles collapsing, Estera staring at him in horror like he'd pointed a gun to her chest and leaping to her feet to disappear mid-whispered sentence.
Sometimes a situation changed too fast even for Scott Tracy to keep up.
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"More coffee for the ansum American and the dog lady."
Estera froze as she left the bathroom, torn between being seen and retreating to face the curious elderly lady who had walked in on her trying to fix her wet hair and t-shirt under the unnecessarily aggressive hand dryer.
The shock of cold water had done its job for once but she hadn't had the coordination to be careful. She'd smiled wryly and nodded at the sympathetic "ooh that jam's a devil to get out isn't it dear" but hadn't quite regained control of her voice and thus so firmly declined the offer of assistance, the lady had looked a little offended.
No, no going back but she couldn't possibly walk past the tiny kitchen now, they'd know she'd overheard and that poor waiter would be so embarrassed⌠instead she shuffled sideways to examine the shelf of toys and games the cafe had collected for customers to enjoy. Maybe she and Scott could play something to restrain her from running her mouth again.
"Thatun be the sweetest o' maids but 'ow she catched such a bey as eeâŚ"
Oh no. Please no. Not today.
"âS real cracker. They Americans love an English accent though."
"She's naw even gaht un ye gurt noodle, she be fromâŚ"
"Ah that I did know."
"Tarbul cawtch. Tarbul."
Estera tried to regain her composure by focussing on a mental note to look that one up again. She knew it wasn't the same as the similar-sounding Welsh word but the exact meaning was beyond the reach of her recallâŚ
"She's a dear thing, due a bit of luck."
"Ah tis. An 'er ulkin' dug, ee's a real duck. Our Edith were tellin'âŚ"
The roar of the coffee grinder saved her from revelation of her neighbour's opinion. Grabbing a random pack of cards she strode past and collected her expression into a bright smile as Scott looked up and swiped away whatever he was reading on his wrist comm. More than a hint of concern creased his forehead
"Sorry about that!" She forestalled the question but realised he wouldn't be satisfied unless she added a little grain of truth to make it believable "Just a little⌠dizzy moment, I get them sometimes but it's nothing to worry about."
He raised an eyebrow and she beamed her most convincing smile back at him.
âAre you sure? You looked kindaâŚâ
"Just a⌠a girl thing.â She hoped the guilt that lie reeked of might be interpreted as old fashioned embarrassment. âIâm One hundred percent tickety boo, I promise."
The bait worked at least temporarily
"Tickety⌠come on that one's definitely not real?â
Taking her chair and the last gulp of cold coffee from the mug, she reached down to reassure Bez whose trembling effort at ignoring his instincts in order to obey her stay command was making the floor vibrate. He sniffed at the cardboard box in her hand and she dropped it on the table "Oh I picked this up, thought it might be fun to play a game or something unless you have to head straight back?â
Keeping her eyes locked on Bez for a final few seconds of gathering herself, Estera was pulled from counting down by an amused cackle from her friend.
âBold move, E. Possibly crazy. But bold.â
Belatedly, she dragged her eyes the seemingly infinite distance upwards to behold the jarring typography typical of turn of the century budget game design. Sometimes the universe had a really twisted sense of humour.
Truth or Dare
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Devonshire translation (because given Iâd put them there I couldnât resist a hat tip to the locals - no, the vast majority donât have such a strong accent but enough do)
Thatun be - that one is
Bey - boy
Gurt noodle - silly person
Tarbul cawtch - terrible mess / situation (always been amused this is so close to the Welsh cwtch and yet different in meaning. Sounds quite different spoken though because as most vowels are elongated with a Devon accent that âaâ punches.)
Ulkinâ - big
Dug - dog
Duck - dear / friend / general term of endearment














