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In June, London was already in the midst of summer, with mostly cloudy skies occasionally brightened by bursts of sunshine. The intermittent drizzles added a certain charm, not as dreadful as the little girl had described.
"I only meant most of the time, not all the time," Angela, who had regained her calmness despite the dark circles under her eyes, replied to Jessica's inquiry.
Even though they had woken up in the afternoon, it was still the weekend, and many people were out and about, exploring London during their free time, including Jessica.
"Don't worry, Jessica. Before I become your tour guide, I need to make a phone call," Angela said, taking a few coins from Mr. Sparrow and heading towards a red telephone booth on the side of the street.
After dialing the number, the call connected quickly, and a tired and hoarse female voice answered, asking, "Who is this?"
Angela, pretending not to recognize the voice, let out a sharp laugh and said, "Oh, my dear little one, I'm about to..."
Before she could finish her sentence, she heard the click of the receiver being hung up. Angela stood there with her mouth slightly open, momentarily stunned, before realizing that the call had abruptly ended, indicated by the busy tone in her ear.
"What's going on? Did I say something wrong?" the little girl scratched her head in frustration, looking at the receiver.
She immediately inserted another coin and dialed the number again, this time without any strange voice. As soon as the call connected, she couldn't contain her curiosity and asked, "Hey, Kate, what's wrong?"
After a moment of hesitation, the tired and hoarse voice on the other end asked, "Who... is this?"
Damn, she doesn't even recognize my voice. What has happened? Angela furrowed her brow and said, "Kate, it's me, Angela. What's going on?"
"Ang... Angela? Oh, I'm fine... nothing's wrong... don't worry about me..." the woman's voice responded intermittently before hanging up the phone once again.
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The little girl looked at the receiver in astonishment once more. What on earth could have happened?
"Jessica, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can go shopping with you," Angela apologized as she stepped out of the telephone booth.
"What's wrong, Angela?" Jessica asked.
Angela sighed and said, "I have a friend who seems to be in trouble. I need to go see her alone. I'm worried."
Jessica remained silent, and Angela knew exactly what she was thinking.
In London, there were only a few scenes where the twins appeared together, and those scenes had been filmed first. Once the shooting was completed, Jessica would have to return to Los Angeles, which meant that they wouldn't be able to go shopping together in London for a long time.
"Jessica, I'm really sorry. Let Aunt Jennifer accompany you. We'll have another chance," Angela apologized as she hugged Jessica sincerely.
"Okay, busy lady, keep your word," Jessica sighed understandingly, returning the hug. "Take care on your way."
Angela giggled and playfully pinched Jessica's nose. Suddenly, she remembered the earlier incident in the morning, causing her face to blush slightly. She quickly turned to Aunt Jennifer and said, "Aunt Jennifer, I'm entrusting Jessica to you. Please take good care of her. Otherwise, when I return to Los Angeles, Mr. Alba will have my head."
"Alright, little one, I understand," Jennifer replied with a smile, her eyes conveying a different message: Where are you going?
Angela gently shook her head and placed her index finger on her lips, pretending to have a stern expression. At the same time, she made a cutting gesture across her neck. The housekeeper shrugged her shoulders and turned away as if she hadn't seen anything.
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At that moment, Sparrow hailed a taxi. Angela waved goodbye to the two of them and got into the car with her manager.
"Please take us to 47 Raveley Street," Angela requested.
"Sure, please make yourself comfortable," the driver, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, responded. Although he agreed verbally, his eyes glanced at Sparrow sitting in the passenger seat.
"As quickly as possible," Sparrow nodded.
The taxi maneuvered through the streets and alleys. The driver displayed his experience and familiarity with the city's layout. Despite weaving through various small lanes, they arrived at their destination swiftly, with only a slight delay when crossing London Bridge. It could have been even faster.
"Thank you," Angela exited the car and looked up at the apartment building beside her. She had been here when Kate left her family, and she had some vague memories, but she needed to recall them carefully.
"Don't you remember?" Mr. Sparrow, who had paid the fare, approached her from behind.
"Oh, it's not that. It's just..." Angela pondered for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "It's just that I want to go up alone, Uncle Sparrow. I'm afraid you'll have to wait here for a while, maybe even a long time."
"That's alright. I can go to a café and have a cup of coffee. It's my pleasure to serve you," Mr. Sparrow said cheerfully, showcasing his competence as a manager.
"Thank you, Uncle Sparrow," Angela said happily, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen from her backpack. She quickly wrote down a series of numbers and handed it to him. "If anything happens, call this number. You can reach me as long as I'm at her place."
"Alright," Sparrow took a look and added, "But if you guys go out..."
Looking up, the young lady had already disappeared. Mr. Sparrow shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "Such an impatient young lady." He then began his search for a coffee shop.
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Angela hurriedly arrived on the third floor. She recalled that it should be here. She looked around and finally confirmed that it was on the right side. She quickly crossed to the front of the door and rang the doorbell.
Ding dong, the doorbell rang for a while, but no one answered the door. Angela furrowed her brow, rang the doorbell again, but still received no response. Frustrated, the determined girl pressed her finger on the doorbell and held it down.
Amidst the continuous ringing, the tightly closed door was finally opened, followed by a gruff voice shouting, "Can't you all let me have some peace?!"
Startled, the little girl couldn't find her words before the woman in front of her startled her again. She was an 18-year-old girl, wearing only a pair of white shorts that exposed her long legs. Her upper body was covered by a loose black T-shirt with some patterns printed on the chest. Although it was oversized, her beautiful figure could still be vaguely seen. She had delicate features, embodying both the characteristics of a Caucasian woman and the grace of an Eastern woman. However, her face was pale, and her short hair resembled a bird's nest, tarnishing her natural beauty.
"You're... Angela?" The young woman calmed down when she saw the little girl at the door. She then covered her forehead and gazed at her for a while before hesitantly asking.
Angela sighed but didn't say anything. She walked straight into the house. As soon as she entered, a pungent smell hit her, causing her to cover her mouth and nose. The room was dimly lit, with all the curtains drawn, as if the owner of the house disliked daylight.
"How... did you come back to London?" The young woman closed the door and sluggishly made her way to the sofa, sinking into it.
Angela took a step back, about to answer, when suddenly there was a clattering sound at her feet, as if she had kicked something. She squinted and looked down, gradually adjusting to the dim light in the room, and once again became startled. There were cans scattered all over the floor. She picked one up and examined it closely—it was a beer can. There were at least dozens of them strewn about. My goodness, how long had she been living like this?!
Bang! The woman opened another can of beer, tilted her head back, and took a swig. Angela became furious. She didn't know the exact circumstances, but she couldn't tolerate the woman's self-destruction.
Angela immediately stepped forward and snatched the beer can from her hand. The woman initially gazed around blankly, then furrowed her brow and tried to retrieve it. However, the determined little girl casually tossed the beer can aside and went to the window, swiftly pulling open the curtains.
The woman, who still wanted to retrieve her beer, couldn't stand the sudden influx of light. She quickly raised her hand to shield her face and angrily shouted, "What are you doing?!"
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However, Angela didn't respond at all. With a stern expression on her face, she proceeded to open the curtains of all the windows one by one, revealing the entire room in the bright light. It was messy and dirty, filled with garbage. It seemed like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time. It was simply a pigsty!
Angela was extremely angry. She couldn't believe she had let herself deteriorate to this extent. Even when she was a shut-in in her past life, she never let her house get this dirty.
At that moment, whoosh, the young woman started closing the curtains again. The furious little girl immediately rushed forward and forcefully pushed her away, shouting, "What's wrong with you?! Look at yourself now, you're worse than the beggars on the street. Do you want everyone to see you like this? Do you think everyone owes you something?!"
"Get out of my way! I don't need a little brat like you to meddle in!" The woman yelled angrily at her.
"Look at yourself, your self-care skills are even worse than mine, a little brat. Don't you feel ashamed?!" The little one retorted without backing down. If familiar people saw her, who was known for her good manners, in her current state, her reputation would be irreparably damaged.
"What the hell! This is my own business. What's it to you? Who do you think you are to interfere with me?" The woman was almost hysterical, seemingly eager to slap the little girl.
"Because I'm your sister! I regard you as my older sister! Okay!" Angela stood her ground, staring at her. She wasn't afraid of her. They had argued a lot when she helped her quit smoking and treated her neurotic anorexia.
Upon hearing this, the woman froze, and her hand, which she had intended to raise, fell limp. She stared blankly at the little girl, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly, with a sob, she fiercely kicked the beer can, and with a wailing voice, she angrily pushed all the clutter around her onto the floor as if having a tantrum. Finally, she sat down against the sofa, buried her head between her legs, and burst into loud sobs.
Angela sighed, took off her travel bag and threw it aside, then walked over to the woman, knelt down beside her, and embraced her head in her arms, gently comforting her.
"Okay, Kate, tell me what happened," the little girl said softly.
The woman in her embrace sobbed, "Angie, my father... my father passed away."
The little girl couldn't help but be shocked, "Mr. Beckinsale passed away?!"
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In June, London was already in the midst of summer, with mostly cloudy skies occasionally brightened by bursts of sunshine. The intermittent drizzles added a certain charm, not as dreadful as the little girl had described.
"I only meant most of the time, not all the time," Angela, who had regained her calmness despite the dark circles under her eyes, replied to Jessica's inquiry.
Even though they had woken up in the afternoon, it was still the weekend, and many people were out and about, exploring London during their free time, including Jessica.
"Don't worry, Jessica. Before I become your tour guide, I need to make a phone call," Angela said, taking a few coins from Mr. Sparrow and heading towards a red telephone booth on the side of the street.
After dialing the number, the call connected quickly, and a tired and hoarse female voice answered, asking, "Who is this?"
Angela, pretending not to recognize the voice, let out a sharp laugh and said, "Oh, my dear little one, I'm about to..."
Before she could finish her sentence, she heard the click of the receiver being hung up. Angela stood there with her mouth slightly open, momentarily stunned, before realizing that the call had abruptly ended, indicated by the busy tone in her ear.
"What's going on? Did I say something wrong?" the little girl scratched her head in frustration, looking at the receiver.
She immediately inserted another coin and dialed the number again, this time without any strange voice. As soon as the call connected, she couldn't contain her curiosity and asked, "Hey, Kate, what's wrong?"
After a moment of hesitation, the tired and hoarse voice on the other end asked, "Who... is this?"
Damn, she doesn't even recognize my voice. What has happened? Angela furrowed her brow and said, "Kate, it's me, Angela. What's going on?"
"Ang... Angela? Oh, I'm fine... nothing's wrong... don't worry about me..." the woman's voice responded intermittently before hanging up the phone once again.
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The little girl looked at the receiver in astonishment once more. What on earth could have happened?
"Jessica, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can go shopping with you," Angela apologized as she stepped out of the telephone booth.
"What's wrong, Angela?" Jessica asked.
Angela sighed and said, "I have a friend who seems to be in trouble. I need to go see her alone. I'm worried."
Jessica remained silent, and Angela knew exactly what she was thinking.
In London, there were only a few scenes where the twins appeared together, and those scenes had been filmed first. Once the shooting was completed, Jessica would have to return to Los Angeles, which meant that they wouldn't be able to go shopping together in London for a long time.
"Jessica, I'm really sorry. Let Aunt Jennifer accompany you. We'll have another chance," Angela apologized as she hugged Jessica sincerely.
"Okay, busy lady, keep your word," Jessica sighed understandingly, returning the hug. "Take care on your way."
Angela giggled and playfully pinched Jessica's nose. Suddenly, she remembered the earlier incident in the morning, causing her face to blush slightly. She quickly turned to Aunt Jennifer and said, "Aunt Jennifer, I'm entrusting Jessica to you. Please take good care of her. Otherwise, when I return to Los Angeles, Mr. Alba will have my head."
"Alright, little one, I understand," Jennifer replied with a smile, her eyes conveying a different message: Where are you going?
Angela gently shook her head and placed her index finger on her lips, pretending to have a stern expression. At the same time, she made a cutting gesture across her neck. The housekeeper shrugged her shoulders and turned away as if she hadn't seen anything.
Sponsored Content
At that moment, Sparrow hailed a taxi. Angela waved goodbye to the two of them and got into the car with her manager.
"Please take us to 47 Raveley Street," Angela requested.
"Sure, please make yourself comfortable," the driver, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, responded. Although he agreed verbally, his eyes glanced at Sparrow sitting in the passenger seat.
"As quickly as possible," Sparrow nodded.
The taxi maneuvered through the streets and alleys. The driver displayed his experience and familiarity with the city's layout. Despite weaving through various small lanes, they arrived at their destination swiftly, with only a slight delay when crossing London Bridge. It could have been even faster.
"Thank you," Angela exited the car and looked up at the apartment building beside her. She had been here when Kate left her family, and she had some vague memories, but she needed to recall them carefully.
"Don't you remember?" Mr. Sparrow, who had paid the fare, approached her from behind.
"Oh, it's not that. It's just..." Angela pondered for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "It's just that I want to go up alone, Uncle Sparrow. I'm afraid you'll have to wait here for a while, maybe even a long time."
"That's alright. I can go to a café and have a cup of coffee. It's my pleasure to serve you," Mr. Sparrow said cheerfully, showcasing his competence as a manager.
"Thank you, Uncle Sparrow," Angela said happily, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen from her backpack. She quickly wrote down a series of numbers and handed it to him. "If anything happens, call this number. You can reach me as long as I'm at her place."
"Alright," Sparrow took a look and added, "But if you guys go out..."
Looking up, the young lady had already disappeared. Mr. Sparrow shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "Such an impatient young lady." He then began his search for a coffee shop.
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Angela hurriedly arrived on the third floor. She recalled that it should be here. She looked around and finally confirmed that it was on the right side. She quickly crossed to the front of the door and rang the doorbell.
Ding dong, the doorbell rang for a while, but no one answered the door. Angela furrowed her brow, rang the doorbell again, but still received no response. Frustrated, the determined girl pressed her finger on the doorbell and held it down.
Amidst the continuous ringing, the tightly closed door was finally opened, followed by a gruff voice shouting, "Can't you all let me have some peace?!"
Startled, the little girl couldn't find her words before the woman in front of her startled her again. She was an 18-year-old girl, wearing only a pair of white shorts that exposed her long legs. Her upper body was covered by a loose black T-shirt with some patterns printed on the chest. Although it was oversized, her beautiful figure could still be vaguely seen. She had delicate features, embodying both the characteristics of a Caucasian woman and the grace of an Eastern woman. However, her face was pale, and her short hair resembled a bird's nest, tarnishing her natural beauty.
"You're... Angela?" The young woman calmed down when she saw the little girl at the door. She then covered her forehead and gazed at her for a while before hesitantly asking.
Angela sighed but didn't say anything. She walked straight into the house. As soon as she entered, a pungent smell hit her, causing her to cover her mouth and nose. The room was dimly lit, with all the curtains drawn, as if the owner of the house disliked daylight.
"How... did you come back to London?" The young woman closed the door and sluggishly made her way to the sofa, sinking into it.
Angela took a step back, about to answer, when suddenly there was a clattering sound at her feet, as if she had kicked something. She squinted and looked down, gradually adjusting to the dim light in the room, and once again became startled. There were cans scattered all over the floor. She picked one up and examined it closely—it was a beer can. There were at least dozens of them strewn about. My goodness, how long had she been living like this?!
Bang! The woman opened another can of beer, tilted her head back, and took a swig. Angela became furious. She didn't know the exact circumstances, but she couldn't tolerate the woman's self-destruction.
Angela immediately stepped forward and snatched the beer can from her hand. The woman initially gazed around blankly, then furrowed her brow and tried to retrieve it. However, the determined little girl casually tossed the beer can aside and went to the window, swiftly pulling open the curtains.
The woman, who still wanted to retrieve her beer, couldn't stand the sudden influx of light. She quickly raised her hand to shield her face and angrily shouted, "What are you doing?!"
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However, Angela didn't respond at all. With a stern expression on her face, she proceeded to open the curtains of all the windows one by one, revealing the entire room in the bright light. It was messy and dirty, filled with garbage. It seemed like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time. It was simply a pigsty!
Angela was extremely angry. She couldn't believe she had let herself deteriorate to this extent. Even when she was a shut-in in her past life, she never let her house get this dirty.
At that moment, whoosh, the young woman started closing the curtains again. The furious little girl immediately rushed forward and forcefully pushed her away, shouting, "What's wrong with you?! Look at yourself now, you're worse than the beggars on the street. Do you want everyone to see you like this? Do you think everyone owes you something?!"
"Get out of my way! I don't need a little brat like you to meddle in!" The woman yelled angrily at her.
"Look at yourself, your self-care skills are even worse than mine, a little brat. Don't you feel ashamed?!" The little one retorted without backing down. If familiar people saw her, who was known for her good manners, in her current state, her reputation would be irreparably damaged.
"What the hell! This is my own business. What's it to you? Who do you think you are to interfere with me?" The woman was almost hysterical, seemingly eager to slap the little girl.
"Because I'm your sister! I regard you as my older sister! Okay!" Angela stood her ground, staring at her. She wasn't afraid of her. They had argued a lot when she helped her quit smoking and treated her neurotic anorexia.
Upon hearing this, the woman froze, and her hand, which she had intended to raise, fell limp. She stared blankly at the little girl, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly, with a sob, she fiercely kicked the beer can, and with a wailing voice, she angrily pushed all the clutter around her onto the floor as if having a tantrum. Finally, she sat down against the sofa, buried her head between her legs, and burst into loud sobs.
Angela sighed, took off her travel bag and threw it aside, then walked over to the woman, knelt down beside her, and embraced her head in her arms, gently comforting her.
"Okay, Kate, tell me what happened," the little girl said softly.
The woman in her embrace sobbed, "Angie, my father... my father passed away."
The little girl couldn't help but be shocked, "Mr. Beckinsale passed away?!"
