Happy Holidays, onetbls! Part 5
Dec. 16th, 2017 05:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeA Visual Treatise on the Material Remains of Witches in the County of Lancaster
Part 5
It had been an absolute impossibility that Anathema's mother would let her only daughter's television debut go completely unremarked. What had started with Anathema and Newt agreeing to watch it with her had slowly exploded into Anathema, Newt, and most of her mother's friends and extended family watching it together. Newt, in an attempt to make the entire situation more bearable, had invited some of Anathema's friends as well.
It was not making the situation better. Not in the least. Her mother, who since primary school had seen herself as the ultimate arbiter of who should and should not be Anathema's friend, had passed by her not once but twice to inform her that her friends were too serious, and shouldn't a serious girl like her have happy friends? Friends to make her laugh and dance?
Anathema was perfectly happy with her serious friends, thank you Mum. They were respectful and quiet and knew how to have fun without half a lorry's worth of Star Beer and a dozen pre-made appetizer platters, although now that said platters were on offer, she had to admit they had rather colonised the cheese one.
"Okay, so," Newt said, cornering her in the hallway. "It's half six. The episode starts at seven. Do you think we have enough seats? I've pulled all the extra chairs I could find that didn’t require two people to lift them. Do you think Sabrina and Emman and the others will mind sitting on the floor? I can't see your mother letting any of your family sit on the floor."
"She won't let any guest sit on the floor in her house. We'll be sitting on the floor," Anathema told him, exasperated. "You're overthinking it."
"Am I?" he asked, rubbing at the back of his head. Anathema hadn't told him yet, but his hair was starting to thin in that spot, probably from all the rubbing. "Because I remember last New Year's, and that was a fiasco."
Anathema winced. "I haven't forgotten."
Newt nodded vigorously. "We've got to stay on top of things, or else…"
"No, we don't," she told him firmly. "It's her stupid party, she can deal with her own guests. If she wants to blame you for it, I'll… I'll pull the princess card. I'll tell her it's my special day, and how can she ruin things on my special day by insulting my partner?"
"And when she pulls the marriage-and-grandchildren card?" Newt said, reasonably. "What then?"
"I'll… I'll say we're getting married. I'll put out the engagement card."
"You know you can only pull that one once," he pointed out, but he leaned his head in towards her and smiled.
She laughed, and kissed him on the nose. "I know. It's a weapon of last resort. It's too powerful for anything but the most desperate of situations."
"And it comes with a cost, that’s for sure," said Newt. "She'd have the whole thing planned out in a week. She'd probably try and make it a destination wedding in a bog somewhere."
"Stonehenge, more like. She'd bribe English Heritage into letting her do it."
Newt groaned, collapsing onto her shoulder. "You're right. You are horribly, horribly right."
It did settle out alright, in the end. Her mum did try and put them on the floor, digging out embroidered Indian-style floor pillows from some dusty corner. Emman, blessed be her name, intervened and made sure that Anathema and Newt got spots on the new sofa, taking one floor spot for herself and pulling Sam down with her before anyone could change their mind. Her mother checked that the PVR was recording three times before she was satisfied. There was a bit of a kerfuffle when one of her cousins (Rabia, maybe? Or maybe Catalina) started opening a bag of chips just as the TV announced that what was up next was a brand new episode of Time Team, but one of her mother's friends got it all sorted.
There was Tony Robinson, walking around the village of Newchurch-in-Pendle, kitschy witch businesses on display, talking about the Pendle witches and the mystery of their missing tower, promising that they'd investigate.
"And we have just three days to do it," he said. Cue opening credits. She could already feel that her face was hot and red as a beet. Newt squeezed her hand.
The assembled audience was quiet, for the most part. Her mum, on the other sofa next to her sister (Anathema's aunt), was firmly fixed on the screen, keen eyes peeled for any whisper of a glimpse of her daughter. Well, Anathema thought a little more charitably, she was probably interested for Dad's sake as well.
Half the room screamed when the episode got to Anathema's first scene, with Tony Robinson and Belinda the local historian, and her mother yelled at them while trying to turn up the volume with the remote. Her own voice filled up the room then, shockingly loud, and Anathema couldn't look. Her voice sounded nasal, and smug, and what she saw of her face looked awful and blotchy. She sounded like an idiot, not a trained professional.
"This is the worst," she told Newt, embarrassment filling every corner of her body. "I actually hate this."
"It's fine, you're fine," he assured her. "Tony Robinson seems impressed."
"I hate you, too," she told him.
Thankfully she wasn't on screen for another ten or fifteen minutes, because she hadn't shot another scene until the second day. She even managed to sneak out during a commercial break to go breathe slowly in the corridor for a while, staring at the dark, panelled walls and apologising to every member of the Device family she could think of. (She did not apologize to Agnes.)
"Anathema, where are you? Come back in here! You're on the telly!" shouted her aunt, and Anathema collected herself and slunk back into the sitting room. She was indeed on screen; she was showing Tony Robinson graphics explaining the family connections between the Pendle witches. She sounded better here, which was gratifying, given how often they'd made her repeat this part. Maybe it was because she’d had practice, or more likely they’d just edited together all the best bits from each, and now Anathema couldn't remember what was said when.
The rest of the episode was like a non-stop humiliation parade. They'd kept in all the footage of her walking around the sites and talking to people. They even caught her kneeling in the dirt at the one site, which earned a "That's my girl! Feeling the energy of the place!" from her mother that made Anathema sink deep into the sofa cushions. It was awful, really, how mothers could make you feel 14 at the slightest provocation, even when you were a grown woman with a successful independent consulting agency.
The whole thing with the cat in the wall was a welcome respite. During commercials, she was peppered with questions - did it smell? Did they put it in alive? Was it a sacrifice to the Devil? Did they find any roosters? Did they plant it there just so they had something exciting to put on TV? - and answering these was much easier than looking at her own dumb face. (The answers, for the record, were kind of, probably not, no, no, and definitely not, please stop assuming everything is some kind of conspiracy theory.) Even listening to herself talk about the cat was better than before - maybe because Anathema had been more keenly aware at the time that she sounded dumb, so the humiliation was sort of partially digested already.
Finally, after what felt like an age, they played the scene with everyone at site 5, all the locals and crew and everyone. Everyone oohed and ahhed appropriately, and when Anathema talked about feeling connected to the site (oh, how she cringed to hear herself say that), her mum looked practically misty-eyed. Then the closing music played, while they showed shots of the bonfire and everyone at the wrap party, with the conspicuous absence of the roasting sheep, which had been a little unpleasant to look at. Maybe they cut it for ratings reasons, she didn’t know.
And then it was all over, and Newt was hugging her to his side and kissing her hair, and her mother and aunts and cousins were all clapping and cheering.
"You did great," he told her. "You were fantastic. You could be a regular."
"Never again," she vowed, although she couldn't be certain about that, either.
"I'm serious."
She sighed. "I know."
He gave her a squeeze, and stood up. "Come on, let's go greet your adoring fans."
"If I have to," she said, feeling nauseous and hot and in desperate need of a pillow to smother herself with.
"I rather think you do," Newt told her, hauling her up by her arm, and almost directly into the arms of her mother.
"I'm so proud of you, my girl," she said loudly, right in Anathema's ear. "My only daughter! My wonderful girl. You looked so good! You sounded so smart! And they all loved you, I could tell. I can always tell."
"Thanks Mum," Anathema said. "Thanks."
"Why are you thanking me? I am only saying the truth," she said in reply. "Anyone can see."
Anathema extricated herself, but her mother grabbed her by the shoulders. "Anyone! Look around, at all these people. They are here for you! They are all proud of you."
She spun her around, and spoke right in her ear. "Now, go be nice, and listen to them, and answer all of their questions. Charlotte will be jealous but that's fine, she is like that. Her daughter is not worth anything. You are brilliant and smart and good, and next year they will be asking you to have your own show on Channel 4, and Charlotte's daughter will still be worth nothing."
"Er," said Anathema. "Right."
"Now go!" Her mother pushed her out in the crowd.
Newt caught her by the hand and smiled at her. He looked about as overwhelmed as she did.
"Once more unto the breach?" she asked him, darkly.
"Something like that, yeah," he said. "Come on. We'll give them another half hour, and then I'll beg off because I've got work tomorrow."
She snorted. "Like that's a problem."
"They don't know that," he observed. "And as soon as I say it, half of them will remember they're not 21 anymore and they've got kids to pick up from somewhere, or that the sitter charges by the hour, or something. Half your mother's friends are usually in bed by now."
Anathema laughed, and bumped his shoulder. She could always count on Newt to go with her, wherever social or actual nightmare she accidentally dragged him into.
"Yeah, okay," she said. "Let's go."
----
Apologizes to the entire cast and crew of Channel 4's Time Team. I love you with my entire heart, even if archaeologists continue to mystify me, and I wish you were on Netflix. I tried my best to make sure that as few real people as possible were mentioned in this story, but Time Team just can’t be Time Team without the usual cast of characters. For what it’s worth, most of the characters with dialogue are fictional. Except Tony Robinson, who I will probably never be able to look in the eye if I ever by chance meet him.
124 Horseferry Road is a truly absurd building. Please look it up.
I have never been to Newchurch-in-Pendle. Maybe they really are as enthusiastic about witch-themed tourism as I've depicted, maybe not. Crones & Crumpets sadly isn't a real place; the Scone Witch is, but entirely in the wrong country.
Note for Americans: Fried bread is a real food. It's exactly what you think it is, and it's amazing.
The Lower Black Moss Reservoir cottage was actually dug up in 2011 during routine utility company investigations, not during a Time Team investigation at some vague point between 2005 and 2010, which is when this story is set. But it was too good of a find for me to not include! We all know it would have been found earlier if archaeologists could harness the power of psychic researchers.
Part 5
It had been an absolute impossibility that Anathema's mother would let her only daughter's television debut go completely unremarked. What had started with Anathema and Newt agreeing to watch it with her had slowly exploded into Anathema, Newt, and most of her mother's friends and extended family watching it together. Newt, in an attempt to make the entire situation more bearable, had invited some of Anathema's friends as well.
It was not making the situation better. Not in the least. Her mother, who since primary school had seen herself as the ultimate arbiter of who should and should not be Anathema's friend, had passed by her not once but twice to inform her that her friends were too serious, and shouldn't a serious girl like her have happy friends? Friends to make her laugh and dance?
Anathema was perfectly happy with her serious friends, thank you Mum. They were respectful and quiet and knew how to have fun without half a lorry's worth of Star Beer and a dozen pre-made appetizer platters, although now that said platters were on offer, she had to admit they had rather colonised the cheese one.
"Okay, so," Newt said, cornering her in the hallway. "It's half six. The episode starts at seven. Do you think we have enough seats? I've pulled all the extra chairs I could find that didn’t require two people to lift them. Do you think Sabrina and Emman and the others will mind sitting on the floor? I can't see your mother letting any of your family sit on the floor."
"She won't let any guest sit on the floor in her house. We'll be sitting on the floor," Anathema told him, exasperated. "You're overthinking it."
"Am I?" he asked, rubbing at the back of his head. Anathema hadn't told him yet, but his hair was starting to thin in that spot, probably from all the rubbing. "Because I remember last New Year's, and that was a fiasco."
Anathema winced. "I haven't forgotten."
Newt nodded vigorously. "We've got to stay on top of things, or else…"
"No, we don't," she told him firmly. "It's her stupid party, she can deal with her own guests. If she wants to blame you for it, I'll… I'll pull the princess card. I'll tell her it's my special day, and how can she ruin things on my special day by insulting my partner?"
"And when she pulls the marriage-and-grandchildren card?" Newt said, reasonably. "What then?"
"I'll… I'll say we're getting married. I'll put out the engagement card."
"You know you can only pull that one once," he pointed out, but he leaned his head in towards her and smiled.
She laughed, and kissed him on the nose. "I know. It's a weapon of last resort. It's too powerful for anything but the most desperate of situations."
"And it comes with a cost, that’s for sure," said Newt. "She'd have the whole thing planned out in a week. She'd probably try and make it a destination wedding in a bog somewhere."
"Stonehenge, more like. She'd bribe English Heritage into letting her do it."
Newt groaned, collapsing onto her shoulder. "You're right. You are horribly, horribly right."
It did settle out alright, in the end. Her mum did try and put them on the floor, digging out embroidered Indian-style floor pillows from some dusty corner. Emman, blessed be her name, intervened and made sure that Anathema and Newt got spots on the new sofa, taking one floor spot for herself and pulling Sam down with her before anyone could change their mind. Her mother checked that the PVR was recording three times before she was satisfied. There was a bit of a kerfuffle when one of her cousins (Rabia, maybe? Or maybe Catalina) started opening a bag of chips just as the TV announced that what was up next was a brand new episode of Time Team, but one of her mother's friends got it all sorted.
There was Tony Robinson, walking around the village of Newchurch-in-Pendle, kitschy witch businesses on display, talking about the Pendle witches and the mystery of their missing tower, promising that they'd investigate.
"And we have just three days to do it," he said. Cue opening credits. She could already feel that her face was hot and red as a beet. Newt squeezed her hand.
The assembled audience was quiet, for the most part. Her mum, on the other sofa next to her sister (Anathema's aunt), was firmly fixed on the screen, keen eyes peeled for any whisper of a glimpse of her daughter. Well, Anathema thought a little more charitably, she was probably interested for Dad's sake as well.
Half the room screamed when the episode got to Anathema's first scene, with Tony Robinson and Belinda the local historian, and her mother yelled at them while trying to turn up the volume with the remote. Her own voice filled up the room then, shockingly loud, and Anathema couldn't look. Her voice sounded nasal, and smug, and what she saw of her face looked awful and blotchy. She sounded like an idiot, not a trained professional.
"This is the worst," she told Newt, embarrassment filling every corner of her body. "I actually hate this."
"It's fine, you're fine," he assured her. "Tony Robinson seems impressed."
"I hate you, too," she told him.
Thankfully she wasn't on screen for another ten or fifteen minutes, because she hadn't shot another scene until the second day. She even managed to sneak out during a commercial break to go breathe slowly in the corridor for a while, staring at the dark, panelled walls and apologising to every member of the Device family she could think of. (She did not apologize to Agnes.)
"Anathema, where are you? Come back in here! You're on the telly!" shouted her aunt, and Anathema collected herself and slunk back into the sitting room. She was indeed on screen; she was showing Tony Robinson graphics explaining the family connections between the Pendle witches. She sounded better here, which was gratifying, given how often they'd made her repeat this part. Maybe it was because she’d had practice, or more likely they’d just edited together all the best bits from each, and now Anathema couldn't remember what was said when.
The rest of the episode was like a non-stop humiliation parade. They'd kept in all the footage of her walking around the sites and talking to people. They even caught her kneeling in the dirt at the one site, which earned a "That's my girl! Feeling the energy of the place!" from her mother that made Anathema sink deep into the sofa cushions. It was awful, really, how mothers could make you feel 14 at the slightest provocation, even when you were a grown woman with a successful independent consulting agency.
The whole thing with the cat in the wall was a welcome respite. During commercials, she was peppered with questions - did it smell? Did they put it in alive? Was it a sacrifice to the Devil? Did they find any roosters? Did they plant it there just so they had something exciting to put on TV? - and answering these was much easier than looking at her own dumb face. (The answers, for the record, were kind of, probably not, no, no, and definitely not, please stop assuming everything is some kind of conspiracy theory.) Even listening to herself talk about the cat was better than before - maybe because Anathema had been more keenly aware at the time that she sounded dumb, so the humiliation was sort of partially digested already.
Finally, after what felt like an age, they played the scene with everyone at site 5, all the locals and crew and everyone. Everyone oohed and ahhed appropriately, and when Anathema talked about feeling connected to the site (oh, how she cringed to hear herself say that), her mum looked practically misty-eyed. Then the closing music played, while they showed shots of the bonfire and everyone at the wrap party, with the conspicuous absence of the roasting sheep, which had been a little unpleasant to look at. Maybe they cut it for ratings reasons, she didn’t know.
And then it was all over, and Newt was hugging her to his side and kissing her hair, and her mother and aunts and cousins were all clapping and cheering.
"You did great," he told her. "You were fantastic. You could be a regular."
"Never again," she vowed, although she couldn't be certain about that, either.
"I'm serious."
She sighed. "I know."
He gave her a squeeze, and stood up. "Come on, let's go greet your adoring fans."
"If I have to," she said, feeling nauseous and hot and in desperate need of a pillow to smother herself with.
"I rather think you do," Newt told her, hauling her up by her arm, and almost directly into the arms of her mother.
"I'm so proud of you, my girl," she said loudly, right in Anathema's ear. "My only daughter! My wonderful girl. You looked so good! You sounded so smart! And they all loved you, I could tell. I can always tell."
"Thanks Mum," Anathema said. "Thanks."
"Why are you thanking me? I am only saying the truth," she said in reply. "Anyone can see."
Anathema extricated herself, but her mother grabbed her by the shoulders. "Anyone! Look around, at all these people. They are here for you! They are all proud of you."
She spun her around, and spoke right in her ear. "Now, go be nice, and listen to them, and answer all of their questions. Charlotte will be jealous but that's fine, she is like that. Her daughter is not worth anything. You are brilliant and smart and good, and next year they will be asking you to have your own show on Channel 4, and Charlotte's daughter will still be worth nothing."
"Er," said Anathema. "Right."
"Now go!" Her mother pushed her out in the crowd.
Newt caught her by the hand and smiled at her. He looked about as overwhelmed as she did.
"Once more unto the breach?" she asked him, darkly.
"Something like that, yeah," he said. "Come on. We'll give them another half hour, and then I'll beg off because I've got work tomorrow."
She snorted. "Like that's a problem."
"They don't know that," he observed. "And as soon as I say it, half of them will remember they're not 21 anymore and they've got kids to pick up from somewhere, or that the sitter charges by the hour, or something. Half your mother's friends are usually in bed by now."
Anathema laughed, and bumped his shoulder. She could always count on Newt to go with her, wherever social or actual nightmare she accidentally dragged him into.
"Yeah, okay," she said. "Let's go."
----
Apologizes to the entire cast and crew of Channel 4's Time Team. I love you with my entire heart, even if archaeologists continue to mystify me, and I wish you were on Netflix. I tried my best to make sure that as few real people as possible were mentioned in this story, but Time Team just can’t be Time Team without the usual cast of characters. For what it’s worth, most of the characters with dialogue are fictional. Except Tony Robinson, who I will probably never be able to look in the eye if I ever by chance meet him.
124 Horseferry Road is a truly absurd building. Please look it up.
I have never been to Newchurch-in-Pendle. Maybe they really are as enthusiastic about witch-themed tourism as I've depicted, maybe not. Crones & Crumpets sadly isn't a real place; the Scone Witch is, but entirely in the wrong country.
Note for Americans: Fried bread is a real food. It's exactly what you think it is, and it's amazing.
The Lower Black Moss Reservoir cottage was actually dug up in 2011 during routine utility company investigations, not during a Time Team investigation at some vague point between 2005 and 2010, which is when this story is set. But it was too good of a find for me to not include! We all know it would have been found earlier if archaeologists could harness the power of psychic researchers.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-16 07:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-17 05:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-17 06:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-19 02:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-19 06:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-20 01:17 am (UTC)This is one of the most unique gomens fics I've ever read! Thanks so much for sharing!! I enjoyed it a lot! Anathema seemed really in-character snd in her element. Even if she was embarrassed to see herself on TV!
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-21 03:25 am (UTC)Newt and Anathema are so sweet and adorable together :)
This was really interesting! Both from learning about history and archaeology, and learning about the show Time Team itself (I'm American. I also looked up that building. I kind of like it, haha).
(no subject)
Date: 2017-12-25 12:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-03 07:27 pm (UTC)Loved the simple day-to-day happenings (because science is amazing, but getting to the truly amazing parts can be like that), and the witch-obsessed town. My brief experience with the country says that it would totally be possible. I wouldn't put agreeing on witch-themed shops (and all the puns) entirely past the residents, either.
Also, I'm so glad we got to see the Devices as such a big, dynamic family, both in history and in the present. It's hilarious to try to imagine how they would react if Anathema was indeed going to end up becoming a regular or get her own show :D
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-04 10:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-06 12:52 pm (UTC)