Nano, Nov 20-25
“You're telling me to act natural, aren't you? Nothing thwarts genuine casualness like telling someone to act natural.” I struggle to think of a topic of conversation I can comfortably maintain.
“Tell me about how you made it to university; you can't be that much older than me?” She beckons me to follow her out of the room.
I try and remember to stay calm. “I'm twenty seven; twenty eight in February.”
“So you'd have been...” I watch her work her way through the maths. “Eighteen when it happened? The big reset?”
“Yes; eighteen and eleven months and four days. Something like that.” I grin, mocking myself for my own precision.
“I'd started studying, and was home for the Christmas holiday. I didn't even notice the change... I came back and found myself remembering things, and just assumed it had clicked. And if I was good at guessing what someone was feeling, well, I'd not exactly been insensitive before it happened... I honestly didn't know I had Abilities until I scored consistently well on all the exams and one of the teaching assistants suggested the possibility.”
“You're lucky. I was sixteen... I was at college, but that ended pretty quickly. My Ability was never all that subtle. Before the holiday had even finished the energy manipulation had made itself known...”
“What happened?”
“My... my mother and I lived alone. There were people who thought that they could take advantage of the fact. The landlord preyed on her, pushing the rent up as much as he could and then suggesting 'alternative arrangements', never being there when there were actually problems it was his responsibility to fix but... He turned up on the second of January. He said that now the holiday was over, there were financial issues to arrange. I looked at him, and suddenly I could see exactly what it was he wanted from my mother... I flipped out. Shoved him backwards out of the door with a wall of air, pinned him against the house opposite, and found myself holding a fair sized ball of fire... I was as terrified as he was.”
She looks very sad, and very distant. “When all of the registers started, it was good, in its own way... it made me feel like less of a freak... He kicked us out of the house. The landlord; he claimed that it was too much of a risk. He pretended he meant me and the fire, but he meant bothering my mother... he didn't like the fact she wasn't easy picking any more. When Hero-Choice offered me a job, with the money they were talking about... it meant my mother would never be vulnerable again. So I said yes. I signed whatever contracts they put in front of me, because I knew it was what I needed to do to keep her safe.”
I try to work out what to say; I can tell that there's more than what she's saying, but it doesn't feel safe to pry.
“Did she... did it work?”
“It did; better than the original plan of going to university. I couldn't stay at home with her, but I could make sure she was in a good house, with no one holding anything over her. I could do that much at least.”
“How did she... what happened?” I worry that she will take my asking the wrong way, but I get the feeling she wants to keep talking about it.
“Cancer; something I couldn't fight, couldn't defend her from. It started suddenly, and it burned through her so quickly the doctors couldn't do anything when it was diagnosed, but make her comfortable. That was the most time I ever took off as Justita, my first request for leave in the three years I had worked for them... and I realised that management resented me for it... and that's when I started to worry that they weren't always the black and white good guys.
A blast of cold air hits my face, and I realise we're outside. I hadn't even noticed going down the stairs.
“And there we go; we're out.” Cassie grins at me, a wobbly lopsided smile. “There's something about the conversation at least; no one was going to stop us when they heard what we were talking about.”
“That's not the only reason you let me ask about it, is it?” I ask, worried.
“No, that's not it... but, would you mind if we...”
“No, not at all.” I hasten to add. “Thank you for... well, for...”
“That's okay.” She smiles at me, a little more relaxed, a little less shakey. “Come on... I want to get home, and get the evening of relaxing started.
-x-
The doorbell rings, and Cassie pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Would you get that? It'll be Abbie.”
I try and encourage the kittens off of my lap, but they just look at me with that very cat “what do you want?” look.
“If you don't move, you're going to fall off when I stand up.” I warn them. Astra yawns, and steps off to one side. Nemi sits tight, daring me.
I stand up. Nemi clings on, her claws hooked into my jeans.
“Nemi, what am I going to do with you.” I scold, untangling her before walking across to the door. I pull the door open to see Abbie, leaning on the wall across the corridor, eyes closed; she looks exhausted.
“I'm sorry Abbie... I had kitten issues.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes fly open. “Hi Theresa... do you think Cassie will kill me if I fall asleep at the table?”
“No, not unless you fall asleep in the mousse... she spent a lot of time on the mousse. It's chocolate, with vanilla, and cinnamon... and other things. I escaped from the kitchen at that point; it seemed safer.”
“I heard that!” Cassie calls out. “Now let Abbie in and sit down... it's late enough as it is.”
I step back, holding the door open, and she stumbled through, homing in on the sofa. “Just going to sit down for a moment, and then I'll move to the table...”
“No need.” Cassie comes out, carrying trays. “You can curl up on the sofa and eat. It's a lamb stew; I can arm you with some bread and a spoon.”
“Theresa says you've made mousse...I forgot to bring dessert!” Abbie groans, and rubs at her eyes. “I'm sorry Cassie!”
“It's not a problem Abbie... I wanted to try this recipe anyway. It's meant to be good for Christmas.” Cassie studies Abbie for a moment, silently passing her the tray. I can see Cassie slowing calculating something. “How are you feeling?” She finally asks.
Abbie looks up, and for a moment I think she looks guilty, nervous. “You're not going to nag me about over working again, are you?”
“No, not tonight.” Cassie smiles, and goes back to the kitchen. “This evening is about relaxing and celebrating.”
“What are we celebrating?” Abbie looks at me in confusion. I answer with a shrug; Cassie hasn't mentioned a celebration.
“Theresa skipped out of work early for the first time.” Cassie walks back in with a bowl, grinning wickedly. “My reign as a corrupting influence goes undisputed.”
“You are awful.” Abbie scolds playfully, sinking back into the cushions and accepting the bowl. Astra jumps up immediately to investigate, and I grab hold of Nemi before she can do the same.
“This is people food - you had your food earlier.” I grab Astra, and carry them both across to the bedroom to shut them in.
“They would tell you, of course, that Cassie starves them horribly, and never lets them have nice things.” Abbie takes a spoonful, and sighs contentedly. “Like this; this is nice things.”
“You should have seen them earlier; I left the bowl I was making the mousse in on the counter as I fetched the glasses I was going to serve them in. I was gone for twenty, maybe thirty seconds, and when I turned around Nemisis was on the counter about to stick her nose in it.” Cassie comes back and passes a bowl to me, before sitting down next to Abbie. “I give them their catnip treats and their pouches of food, and they try to eat our chocolate; that's our nice things, not theirs.”
Abbie laughs. “You realise it will only get worse as they grow? You won't be able to scoop them out of the way so easily when they're fully grown cats?”
“Oh we know!” We chorus.
Abbie looks at us strangely, and then focusses on eating.
“So what did you get up to today?” Cassie asks, sinking back into the cushions. Physically, she's about as relaxed as she can get. Mentally... well, that's another matter.
“Went out for an early morning patrol, had an early lunch, went out again, and stayed out late to make up some time.” The instant the last words are out of her mouth, she looks like she's regretting them.
“Make up the time for what?” I ask, honestly curious.
“I spent the middle of the day doing something else.” She looks back and forth at us, and sighs. “You're both just going to ask questions until you have the full story, so I may as well get it over with. I was spending time with Roger.”
Cassie and I share a look that Abbie doesn't seem to, or pretends not to, notice.
“Marvel, you mean? Any particular reason?” Cassie asks finally.
“Did you hear about the fight he had with Mai Lin?” When we both nod, she stares down into her half empty bowl, and continues. “Roger was really upset after that; he'd been hoping to have a quiet Christmas, just the two of them, but she kept insisting on all of these parties that they could go to. She's so keen on being seen out in public, and is trying to ride Rogers connections as much as she can.”
“I'd not have thought he'd have been able to add that much.” I tentatively add.
“She'll take whatever little boost she can get. She's desperately trying to get recognised as a big timer, but she just doesn't cut it. And when Roger told her he didn't want to go out... she freaked. Started yelling all these nasty things about him using her, when it's the other way round! Anyway, Roger just wanted someone to talk to, and I said I had some free time, so we went for a drive, and we talked. He's not nearly as bad as we thought, not when he's not trying to live up to all the pressure.”
I open my mouth to protest - what pressure? - but Cassie shushes me.
“You will be careful, won't you?”
Abbie bristles. “Why have you always got to be so against him?”
“I'm not; I just know how much you like him, and if he's broken up over Mai Lin, he could end up spending more time with you trying to work out what to do... I don't want you to get yourself hurt seeing something that may not be there.” Abbie can't feel the disgust that's hidden behind Cassie's words; whatever reason she's saying this, it's not because Cassie believes it.
“Oh.” Abbie takes a few more bites, considering. “Okay.”
“Change of subject; we have a case.” Cassie shoots me another look, but this one I know the meaning of; we discussed this whilst waiting for Abbie to turn up.
“Yeah?” Abbie looks at both of us, still looking tired, and not really paying attention. “What've you found?”
“There was an attack on Red Avenue, and one again on Thomas Street. We think we know why, and who did it?”
Abbie's spoon clatters in her nearly empty bowl. “Two attacks?”
“Shush.” Cassie says soothingly. “You've had a lot on. We might not have told you all the details anyway; no wonder you're not aware of them. The first was a man named Carmach; he was found in Red Avenue, shortly after attempting to mug a young woman. He was in hospital up until yesterday, but he's run away... we're hoping that we can track him down and ask some more questions.”
“He ran away?” Abbie asks, pole axed.
“Yes; we think party for the fact he knew we were onto the mugging, and because he's all tied up in drugs. The second guy too, Draconan, is also involved in drugs. He was found dead in Thomas Street. The night you were there.”
Abbie shivers. “I don't... I...”
“Abbie, it's okay.” Cassie puts down her bowl and twists in her seat, to face Abbie. She watches her face intently “You remember McLeod? Do you remember what I told you about him?”
“Who?” Asks Abbie, confused.
“The man who was holding up the bank; the one who had the Ability to confuse people.” Cassie takes hold of her hand. “I think he’s the one doing this; I think you saw him that night, and he used his Ability on you.”
Abbie stares at Cassie. “You think he…”
“It makes sense. Listen, Becca was at the first scene, and she couldn’t remember a thing. The doctors said it was probably concussion, but they were surprised at the severity compared to the impact to her head. And then you showed up yesterday, at the scene of the second attack; you were dazed, and couldn’t focus… all you could think about was getting to the girl. I put it down to the fact you’d been dragged out of bed, but it was more than just tiredness.”
“So you’re saying that Becca and I both turned up…” Abbie asks sceptically.
“You’re both incredibly lucky that he just used his powers on you, rather than kill you too. You had such a close escape.” Cassie wraps her arm around Abbie’s shoulder.
“We think McLeod went after the two of them because of drugs.” I add in, trying to change the subject away from near death experiences. “We think McLeod is the name that Reg Venton is going by nowadays, and that he is trying to build up his control over the drug scenes again.”
“Reg Venton…” Abbie screws up her eyes, obviously struggling to remember. “He’s the one who vanished in twenty twelve; you think this is him, doing these things?”
“Well, doesn’t it make sense?” Asks Cassie. “I mean, what can you remember about last night?”
“Not… not much. Not anything, really.” Says Abbie, cautiously. “You think that’s because he clouded my mind?”
“I know we don’t technically have any proof yet that he has that Ability…” Cassie screws up her fists in frustration; she thought earlier that it would be difficult to convince people to accept the assumption that McLeod nee Venton could do this. She had hoped that Abbie would believe her.
“No, that… that makes sense.” Abbie looks down at her own hands. “It’s the same thing, the same confusion, both times? And that’s what happened at the… at the bank? This confusion?”
“He made people see what he wanted them to see, and then afterwards they couldn’t remember what had happened at all.” Cassie agrees, looking - feeling - hopeful.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you told me… I didn’t, did I?” Abbie rubs at her eyes.
“No. I can’t help thinking this confusion is part of it. He must have recognised you and done a bigger muddle than normal. Made you forget everything you might have heard about him… as McLeod and Venton!”
“He must have…” Abbie looks at both of us, wide eyed. “So what happens next?”
“We have to focus on finding a way to McLeod. Carmach is currently our best bet so far. We have a very slim lead, the woman who came to pick him up. We managed to get a picture from the security footage.”
“May I see?” Abbie pushes herself up, to lean forward on her knees.
“I don’t know hun… you’ve got a lot of work as it is…” Cassie looks doubtfully at Abbie, and then to me.
“Please! I want to be able to help!” Abbie pleads, looking between us.
“I’ll go get the picture.” I say, walking across to the table. I can understand Cassie’s desire to protect Abbie, but knowing what Carmach’s helper looks like won’t add any extra stress, and it can only help to have an extra pair of eyes.
I show it to Abbie, who stares at it for a few moments. “Can I get a copy of this?”
“Yes, of course. We’ve managed to get these logged as official claims, for a change, and so we can make our investigations quite openly now.” Cassie stands up, holding her hand out for the pictures.
“Huh?” Abbie keeps holding them for a second, staring up at Cassie.
“Hand them over; I am banning work for the rest of the evening. We have a lead; that’s enough for now.”
Chapter 29
Cassie (Aka Hell Fire)
Monday 19th December, 2021
“This is hopeless.” I lean back in my chair, rubbing at my eyes. “We should have had some sighting of one of them by now.”
“They’re lying low… and anyone who does know them isn’t just going to hand them over to us.” Theresa looks up from stroking Astra. “I know it’s frustrating Cassie, but we knew it wasn’t going to be something we could do in a week.”
“I know but...” I stop, trying to keep the whining note out of my voice.
“There's going to be time to look into this later; they'll relax more over the holiday if we're lucky. There's not much we're going to be able to do to force the issue.” She looks at me over the top of the fluffy black and white head. “There's other things you can be working on, you know.”
“You're not going on about the party again, are you?” She's been fixated on it; not just on the party itself, or on her date for it, but on me; what I'm going to wear, how I'm going to pretty myself up...
“Someone has to put some thought into it. You're not.” She puts Astra to one side, and walks into my bedroom.
“Where are you going?!” I follow her in, feeling like I am quickly losing control of the situation.
She has my wardrobe open, and she is rifling through the clothes. “What were you planning on wearing?”
“I must have something in there...?” I ask, doubtfully.
“Nothing suitable for a ball. And I've not seen any signs of you owning make up.” She turns to look at me. “The party is in two days time. At the very least, even if you don't care about dressing up for your own sake, what about Michael? You agreed to go with him; surely you wanted to do the party thing?”
Admitting that I partly agreed so I could keep an eye on her and Doctor Collins doesn't seem like a sensible plan now. The only other option is ceding ground in the dress debate..
“Okay, okay. You've made your point. What do you suggest?”
“We could get to the shops before they closed this evening, if we moved quickly. We could try and find you a dress, and then do make up and jewellery tomorrow?” Theresa seems keen, and so I agree; I let her drag me out of the flat and out to the buses. I try and find some reserve of interest in dress shopping, and hope that she's too busy being eager to realise how reluctant I am.
Fortunately, she doesn't seem to notice my mood, and takes me into a dress boutique. I stand there, feeling distinctly out of place, as Theresa looks at the rails of dresses. An assistant comes over to her, seeming to miss my presence entirely.
“Can I help at all?” She asks smoothly; coiffed and preened, and obviously the type who would never feel out of place in an expensive shop...
Yes, I'm being jealous; I can see the green tinge to my skin. I don't care.
“My friend and I are looking for dresses for a Christmas party... we've been quite busy, and left it a little late I'm afraid.” Theresa slips smoothly into the ideal customer role.
The assistant turns to study me, head tilted to one side. “We have a few things that would probably work quite well... if you would come this way?”
Seeing very little in the way of alternative choices, I follow her to the changing rooms. The assistant studies me again, and then Theresa, and excuses herself.
“Are you okay?” Theresa looks at me, and I realise she must have spotted how uncomfortable I am now. “You didn't have to come out if you really don't like...”
“No, you're right. I need a dress for this thing. I've never been a very good clothes shopper. I always used to get distracted and I can never find anything I like, and...”
“...shall I tell you how you look to me?”
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “I don't like feeling like I'm being dressed up for other peoples approval. I like wearing what makes me comfortable, not what best frames me for other people to stare at.”
“I'm sorry Cassie... I got carried away. I just wanted to make the party a bit of a break for us, but I didn't realise that you'd not enjoy that. We can go home if you like?” Theresa looks almost heartbroken, and I see the guilt she is feeling.
It makes me feel like a heel for being so grumpy. “No, you're right. I can't turn up in my jeans and a t-shirt. For a start, it wouldn't be fair on Michael.” I know for an effort he's putting in a lot of effort; he's been texting me these past few days to make sure he knows exactly when I want to be picked up, and what I want to do before, and after... I have been replying, just... just not as enthusiastically as I should have done. “I've not been particularly fair on him already.”
“Well, we can find you a stunning dress and do something to make up for it?” She smiles at me, and I smile back, despite myself.
“Here you go.” The assistant comes back with four dresses; one black dress, one dark burgundy red, one a dark midnight blue, and the final one a pale silvery blue. She hands the black dress and the burgundy one to me, and the two blue ones to Theresa. “These should be about the right sizes. If you'd like to try them on?”
I shrug, and take the dresses. “Thank you.” She holds open the door for me, and I carry the two dresses in. The changing room is almost half the size of my bedroom! There's a leather arm chair, the full length mirror spread across one wall, and the racks and hooks. I hang up the two dresses, and strip down.
I try the black one on first; the main body of the dress is just a sleek floor length evening gown, the skirt flaring out ever so slightly from the knees. It's a sleeveless dress, but there's a pattern of deep red flowers edged in gold that blooms up from just above the left hip, spreads across my torso and reaches to a thick neck band, forming an asymmetric halterneck effect. It swishes as I move in it, and the flowers catch the light. I try and imagine wearing this to the party, try to imagine what it will look like when I am fully made up. But it's hard to do so with the face scowling back in the mirror. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, smoothing out my features.
When I open my eyes, the face that stares back at me from the mirror could be the ghost of Cassie past. This is a dress I would have worn five years ago, back in Justita's heyday. It suits her.
“Is everything okay in there?” The assistant calls softly through the door.
Manners dictate I show her. I pull the door open, and she smiles. “Oh yes, that looks perfect; with your hair pinned up maybe, and...”
“Not this one.”
“Are you sure? I suits you wonderfully...”
“Not. This. One.” I very calmly close the door, and strip the dress off; I resist the urge to curl it up and fling it into a corner. It suits Justita; she could have worn gold edged flowers and laughed at the right jokes, and been comfortable. I would know I was just being a fraud, and anyone who saw me in that dress might start to suspect it as well.
I eye the second dress with misgivings, but I will almost certainly need to try it on before I am allowed to dismiss it.
The dress is heavier when I pick it up. That's partly to do with the material; it's is crushed velvet, a beautiful deep burgundy, the colour of red wine on a candlelit table. But there seems to be more to this dress as well. A little more hopeful, I pull it on.
This one isn't sleeveless; the dress splits in a very deep v-neck to smooth over my shoulders, and cross across my back, joining the rest of the dress at the sides, just above where the back dips down to the base of my spine. The body of the dress fits close to me, skimming over my stomach and breasts. At the hips, the skirt becomes fuller, falling in small, soft waves. I study myself in the mirror.
Now this is a dress Justita would never have worn. It's not indecent; the thickness of the shoulder straps makes the deep v-neck a subtly, occasionally flashing hints of skin as I turn and, whilst I can feel cool air on my lower back, a quick check reveals there is no way of the gap falling any lower. No, she wouldn't have worn it because this is a dress that screams sultry sophistication. It was never a look I went for back then, but now...
I pull open the door, and the assistant lets out a small gasp.
“What do you think?” She asks cautiously, obviously afraid that if she voices a second opinion, I will reject it on another arbitrary whim.
“This one.” I smile, giving a half turn.
“This I have to see.” Theresa pulls the door of her changing room open, and peeks around it. “Oh Cassie, you look fantastic!”
It's easier to just take the compliment and then deflect. “Thank you... do I get to see what you've found?”
“Give me one moment; I'm just changing back into the first one.” She pushes the door to, and I fetch out the first dress to give to the assistant. She takes it without protestation, and vanishes off to place it back where she found it.
“What do you think?” I hear Theresa ask, and turn my head to look.
She stands framed in the doorway, the pale blue dress looking like something out of Cinderella. The skirt maybe isn’t quite as full, and the dress has a layer of organza rather than a sparkling residue of magic, but the effect is the same.
“Nice; give a twirl?”
The skirt billows out, and the gauzy overskirt floats up, following the main body with a second’s graceful delay. The top is fitted across the torso, and then the gauzy material spills out and up, to be gathered at the shoulders where the wide neckline is pinned with small silver broaches, and trail away in two long double scarves.
“Very nice indeed. They won’t know what hit them when you make your entrance.”
“When we make our entrance.” Theresa insists, pulling me over so we are both framed in her changing room’s mirror.
The two of us do make a striking contrast; her dress glints and glimmers in the light, whilst mine seems to absorb it in, softly glowing.
“We look like fire and ice.” Theresa turns, trying to study the back of her dress. “Well, more like glowing embers, but you know what I mean…”
“The perfect themed pair.” I agree, watching the way the colours shift. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up stuck with me for life.”
“Horrors of horrors.” She grins, turning back to face the mirror. “If you can cope with me constantly dredging up tiny details, I’m sure I can cope with you…”
“With me what?” I turn to face her, arms crossed, grinning.
She’s saved from answering by the return of the shop assistant. She looks at both of us, and a small cloud of envy slowly builds around her.
“You both look fabulous.” She keeps any trace of it completely out of her voice, but the knowledge of it, and the knowledge that just a few moments ago I was jealous of her, makes me feel uncomfortable again.
“We’ll take them then.” I step away, to go back into my changing room. “That is, if you’ve decided on that one Theresa?”
“Yes, I think so.” She looks at me with confusion, probably wondering why my mood has changed so quickly again.
I shrug a half apology, and close myself back in. Just getting through the day, surviving all the ordinary interactions of shopping and walking down a street, used to be so much easier. And I can’t just blame my Ability either; I’ve got out of practice, all the little niceties most people take for granted now an effort to remember.
Back in the relative safety of my jeans and jumper, I join Theresa back on the shop floor. She’s already paying for her dress, and I dutifully queue behind her until it’s my turn. The price makes my eyes widen involuntarily for a moment, but there’s very little I spend my money on otherwise so I buy it without further comment.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Theresa smiles at me, hoisting her bag aloft as though it were a trophy. “So, shoes and makeup; if we’re very, very quick, we could maybe do shoes now.”
It was more fun that I thought it would be… not that I’m going to admit it aloud. “We’ll still have time on Wednesday; we can log the ball as working, so we can leave at two or three and have plenty of time to buy them and get home and change. We don’t have to head in until seven.”
“Oh Cassie… I’m meeting Doctor Collins for dinner before hand. I thought you and Michael were going out, so I said yes…” She looks horrified, and I kick myself. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Oh, we’re still trying to fix down what we’re doing.” It’s almost true. Michael keeps asking me, and I keep giving non committal responses. I should probably get back to him about that…
“Well, we can do it tomorrow instead.”
“Are you sure?” Theresa is obviously struggling with her desire to go on the meal, and the need to stand by me.
“Yeah, it’s fine; it gives us another excuse to cut out early.” I smile, to convince myself as much as to convince her. I'll phone Michael this evening, and arrange something. “We'll do the shopping tomorrow then, and cut out early to do the whole girly getting ready thing.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I'm not sure I'd survive trying to braid your hair.”
“But, admit it, you're now tempted to try...”
-x-
The doorbell rings, and I jump, nearly causing Theresa to skewer me with the hair grip.
“Cassie, calm down.” Theresa places the brush and the hairgrips on the side. “I'll go answer it. If it's Michael, he can come and sit in the lounge, and if it's Doctor Collins I'll tell him I'm just finishing getting ready. You just stay here, and stay still.”
She walks out of the bedroom and I study myself in the mirror. She decided against braiding my hair in the end - but only because she said it wasn't nice enough for a ball - and has pinned it up so loose curls tumble around my face, and the rest twines round itself somehow at the back. I'm not quite sure what she did to make it stay up; she was doing that without really concentrating, and I got distracted by the conversation. There's only a few more curls to pin up, and I'll be done.
I was trusted to do my own make up - will wonders never cease? - and have kept it quite simple. Just a dark red lipstick, and some eyeliner and mascara; nothing fancy, but I managed to get Theresa's approval all the same. It's more effort than I normally make, at any rate, and I look quite nice if I do say so myself. Not as nice as Theresa maybe; she's gone all out, with eyeshadow and lip gloss and a goodness knows what other powders. But the finished look is worth it. She looks as though she is completely in control, and I'm hoping it will help to keep her unruffled.
Theresa hurries back into the room. “It's Luke... Doctor Collins! He's parked up outside but he's going to have to go move soon... he doesn't have the residency badge, and I didn't think of that.” She eyes my hair with dismay, but goes to collect the grips again.
“You go.” I hear myself saying. “I can finish up here.”
“Are you sure?” She's half way to picking up her clutch bag as she asks, buoyed from frantic to eager in a matter of seconds.
I nod, and watch as she hurries from the room. Fantastic; now I'm stuck with a half finished hair style, and Michael could be turning up with the same need to move quickly any moment now. I consider taking the pins out and wearing it loose, but then I have another idea. I pick up my phone from the counter, and call Abbie.
“Hey Cassie; what's up?” Abbie sounds a little harried, and I worry that I've caught her putting in more hours again.
“You're not at work, are you?”
“No, I'm at home. Not feeling amazing, so was just going to crash here and try and switch off.”
“Oh.” I could still ask her if she'd be able to come and help. It's not far, and she'd probably be willing. But she doesn't deserve that. “Okay; well, I'm out this evening, but I'll have my phone with me; call me if you feel any worse, or want some company?”
“I'll be fine, you idiot. You just worry about having a good time tonight.”
“I will. Take care of yourself.”
“I always try.” She ends the call, and I put the phone down, resigned to trying to fix this myself. There's only a few curls at the back; it shouldn't take much to grip them up with the rest of the hair...
I'm sliding the last pin into place when there's knocking at the door again. With a quick double check in the mirror - it will do for the evening - I head into the lounge, trying to spot Astra and Nemi. The last thing I need is the two of them making a break for it.
As I pull the door open, that's just what Astra does. Fortunately Michael moves with faster reactions than I would have given him credit for, and bends down to catch her as she tries to wriggle around his legs.
“And who is this gorgeous...” He starts to ask, straightening up and seeing me. His jaw drops open for a second, before he snaps it shut and swallows once, twice, and blinks.
“You look very nice. I have a...” He pro-offers Astra, and then realises what he is doing. “Well, no, this is already your kitten, but I have something for you... something else. As well.” He stops talking with a visible effort.
I take Astra from him, and step back into the room. “Thank you for catching her. I didn't want to play chase the kitten around the block. Did you have time to come in, or do we need to move quickly?”
“No, that's fine.” He picks up a bag from behind the doorframe, and steps in, closing the door.
Nemi takes this opportunity to investigate the new person in our house a little more sedately. She steps out from behind the sofa and sniffs at his shoes.
“Hello, pretty.” Michael kneels down, and gently strokes her. She gives approval by arching into it, and purring almost immediately. I let Astra down before she becomes too jealous and starts to use claws, and watch as the pair of them vie for his attention.
“I'm just going to finish up.” I stay and watch him for a moment more, before going back into my bedroom.
Well, if the kittens approve of him, I had better give him a chance. Granted, the kittens approve of nearly anyone who fusses over them, or brings them food...
I check myself in the mirror. My hair is holding up, make up is okay... I grap the one bottle of perfume I own and mist my hair and wrists. The only other thing would be jewellery. I flip the lid to the small wooden treasure chest I use open, and start rifling through. I catch a glimpse of red, and pull it out. It's the pendant Ian brought me...
-
“It's beautiful!” I gasp as he opens the lid. “It must have cost you a fortune. You shouldn't have!”
“I could afford it; I had a windfall. And I wanted to get you something nice.” He pulls it free from the wrapping, and holds it out. “Shall I put it on you?”
I study it appreciatively for a few seconds more; a large, round ruby, held in the clasp by what looks like a web of fine wires around the edge. “It's really beautiful Ian. Please. You must have a guilty conscious over something.” I joke.
His hands still for just a second, and there's a second of chill around my heart...
-
I lay it to one side, very gently, resisting the urge to fling it as far from me as I can. I fish out the single black pearl I brought myself instead, and fix that round my neck. The gold chain is so fine it's barely viable, revealing itself as it catches the light as a trail of shimmering fire.
I head back into the lounge. Michael is seated on the sofa, a kitten sprawled across each leg, scratching their necks. I can hear the purrs from here.
“You look absolutely stunning. Which is my defense for not being able to string a sentence together earlier.” He carefully moves the kittens, unhooking protesting claws from his suit trousers, and stands.
I take the chance whilst he's distracted extricating himself to look at him properly. He's in a simple black suit, and has gone for a black shirt... possibly even silk, but I'm not sure. The only splash of colour is his tie; sanguine red, the same shade as the Bugatti.
We match very well.
“Did Theresa call you and tell you what I was going to be wearing?” I ask.
“Actually... oh this is going to get me into trouble... actually, I was thinking of your hair.” He smiles sheepishly at me.
“It's one way to match when the lady doesn't return your calls, I suppose.” I smile back. “Shall we?”
“Yes... just one thing.” He picks up the bag, and holds it out to me. “For you.”
Inside is a box of chocolates; very nice, very expensive chocolates, and a small white box. I pull them both out, and look at him in confusion, holding the white box up.
“The chocolates are for later... kind of a Christmas present as well. This...” he takes the small box, and opens it. “Is for now.” He takes out a corsage, a single blood red rose bud with a black ribbon bow. “In case we didn't match enough.”
It's a very sweet gesture, and I feel myself blushing. “Thank you.”
“Let me put it on for you.” Obviously encouraged, he steps forward, and starts to slide the band over my wrist. His head dips down close to my own, and I catch a hint of his aftershave.
He looks up suddenly, as though he has just realised what he’s doing, how close he’s standing. For a moment the two of us stare at each other, and I’m aware of a haze on him. No, on both of us. It tingles across my skin.
He steps back sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We should probably go. I managed to get reservations at the star; I know the manager there, and he let me have one of the spots he keeps reserved in case a headliner comes in. But if we’re late we might lose it.”
“I’m impressed.” I am. The star - The Morning Star - is one of the most exclusive restaurants this side of the country, let alone the town. Unless you’re lucky enough to have the kind of status that keeps a table permanently on hold, you need to book months, sometimes years in advance. “You didn’t exaggerate my status in the company, did you? They’ll know I’m not a headliner.”
“No, I just called in quite a few favours that I’ve built up over the years. But I figured, the star is a once in a lifetime kind of thing, so it was worth it.” He smiles, unsure whether he should be playing it up, or down.
He has a point. For most people, eating in the star is the stuff of dreams. Since I can’t exactly tell him that, in a former life, I celebrated every birthday my mother and I had during my time as Justita there, I’ll have to remember to pretend this is the first time.
And hope to whatever higher powers are out there and paying attention that no one recognises me.
“Okay; well, we had better not let those favours go to waste.” I pick up my bag. “Shall we?”
His arm twitches up, as though he was going to offer it to me, and then he changes his mind, trying to disguise the gesture as checking his watch. “Yes, let’s shall.” He opens the door and holds it for me to pass through. As I pass close to him, I feel the haze on my skin again.
This shall be interesting.
-x-
The restaurant is just as I remember; the same filigree candle holders on the tables, the same chandeliers reflecting back the light in little rainbows across the table. Fortunately no one seems to have recognised me; we were shown to our table with a thinly concealed air of surprise that we had a reservation.
The food is still exquisite, and I didn’t have to feign delight on tasting it; I could see Michael visibly relaxing as I took the first mouthful and sighed.
“Will it pass muster?” He asks as the waiter carries the dinner plates away.
“Oh, I suppose.” I smile back, and take a sip of the wine. “I probably won’t want to eat again for a week after this; nothing will taste the same after that.”
“I know! Which is a relief, because I won’t be able to afford food again for a while after… that was incredible gauche, wasn’t it?” He looks down at the table clothe, shame snaking across his skin.
I hadn’t thought about that; I can afford a meal here from the savings I’ve slowly built up. But for Michael…
“I can… if it wouldn’t… I can pay. I have some money saved up - not having to pay rent helps - and I could… as a thank you for you getting us in here in the first place…”
“Thank you.” He doesn’t meet my eye. “But I’m okay. I have some savings for things like this. I shouldn’t have made that comment; I didn’t mean for you to think I was bankrupting myself bringing you here.” The wound to his pride is obvious, but I can’t hold it against him.
I look away, not sure what to say to make the situation any better, and catch a glimpse of expensive dental work and golden blonde hair.
Abbie and Marvel are sitting at a table, leaning close over the table talking together.
“Cassie, are you okay?”
I drag my eyes back round to face Michael. “Sorry?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No, just… someone I didn’t expect to see. It shocked me a little.” I smile, trying to reassure him even as my stomach does somersaults. Abbie said she wasn’t feeling well, that she was going to spend the evening in.
So what is she doing in the Morning Star?
Chapter 30
Theresa (Aka Call Girl)
Wednesday 21st December 2021
“That was delicious; thank you.”
Doctor Collins - Luke, I really should be calling him Luke - smiles back at me. “It was; I found myself enjoying the company more.”
I feel myself blushing, and fuss with the clasp of my bag. It was only a compliment Theresa; you have to stop acting like a school girl on her first date!
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He asks quietly.
“No, not at all!” I look up, startled. He's focussing on the road ahead, but he's frowning. I didn't think he sounded too concerned, but it seems I underestimated how much my answer could mean. “Really Luke, it's just...”
“If you wanted me to take you home...”
“No!” My voice is louder than I intended, and I try and control it. “No, please. I am having a wonderful time. Why would you think otherwise?”
“You won't meet my eye, you keep looking away every time I compliment you...”
Can he really not have realised the alternative explanation? “That's because I'm trying to hide the fact I'm quite smitten. I've read it's not good to be quite so obvious on the first date... on the first time out with someone.” Curse my traitorous tongue; there's no way he could have missed that slip!
“So this is a date?” He looks at me sideways as he controls the car through traffic.
“I... well, I had hoped so.”
“So had I.” He smiles at me. “Though I do think you have a bit of an advantage if you're going to be hiding your feelings, being an Empath and all.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” I ask, concerned.
“You'll just have to be openly smitten, and so will I. It's the only solution.” He says it so solemnly, in such contrast to the amusement that he is feeling, that I can't help but laugh.”
“Deal.”
-x-
The rest of the journey was even more pleasant; I hadn't thought it could be so, but Luke was absolutely charming, keeping up a stream of banter and anecdotes that left me barely aware of the world outside.
When we reach the hospital, we drive away from the queue of traffic waiting to park, and starts to head in amidst the buildings.
“One of the perks in the work do being held close to work,” he explains “is that I have my own parking space.”
He pulls into the entrance to a basement car park. His lights sweep across rows of empty spaces.
“Like a ghost town.” I comment. “I'd bet it's not normally this empty.”
“No, never. Normally this one is almost constantly full of people bustling on and off shift. But this evening it's just us. Just the two of us.”
I feel a shiver of... something, but think better of mentioning it.
“You had better lead the way; I'm completely disorientated.”
He offers me his arm, and I take it. “It is like a maze, to the uninitiated.” He agrees. “But once we get to the main building, we're on the main road and the hotel isn't far at all.”
We walk in companionable silence, our breath foggy against the cold night air. He leads me down twist and turns through the buildings, enough to baffle any one else. I can feel my mind storing them all away though, and take a small amount of unexpected comfort from that.
When we reach the hotel, there's a small queue trailing down the steps; I look to see if I can catch a sight of Cassie, or Michael, but they're not immediately visible.
“Wait here?” Luke leads me to the end of the line, and then vanishes in the direction of the hotel. I can only think he's seen someone he recognises, and doesn't want us to lose our place in the queue.
I amuse myself by studying the range of dresses in the queue ahead. There's mostly evening gowns, but one or two women have braved the cold in a cocktail dress, and a few others have skirts wide enough to be bordering on proper ballgown style.
“This way.” Luke is back, guiding me down the queue towards the hotel.
I catch a few mutters as we go past, mostly curiosity, but a few tinged with resentment. I don't understand why until he takes us down the side of the hotel, where a staff door is propped open, and a waiter stands waiting.
“Thank you.” Luke presses something into his hand - a note, though I can't tell how much - and turns to smile at me. “Come on, let's get in out of the cold.”
I feel slightly uncomfortable. “Shouldn't we go through the same way as everyone else?”
“No need. They just want to take the tickets to check attendance, and I can go up to the desk once we're in and say they forgot to take ours. You didn't want to stand around waiting in the queue did you?”
“Well, no, but it doesn't seem fair to skip past all those other people.”
The waiter gives a small cough, and Luke turns round, irritated. “Well, if you like, we can go back and join the queue again. But honestly, it's not that unfair; we've just found an alternative entrance with a different kind of cost to get through. They're giving time...”
He lets the rest, the unspoken fact that he would be losing his money, hang in the air.
“No, you’re right; I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I apologise to Luke, to the waiter patiently holding the door, and slink through, feeling ashamed for causing such a fuss. It was a nice gesture - a very kind gesture - and I sat and fussed over the fact no one else had thought to, or wanted to, do something similar.
Luke puts a hand on my shoulder, preventing my further retreat down the corridor. “It’s okay Theresa; you were right. I didn’t think of it in terms of fairness to other people. I just wanted to get you in out of the cold.”
“I’m sorry I caused such a fuss. It was very kind and thoughtful of you - thank you.” I’m scared to look up at him, desperate to make amends and not sure how.
He hooks his finger under my chin, raising my head to face him. “You are an incredibly good, kind soul, you know that?” He whispers, tilting his head down. “Selfless, generous, beautiful…”
For a second, something rings false, hollow, with the words. Then I feel the breath of his words as a caress across my lips, his head dips down to close the distance, and he kisses me. My eyes close, doubts fall away, every sense focussing on this moment; the feel of him, his scent, the whisper as he twines his fingers in my hair. I feel his shirt bunching in my hand, and realise that I have placed it on his chest without thought.
It seems to be an eternity before he lifts his head again; I honestly couldn’t say how long we stood in the middle of the corridor, pressed together.
He smoothes my hair back down, and then takes hold of the hand still clutching his shirt. “We should go in.”
“We should?” His words sink in, the meaning of them, and I gasp and let go. “The party! What if someone saw us?”
“They would think I was the luckiest man alive, and they’d be right.” He smiles at me, and weaves his fingers through mine. “Come on; I still need to hand in the tickets.”
As he leads me down the corridor, I can’t help but think this evening is going to be interesting…
-x-
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing on your own at a party like this?”
There’s something familiar and wrong with the voice, that confuses me as I turn. Cassie stands smiling at me. “Doctor Collins ditched you already?”
“He had to go and talk to a colleague about something. There was patient confidentiality involved, so I volunteered to stay here. What about Michael; ditched him already?”
She points at the bar, where I can just make out his profile as he leans, vying for attention. “We thought it better I didn’t get into the crowd; getting shoved around does nothing for my temper, and most of the patrons wouldn’t want their drinks flambéed.”
“Are you having a good time? Or a reasonable time at least?”
She smiles. “Yes, I'm having a good time. Michael is being on his absolute best behaviour, so I'm being treated like a star, and nobody really recognises me all prettied up, so I'm not getting the cold shoulder half way through small talk. It's amazing what taking the mask off can do, isn't it?”
“We're lucky that way; I'll bet Craig and Abbie get recognised where ever they go.”
Cassie frowns, and gives a non-committal sigh.
There's a lot of confusion and worries tied up in that sigh.“What's wrong?”
“It's nothing, I'm sure... it's just... I called Abbie, after you left, to see if she could come and help me finish what you'd been doing to my hair. She said she was really tired and worn out, and was going to stay in, so I left it. But then I saw her at the star...”
“You went to the Morning Star?!” I ask, distracted.
She pulls a face at me. “Focus, Theresa. She was there with Marvel. I know it was her; like you said, she's not someone who's easy to mistake.”
“Maybe he called and needed a friendly ear; Abbie's too inclined to be nice.” It's a poor excuse, I know. The likelihood is, Abbie was getting ready for her date and wanted to let Cassie down easily; she probably thought Cassie was phoning for company that evening.
But Cassie latches onto it with a speed that's disturbing. “Yes, of course... I bet he wouldn't have taken the hint when she said how tired she was, and would have asked her to come be his shoulder to cry on. I decided against asking because I knew she'd not say no... Marvel would never have that level of tact or empathy!”
“Umm...” I don't know what else to say. Now I've put the alternative reason in front of her, I don't know how to bring Cassie around to the idea that Abbie had probably already planned to meet Marvel. The Morning Star is not exactly somewhere you go on a whim.
“I'm glad you said that, Theresa; I didn't know what to think.” She sounds so relieved, I decide to leave it. Cassie is having a good time this evening; no need to spoil that by suggesting her best friend has been lying to her.
“There you are!” Luke walks over to the spot he left me twenty minutes ago. “I'm sorry that took so long; you start discussing procedures and you end up debating details for hours.” He notices Cassie. “I'm sorry, I don't think we've... Hell Fire?”
“Doctor Collins.” She smiles at him, a little forced. “And who was rude enough to get you so busy on your evening off, especially when you had my friend here waiting.”
He looks at her, and I see something pass between them. “And what about you? Surely you didn't come alone?”