The tearsmith, p.42
The Tearsmith, page 42
As I turned back around, my eyes fell on the note. I hesitated, before reaching out to read it:
I’ve wanted to write to you many times, but this seemed the best way to do it.
I don’t remember clearly what happened the other night, but I can’t shake the feeling that I scared you. Did I? I’m sorry…
When can we talk? I miss you.
My hands were shaking. Every moment of what had happened flashed before my eyes like a scar: his lips, his hands, his arms constraining me, holding me still, my voice pleading with him.
In a sudden impulse, I tore the flowers from the vase, moved to the sink and flung open the cupboard underneath. I paused, holding the bouquet in midair, staring at the trash with trembling hands.
I gripped the stems, pressed my lips together. My throat tightened. I couldn’t do it.
Those flowers didn’t deserve it.
But there was something else.
Something, within me, the most ruined part of my heart, the part that the matron had deformed, couldn’t bring myself to hate him, destroy him, wipe him away.
I saw his drawing of the snail sticking out through the petals and couldn’t find the strength to chuck them.
I should have torn up that piece of card and thrown it away, but I couldn’t.
I had never known how to tear things.
Not even with all the tenderness in the world.
* * *
—
More wonderful bouquets arrived over the next few days, each one of them with the same little note with the drawing of a snail.
Anna put them in a vase for me for when I got home.
One afternoon, there was also a packet of crocodile-shaped gummies. I found myself squeezing it in my hands before shoving it in a drawer to get it out of my sight. The next day, there were more lying on the table, wrapped up with ribbon.
‘They’re from an admirer,’ Anna whispered one evening to Norman, who gave a conspiratorial ‘Ooh’.
Klaus, on the other hand, did not appreciate all the commotion. He hissed at the vases that Anna left on the furniture, and nibbled those that weren’t lucky enough to be placed out of harm’s way. He seemed to understand that they weren’t from Anna’s shop, but from someone else.
One evening, I heard a rustling in the kitchen. I turned the light on and found his yellow eyes staring at me, a white petal sticking out from under his whiskers.
‘Klaus,’ I murmured, exasperated. I approached, and he turned his ears back, continuing to munch defiantly on the flower. ‘Come on…You want another tummy upset?’
He wriggled away before I could lift him off the counter. For him, being picked up was probably a lot worse than an upset tummy.
I sighed quietly, looking at the bunch of white roses. I pulled out the flower that he had destroyed and turned it over in my hands. I already knew what the little note would say. I had stopped reading them because they just upset me.
I saw Rigel standing in the shadows near the door when I turned around. His black eyes, dark diamonds, fell on the white rose in my hands.
He hadn’t said a thing the last few days. But I knew what this meant. Getting closer to him had meant learning to interpret the silences he wrapped himself in.
‘This doesn’t mean anything,’ I whispered, before he could turn around. I didn’t want his traumas and suspicions to make him withdraw from me, but I knew they had marked his heart ever since he was a child.
‘But you haven’t thrown them away.’
He turned his back on me and I bit my lip, wishing I could tear down all the walls that still existed between us. Sometimes, they seemed like an endless staircase, full of cracks and broken steps designed to make me fall.
Sometimes, when I paused, exhausted, and looked up, I couldn’t see the top.
But I knew that he was there.
Alone.
And I was the only one who could reach him.
* * *
—
‘Nica?’ I heard a knock on my door the following morning. ‘Can I come in?’
Anna came in and found me still in my nightshirt. She smiled, said good morning, then took the hairbrush off me. She sat on the bed and started to brush my hair.
I felt an immeasurable love warming my chest. Her hands touched me carefully, comfortingly, making me dream of a life of caresses and smiles. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
‘I’ve got a very important client next week,’ she started to tell me. ‘He wants me to supply the flowers for an event he’s organising at the Mangrove Club. There’ll be lots of people, and seeing the name of my shop among the suppliers will be like a dream come true.’
Her touch became uncertain, and she hesitated.
‘But, well…the client in question is a friend of Dalma’s. This wouldn’t have been possible if she hadn’t given them my name.’ Anna lowered her voice. ‘She’s helped me so much. I want to be able to thank her. I’d have never gotten such a big opportunity without her.’
I turned.
She was waiting for my reply, but as I stayed silent, she continued.
‘I haven’t forgotten what happened,’ she said sadly. ‘I haven’t forgotten what happened with Asia…There’s not a day when I don’t think about it. But they are important to me and Norman, Nica…They’ve shared moments with us that we’ll never forget.’ I sensed Alan’s shadow reflected in her eyes. ‘And so I wanted to ask you…I’d like to invite them over for…’
‘Anna,’ I interrupted her. ‘It’s fine.’
She stared at me with her piercing blue eyes.
That conversation made me realise how much she cared about me. But I bore no grudge against Asia. Despite what had happened, what I felt towards her wasn’t anger, but more a deep sorrow.
I didn’t want to compromise her relationship with Anna. I had never wanted that. I knew how much they loved each other and I didn’t want that to change because of me.
She held my face. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘You’re sure?’
I nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure.’
Anna exhaled shakily and her face broke into a smile. She stroked my cheek and I smiled back at her, basking in the glory of her touch.
She finished brushing my hair, asking my opinion on what she should cook. I told her that Norman would surely appreciate her famous gravy.
‘I’ll go and call Dalma,’ she announced as we got up, and she ushered me down to breakfast.
I headed downstairs. I felt light, fresh and bright. I felt happy. Those moments with her did my heart good. I loved the fact that she always asked my opinion.
My spirits raised, I lingered in the doorway to the kitchen, and my heart soared even more when I saw Rigel sitting at the table with a book and a mug. His head was resting on his knuckles and his dark, dishevelled hair around his face stood out against the soft morning light. His eyes silently scanned the words on the page in front of him. Anna told me that he had woken early because of a headache.
I lingered in silence to watch him without him noticing me. I loved doing that. He was simply himself in those moments. Parts of himself that he usually kept hidden became visible. Once again, I was entranced by his delicate yet fierce looks. His pure, white skin, the sharp line of his eyebrows, his sculpted cheekbones and wild eyes. His careless gestures, those lips that dispensed bites and stinging smiles to whoever dared to come near.
He turned the page, and I wondered where such a masterpiece could have come from.
I came closer, trying not to distract him. I circled the table, and took advantage of there being no one else there to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek.
Without warning.
When I straightened up, I saw he had frozen, his eyes startled.
He blinked and turned his face to me, surprised.
‘Good morning,’ I whispered tenderly. I gave him my sweetest, brightest smile, then picked up the coffee jug and moved towards the cabinet.
I felt his gaze still burning me.
‘Would you like more coffee?’ I asked.
Rigel stared at me for a moment, then nodded. I noticed his eyes looked more alert.
I moved back towards him and filled his cup. His eyes slid up my body to my face.
‘Here,’ I said softly.
I turned around, and his gaze fell on the silky reflection of my nightshirt.
I reached to get a cup for myself, but the shelf was empty. I stretched for the shelf above, but it was too high.
I stared at the row of cups, frowning, thinking about getting something to stand on, but the noise of a chair caught my attention.
Rigel stood up and approached me. He easily reached for a cup, taking his time to look down at me. His eyes fell on my face, lingering on my mouth and my wide, shining eyes.
‘Thank you,’ I smiled.
He held out a hand and I made to take the cup, but suddenly he seemed to change his mind. Lazily, he retracted his hand and hid the cup behind his back.
I stared at him, speechless.
‘Rigel…’ I pleaded. ‘Can I have it?’
I traced the outline of his arms with my fingers, trying in vain to reach the cup. I looked up at him again. Maybe it was just the reflection of the sun, but I thought I caught a glint of entertainment in his eyes.
I smiled indulgently, and he asked, in a low voice, ‘You want this?’
‘Yes, please…’
I reached round and drummed my fingers on his wrist, but he showed no sign of giving it to me. I placed a hand on his side and he watched me with his feline eyes.
‘Won’t you give me something in exchange?’ he murmured, hoarse and low.
His breath was warm and tempting. His body was hot under my fingers.
Since when had he been so playful?
This development excited and softened me. I tilted my head and brought his hand to my lips, without breaking eye contact. I kissed his skin. His fingers slowly rubbed against the mug.
Rigel stared at me with deep, liquid eyes. His fingers, still under mine, slid to my cheek. He stroked my lips with his thumb, and I slowly, sweetly kissed his fingertip, still looking at him, exposed and sincere.
He came closer, watching me with a burning attraction, as if he wanted to absorb everything about me – my scent, my lips, my eyes, my hands, even my innocence…
A loud noise made me jump.
We both froze.
Anna’s voice broke the spell that was between us. ‘Can someone get that?’ she shouted. ‘I think it’s the mailman!’
Rigel had closed his eyes; his face had turned to stone. When he opened them again, I felt a powerful, icy chill.
I went to answer the door. His arm blocked my way, pushing me back again. He overtook me and headed decisively towards the front door, dropping the cup on the table as he went.
The delivery boy pulled up the visor of his cap when Rigel opened the door. He must have been new: he looked uncertainly at the little card he was holding and scratched a pimple.
‘Hello…I have a delivery for this address,’ he announced. The little card with the snail poked out of a beautiful bunch of flowers. ‘Can you sign here?’
Rigel stared down at Lionel’s little drawing with cutting eyes. Then he looked back up at the delivery boy and moodily muttered, ‘I think there’s been a mistake.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the boy retorted. ‘It’s for Nicol…no, Ni…ca…Dover.’
Rigel flashed him a smile so polite it was frightening.
‘Who?’
‘Nica Dover…’
‘Never heard of her.’
The boy lowered the hand holding the flowers, blinking, bewildered.
‘B…but…’ he stammered. ‘The label on the mailbox says “Dover and Wilde” next to “Milligan”.’
‘Oh, them? They’re the previous owners,’ Rigel replied. ‘We’ve just moved. They don’t live here any more.’
‘Where do they live now?’
‘The cemetery.’
‘The…oh…’ The boy’s eyes opened wide. His glasses almost fell off. He pushed them up his nose and they fogged up.
‘Quite.’
‘Holy smoke, I didn’t know…Jeez, I’m sorry…’
‘They were elderly,’ Rigel informed him, clicking his tongue for dramatic effect. ‘Over a hundred, both of them.’
‘Ah…Well, good for them…Thanks all the s—’
‘You’re welcome.’
He slammed the door in his face.
And no pretentious bunch of flowers managed to cross the threshold.
That day, at least.
* * *
—
The evening when the Otters were coming for dinner came in the blink of an eye.
Anna was exuding an almost tangible cheeriness.
She looked at the tablecloth I was putting out, satisfied, then told me that she had bumped into Adeline on her way home.
Anna was very fond of her. She loved her kind manners and her sincere smiles. She knew how close Adeline and I were, and I got the impression that she was upset when Adeline had told her she was still looking for a job.
‘Such a sweet girl,’ she said, sliding the pie into the oven. ‘I lent her my umbrella because she was getting soaked – she didn’t even have a coat!’
She closed the oven door and adjusted the temperature, then took off the oven gloves, seeming somewhat troubled.
‘Where did you say she lives?’ she asked me.
‘At Saint Joseph’s,’ I replied. ‘She’s been there since she was transferred. Now that she’s of age she should leave, but until she finds a job…’
‘I’ve invited her over for dinner too,’ Anna said, slicing the bread.
Still holding the cutlery, I looked up at her.
‘I know it was just supposed to be us, but I couldn’t help it. She’s always so nice…and I know how close you are. It took some convincing for her to accept that it wouldn’t be a bother, but in the end, she said she’d come.’ She smiled gently. ‘Are you pleased?’
My heart would have said yes if my thoughts hadn’t betrayed me. Something inside me was still burning from the last time we had seen each other. On the one hand, hearing her say she felt nothing for Rigel had reassured me, but on the other, I feared this was not the truth. I had chosen to believe her, but the doubt still nagged at me.
Anna looked up at the clock. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late! Nica, you go and get ready, I’ll finish up here.’
I nodded and went upstairs, letting my hair down.
I picked up my bathrobe and clean underwear and went into the bathroom, where I got undressed and turned on the shower before stepping under the hot water.
I washed carefully and used scented shampoo on my hair, enjoying all the foam.
After rinsing myself off thoroughly, I got out, careful to not get the floor wet. I put on my bathrobe and fastened it around my waist. It was a bit small even for me, but it was a lilac colour that I’d always really liked.
I slipped on my panties, hopping on the spot. I tilted my head and looked at the white lace tracing the curve of my pelvis. This was the first time that I had worn underwear that wasn’t just plain cotton. It felt so soft against my skin.
Starting to rub my hair dry, I heard a voice calling me from downstairs.
‘Oh, Nica, I forgot the lacy placemats! Could you fetch them? They’re in the dresser in my bedroom!’
I rubbed the sleeve of my bathrobe over my forehead and heard Anna add, ‘The bottom drawer!’
Without a second thought, I tightened the bathrobe around my waist, left the bathroom and retrieved what she had asked for. I held them out to her, halfway down the stairs.
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were still in the shower! Thank you! Yes, these are perfect. Now, go and get dry, sweetheart, or you’ll get cold…’
She was worrying I’d get ill, so I went back into the bathroom, finding the door wide open.
I suppressed a little shiver and wrung my hair to get the remaining water out. As I started to brush my hair, I noticed the clean and neatly folded shirt next to the sink.
A black, button-up shirt.
A man’s shirt.
I blinked at it, speechless. It hadn’t been there before.
After a moment, I eventually noticed the presence behind me and whirled around.
I almost dropped the hairbrush.
Rigel was in the doorway. Immobile.
Under his dark hair, his black eyes were literally planted on me. In one hand he was holding his towel, and I realised he must have gone back to his room to fetch it, thinking that the bathroom was free.
‘I…I…’ I stammered, cheeks burning. ‘I hadn’t finished…’
I saw his hand slowly gripping the towel. My throat went dry, and I saw a glint of something raw in his eyes as they burned up my entire body: they slid over my trembling ankles, my wet thighs, the curve of my breasts and the exposed skin at my throat.
The sound of him taking a deep breath made my blood quiver. He looked me straight in the eyes and I swallowed under his white-hot gaze.
‘Rigel, the guests are arriving. Anna’s about the house and…’ I gripped the hairbrush. I peered around him into the landing, and suddenly realised that we were facing one another, predator and prey. ‘I need to leave,’ I blurted out.
Rigel was staring at me, a storm churning in his eyes, as if his mind was working at breakneck speed.
We seemed to have gone back to the beginning, back to when I was too scared to pass near him for fear he might maul me. Even though now it might be for different reasons…
‘Rigel,’ I tried to reason with him. ‘I need to get through.’
I hoped my voice didn’t sound too feeble and intimidated; he’d already told me what effect that had on him. But he just slightly squinted his eyes and then…smiled.
I’ve wanted to write to you many times, but this seemed the best way to do it.
I don’t remember clearly what happened the other night, but I can’t shake the feeling that I scared you. Did I? I’m sorry…
When can we talk? I miss you.
My hands were shaking. Every moment of what had happened flashed before my eyes like a scar: his lips, his hands, his arms constraining me, holding me still, my voice pleading with him.
In a sudden impulse, I tore the flowers from the vase, moved to the sink and flung open the cupboard underneath. I paused, holding the bouquet in midair, staring at the trash with trembling hands.
I gripped the stems, pressed my lips together. My throat tightened. I couldn’t do it.
Those flowers didn’t deserve it.
But there was something else.
Something, within me, the most ruined part of my heart, the part that the matron had deformed, couldn’t bring myself to hate him, destroy him, wipe him away.
I saw his drawing of the snail sticking out through the petals and couldn’t find the strength to chuck them.
I should have torn up that piece of card and thrown it away, but I couldn’t.
I had never known how to tear things.
Not even with all the tenderness in the world.
* * *
—
More wonderful bouquets arrived over the next few days, each one of them with the same little note with the drawing of a snail.
Anna put them in a vase for me for when I got home.
One afternoon, there was also a packet of crocodile-shaped gummies. I found myself squeezing it in my hands before shoving it in a drawer to get it out of my sight. The next day, there were more lying on the table, wrapped up with ribbon.
‘They’re from an admirer,’ Anna whispered one evening to Norman, who gave a conspiratorial ‘Ooh’.
Klaus, on the other hand, did not appreciate all the commotion. He hissed at the vases that Anna left on the furniture, and nibbled those that weren’t lucky enough to be placed out of harm’s way. He seemed to understand that they weren’t from Anna’s shop, but from someone else.
One evening, I heard a rustling in the kitchen. I turned the light on and found his yellow eyes staring at me, a white petal sticking out from under his whiskers.
‘Klaus,’ I murmured, exasperated. I approached, and he turned his ears back, continuing to munch defiantly on the flower. ‘Come on…You want another tummy upset?’
He wriggled away before I could lift him off the counter. For him, being picked up was probably a lot worse than an upset tummy.
I sighed quietly, looking at the bunch of white roses. I pulled out the flower that he had destroyed and turned it over in my hands. I already knew what the little note would say. I had stopped reading them because they just upset me.
I saw Rigel standing in the shadows near the door when I turned around. His black eyes, dark diamonds, fell on the white rose in my hands.
He hadn’t said a thing the last few days. But I knew what this meant. Getting closer to him had meant learning to interpret the silences he wrapped himself in.
‘This doesn’t mean anything,’ I whispered, before he could turn around. I didn’t want his traumas and suspicions to make him withdraw from me, but I knew they had marked his heart ever since he was a child.
‘But you haven’t thrown them away.’
He turned his back on me and I bit my lip, wishing I could tear down all the walls that still existed between us. Sometimes, they seemed like an endless staircase, full of cracks and broken steps designed to make me fall.
Sometimes, when I paused, exhausted, and looked up, I couldn’t see the top.
But I knew that he was there.
Alone.
And I was the only one who could reach him.
* * *
—
‘Nica?’ I heard a knock on my door the following morning. ‘Can I come in?’
Anna came in and found me still in my nightshirt. She smiled, said good morning, then took the hairbrush off me. She sat on the bed and started to brush my hair.
I felt an immeasurable love warming my chest. Her hands touched me carefully, comfortingly, making me dream of a life of caresses and smiles. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
‘I’ve got a very important client next week,’ she started to tell me. ‘He wants me to supply the flowers for an event he’s organising at the Mangrove Club. There’ll be lots of people, and seeing the name of my shop among the suppliers will be like a dream come true.’
Her touch became uncertain, and she hesitated.
‘But, well…the client in question is a friend of Dalma’s. This wouldn’t have been possible if she hadn’t given them my name.’ Anna lowered her voice. ‘She’s helped me so much. I want to be able to thank her. I’d have never gotten such a big opportunity without her.’
I turned.
She was waiting for my reply, but as I stayed silent, she continued.
‘I haven’t forgotten what happened,’ she said sadly. ‘I haven’t forgotten what happened with Asia…There’s not a day when I don’t think about it. But they are important to me and Norman, Nica…They’ve shared moments with us that we’ll never forget.’ I sensed Alan’s shadow reflected in her eyes. ‘And so I wanted to ask you…I’d like to invite them over for…’
‘Anna,’ I interrupted her. ‘It’s fine.’
She stared at me with her piercing blue eyes.
That conversation made me realise how much she cared about me. But I bore no grudge against Asia. Despite what had happened, what I felt towards her wasn’t anger, but more a deep sorrow.
I didn’t want to compromise her relationship with Anna. I had never wanted that. I knew how much they loved each other and I didn’t want that to change because of me.
She held my face. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘You’re sure?’
I nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure.’
Anna exhaled shakily and her face broke into a smile. She stroked my cheek and I smiled back at her, basking in the glory of her touch.
She finished brushing my hair, asking my opinion on what she should cook. I told her that Norman would surely appreciate her famous gravy.
‘I’ll go and call Dalma,’ she announced as we got up, and she ushered me down to breakfast.
I headed downstairs. I felt light, fresh and bright. I felt happy. Those moments with her did my heart good. I loved the fact that she always asked my opinion.
My spirits raised, I lingered in the doorway to the kitchen, and my heart soared even more when I saw Rigel sitting at the table with a book and a mug. His head was resting on his knuckles and his dark, dishevelled hair around his face stood out against the soft morning light. His eyes silently scanned the words on the page in front of him. Anna told me that he had woken early because of a headache.
I lingered in silence to watch him without him noticing me. I loved doing that. He was simply himself in those moments. Parts of himself that he usually kept hidden became visible. Once again, I was entranced by his delicate yet fierce looks. His pure, white skin, the sharp line of his eyebrows, his sculpted cheekbones and wild eyes. His careless gestures, those lips that dispensed bites and stinging smiles to whoever dared to come near.
He turned the page, and I wondered where such a masterpiece could have come from.
I came closer, trying not to distract him. I circled the table, and took advantage of there being no one else there to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek.
Without warning.
When I straightened up, I saw he had frozen, his eyes startled.
He blinked and turned his face to me, surprised.
‘Good morning,’ I whispered tenderly. I gave him my sweetest, brightest smile, then picked up the coffee jug and moved towards the cabinet.
I felt his gaze still burning me.
‘Would you like more coffee?’ I asked.
Rigel stared at me for a moment, then nodded. I noticed his eyes looked more alert.
I moved back towards him and filled his cup. His eyes slid up my body to my face.
‘Here,’ I said softly.
I turned around, and his gaze fell on the silky reflection of my nightshirt.
I reached to get a cup for myself, but the shelf was empty. I stretched for the shelf above, but it was too high.
I stared at the row of cups, frowning, thinking about getting something to stand on, but the noise of a chair caught my attention.
Rigel stood up and approached me. He easily reached for a cup, taking his time to look down at me. His eyes fell on my face, lingering on my mouth and my wide, shining eyes.
‘Thank you,’ I smiled.
He held out a hand and I made to take the cup, but suddenly he seemed to change his mind. Lazily, he retracted his hand and hid the cup behind his back.
I stared at him, speechless.
‘Rigel…’ I pleaded. ‘Can I have it?’
I traced the outline of his arms with my fingers, trying in vain to reach the cup. I looked up at him again. Maybe it was just the reflection of the sun, but I thought I caught a glint of entertainment in his eyes.
I smiled indulgently, and he asked, in a low voice, ‘You want this?’
‘Yes, please…’
I reached round and drummed my fingers on his wrist, but he showed no sign of giving it to me. I placed a hand on his side and he watched me with his feline eyes.
‘Won’t you give me something in exchange?’ he murmured, hoarse and low.
His breath was warm and tempting. His body was hot under my fingers.
Since when had he been so playful?
This development excited and softened me. I tilted my head and brought his hand to my lips, without breaking eye contact. I kissed his skin. His fingers slowly rubbed against the mug.
Rigel stared at me with deep, liquid eyes. His fingers, still under mine, slid to my cheek. He stroked my lips with his thumb, and I slowly, sweetly kissed his fingertip, still looking at him, exposed and sincere.
He came closer, watching me with a burning attraction, as if he wanted to absorb everything about me – my scent, my lips, my eyes, my hands, even my innocence…
A loud noise made me jump.
We both froze.
Anna’s voice broke the spell that was between us. ‘Can someone get that?’ she shouted. ‘I think it’s the mailman!’
Rigel had closed his eyes; his face had turned to stone. When he opened them again, I felt a powerful, icy chill.
I went to answer the door. His arm blocked my way, pushing me back again. He overtook me and headed decisively towards the front door, dropping the cup on the table as he went.
The delivery boy pulled up the visor of his cap when Rigel opened the door. He must have been new: he looked uncertainly at the little card he was holding and scratched a pimple.
‘Hello…I have a delivery for this address,’ he announced. The little card with the snail poked out of a beautiful bunch of flowers. ‘Can you sign here?’
Rigel stared down at Lionel’s little drawing with cutting eyes. Then he looked back up at the delivery boy and moodily muttered, ‘I think there’s been a mistake.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the boy retorted. ‘It’s for Nicol…no, Ni…ca…Dover.’
Rigel flashed him a smile so polite it was frightening.
‘Who?’
‘Nica Dover…’
‘Never heard of her.’
The boy lowered the hand holding the flowers, blinking, bewildered.
‘B…but…’ he stammered. ‘The label on the mailbox says “Dover and Wilde” next to “Milligan”.’
‘Oh, them? They’re the previous owners,’ Rigel replied. ‘We’ve just moved. They don’t live here any more.’
‘Where do they live now?’
‘The cemetery.’
‘The…oh…’ The boy’s eyes opened wide. His glasses almost fell off. He pushed them up his nose and they fogged up.
‘Quite.’
‘Holy smoke, I didn’t know…Jeez, I’m sorry…’
‘They were elderly,’ Rigel informed him, clicking his tongue for dramatic effect. ‘Over a hundred, both of them.’
‘Ah…Well, good for them…Thanks all the s—’
‘You’re welcome.’
He slammed the door in his face.
And no pretentious bunch of flowers managed to cross the threshold.
That day, at least.
* * *
—
The evening when the Otters were coming for dinner came in the blink of an eye.
Anna was exuding an almost tangible cheeriness.
She looked at the tablecloth I was putting out, satisfied, then told me that she had bumped into Adeline on her way home.
Anna was very fond of her. She loved her kind manners and her sincere smiles. She knew how close Adeline and I were, and I got the impression that she was upset when Adeline had told her she was still looking for a job.
‘Such a sweet girl,’ she said, sliding the pie into the oven. ‘I lent her my umbrella because she was getting soaked – she didn’t even have a coat!’
She closed the oven door and adjusted the temperature, then took off the oven gloves, seeming somewhat troubled.
‘Where did you say she lives?’ she asked me.
‘At Saint Joseph’s,’ I replied. ‘She’s been there since she was transferred. Now that she’s of age she should leave, but until she finds a job…’
‘I’ve invited her over for dinner too,’ Anna said, slicing the bread.
Still holding the cutlery, I looked up at her.
‘I know it was just supposed to be us, but I couldn’t help it. She’s always so nice…and I know how close you are. It took some convincing for her to accept that it wouldn’t be a bother, but in the end, she said she’d come.’ She smiled gently. ‘Are you pleased?’
My heart would have said yes if my thoughts hadn’t betrayed me. Something inside me was still burning from the last time we had seen each other. On the one hand, hearing her say she felt nothing for Rigel had reassured me, but on the other, I feared this was not the truth. I had chosen to believe her, but the doubt still nagged at me.
Anna looked up at the clock. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late! Nica, you go and get ready, I’ll finish up here.’
I nodded and went upstairs, letting my hair down.
I picked up my bathrobe and clean underwear and went into the bathroom, where I got undressed and turned on the shower before stepping under the hot water.
I washed carefully and used scented shampoo on my hair, enjoying all the foam.
After rinsing myself off thoroughly, I got out, careful to not get the floor wet. I put on my bathrobe and fastened it around my waist. It was a bit small even for me, but it was a lilac colour that I’d always really liked.
I slipped on my panties, hopping on the spot. I tilted my head and looked at the white lace tracing the curve of my pelvis. This was the first time that I had worn underwear that wasn’t just plain cotton. It felt so soft against my skin.
Starting to rub my hair dry, I heard a voice calling me from downstairs.
‘Oh, Nica, I forgot the lacy placemats! Could you fetch them? They’re in the dresser in my bedroom!’
I rubbed the sleeve of my bathrobe over my forehead and heard Anna add, ‘The bottom drawer!’
Without a second thought, I tightened the bathrobe around my waist, left the bathroom and retrieved what she had asked for. I held them out to her, halfway down the stairs.
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were still in the shower! Thank you! Yes, these are perfect. Now, go and get dry, sweetheart, or you’ll get cold…’
She was worrying I’d get ill, so I went back into the bathroom, finding the door wide open.
I suppressed a little shiver and wrung my hair to get the remaining water out. As I started to brush my hair, I noticed the clean and neatly folded shirt next to the sink.
A black, button-up shirt.
A man’s shirt.
I blinked at it, speechless. It hadn’t been there before.
After a moment, I eventually noticed the presence behind me and whirled around.
I almost dropped the hairbrush.
Rigel was in the doorway. Immobile.
Under his dark hair, his black eyes were literally planted on me. In one hand he was holding his towel, and I realised he must have gone back to his room to fetch it, thinking that the bathroom was free.
‘I…I…’ I stammered, cheeks burning. ‘I hadn’t finished…’
I saw his hand slowly gripping the towel. My throat went dry, and I saw a glint of something raw in his eyes as they burned up my entire body: they slid over my trembling ankles, my wet thighs, the curve of my breasts and the exposed skin at my throat.
The sound of him taking a deep breath made my blood quiver. He looked me straight in the eyes and I swallowed under his white-hot gaze.
‘Rigel, the guests are arriving. Anna’s about the house and…’ I gripped the hairbrush. I peered around him into the landing, and suddenly realised that we were facing one another, predator and prey. ‘I need to leave,’ I blurted out.
Rigel was staring at me, a storm churning in his eyes, as if his mind was working at breakneck speed.
We seemed to have gone back to the beginning, back to when I was too scared to pass near him for fear he might maul me. Even though now it might be for different reasons…
‘Rigel,’ I tried to reason with him. ‘I need to get through.’
I hoped my voice didn’t sound too feeble and intimidated; he’d already told me what effect that had on him. But he just slightly squinted his eyes and then…smiled.
