Tears of Ink (Tears of ... Book 1)

by Anna Bloom

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Come tomorrow. Then you won’t get a bollocking from the old man.”

  I laugh, but it’s pathetic and small.

  “See you tomorrow, Dan.”

  “Good luck, Faith.”

  I hang up the phone and send Eli a quick message.

  Faith Hitchin: Al’s not doing good. I’ll have to go tomorrow.

  I wait a moment to see if I get a response. When one doesn’t instantly vibrate my phone, I leave it behind on the side and get up to slip on some clothes. I’ve got to finish my centrepiece and I have to move the rest of the exhibition. It’s going to be a busy day.

  Damien calls me at about three. “Where do you want this frame? It weighs a fucking ton.”

  “You need to grow some muscles. I’ll meet you on the drive and we can carry it together. I’ll bring the brawn.” He swears at me as I hang up, which I’m sure isn’t a professional way to talk to a client.

  I wave as I crunch over the gravel and find him balancing the frame out of the back of a transit van. The frame is wrapped in a black velvet covering which can only be a good thing. “Thanks, Damien. I appreciate this so much.”

  “It’s fine, you can give Whitlocks all the exclusive pieces you are going to make off the back of this venture.”

  “That reminds me, did you know it was Elijah Fairclough who bought all my pieces?”

  He shrugs. “Who cares, so long as they sell?”

  I can’t argue with that logic.

  We both turn as Lewis crunches across the gravel. “Do you guys need some muscle?” Damien’s eyes light with glee as he takes in Lewis’ strong build.

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “Where’s Tabitha?” I ask Lewis.

  “In the kitchen.” He nods his head. “She’s not feeling great.”

  “Okay, she better not leave me to walk into this ball by myself. Can you guys manage to get this to the painting studio?”

  They both nod, and I leave them to seek out Tabitha. She’s got to help me get into that white dress without making a hash of it.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I ask as I step into the comforting familiarity of the kitchen. It’s just Tabs, Elaine must be busy somewhere. Tabitha’s eyes are red-rimmed. “What’s going on, have you and Lewis had a row again?”

  There are a lot of teenage hormones in charge of their blooming relationship. Makes me kind of glad the last thing I wanted at her age was a boyfriend.

  “I’m tired.” She sags a little. “And Mother is being a bitch.”

  “Why? And do you mean more of a bitch than usual?”

  This makes Tabitha smile, but it doesn’t last long. “She’s sending me to finishing school. I mean seriously, of all the bloody things. Why can’t I just get a normal job, like a normal girl? I don’t know why everything to do with the Faircloughs has to always be so over the top.”

  “Finishing school? Is that still even a thing?” I perch on a chair and grab her hand. My stomach plummets. Are they saying they will send her to stop Elijah being with me? Has he told them already? Sweat slicks my palms and I wipe them on my tatty jeans.

  “Eli will sort it, you know he will.”

  I say the words, but inside I’m tangled into knots. Will Eli sort it when he could be cut off at any point?

  All this is because of me.

  Is this what love costs?

  I blow a breath of air from my mouth and push back my hair. “Do you want to help me get the ballroom ready?”

  “Sure.” She pushes back from the table, but she looks green.

  “You’re not well enough, don’t worry about it.” I place a soothing hand on her shoulder, but she shakes her head.

  “It’s okay. You still haven’t told me what you are putting in there anyway.”

  “I’m putting all Elijah’s paintings in there. He’s going to be the main artist.”

  Tabitha holds her hand to her mouth. “But that’s a secret. Mum’s always said.”

  I shake my head and shrug. “Some secrets aren’t meant to be kept.”

  Three hours later the ballroom is ready. By the time I’d put all Eli’s paintings pride of place, and surrounded them by the others from the project, it was too late for Jennifer to say anything. Although the look on her face said it all.

  There is no hiding the Eli Fairclough swirled as a signature at the bottom of every canvas.

  The roses, dressed in an eye catching and dramatic gilt frame, are at pride of place under the curved double staircase.

  My own centrepiece is in the middle. A heart made of yin and yang glass pieces, sandblasted until the ruby red is iridescent and then held together with smelted gold.

  I’ve never created anything like it. Never would have tried without Elijah. At three feet tall, the freestanding glass heart is the biggest and most unique thing I’ve ever created.

  Gerard nods at it. “You should have saved it for your third-year finals.”

  “Gerard, I’m not finishing remember?”

  He shakes his head. “I think you will.”

  I wave my hand at him and turn away. I’m not getting into it now. I’ve got a ball to get ready for.

  Back in my room I check my phone, but before I get a chance to log into my messages there’s a tap on my door.

  He’s here. I leap for the latch only to be disappointed when it’s Saskia standing at the other side. “Hey.”

  “Expecting someone else?” She smirks a little and I stick my tongue out.

  “Nope.”

  She breezes into my pink room and looks about. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”

  “Why are you here helping me? Haven’t you got to get ready yourself?”

  “I want to see you in that dress and make sure you knock them all off their feet.” She looks at my hand. “Nice diamond by the way.”

  I grab the ring and swirl it around my finger. “It’s onyx.”

  She laughs and looks closer. “I’m no jeweller, but I know my diamonds, and that, my friend is a massive one.”

  The ring winks at me and I stare at in horror. “A diamond? Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Shit, it’s massive.”

  It really is ridiculously massive.

  “About four grand’s worth I’d say, so don’t lose it when you’re drunk later.”

  I grab my phone and send another message.

  Faith Hitchin: A diamond? I can’t keep it.

  I’m relieved when he answers. He’s been quiet all day and really, I was expecting him back by now.

  Eli Jones: Well, it’s yours to keep.

  I don’t have time to answer anything else because Saskia takes charge and pushes me into the shower room. Apparently, I stink.

  The white satin pools at my feet. Saskia bought me a gift of some white satin Manolo Blahnik’s which I’m sure cost as much as my dress.

  I wish I wasn’t going into the ball by myself.

  But fuck it. I’m a big girl.

  The doors open, and I glide through. All eyes are on me, on my skin, but I don’t care. I see Dylan and Maisie over by the bar and give them a wave. Maisie gives me a thumbs up, which I think is a compliment. I can’t see Tabitha though, or Lewis for that matter, but then there are lots of people, the room is busy and it’s hard to focus—maybe they are here somewhere. Then I sense the blues, bright and intense. He gives me a small smile as he talks to a group of men in tuxedos, although none of them rock the tux with the intensity Eli does. That man could look good in a paper bag, and right now the black tux fitted and cut to perfection along his tall broad form is far from a bag you’d put groceries in.

  He looks busy, and nerves put me on edge, so I don’t step forward and greet him.

  Jennifer works the room and I take a moment to watch her do her thing. She’s perfection as she glides in black, and touches people on the arm when she greets them and makes them all think they are special. When she sees me her face falters. I kind of thought we’d got to the poin
t of being okay, but then I don’t know what Eli has said to her since last night. The silver bob of Connie Grandbaronessy comes into view and she whispers in her daughter’s ear. Jennifer’s eyes glance at me, briefly, before they both turn away.

  Fine. I could worry about it. But truth is, I can’t be bothered, Eli has told me how he feels and that’s all that matters to me. I smile a little to myself and step further into the room ready to mingle. This is my ball, my art, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows.

  I double check the placement of my centrepiece. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of a piece before. I glance at the handsome man in the tux, whose lips I want to kiss again. I would never have made that without him, the idea would never have come to me. I’m smug knowing that he has my ying and yang on his skin forever.

  When I don’t find anyone to talk to and I can’t see Damien from Whitlocks, or sadly anyone from the Tate Modern to launch myself at, I find my way to Gerard who’s talking to a woman in gold lace. He waves me forward and I turn away from the blues and step up with a smile.

  “This is the woman you want,” Gerard says with a small wave in my direction. “This is the enormously talented Faith Hitchin.” He turns to me. “Faith, this is Angela Bartlett, Channel Four’s Head of Arts.”

  “Channel Four?” I’m confused. I stop myself from saying I thought Sky were coming.

  Angela smiles. She’s smooth and serene. Her pale blonde hair is neatly tied in a chignon and matches the pale gold of her dress perfectly. Seamlessly, she drops her fingers into her pale gold clutch and hands me a card.

  “I hope we can talk, Faith. I’ve got some big ideas.”

  “Big ideas? I’m sorry, I’m confused.” I shake my head and stare in bewilderment between her and Gerard. Gerard is grinning—which is really bloody annoying.

  “Oh, yes,” Angela continues. “We have the Bake Off now, I’m thinking something along the lines of an Art Off.”

  “Fart off? I’m sorry?” I can’t help myself.

  Gerard laughs loudly, but then downs most of his glass of champagne.

  Angela smiles, and I’m honestly surprised to find her smile genuine. “Well the title needs work, I’ll admit.”

  My mouth opens in horror. “Oh, crap, was that actually an idea for a show?”

  With a high laugh, she pats me on the arm. “If you want to open a discussion, I’d love to see you… next week, maybe?”

  I go to say yes, before my doubts and fears can eat away at my future, but then I remember Al and the fact I should really be with him right now. “I’m going to be home for a while I think, but when I come to back to London that would be great.”

  Her gaze sweeps the building. “It’s an impressive display.”

  I nod, and a deep pool of pride overwhelms me. “I just put it together; the paintings are Elijah Fairclough’s.” I raise my voice slightly so more people can hear. There’s a murmur around the room and then people begin to move around the easels and canvases.

  A brush against my elbow pulls my attention and I know it’s him before I’ve even turned around.

  “Hi.” I blush as his eyes sweep along the skin skimming white satin.

  “Hi.”

  Eyes are on us from all around the room.

  I wave to the retreating shape of Angela. “That was Channel Four.” I grin at him. “This is mad.”

  If I expect him to smile it doesn’t come. “Thank you for using my paintings.”

  “Eli.” A cold shiver crawls up my spine. I place my hand on his chest. His heart thumps below my palm. Be dammed who can see. This is nearly over. He loves me.

  He nods. “I think this will open some doors for you, Faith.”

  “Us, Eli. Us.”

  “Faith, I need to—”

  Our attention is pulled by the band striking up an up-tempo fanfare.

  His face drops. “I would have liked to dance with you in that dress,” he says. I meet his eyes to ask him what he means, but Jennifer is on the small stage at the end of the ballroom calling for everyone’s attention with the clink of two champagne flutes.

  “Thank you everyone for joining us.”

  There’s a murmur of responses. She looks regal up there in floor-length black. Small gems glitter across the full skirt of her gown. I’m sure her gaze rests on me for a moment, on my hand on Eli’s chest with my giant diamond sparking under the lights.

  That reminds me, I need to discuss the ring with him again.

  “What a glorious evening this has been. The brain child of my wonderful and talented son, Elijah.” There’s a cheer for Elijah and my pool of pride doubles in size. “To realise he’s been hiding this talent all these years, keeping his gift a secret.” She shakes out her honey hair. “That all changes tonight. I’m proud to announce the Fairclough Trust for Art and Design. The first recipient of which will be our own Faith Hitchin, the leader of this year’s event.” There is absolutely no mistaking her emphasis on this.

  I glance up at Eli. His face is a mask. Closed and empty.

  Jennifer continues as I give a small wave to all the people who have craned their necks to get a look at me. “Tonight, we are not just celebrating the end of a wonderful event, one of which I’m so proud to be involved with.” Is she kidding me? I turn to roll my eyes at Eli, but his face is a little on the green side, strained. There’s a pulse thudding along the golden skin of his throat. I lean a little closer to ask him if he feels ill. Maybe he’s got what Tabitha has? Jennifer is still chiming her clear-cut tones into the microphone. “Elijah, my darling. Sienna, Sweetheart. Come up here so everyone can see you.”

  “Elijah, darling, shall we?” A vision in red steps between us. It’s her. I’ll see you both at the ball…

  Why is she being called up onto stage? It should be me…unless…

  Oh, God.

  He’s lied.

  The world tilts.

  My hands fall to my sides and I look into his face.

  Those blues that have taken me apart and made me change everything stare back at me with fathomless depths.

  “I’m sorry.” The words fall from his lips, but I don’t really register them. Two words. I’m sorry.

  Jennifer is still trilling away. “We are so delighted to re-announce the engagement of Elijah and Sienna. What a stunning couple they make and we know the timing is perfect this time for the happy couple.”

  I stumble back. My heart splinters.

  I can’t stop looking at him though. The liar. The traitor.

  He lied to me.

  How long has this been fact? Him and her?

  I smooth my dress, breathing in deep.

  More fool me.

  Sienna links her arm through his, just like I did last night out in the garden, and I watch as they take to the stage and Jennifer air-kisses them. Eli is smiling, waving at the crowd.

  It’s like I don’t exist.

  Like this has all been nothing.

  I step away, my chest labouring as I try to breathe. My heart cracks and aches until I want to stop breathing.

  I’ve let another man hurt me.

  The red glimmer of my glass heart catches my eye. Fuck, how foolish have I been? Did I think this was a fairy tale? Did I really believe in a prince on a white horse?

  I know better.

  In three steps, I’m next to the heart. My own is pounding and squeezing.

  “Faith, don’t.” It’s his voice that cuts through the chatter. How fucking dare he?

  I push at the heart, so it topples off balance, and then I watch in slow motion as it shatters into a million tiny red shards. Gold and red destroyed across the floor.

  “Faith.” Gerard tries to grab my arm. “Don’t throw everything away.”

  I don’t listen though. I walk. I hold my head high and I walk away, and never, ever, will I allow any man to lie to me again.

  “Faith.” Elijah’s fingers electrify my skin as he rushes behind me and tries to catch a hold of my hand.

  H
e’s too late.

  I’m already gone.

  The tear of ink on my finger glints as I steal back to my room and lock the door.

  It only takes me moments to pack. A few clothes stuffed into a bag, the same as I arrived with.

  Tears course down my face and I swipe at them as I try to see through the pools gathering along my lashes.

  I slide off the dress and stuff that in too, not worried about creases. I’ll burn the damn thing, I don’t care how much it cost.

  I slide on my familiar jeans and vest, then I pick up my phone. On the screen is a message. The one I’ve been dreading.

  Dan: He’s gone.

  And then everything I know falls apart and I know I will never forgive Elijah Fairclough for being the man to finally bring me down.

  To be continued …

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  Acknowledgments

  As always these are the hardest part of any book to write. There are so many people to thank in the process of what I do.

  After a year filled with empty void of a lack of words to suddenly find myself inspired with characters again was a welcome relief.

  That inspiration came in the form of Ally Sky, who’s stories, life and love reignited my love of the written word and inspired me to create a book that not only am I in love with, but also immensely proud.

  With love to Andrea, I always feel every manuscript of mine should appear with wine and chocolates to see you through the mess I create. Thank you for understanding my words even when I don’t.

  Nikki and Elena, thank you for your sharp eyes and nit picking!

  My tribe of author friends who are with me every day and carry me in my darkest moment. My Indie girls and Lianne, and Nikki as always have a special place in everything I do.