"Well, for starters I knew you wouldn’t dare go out with me if you knew that I knew," I reply, getting the expected unimpressed look from her for that. "But also I didn’t want to worry you. God, Ella, you’ve been the happiest I’ve ever seen you this past week. I didn’t want you worrying that I was going to blab and feel like you had to leave the country or something." Her sad expression seems to soften at that and she pulls her eyes from the table to look up at me again.
"You don’t want me, Curtis. No one should. I’m not safe to be around." Her voice is so quiet and so pained I have to strain my ears to hear her above the din. I shake my head emphatically.
"I really like you, Ella," I repeat. "You’re the best person I’ve met, ever, for a number of reasons. You’re intelligent, funny and beautiful. And if the past day that I’ve known about your secret has shown me anything, it’s that you are also incredibly strong. So I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, really, but I hope that doesn't make you think less of me."
There’s another loaded silence whilst she digests all of these compliments. She’s obviously not used to them and is blushing hard. She doesn’t seem to be surprised about anything I’ve said, but more curious, like she’s weighing me up, pros and cons. It’s starting to get a bit awkward after a while and the only thing I can do while she thinks is to drain my glass and try to seem like I’m not pressuring her in any way.
She finishes her drink too and then finally says, "Come on, why don’t you walk me home?"
I practically leap out of my seat to help her get her arms into her jacket properly, and shrug on my own. We take the short walk back to the station in silence, the crowds from the concert long since gone. I let her think. I can feel she’s mulling over her options in her head; I can’t help but wonder what those options are. Pretend like it never happened? Get rid of me quickly and painlessly so that no one would notice? I shake that thought out of my head. It’s unlikely that she’s the kind of Augur that would hurt other people, although admittedly I don’t know her as well as I like to think I do. From what I can tell there aren’t many that would actually hurt people, except the idiots I hear about in the news.
We board the Jubilee line, which is still fairly crowded as usual on a Friday night, so we have to stand. To my surprise, Ella holds onto my arm instead of the hand rail and I feel that same tingle course up my arm. Maybe she’s coming round to the idea that I’m not so bad after all. My stomach is starting to tie itself into knots thanks to the proposition of walking her home. I’ve never heard her mention her parents —does she live alone? Unusual for a nineteen-year-old. Would she invite me in? That thought makes my insides flip flop and I try to push the thought out of my mind. The idea of getting lucky with a girl that, up until less than an hour ago, hadn’t looked at me for more than a few seconds at a time seems incredibly unlikely. Plus, in her current mood, which I can’t quite decipher, the possibility of her dumping my lifeless body in a ditch so that I don’t tell anyone her secret is still entirely possible.
But when we emerge from the tube station she is still holding onto my arm, as if stabilising herself, and I realise she is gently guiding me in the direction of her house. I vaguely recall her telling me it’s twenty minutes between the station and her house, and the information surfaces now while we walk through the empty streets.
She hasn’t said a word since we left the pub, so I’m relieved when she finally breaks the silence.
"Thank you," she says, and I realise that I’ve been holding my breath for a long time.
"What for?" I exhale.
"For not being like everyone else, I guess. For not immediately deciding I was dangerous or evil. For giving me some sort of a chance. And for telling me you knew. That’s actually pretty brave of you. Oh, and for tonight, which has been the most fun I’ve had a in a long time."
"That’s a lot of things to be thanking me for," I grin. "But you’re welcome. I guess I should be the one thanking you for giving me a chance. I mean, if you’re not planning to kill me, that is," I smile nervously. She gives me a wry laugh in response.
"The night is young as far as that goes," she winks. "But in all seriousness, I can’t invite you in just yet. My, er, flat mate probably wouldn’t appreciate an unexpected visitor…"
I notice that we’ve stopped outside a fairly plain-looking Victorian house that must be split into flats. It sits on a street of identical terraced houses, lit by the yellow street lamps, the houses obscured by large Plane trees on each side.
She lets go of my arm and steps through the gate, which leads up a short path to her front door. The house is slightly concealed by large bushes and there’s a moped in the front garden which looks yellow in the eerie phosphorescent glow. There’s a light on in the hall and I can hear voices coming from inside, so rather than make any presumptions I stay right where I am on the pavement. She pulls her keys out and turns to me.
"Goodnight, Curtis. Thanks for walking me home."
"Ah, there you go again, thanking me for things," I joke, but my heart sinks now that she’s let go of me. I raise my hand and give her a little wave, standing there like a pillock while I wait for her to unlock her door. I assume that the correct thing to do is to wait until she’s safely indoors, but in practice it seems a bit creepy. I see her place her key in the lock, hesitate for a moment and then spin around, bridging the gap between us in three steps. She leans up to me and kisses me softly on the lips. I’m caught off-guard, but it only takes me a second to respond, putting my arms around her and kissing her back. I breathe her in and feel the tingling sensation run through my face and into my chest this time. She reaches her arms around my neck and pulls me in tighter, the cold metal of the keys still in her hand pushing against the back of my head. For what could be several minutes I feel completely consumed by her. Finally, she pulls away and looks at me with that familiar sparkle back in her eyes. She kisses me quickly on the cheek, then runs up and unlocks her door. Loud noises spill out and she hurriedly steps inside, giving me a wave before closing it behind her.
I stand there slightly stunned for a moment. A wind picks up and ruffles my hair, and something stirs me to move. All the way home I tingle.
CHAPTER 4
I wake up to the lingering feeling of my face tingling. I think I was dreaming about Ella but as I try to grasp the fleeting remainders of the thought it disappears. I’m tempted to pinch myself, just to see if I’m really awake and if last night really happened, but the memory is so clear in my mind that there’s no way I imagined it. Her lips moving against mine, her smell, the feel of her hands on my neck. I sigh happily as my alarm clock goes off, but rather than hit it repeatedly to snooze I leap out of bed, despite the late night. I shower, dress and race downstairs to the familiar Saturday morning scene.
"Morning, love. I haven't done your breakfast yet —you're a bit earlier than usual," Mum says.
"Don't worry Mum, I've got to be at the restaurant early, so I'll grab something on the way," I reply, kissing her on the cheek.
"It was a late one last night —how was the concert?" Dad asks, sounding genuinely interested for some reason.
"Brilliant, Dad. Best one I've ever been to," I smile and throw my coat on.
"It's icy out today darling, pop your gloves and hat on, won't you?" Mum warns. I try not to roll my eyes and dig my gloves out of the cupboard under the stairs where all the coats are kept.
"Don’t forget we’re off to Spain on Monday," she adds as I retrieve them.
"Got it, Mum. I’ve got to go, alright?" As I turn to wave goodbye to them both I notice yet another newspaper headline Dad is reading, splashed across the front page.
SAFETY CONCERNS
AS AUGURS ATTACK PM
I want to get out of the house but something about the line draws me in. I read the article over Dad’s shoulder. An Augur allegedly set fire to the Prime Minister's car, although the PM wasn't in it at the time but had sent her chauffeur to collect her husband and son from their home
. A young male had stood in front of the car at a red traffic light and placed his hands on the bonnet. Witnesses then reported that smoke began billowing from the engine. The chauffeur was quick-thinking enough to move the PM's husband and son from the car to safety before it went completely up in flames. No one was injured but the family were being treated for shock.
I sigh angrily. There are obviously antisocial Augurs just as much as there are antisocial Normals. Why the newspapers don’t bother to mention that beats me.
It makes me worry that someone is trying to goad the PM into triggering the anti-Augur laws sooner and what that might mean for Ella.
"It's bloody ridiculous," says Dad, taking my sigh as an indication that I am upset with the news story for different reasons. "How can they let Augurs run around the streets when they are an obvious threat to society?"
I shouldn’t say anything, but the anger inside my chest flares. "Oh my God. I bet you think they should be locked up or given dog collars or something," I say, venomously.
"Well, it wouldn't hurt," Dad bristles in response.
"Unbelievable! Don't you think it would hurt the human beings that have to call themselves Augurs?" Dad gives me a warning look. I’m overstepping some precious invisible boundary once again, which I’ve done many times before and has never ended well for either of us.
"Didn't you say you had to be off early, love?" Mum chimes in gently, trying to ease the tension. I give a superficial nod and an angry glare at Dad before storming out the door. As I close it behind me I hear her say, "You and your big bloody mouth. He was the happiest I'd seen him in months…" but rather than linger to hear what he has to say for himself I walk briskly to the restaurant.
I swear I have to move out. After Christmas, maybe. But that’s only a few weeks away, so it might have to be in the new year at this rate.
I try not to think about the world’s problems. Or more specifically Augur problems. I can think about one in particular, and that’s Ella. My heart does a little leap when I think about our kiss last night. She put her heart and soul into it, and I hope that I made it seem that way too. It was a bit like having the wind knocked out of me on a rollercoaster. Scary, exhilarating and a bit hard to breathe. God knows she’s the only thing keeping me going at the moment.
Mum was right; it is cold, and I pull my collar up around my ears and thrust my hands deep into my pockets. The last of the leaves are being blown off the trees by a keen wind and they crunch underfoot in the frost.
The high street is quieter than usual thanks to the cold and earliness of the hour. There’s only one or two other people out and about.
By the time I reach the restaurant I have managed to push Dad’s narrow-mindedness out of my head and have filled it with thoughts of Ella. There had been no ‘let’s do this again sometime’ conversation and a small pang of fear makes me wonder if she will have completely regretted it afterwards.
But when I walk in the back door of the kitchen she is standing by the ovens deep in conversation with Federico. When she spots me walk in her face lights up. There is no sign of doubt at all, just that beautiful sparkle that I find myself constantly looking for.
I say good morning to the both of them, trying not to grin like an idiot as I squeeze past, touching her arm lightly as I go by.
I set up the dining room as usual and she joins me shortly afterwards, happily slipping into our routine of laying out the cutlery, folding napkins and polishing wine glasses. We don’t say much, but there’s no need. Apart from the fact that I wouldn’t want to talk about last night in front of anyone that might be listening, Mr. Gregorio included, we are happy enough just to share each other’s company and work together.
I look back at the past few months, no, years of my life. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I didn’t even realise I was miserable before. And all I’m doing is waiting tables. Maybe I’m too easy to please, but this is the best feeling ever as far as I’m concerned.
The day is hectic. In the run up to Christmas Mr. Gregorio has decided to start a seasonal menu, and the punters seem to be completely up for drowning themselves in turkey with all the trimmings and festive alcohol whenever possible.
We don’t even have time to close for lunch, and Ella and I have to take it in turns to eat in the back of the kitchen whilst Mr. Gregorio covers for each of us in turn on the restaurant floor.
There’s an odd incident during the dinner shift where a group of middle-aged women come in for a ladies drinks evening and one of them drinks so much wine she falls off her chair, but Ella and I recover her quickly and send them on their way, giggling and cackling all the way home.
When we finally lower the bolts on the front door, Ella makes sure that there’s no one within earshot before engaging with me.
"I’m sorry I haven’t had much of a chance to say anything today," she says.
"Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s been manic. Did you sleep okay after last night?" I ask. I know for me at least it took me ages to calm down and when I finally did I slept like a log.
"Yeah, really well, thanks. Last night was amazing. For the first time in a long time I feel a little lighter. Like some huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Like I can finally speak to someone that isn’t just my sister," she says and takes my hand in hers. For some reason the gesture surprises me and my heart does a little flip flop. I mentally tell myself to calm the hell down.
"You have no idea how good it is to hear that," I say, smiling. "I didn’t know you had a sister, what’s she like?"
"Oh, er, she’s a bit… interesting. But can we not spoil this moment by talking about her? I thought maybe we could do something on Monday afternoon," she suggests.
"Like a date?" I tease, and she punches me playfully on the arm.
"Like a date," she whispers, her lips just a few inches from my ear sending another shiver up my spine.
"Are you sure? I mean, spending all this time with me outside of work you might get bored of me pretty soon," I joke, internally praying that she won’t.
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to spend more time with you, silly. So, do you want to hang out?"
"Couldn’t think of anything better to do with my Monday," I grin. Honestly, I can’t think of anything better to do with the rest of my life than spend time with her. Hopeless, I silently tell myself.
I walk her to the bus stop, even though she tells me not to bother, and wait to see her off. I’m hoping for a revisit of our kiss, but she merely squeezes my hand and waves goodbye. Even that doesn’t stop me from feeling elated to be in her company.
As I watch the bus take off and see her take a seat through the back window the hair stands up on the back of my neck. I wonder if it’s a delayed reaction from her touching me but this is something else. I begin to get the feeling that someone is watching me. I turn around and look up and down the street. Other than a pedestrian huddled over and walking home there isn’t much happening on the high street. In the headlights of a car I notice two orbs glowing in the darkness of an alleyway. What are they? I move closer for a better look. It takes me a moment to register that a pair of eyes are staring at me intently. I try not to jump in fright when I realise that it’s just a very black cat.
"Jesus, you scared me," I say to it as I pass it. It gives me an unimpressed look before proceeding to clean itself. I must be losing it. Evidently, dating-not-dating an Augur has put me on edge.
I walk home, collar turned up, and try to ignore the continued sensation that I’m being watched. I think I see another pair of glowing eyes scanter down the street as I turn into my road, but I assume that it’s probably a fox. The ’cigarette man’, as I have mentally dubbed him, is not standing outside his house but there’s a light on in the window upstairs and I notice a twitch of curtains as I walk by. I wonder if I’m becoming paranoid. Now that I know Ella’s secret it is, of course, mine to keep as well, and I surmise that the weight of it is taking its toll already.
As I op
en my front door I notice the blue glow coming from the living room. It’s late so I imagine that Dad as fallen asleep in front of the TV again. I quietly remove my coat and walk in, expecting to see him sprawled out on the sofa with the remote dangling from one hand. But the room is empty. The TV is silent, but the pictures show a late-night news program of people protesting, some for the freedom of Augurs, others against it, outside the Houses of Parliament. I go to turn it off when I notice a note, taped crudely over the button. It has my name on it and I yank it off, unfolding it in my cold hands.
Curtis. I know you know. Keep away from Ella. Or else.
I don’t really know what to make of it, but it sends a chill through my body all the same. What the hell does it even mean? The only people that have access to my house are Mum and Dad and I doubt they would write a note like this. It’s in a child-like handwriting that I don’t recognise. I scrunch it up in my hand and turn the TV off. I don’t know whether to toss it in the bin or keep it, but I decide that just in case one day there’s an investigation into my mysterious murder it might come in handy as evidence.
I shake my head at my own morbid joke as I head up to bed. Not even I’m laughing at that one.
One thing I do know though, is that there’s no way I can tell Ella about this. If she realises I’m getting threatening notes about her she’ll freak out immediately and either stop talking to me, or disappear, or worse.
I shove the crumpled note in a drawer in my room and get ready for bed. Laying my head on my pillow in the darkness, I try to clear my mind of threatening notes, black cats and weird men standing on doorsteps and instead try to fill it with thoughts of her. But when I do finally get to sleep I dream that we’re running, this time from the crazy robe-wearing cigarette man and his fire-breathing black cat. Ella is trying to drag me along, but I weigh ten tons and she has to leave me behind to save herself. Then a woman’s voice that I don’t recognise comes from somewhere and says I told you so, and I fall into blackness.
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