“What makes you so sure she’ll hire me?” I asked, following Grant out into the hallway. The dim lighting did nothing to chase away the shadows that clung to the walls, giving the hallway a hushed sort of feel. Almost like you should whisper, so as to not disturb the air around you. Goose bumps broke out over my arms, racing up my neck to make my scalp prickle. I might have been walking around in the belly of a church, but the eeriness that came from it wasn’t something I could shake.
Grant, unaware of my discomfort, slapped his hand against my shoulder and squeezed. “Trust me, she needs the help. Right now, it’s only her and another girl working the front. She’ll not only hire you, but she’ll probably put you right to work. Just remember your cover story and do everything you and your southern charm can to get in good with her.”
“What if she asks me what school I want to attend?” I hadn’t had a chance to scope out the city, let alone the schools.
“Take your pick. There’s the University of Glasgow and several other schools for arts. While I’m getting your work Visa ready, you can look up the area and acquaint yourself with the different schools in the area. Pick one and research it so that you know what you’re talking about when she puts the questions to you, because she will.”
BRENDA HAD HIRED ME ON the spot and put me right to work, just as Grant had said she would two weeks ago. Since then, I’d worked almost every single day because Kirsten, her other employee, had a baby with health issues. Brenda, being the softhearted woman she was, never got angry with Kirsten about the days she was left shorthanded. Instead, she jumped in to fill her place and gave me more hours.
The coffee shop didn’t do a ton of business, but there were times when it did get more than one patron at a time. But still, I wondered how she kept it going with the lack of revenue coming in, until she asked me to help her with the post.
What Brenda lacked in patrons to the coffee shop, she made up for in online orders of tea. Enough to keep her comfortably afloat and the doors open for one more day, she’d told me one day as we made our way to the post office.
I had to hand it to her; she was at least doing everything she could to keep The Grounded Bean open. But she was running herself into the ground in the process. Dark circles stood out prominently under her tired eyes as she tried to juggle everything on her own.
More often than not, I was struck with a guilty conscious. Brenda might be related to Robert de Fleur, but for everything he was, she definitely wasn’t.
The bell over the door jingled, cutting off my thoughts. I opened my mouth to welcome whomever it was that stepped through the door, but found my voice failing me as a pair of moss-green eyes locked with mine. Holy shit.
I cleared my throat, getting my reaction under control as Brenda swept in from the back, pulling the girl into a hug. Exclaiming over her arrival, Brenda led her past the counter and into her office.
My gut clenched. Brenda’s niece had arrived.
I'D FAILED. THERE WAS NO other way to look at it. What was supposed to be the launch of my independence had crashed and burned around me, leaving me with no choice but to tuck my tail and return home.
It had been going so well too. I’d taken my meager savings and set out to see the world. I was a modern-day gypsy moving from place to place without a care in the world as to where my journey took me, only that I was moving when the urge struck. I’d work here and there to help replenish what I’d spent, and just keep moving.
I made it longer than most. Carefully spending only what was necessary, and saving everything else, was how I kept my journey going.
Leaving Scotland behind was one of the easiest decisions I ever made. It wasn’t because I didn’t like Scotland; I just wanted to see more. Do more. Be more.
Scotland would forever be my safety net, welcoming me back after a long journey and taking me in as if I’d never left her. Deep down, I knew I’d eventually return home. I just never thought it would be so soon.
I slid the last of my money across the ticketing counter with a long, drawn-out sigh. Bitterness rolled through me as I thought about the tidy stash of money I’d kept so closely guarded. Betrayed by a person I’d considered a friend. I should have known better. Instead, I was left to suffer the fool.
I’d let her in. I’d chosen to travel with her. Safety in numbers, it was said. We split the cost of a lot of things, making it somewhat more affordable for both of us. She’d never once led me to believe I had anything to worry about. I’d thought I could trust her. I had been so very, very wrong.
She’d called herself Liv, short for Olivia. A Russian immigrant backpacking her way through the United Kingdom. I’d met her in Dublin outside a small pub where she’d been shoved out the front door as she begged for work. I’d felt bad for her.
Together, we traveled to Northern Ireland where I found work at a small bookshop just around the corner from our apartment and struck up a deal with the owner. I’d help get the place cleaned up and sorted, and at the end of the week, I’d get paid.
I worked my ass off for four days. There wasn’t a speck of dirt in sight. I’d made sure of it. The owner, a rounded, spectacled man bent with arthritis, had been so impressed with the way his shop looked that he’d paid me early and told me not to worry about coming in that Friday.
I’d given myself a silent pat on the back and headed back to the apartment with my money, desperate for a shower. Lotion for my reddened hands wouldn’t come amiss either. They’d taken a beating over the last four days. But I’d come back to an empty apartment, finding a note from Liv on the worn, Formica tabletop.
“Gone to the market,” it read. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn’t had time for breakfast since the battery had died in the alarm clock sometime in the middle of the night. With any luck, Liv would be back by the time I cleaned up. Gathering a stack of clean clothes, I headed to the communal bathroom. Hours later, with no sign of Liv, I set out to look for her, checking all the local markets.
There’d been no sign of her, which led to a sinking feeling in my gut. I raced back to the apartment and went straight to my backpack, finding my wallet empty. My heart was broken.
My chest tightened just thinking about it. Anger bubbled under the layers of hurt and resentment. Friends didn’t steal from friends. And Liv, while acting like a friend, had deceived me, making me bitter against the thought of ever having another friend again.
Thinking back on it, I wondered how long I played the sucker. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. Not when what was done, was done, and I was going home. I was just lucky I had money in my pocket when she’d stolen my savings and took off.
What was the point? When those who claimed to like you could turn on you so easily?
“Will that be all?” the agent asked, sliding my ticket across the counter.
“Yes. Thank you.” The smile I tried for slipped away before I turned and headed for the train platform. My worn pack slung over my shoulder was my only companion.
SLIDING MY BAG UNDER THE seat in front of me, I leaned my head against the glass, settling in for the ride. I hadn’t been completely honest with Aunt Brenda when I left Scotland. Yes, I wanted my freedom. And yes, I wanted to travel. But there was another reason. A reason I’d left and kept moving. Uncle Robert. The family’s black sheep had come to see me about a week before I’d left home. I’d never met the man in my entire life, and back then, I had a feeling the family didn’t just write him off because he wasn’t trustworthy.
There had been something about him that put me off when he’d showed up out of the blue last June. The family never really spoke of him, and if they did, it was in hushed whispers. When I’d asked about him, I was always told, “Never you mind about him, my dear.”
As an inquisitive teenager, I never let it go, and instead, I looked him up. There was a reason the family never spoke about him. He was evil. If ever there was a special place in Hell for those that preyed on the innocent, Uncle Robert would surely end up there. I shivered,
pulling my jacket closer to chase off the chill my thoughts had created.
He hadn’t stayed long to talk to me, only introduced himself and told me he’d be ‘seeing’ me. As to what he wanted to be seeing me for, I had no clue. Knowing his association with drug cartels and his brush with human trafficking, I kept my mouth shut and didn’t say a word to my mother or to Aunt Brenda. They didn’t need any unnecessary worry over a sibling who they’d written off long ago. And I didn’t want his presence to be the reason they guilted me into staying.
Leaving Scotland seemed the best idea. If I disappeared, then he couldn’t find me, and that would solve the problem of him seeing me again. But I was going back, leaving me to wonder if I should at least say something to Aunt Brenda. It also made me wonder if he’d shown up on their doorsteps. Surely not. At least, I hoped not anyway.
I closed my eyes, jerking my thoughts away from Robert Anderson and his lawless ways. Besides, it was probably a fluke thing and he’d already forgotten about me. Worrying over things I had no control over changing was a waste of time. It only gave me more to… well, worry over. And I had enough to worry about—like getting a job and a bank account to keep my money safe.
Aunt Brenda had offered my old room to me, and I’d accepted since living with my mother in a one-room apartment held no appeal at all. Besides, Mum was dating a man I didn’t really care for. She liked John, enough to move him in and start her life again ten years after the passing of my father. I couldn’t begrudge her happiness, but no one could ever replace my father.
Aaron Campbell had been one hell of a man, taken too early from my life because of his defective heart. I’d only been nine at the time, and I never really fully recovered from losing him.
Mum had done her best to get both of us through it, and kept life going on for both of us, but I could tell she was lonely.
Showing back up on her doorstep looking for a place to stay would upset her life. It would also probably traumatize mine, seeing her budding relationship with John.
As the train chugged along the countryside, my stomach clenched and twisted, reminding me that it was well past time to feed it. I pulled my legs up and curled into myself, hoping the other passengers couldn’t hear its distressed noise and mistake it for the mating call of a Humpback Whale. I just had to hold out for a few more hours and Aunt Brenda would feed me until I burst, and then I’d shuffle off to the nearest bed, passing out into a food coma.
There was something to be said about going home. I’d never understood the whole ‘you can never go home again’. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever to me. Of course you could go home again. It was the place where your family welcomed you back with open arms, hugged you, fed you, and clucked over the adventures you had. Or at least, mine did. It was a shame not everyone had that.
I leaned back, settling in my seat, and could almost hear Aunt Brenda’s welcome…
“OH, MY POOR DEAR!” AUNT Brenda cried out as she whisked me into a quick, bone-crushing hug. “Come along,” she continued. “We’ll get you fed right away. You’re looking right peely-wally. Di’ ya no eat a thing while you were awa’? Never you mind that, we’ll get you fixed right up. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come home, Airen. It’s not been the same without you here with me…” Aunt Brenda put her arm through mine. My last glimpse of the man standing behind the counter was cut short as she whisked me away, carrying on about my return home.
Pulling me into her office, she led me over to the small couch tucked against the wall. Hugging the wall beside it was a tall, metal cabinet that held a mishmash assortment of everything from packing supplies to a pestle and mortar from the mid- 1800s.
My eclectic aunt was a collector of mismatched things that time had forgotten. Kind of like the brass monkey lamp on her desk and the vintage, bone china teacup she religiously drank from on her desk. The yellow friendship daffodils looked bright and cheerful, even if the gold accents had all but worn away.
Weary from my travels, I sat down as she continued on while my head spun from her words. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise with her running dialogue. But I knew she’d wind herself down eventually, I just had to wait until she got it all out.
Aunt Brenda sat beside me, perched on the edge of the couch, and patted my knee. “…and I was just saying yesterday to Mina how it was time you came home.”
I groaned, stopping Aunt Brenda’s next words before they left her mouth. “You told Mum I was coming home?”
She pulled a deep breath in with what could only be called a ‘harumph’. “Well, of course I did. And why shouldn’t I then? We’ve been so worrit about ye and no more than a word or two every so many weeks. Why, we’ve been sayin’ for a while now, wouldn’t it be nice when Airen finally comes home? Of course, you should have been the one to call, but what’s done is done, I say. And now she knows.”
Head in hands, I leaned forward with a sigh that started at my toes as it worked its way out. It wasn’t that Aunt Brenda told Mum I was coming home. No, it was the guilt Mum would lay on me that I hadn’t told her first. I’d always gone to Aunt Brenda for everything, and it wasn’t until that moment I realized it. Mum would be upset. I had to fix it. I groaned, pushing myself up from the couch and stumbling forward, swaying from exhaustion.
“And where do you think you’re going? Sit before ye fall,” Aunt Brenda said, grabbing hold of my arm to steady me.
I willed my legs to hold me up for a few more hours. “I have to go see Mum. If she knows I’m home and I don’t go to see her, she’ll be upset.”
“Sit ye down. Yer not going anywhere until you rest a bit. And a little food would do ye well, too,” she scoffed, eying me as if she dared me to refuse.
My backside hit the couch with a bounce. “As ye say, Auntie.”
Her face bloomed into a smile that lit up the room like a candle in the window, glowing brightly to show the way home.
My throat tightened and tears welled in my eyes at the thought. I was way more tired than I realized, thinking poetic sentiments such as that. And worse than that, they made me an emotional mess.
Blinking away the tears before Aunt Brenda saw them, I tipped my head back to rest against the couch and fought the dark abyss of sleep that tried sucking me into its welcoming arms.
A subtle shift in the room told me Aunt Brenda had left. I didn’t need to see it. I could feel it. Kind of like when the sun hid behind the clouds briefly as they passed by. She’d be back, and would be loaded down with a tray of food. I just had to hold out for a few more minutes.
I WOKE TO THE DIM lighting from the lamp on Aunt Brenda’s desk. I’d fallen asleep sitting up and woke stretched from end to end on the small couch. Covered with a thin blanket draped over me, I closed my eyes and pulled it tight underneath my chin to keep the heat in for just a little while longer.
Even the blanket smelled like home. The scent of sandalwood and lavender tickled my nose, soothing me. It was the same scent that Aunt Brenda’s house smelled like ever since I was a child.
Snuggling further into the couch, I recalled many a day I’d taken a nap in the same spot. Only then, I actually fit on the couch lengthwise.
After the death of my father, Mum came to work for Aunt Brenda and I’d hang out doing homework or reading a book, cuddled up in the very blanket that rested over me, offering me its security.
Across the small room, a pen scratched against paper for a brief second as my aunt worked at her desk. The faint smell of honey and cinnamon tea floated along the air, and I inhaled deeply as my stomach rumbled.
“Awake then, are ya?” Aunt Brenda called out softly.
There was no use trying to deny it, not with the ruckus coming from under the blanket. My reprieve was over.
Peeling back the blanket, I pushed myself upright, rubbing my eyes with a yawn that practically split my face.
Aunt Brenda left without a word, coming back moments later with a cup of steaming tea. “Your food’s warming. Aiden will be bringing it in when i
t’s ready.”
She handed the teacup over to me and I wrapped my hands around it, absorbing the heat. “Is Aiden the guy who was up front when I came in?”
Her eyebrow quirked at my question. “He is. A nice American boy from…” She stopped in thought.
“Alabama,” a syrupy voice said from the hallway. It was a good thing I was sitting, or my knees would have melted, and I would have ended up with a hot cup of tea down the front of me.
As it was, the death grip I had on the cup threatened to crack the ceramic.
My aunt snapped her fingers, making me jump. Hot tea slopped over the side of the cup, scalding my hand. I bit back a hiss and shifted my injured hand to my mouth.
“I have your food right here. No need to be chewing off your fingers. Ya might need them again,” he said, standing in front of me and holding out a tray.
Aunt Brenda chuckled as she took it, settling the legs over my lap. “Aiden’s just started working here about two weeks past. God love him. And a right good handyman he’s turned out to be too. Remember that old chair I wanted to have fixed but the repairman wanted so much to do it?” She chugged along, not waiting for my reply. “Well, Aiden here had it fixed in no time. It’s back out front like before, and even old Tom can come in and sit without a squeak!”
Old Tom was pushing seventy and was just as wide as he was tall. “Aunt Brenda, you shouldn’t say such things.” I couldn’t keep the humor from my voice.
She flicked her hand at me in dismissal and turned to Aiden. “I shouldn’t say such things, she says. Why, just the other day that old bampot called me a…”
Aiden’s lips curled into a brilliant smile. “And as I recall, you set him straight.”
Aunt Brenda hooted a laugh, waving the air in front of her. “Right as rain about that, lad!”
Aiden stepped back as if to leave, but Aunt Brenda caught him by the shirt sleeve. “And where do you think yer going? Ye cannot rush off yet, ye haven’t been properly introduced!”
If Ever I Fall: Book 3 of The Six Series Page 2