“I have no friends,” Mallory mumbled, before switching into the fast lane to speed around a slow moving car.
Dawn turned to face her. “What... You're not friends with Elisabeth? Pfft. Come on, Mallory.”
When the only response was the shrug of a shoulder, Dawn was even more baffled. Sitting back and crossing her arms, she thought for a few minutes at the odd behavior. From what Elisabeth had told her before, she and Mallory had been thick as thieves for nearly a decade. However, since they'd been holed up in London, there had been nary a mention of other teacher.
She didn't give it much thought before, but a time line began to form in her head. If it wasn't related specifically to their self imposed exile, then what? Thinking about the reactions of the girls her age, Dawn came to the first conclusion. Elisabeth hadn't specifically told Dawn that she disliked her presence, but could that be it?
“Does Elisabeth not like me, or something?” she grasped at straws aloud. Why else would the two friends part badly?
Mallory shook her head. “No, no. Don't ever think this is your fault, amare,” she insisted rather sweetly. It came out sounding guilty, instead.
Going down the line, Dawn blurted out the next person on her mind. “Claudia doesn't like me?”
Visibly tensing, Mallory grimaced. “That woman doesn't like anyone, Dawn.”
Squinting her eyes in suspicion, Dawn knew she'd hit pay dirt. It would be hilarious if she weren't trying to puzzle out what was making her love so unhappy. Mallory was deflecting specific answers, and projecting her own feelings instead.
“You and Claudia don't like each other,” Dawn chuckled. “Oh, my God! And I thought women my age were silly.”
Unable to dance around the truth any longer, Mallory smirked.
Dawn caught the half-smile and fought the urge to burst out laughing. “What, did you two fight over Elisabeth? Or...”
“We simply don't get along,” Mallory interrupted, frowning again. “I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on Claudia Clark. It was also the moment I decided that I didn't like her. The feeling was evidently... quite mutual from the start.”
_____________________________________
The first week of school over, Mallory and Elisabeth had dragged themselves forty-five minutes south to York's bustling pubs for a well needed break. Hoping to drink in peace and anonymity in the city's thriving gay scene, they relaxed over their pints while seated at the far section of the bar near the telly.
“Oh, and the new students. Don't get me started...” Elisabeth grumbled. “They're already going on about my accent.”
“Well, you did retain most of it,” Mallory remarked. “I've tried over and over to teach you how to speak like a Brit, but you don't listen.”
Turning to face Mallory, Elisabeth's hands waved animatedly in the air. “Mallie, you go from London's accent, to Kentish, to Yorkshire without blinking an eye. I can't learn like that. The Americans didn't mind our accents, why should the English mind mine?”
Suddenly, the show on the telly gave Mallory a brilliant idea. The several pints of beer she'd already drank were talking, too. “Talk like a stereotypical Brit until you get the hang of it!” she snapped her fingers.
Elisabeth snorted before taking a swig of her beer. “Good evening, this is the BBC,” she began before dissolving into laughter.
“No, no! Not like the 'Beeb,'” Mallory snickered.
“Okay, so don't speak like you then,” her friend teased before receiving a push to the shoulder. Mallory's drunken ire only made Elisabeth laugh louder.
Raising her eyebrow, Mallory's lips curled into a smile before belting out, “Git' out muh pub! Go'on! Git' outta here!”
The barkeep on television repeated the line a beat later, sending Elisabeth into hysterics. "Oh, my Gud. It's been too long since I've gotten you blasted..."
A stylish hobo purse slapped the bar counter next to Elisabeth, and a shorter, deliciously curvy woman sat down before turning towards the pair. Her blue eyes glittered with amusement as she took in Mallory, but widened with desire at the fit blonde beside her. “Shut it, you tart!” she quoted the show loudly to tease Mallory.
Elisabeth turned towards the new arrival, her laughter dying quickly as she took in the amateur comedienne's simple, natural beauty. Sipping her beer for courage, she thrust her hand out in greeting.
“Elisabeth...Elisabeth Sørensen,” she announced awkwardly.
The woman chuckled, shaking her head full of auburn and chocolate tresses. “Fancy a dance, Elisabeth... Elisabeth Sørensen?”
Summarily forgotten, Mallory crossed her arms and glared at the interloper. The woman who introduced herself as Claudia before leading Elisabeth onto the dance floor didn't even bother to say hello to her, past what she perceived as an insult. Her eyes narrowed in irritation before turning away from the sight of them dancing.
Dawn singing to a song on the radio distracted Mallory from her inner musings. A sign on the side of the motorway told her that they had driven half of the way back to Middlesbrough, and her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel to expel her tension without taking it out on Dawn again. The young woman was far more observant than anything, and Mallory did not want to continue their conversation in the same vein it had been headed.
A wave of something akin to jealousy skittered over her skin, before settling in her gut like dead weight at Dawn's curiosity about Claudia. No, she didn't want to talk about this at all.
_____________________________________
Elisabeth watched from behind the curtain as DC Stewart walked across the road to her car, the black attaché case under her arm. It had taken another day and two more phone calls to the CCU, but the deed was finally done.
When the Detective drove away, Elisabeth exhaled heavily. Mallory had called her twice since she'd arrived home, but she had swiped 'Reject call' each time. She was no fool, having known the haunted woman for the better part of a decade. Elisabeth knew when Mallie was being manipulative, and the one voice mail she'd left her was dripping with it, as well as tears.
The more she recalled Mallie's duplicity, the more angry she got. Her pride was hurt, that she could have been so naive as to have such a close friendship with someone who turned out to be practically a stage character. Her scowl turned curious as she walked down the stairs and smelled food. Wandering into the kitchen, she saw Claudia making dinner. Her mouth watered.
Sensing she had company, Claudia turned around. She'd been so absorbed in cooking that she hadn't noticed Elisabeth at the kitchen door. She was still wearing her uniform.
"You've just come home from work..." Elisabeth frowned, motioning at Claudia with her chin.
“And you're stressed beyond belief. Besides, you work so hard the rest of the year," Claudia replied, breaking some pasta into a pot of boiling water.
Picking up a mushroom from the chopping board, Elisabeth popped it in her mouth.
With an indulgent smile, Claudia watched her do it, but didn't tell her to stop. "Go and have a nap," she suggested as she took the chopping board from the counter, sliding the mushrooms into another pot with her finger. "I'll call you when dinner's ready."
Not one to argue with the promise of sleep and food, Elisabeth nodded, and leaned to kiss Claudia on the cheek before heading upstairs.
She had been lying down for only ten minutes when Claudia came in to check on her. Her fianceé was only too aware that she was extremely hurt by recent events, but she tried not to bring it up.
Elisabeth slid over in bed to turn on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. "My back is so sore," she grumbled. Nearly nine hours in a car the other day was catching up with her.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Claudia brushed at Elisabeth's cheek with the back of her hand. "Lie back down, sweetheart.”
Elisabeth complied, rolling to lay on her stomach. She sighed with relief as Claudia's hands began working on her back.
"You'll need a hot shower after this," she
warned Elisabeth.
"Or a cold one," came her muttering reply.
Claudia chuckled as she massaged out the knots in her aching back. "Come down for dinner when you're ready.”
_____________________________________
Two hours later, Claudia was elbow deep in suds doing the washing up. Fed and content, Elisabeth had retired to bed early, curled up hugging a pillow and fast asleep the last time she had looked in on her. Placing a wet plate in the dish rack, she looked over her shoulder as the doorbell rang. After she dried her hands on a tea towel, she went to answer the front door.
Her face hardened the moment she opened the door to see Mallory Moore standing there, sunglasses worn down the bridge of her nose even in the night air. The tall brunette didn't wither beneath her cold glare, but slid the dark shades back up. She stepped in, the light from the hallway spilling onto her sharp features.
Claudia's professional eye assessed the sight before her - the woman's eyes had been troubled, deeply set into shadowy relief most likely caused by lack of sleep. 'Good,' she thought.
"May I speak with Elisabeth?" Mallory requested, more politely than ever. She peered around Claudia's shoulder, and past the doorway.
"She's asleep," Claudia replied, crossing her arms for good measure.
Raising an eyebrow in surprise at her boldness, Mallory tried again.
Claudia saw the move coming a mile away. It was typical of teachers - if politeness didn't work, perhaps a sharp stick would.
"It's imperative, Claudia,” Mallory stated sternly, before removing her sunglasses to tuck them in a pocket, totally on cue.
Sighing, Claudia looked away from the piercing green eyes that dressed her down in only the way a schoolteacher could, and stepped aside. Mallory brushed past her without another word as she entered the apartment.
Her thoughts turned resentful. She didn't want to wake her fianceé up, but she didn't want to speak for her. If Mallory had the audacity to show up at this hour despite the fact Elisabeth had been ignoring her for days, then the consequences were her own.
Mallory stood in the middle of the living room, watching through speculative eyes while Claudia returned to the kitchen, tossing the tea towel on the back of a chair.
Claudia turned to return the glare. Mallory, always Mallory. She'd never liked her from the night they first met, with Elisabeth on a night out. The vile snake of a woman surveyed her judgmentally as she walked around her to pick up the remote control and turn off the telly.
"So...” Mallory began, “She's asleep, but you're down here? Having a row?" she smirked.
Claudia grit her teeth and went for the lowest blow straight off. "Well if it were any of your business that we were havin' a row, it wouldn't be because I'm a bloody teenager with no idea how to treat a woman properly," she snapped back.
Mallory's eyes flashed furiously at the insult before attempting one of her own. "What Elisabeth sees in you, I can't imagine..."
“You're pathetic, you know that? You do... don't you? Conniving, secretive, horrible woman!" Claudia spat while shaking her head. "You're fucked up, that's what you are. You have a taste for goddamn schoolgirls. Don't judge me, you whore."
The last word that fell from Claudia's lips visibly wounded Mallory. Shoulders bristled and eyes watered as she walked forward to invade her personal space.
"I'd watch my mouth if I were you," Mallory seethed.
"I fucking dare you," Claudia challenged, her fists balling at her sides. “I know what you're here for, and it's gone. Elisabeth sent it off to the police. I don't want your filth in my home.”
While she'd meant to say 'that filth,' Claudia stuck to her previous statement in her anger. Fully expecting Mallory to explode upon that news, she was shocked to see the woman build a wall around herself instead.
Mallory seemed to become even taller as her shoulders straightened. The whites of her eyes showed as irises blazed green fire, and her chin raised haughtily to stare down at Claudia in disgust.
The mood swing simply wasn't natural. It was like the night at the cottage all over again, though this time they were trading barbs rather than arguing over Mallory needing to go to the hospital. Claudia took a step back, crossing her arms.
"You must actually hate me, Claudia...Tsk. Here I've always enjoyed our usual banter, but this is a new low. Elisabeth finally told you that she stuck her tongue down my throat at the last Christmas party, huh?" Mallory informed her, knowing very well there was no way that Elisabeth had done so. A brief, self satisfied smile played on her lips as Claudia's widened in horror.
That is, until she turned to see what Mallory was staring at. Her smile faded rapidly as she saw the expression on Elisabeth's face. Claudia was sure that Mallory had never seen her look so enraged.
Her blue eyes hardened to ice, Elisabeth descended the stairs to walk towards her former friend. Her tone was deadly as she whispered the order. "Get out, Mallie.”
Mallory's lower lip trembled for a millisecond at Elisabeth's verdict before she inhaled sharply and turned on her heel to walk out the door, slamming it for effect. What more could she have said?
Betrayal only begets betrayal, and hurt just the same.
Chapter 15: Miror in Mirum (Mirror in the Mirror)
"Sometimes I miss you the way someone drowning remembers the air. There is no small amount of pain to it, but rather an intense pain where my heart surely must have laid. There wasn't a connection to that memory before.
It was like I was missing someone that I'd never met...
someone that I desperately needed to."
A single teardrop fell to roll down the page of the composition book, smearing some of the freshly written ink as it went. Mallory's index finger ran down the page, scrubbing furiously at the stain. When it became evident that she'd only made it worse, the black smudged finger flew up to her mouth. Once clean, it came back down to hitch behind the page, pulling it slowly from the book. Riiiiiiiip.
Other sounds came to her sensitive ears as the dawn rose brightly outside the bay window seat where she reclined.
Light tiptoes skipped down the stairs before shuffling sideways to miss the fourth step's creak. They tapped into the kitchen as Mallory's mouth curled up into the semblance of a smile. The refrigerator opened, and breathy whispers began to complain at of the lack of milk. Or juice. Or eggs, for that matter.
Suddenly, the slipping of a metallic canister through sleepy hands. Squeak. A clatter of the metal on the counter top, and then to the floor. Clunk, rattle, clank! More dancing around of those tiny feet on the kitchen floor, and muttered curses that might put a sailor to shame.
Mallory was at the kitchen threshold without comprehending how. Looking back into the living room, she spied the cable knit throw on the floor, next to her window seat. The composition book laid on top of it, the pages open and askew.
"You're awake," Dawn exhaled quietly from the floor, where she knelt in an attempt to salvage her spilled coffee. "Did you even sleep?"
Turning back slowly to regard the tiny sprite mourning her coffee, Mallory crouched down as well. "Leave it, amare. I'll go and get more."
Dawn shook her head. "You can't drive, if you haven't slept. You haven't come to bed for days..."
"I haven't been outside in days, either. The fresh air will do me some good," Mallory argued as she scooped up coffee grounds in her hands to deposit them in the bin.
"But!" came the sputtering reply.
"Please, Dawn. Don't argue with me today," Mallory sighed as she stood to rinse her hands.
Following her request didn't mean that Dawn hid her displeasure. As usual, her feelings became quite evident as she stomped her way back up the stairs. Even the squeaky tread got a good slap of her foot this time around. Moments later the door to the bedroom slammed, followed by the interior bathroom door.
Mallory watched from below, following the noises as they sounded along the ceiling and echoed. Giving Dawn a few minutes to cool down, she puttered aro
und the kitchen, and made a grocery list before heading up the stairs herself.
As she entered the bedroom, the bathroom door's latch audibly locked, and the tap running made it clear that Dawn was in anything but a talking mood. They'd waltzed around each other for the past five days and six nights. Avoidance was the tactic of preference at the cottage ever since their arrival home - hers, anyhow. Dawn was more plucky than that.
"Come to bed..." a sing song voice pleaded. When she'd opened her eyes, those petite hands slid into hers and tugged playfully. Realizing she'd nodded off in her chair, Mallory straightened and refused.
Peccatum in Carne: Sins of the Flesh (The Three Sins of Mallory Moore Book 1) Page 20