Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1)

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Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) Page 4

by Amos Cassidy


  Shaking her head, she quickly ran the cold tap and splashed her face generously.

  The ease with which she accepted it was more due to the fact that she had experienced something similar before, although it had never been this intense. These episodes had begun about six months ago, and the only reason Rose hadn’t told anyone about them was because of her mother. Rose was afraid, afraid that whatever had happened to her mother was now happening to her. Telling someone would be like admitting it was true, would be like allowing it to happen. So instead, Rose fought it and so far she had been successful. But this time had been different, harder to fight. What the hell was wrong with her?

  She took a deep breath, promising herself she would not turn into her mother. And whatever this…thing was she would not allow it to get the better of her. She had fought for her life, her right to live once before and held onto it by the skin of her teeth. There was no way that she was going to lose her mind. Maybe this was some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of her attack, in which case she could fight it just like she had fought her attackers. The sound of approaching footsteps triggered her into action. Grabbing a paper towel, she quickly dried her face, exiting just as a short portly woman entered.

  “Okay now?” Faye asked as Rose re-joined her.

  Rose nodded and hauled up her suitcase then winced in pain.

  Faye frowned in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Rose looked down at her hands, which looked red and slightly raw. “I think I burned my hands.” She must have held her hands under the hot tap for longer than she had realised. She had been so absorbed in what she was seeing that her mind had somehow blocked the pain.

  Faye examined her hands. “Ouch, you should have used the cold tap.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “You’re a genius,”

  “I should abandon you right here and now, but I love you too much.”

  “Of course you do, what’s not to love?”

  Faye laughed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As they made their way to the Underground, Rose took a cursory glance behind her, back towards the lavatories.

  Faye sighed. “Don’t tell me you need to go again.”

  “No.” She turned away, burying the incident deep in her mind.

  A wonderful aroma drifted from beyond the red wooden door. A warm orange light illuminated the edges of the curtains drawn across the windows.

  “5, Ellison Street, W6.” Rose studied the scrawled address on a piece of paper. “This is it.”

  They had reached Flo’s house in Hammersmith. It looked so inviting, a better place to be in than out on a cold Friday night.

  “I can smell cake,” Faye said. “Mmmm.” She purred with pleasure as the sweet smell tickled her senses.

  “Okay,” Rose said, “here goes.” She reached out and rang the bell.

  “Coming.” A female voice called from behind the door.

  There was a click and the soft clink of a chain and then the door opened. A woman stood there, short and plump with a huge smile on her face. Her hair was messy, short and black with red lowlights. Her eyes were the warm blue of a Mediterranean sea and transformed what would have been a pretty ordinary face into an interesting one. She wore a pair of black leggings, a long red t-shirt, and was clutching a tea towel in her hands, which she quickly flung over her right shoulder, as she reached out to embrace her visitors.

  “Look at you!” Flo grabbed Rose in a big hug. “Little Rose got big!” She turned to Faye and grabbed her in a hug of equal exuberance. “And you must be Faye. Lovely to meet ya, luv. I’m Flo.” She had a thick East London accent. “Your hair is bleedin’ gorgeous.” She took some of Faye’s hair gently into her hand.

  “Thank you.” Faye’s cheeks flushed pink with pleasure.

  “Come in.” Flo grabbed Rose’s bag. “It’s bloody cold out there, come get in the warm.”

  They didn’t need to be asked again.

  Flo’s house was warm, both in temperature and in décor. It wasn’t going to win any Art Décor awards but if there had been an award for sheer homeliness it would have won it in a heartbeat. The interior was a compete contrast to the ordinary façade of the exterior. The walls of the hallway were a loud green and the floor was laminate. There were shelves all over the wall with snow globes and teddy bears resting on them. The wall diagonally opposite the front door sported the largest, most ornate mirror Rose had ever seen up close and personal.

  “Wow, what a beauty.” Faye moved towards it, running a hand over the gilded frame. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall.”

  “It was a wedding gift actually, always thought it was a bit too fancy meself.” Flo ushered them further into the house.

  “Hang your coats up there.” Flo directed them to a rack on the wall where an array of jackets and coats hung. “And put your shoes there.” She pointed to a plastic mat where some shoes were already gathered.

  A boy in blue pyjamas came bounding into the hallway, looking for all intents and purposes like an over eager puppy, and ran straight to Rose. “HELLO!” He hugged her tightly.

  “Hi,” she said and ruffled the eight year old’s mousy brown hair.

  Flo’s son looked up at her with big brown eyes glittering with excitement. “I’m so glad you’re here. Can I show Rose her room, mum?”

  “Not until you say hello to someone else,” Flo jerked her head in Faye’s direction. “Don’t be rude.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Erin went to Faye and gave her a tentative hug. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

  Faye laughed. “Just call me Faye.”

  Erin giggled then turned back to his mum with the single-minded determination of a child. “Can I show her now? I’ve been waiting all day to show her.”

  Flo rolled her eyes and smiled. “Go on then.”

  Erin grabbed Rose’s hand. “Come with me.” He called over his shoulder as he bounded away with her in tow. Rose chuckled, allowing herself to be led.

  Erin led her upstairs and to the left. “Here.” He stopped outside the last door on the landing. Flo and Faye joined them. “You’ll love this room,” he said with conviction, as he pushed open the white door. Rose stepped into the room and let out a low whistle.

  The room was purple– purple walls, purple carpet, purple curtains. There were more teddies on more shelves and a television in the corner of the room. The bed was freshly made with purple duvet and pillow covers.

  “I picked the colour,” Erin said.

  Purple was not her colour, in fact it would have probably the last colour she would have painted any room, let alone her bedroom. Erin was looking up at her expectantly. She quickly plastered a smile on her face. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Is it really?” Flo asked. “He bleedin’ begged me. He wanted to choose and all that.”

  “I love it.” Rose injected more enthusiasm into her voice than probably necessary.

  Flo gave her a dubious look.

  “Told ya she would.” Erin shot his mum a smug look before quickly darting out of the room. “I’ll be back in a minute!” He called over his shoulder.

  “I can change it if you like,” Flo said.

  “Really, it’s cool. You didn’t need to go to any trouble. I’m just really grateful that you’re putting me up,” Rose said. She meant it. A bedroom was just a place to sleep after all.

  Faye was wondering around the room, picking up each teddy and studying it with obvious interest.

  “There’ll be less of that talk,” Flo said. “This will be your home now too. I want you to be happy. So if all the purple and the teddies get on ya tits just say.”

  “These are cute.” Faye placed a small white teddy dressed in a pirate’s outfit back on the windowsill. “They each have their own look.” There was genuine delight in her tone.

  Rose laughed and gave Flo an impulsive hug. “Thank you for having me.”

  “Oh you’re gonna make me cry.” Flo hugged her back. “It’s really good to see ya.” She pulled ba
ck for a moment, taking Rose’s face in her hands. “You remind me so much of your mum when she was your age.” It seemed as if she would have said more but at that moment, Erin bounded back into the room.

  “Ben 10 is a good programme.” He held up a DVD case. “If you ever wanna watch it with me you can.” His tone suggested he was doing her a great honour.

  Flo chuckled. “Don’t be daft.”

  “I ain’t,” Erin said.

  “It’s ‘I’m not’ not ‘I ain’t’.”

  Erin stuck out his bottom lip. “You say ain’t all the time.”

  “I’m allowed. And don’t be lippy.”

  Erin pulled a face but didn’t argue further.

  “Right then,” Flo said. “Who wants some chocolate cake and a cuppa? Made the cake especially for you girls.”

  “That would be fantastic,” Rose said.

  “A slice of cake would hit the spot.” Faye said.

  “Come on then.” Flo clapped her hands together once and led them out of the room. “That’s my room.” She pointed to a closed door next to Rose’s room. “That’s Erin’s room and that’s Roman’s there. The bathroom is the last door there or the first door if you’re coming up the stairs. There’s another loo downstairs but only the one bathroom for us all to share. Sorry about that.”

  “Not a problem.” Rose replied. The way she saw it she was sharing it with Flo and two boys and boys were definitely not known for hogging the bathroom.

  Flo stopped at the top of the stairs adjusting a picture on the wall. “This house was left to me by my late husband Charlie, God bless him. His dad passed it to him and his granddad had passed it to his dad. It’s been in his family for years. Now Erin and me are looking after it. Still can’t believe little old me lives in a house like this!” She chuckled. “It’s all paid for, Charlie made sure we would be all right.” Flo paused for a moment and then smiled. “He’d have loved this. He loved people coming over. My gawd he’d get the bleedin’ booze and music flowing for anyone. He loved a party, any excuse to celebrate. Out came his banjo. That thing drove me bleedin’ crackers!” She laughed.

  Rose knew that Flo would probably give anything to hear him play it again. Her dad had told her all about Flo and Charlie, talking about them when he had returned from Charlie’s funeral six years ago.

  Flo and Charlie had been childhood sweethearts, the epitome of soul mates. They had married young and soon discovered they couldn’t have children. They had adopted Roman as a baby just before Violet, Rose’s mother, had moved to Derbyshire to work for an up and coming gallery. It was in Derbyshire that Violet had met and married Rose’s father in a whirlwind romance. Flo had given her an ear full for not inviting her to the wedding, but had soon softened when she had realised just how in love Violet was. It wasn’t long after that Rose’s mother succumbed to the illness that took her away from reality. One blow was followed by another– when the doctors had informed her father that her mother was pregnant. It had been Flo who had been a source of comfort for her father in those days; making regular trips to help with Violet. Aaron had given her the title of godmother, knowing it was what his wife would want.

  Erin was the miracle baby Flo thought she would never conceive, but the joy of his birth had been followed a year later by the death of his father.

  “Roman’s just like him,” Flo looked slightly wistful.

  Roman, Flo and Charlie’s eldest and adopted son, would have been sixteen when Charlie passed away.

  Flo led them downstairs. “Roman actually did the painting in ya room. He’s quite handy with a paintbrush. I was bleedin’ shocked!”

  “Where is he tonight?” Rose asked.

  If she was honest, she was a little nervous about meeting the infamous Roman. Flo seemed to think the sun shone out of his backside, the perfect son, handsome, talented and hardworking. Personally, Rose didn’t believe anyone could be that perfect and she had a feeling that as a rule, mothers probably viewed their offspring through rose-tinted spectacles. She’d only met him briefly once and had spent the rest of the time hiding in her room. Just showed how much things had changed. There would be very little, if anything, that would coerce her to hide in her room these days. She wasn’t into avoidance as a dealing tactic. She preferred the more direct, in your face approach.

  Flo’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “He’s been on holiday with his mates. Gawd knows what time he’ll be back, sometime tomorrow. You’ll see him then, and his mates.” She led them down the hall and into an open plan dining room and kitchen, complete with a large dining table and pink and yellow walls. She gestured toward a wooden door in the far right corner, “That door there is the basement. Well, it’s actually a den now. Roman and his mates practically live down there, well apart from two but X-Box ain’t for everyone is it?”

  “Damon is so boring,” Erin said.

  Flo gave him a stern look. “Don’t be rude.”

  Erin turned his attention to Rose. “I’ve got an X-Box. You wanna see it?”

  “In a little while,” Rose said.

  “What about you?” He turned to Faye expectantly

  Flo gave an exasperated sigh. “Stop going on, Erin.”

  Erin huffed and said no more, his arms firmly crossed.

  “Come and sit in the living room and I’ll bring in the bits. It’s more comfy in there,” said Flo ushering them in.

  Comfy was an understatement as far as Rose was concerned. The living room was decorated in floral wallpaper and a thick red carpet, a pink and white, floral-patterned sofa and two matching arm chairs. The walls were covered with more shelves like the hallway, and cabinets. Trinkets and teddy bears filled every bit of space on and in them. There was an old-fashioned drinks cabinet, a big television, a coffee table with women’s weekly magazines on it, an X-Box and a DVD player. One of the armchairs was obviously reserved purely for Flo– it had a small table next to it with a china mug with the words ‘World’s Best Mum’ written on it in big pink letters. The whole effect screamed, “Come on, plonk your bum on these and mong out!” Rose could seriously visualise herself doing just that.

  Her shoulders relaxed, her body seemed to melt as she sank onto the larger sofa. It was scary how at home she felt already.

  Flo set down a tray of cake and mugs of tea. “Either of you smoke?”

  “No,” Rose said.

  Faye shook her head.

  “I don’t smoke in the house, won’t have it. But I do enjoy a ciggie. I won’t be having one yet ‘til I’ve finished me cake. But I thought I’d clear that up first. Filthy habit but we all have a vice don’t we?”

  “Chocolate.” Faye said.

  Flo chuckled. “Right, let’s dig into this cake and then we can talk about what we can do tomorrow. Oh, how you getting to the house ya staying in, Faye? You getting the tube? It’s not far to the station from here and we’ll walk ya to it. I just wish I had more room for you here. I could try and find a way.” Her brow creased in thought.

  Faye shook her head, smiling. “Don’t worry about me. I’m quite excited about meeting my fellow tenants.” She assured her. “And I’m getting a taxi. My dad’s got enough money for me to start my own tab.”

  Flo looked dubious.

  “Trust me, she’s not joking,” Rose said.

  Flo chuckled lightly. “Okay then, sweetheart. As long as you’ll be all right.”

  Flo took a sip of her tea and almost choked. “I forgot to put sugar in me bleedin’ tea!”

  The next day Rose awoke early and spent a happy hour unpacking properly and putting a few of her personal ornaments about the room. She stopped when she came to a picture of her mother. It had been taken before she had fallen sick, in a time when she was full of life and her eyes sparkled with intelligence. She was seated on the porch, a mug in one hand and the cat sprawled on her lap. Her dad said the cat had left one day and never come back. A wry smile twisted her lips. At least she had this tiny glimpse into her mother’s life before…she shook her
head, retrieving the only other picture she had brought with her. This one was of her and her dad. It had been taken by Flo a few years ago. It was summer time and they were sprawled on the grass having just finished a grass fight. She smiled at the memory.

  Arranging the pictures side by side on her bedside table, she sighed. It was a shame that there weren’t more pictures of her mother and father together. The fire had seen to that. The fire her mother had accidentally set when her illness had first manifested itself. The kitchen and most of the bottom floor had been incinerated. The picture of her mother and the cat had survived as it had been one that lived on the second floor. She was grateful for it. She was grateful to be here and she was grateful to Flo for giving her a home.

  Rose, Faye, Flo and Erin spent the rest of the Saturday exploring the sites of London. They went to famous locations such as Buckingham Palace, Houses of Parliament, Trafalgar Square and the London Eye. Flo also showed them the gym in Soho where Rose would start work on the Monday morning, and then took them all to lunch. After that they paid a visit to Brick Lane, Erin found a pet shop selling exotic animals and Flo had a hard time trying to pry him off of a tank that housed a large python.

  After a walk along the Thames they hopped back on the tube and made their way back to Flo’s house. Flo put the kettle on as soon as they were indoors, after which they all proceeded to collapse onto the sofa.

  Flo sprawled on the armchair, hand on heaving chest. “I’m bleedin’ knackered.”

 

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