I was in the new clothes within a flash.
‘Stand over there … turn around.’ I couldn’t believe I was doing this. ‘Come on – don’t be shy! Remember what all this is for. You look gorgeous … I love your hair that length, so it’s sort of curling on to your shoulders.’
‘It has always been this length,’ I muttered.
‘I know – but it really suits you.’
I was conscious I couldn’t recall ever having had a conversation like this with Elizabeth. We had never discussed my appearance before.
‘That’s because there’s never been a need before.’
‘I must shave,’ I said, rubbing my hands over the stubble and heading back over to my shaving equipment.
‘No, you don’t!’ Elizabeth asserted. ‘Believe me, that little bit of stubble is attractive. It’s modern, and you need to get your act together. Thank God you got rid of those blessed sideburns. We can’t have her guessing your age now, can we?’
She read my thought. ‘Oooohh. Yeah, you’re going to have to work on that one. Jane Austen, though? It could be worse. You ought to be able to pull off Mr Darcy pretty perfectly!’
Was that a smirk on her face? I looked at her, confused.
‘Pride and Prejudice is hugely popular, Nate – particularly Mr Darcy. Human girls seem to really go for him. Look, just be yourself – but a tad more agreeable – and you’ll be irresistible.’ She smiled to herself, before continuing, ‘You’re done! Now, as soon as you know when Mama Mia! is on, let me know. I’ll sort the tickets, and we will set a date to go shopping.’
‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ I gave her a gentle hug and kissed her head.
This arrangement might just work.
Grabbing the keys to the recently delivered Morris Minor, I headed downstairs on route to the garage. I changed course as I spotted Mrs Neeson, the London housekeeper. She was struggling to open a door whilst overly laden with soft furnishings, which by their scent, were newly laundered. She stared at me – or more precisely, at my smile – astounded, as I opened the door for her. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Neeson.’
She matched my smile. ‘It certainly would seem to be, Mr Gray.’
Departing with a quick bow I left the house to the rear … my smile now faltering. I had heard her murmur, ‘I know only one thing that puts a smile like that on a man’s face.’ And Elizabeth’s resultant giggles.
The building now housing our cars had formerly been our stabling and coach house. We had converted it a hundred years or so ago, although I still kept some stabling to one end, just in case Bess ever needed accommodating.
On entering, I found Madeleine. She was leaning against Rowan’s car, with her arms crossed, clearly waiting for me.
‘Nate,’ she said earnestly, ‘promise me, you’ll be careful – there are risks to you both here.’
‘Of course.’
She still didn’t move from her position against the driver’s door, so I sighed, raised my eyebrow and said wryly, ‘If you want to share what else is on your mind, you might either choose to verbalise, or remove your block.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’ve just been trying to pluck up the courage. It didn’t go too well with Heather.’ Madeleine lowered her block.
‘Ahhhhh,’ I said in understanding. ‘No, it would appear not.’
‘Is that all you can say?’ she cried. ‘I know you are more focused on Rowan than getting answers, but Nate – I couldn’t get into her head at all! And if that isn’t bad enough, I was a hundred metres behind her in a darkened doorway, and she turned around and looked straight at me – with those freaky grey eyes of hers. And I swear she knew what I’d been trying to do!’
‘So it is not only me who doesn’t react too well to her.’
‘No – I can safely say, she spooked me.’
‘It is no consolation to you, I know,’ I said, now grinning, ‘but personally, I find it rather reassuring that you reacted to her the same way I did. It means something is still working.’
‘Thanks!’ she said sarcastically. ‘Nice clothes by the way. Elizabeth has got to you, then?’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Mmmm,’ she said, nodding her head and then looking more concerned added, ‘She isn’t going to stand a chance. Just be careful. But at the same time, anything you can get on Aunty Hetty would be useful. We really are struggling to make any sense out of all this. I’m heading out of town for a couple of days, to do some research of my own.’
Her block was back up. In response to my frown, she said, ‘I’m just visiting an old friend – Fergus.’
‘Fergus MacArthur?’ Before joining us, both she and Frederick had spent a number of years within his group up in Scotland.
‘The very one. I’m hoping he can help us get some answers to things because, believe me, we need help! Call me if you find anything out, yeah – or if anything else goes wrong?’
With a quick peck on the cheek, she was gone.
Chapter Eight
The Delivery
I slammed the door of Rowan’s Morris Minor and eventually found the right key and turned it in the right manner, to get the damned door to lock. How the hell could she like this monstrosity? At least the precarious driving experience had kept me distracted enough to completely forget it was the first time I had driven since the accident – but it had hardly reassured me as to Rowan’s safety on the roads.
‘Nate?’
I turned to see Clare crossing the tree-lined street, struggling under a mass of shopping bags. I jogged over to meet her, relieved her of her load, and started walking with her towards the house.
She spoke breathlessly. ‘Thank you so much! I didn’t spare a thought for how I was going to carry them all, until I was packing up at the check-out – by which time it was too late.’ Now her hands were free, she rubbed them together to try and get blood flow back into her white fingers. She then used them to repeatedly smooth her hair down. Her heart was beating a little too quickly and she was flushed. ‘Rowan never said …’ she muttered, seemingly annoyed with her sister.
‘I am returning the car – a last-minute arrangement.’
I watched Clare put the keys in the door, grateful that Rowan didn’t have to tackle the stairs to let me in. As we headed up the first flight of steps, I grinned. I was in a very different state of mind to that of yesterday, when I had last travelled this route.
‘Are you sure you can manage all those bags?’ Clare asked dubiously, before looking over her left shoulder at me. Her eyes travelled up and down my body. Her flush deepened and she returned her attention to the stairs. She said, more to herself than to me, ‘Of course you can.’ A couple of steps later, she took a deep shaky breath and asked, ‘So … how are things? Have you fully recovered from the accident?’
‘Good, thank you, Clare.’ I chose not to answer the second question. I was never going to fully recover from the accident. And anyway, I was good. Well, no – I was more than good. I was courting Rowan! Smiling, I asked, ‘And how are you? I hear you are assisting Rowan in her recovery. Is she happy to be assisted?’
Clare laughed shakily and I heard her heart race a little more. ‘What do you think? And she’s even more irritable than usual, because she’s refusing to take her painkillers!’
I couldn’t help the wince, but suppressed the hiss.
‘So, how are Mark, little Nathan and Tom managing to cope without you?’ I forced out. I could do small-talk, I told myself.
She gave me a huge smile. ‘Oh! You remember their names! I’m so impressed! They aren’t – coping that is! Mark isn’t remotely happy. He’s taking them to McDonalds for breakfast, lunch and tea – and is convinced they are playing up especially for him.’ She giggled to herself. ‘It’ll do him good. Believe it or not, babysitting Rowan is a holiday.’
I raised my eyebrows and grinned; her blush deepened.
We had reached the door to Rowan’s flat, but Clare was unfortunately continuing the conver
sation. ‘So … do you have kids, Nate?’
‘No.’ I didn’t like this topic. It hurt. I had never wanted children. Becoming a vampire had represented no sacrifice at all. Yet, for a moment I saw the image I had experienced in the hospital of two children, playing at Ridings.
‘It’s unlocked!’ Rowan called from inside the flat.
My body warmed at the sound of her voice. I had already been listening contentedly to her slightly too fast heartbeat, which I had picked up clearly from the moment I had arrived … but her voice? I loved to hear her voice.
Clare was, however, standing between me and the door, so I couldn’t pass. ‘You just haven’t found the right girl then,’ she observed.
‘That is a possibility,’ I said quietly, trying to sound casual.
‘You’ll know when you’ve found her,’ Clare announced.
I had found her. But it was never going to be. Did Rowan want children? I hadn’t even thought of that. Of course she did, and only a human could give her that. But I knew there was no future for us, I had always known that. But a date – the only date I had ever had – with the only woman I had ever wanted. What harm could that do? I needed that more than I had ever needed anything in all my existence.
I extracted myself away from my thoughts as Clare opened the door and made her way into the flat, with the following words: ‘Rowan … why do you keep leaving the door unlocked?’
A sense of guilt rushed over me – my own. My eyes immediately sought hers. She was standing a few feet away, using the back of the sofa, rather than crutches, for support.
She was as beautiful as ever. She was definitely nervous, like me, and her heart missed a beat before beginning to race. Clare’s question, however, had triggered a momentary spark of what I highly suspected to be suspicion. There was an unasked question in her eyes – most likely: ‘Was the door really unlocked, Nate?’
I looked away quickly. ‘Where would you like me to put these?’ I asked no one in particular, holding the shopping bags up high.
‘Just over here,’ Clare said, showing me into the small kitchen. ‘Thank you, Nate. You make it look so easy. You aren’t remotely out of breath – it would have killed me. I don’t know how Rowan does it.’
I tracked Rowan from the corner of my eyes. She was making her way to the kitchen doorway, using furniture for support. It was an excruciating process to watch and it was all my fault! Scanning the number of bags she shook her head. ‘How much did you buy, Clare?’
‘Yeah … I know! But, hey – I’m used to a family shop. At least it will fill your cupboards.’
I looked fully at Rowan now, waiting for her eyes to lift in my direction. When they did, I captured them with my own. I gave her a gentle smile. ‘Rowan,’ I said. I didn’t feel able to say anymore; I was too lost in their depths. They really were, the deepest, most beautifully pure hue of green, I had ever seen.
Clare was continuing to natter as she unpacked the shopping, but my focus remained on Rowan. Fresh uncurling leaves, covered in dew … but no, they were simply green. There was a verdant depth to Rowan’s eyes and I couldn’t think of any beauty of nature that matched their stunning colour. They appeared to hold flecks of every possible hue of green, with just the right quantity of each, to cumulatively create … perfection. Stunning, awe-inspiring … gulp-inducing, perfection. There was clearly nothing borderline about my obsession now, I conceded, before attempting to pull myself together and replying to Clare’s question, ‘No, I do not like Marmite.’ What the hell was Marmite?
Having dragged my attention away from Rowan’s eyes, it was with a further twisting stab of guilt I took in the cut at her hairline from the accident. It seemed to be healing well but – would it scar? I gritted my teeth. She had been marked by a monster.
I sensed Rowan’s confusion increase. Had she seen something in my eyes? I had to snap myself out of this. I turned away and smiled at Clare, ‘No, I have never liked Marmite – even as a child.’ I made a mental note to find out what Marmite was.
I leaned against the worktop with my arms crossed, in an attempt to look casual. I resisted the temptation to close my eyes and to surrender to the sensation that now started to sweep through my being. That warming glow – and I knew its source. The one source that made me feel alive … That made me feel … a man.
I looked up to watch Rowan’s eyes as they travelled the length of my body. They were leaving their trail of heat wherever they looked. Her breath quickened as did her pulse. Her scent was wonderful, but I was in control. Her eyes met mine, and her cheeks flushed deeper. My heart galloped.
‘So I hear you paid Rowan a surprise visit yesterday, Nate?’ Clare piped up.
Damn! I took a deep breath. Rowan looked awkward, and I felt embarrassment and … that suspicion again? But she was waiting for my response. I forced myself to smile and laughed awkwardly, ‘Yes, it was not one of my better days.’
I heard a meow. Saved by the cat!
‘Oh! Tinks!’ Rowan urgently scanned the room to see where she was. She glanced at me nervously. ‘Watch out for her … she doesn’t like men!’ She looked around again. ‘I’ll put her out as soon as she reveals herself.’
Clare, with a tin of … baked beans? in her hands, clarified matters. ‘It’s not that she doesn’t like men. She’s absolutely fine with my Mark. What Rowan really means, is Tinks has a nasty habit of attacking her boyfriends. She hurt Jonathan quite badly, scratched him really deeply across the face – it scarred, too.’
Clever cat, I thought. I might even develop a soft spot for it. Rowan’s cat was the only cat that had never fled from me … so perhaps not quite so clever. I have never tried cat … I quickly dismissed the thought – too small, not remotely satisfying enough, and, of course, Tinks was important to Rowan.
Rowan was glaring at her sister. She refocused on me. Tinks had appeared from behind the remaining shopping bags in the middle of the kitchen floor and had started to rub herself against my legs. She was purring audibly and chirping.
‘Blimey!’ Clare exclaimed. ‘Well, there’s a first. A seal of approval from Tinks!’ Rowan was confused. I was smug.
‘This Jonathan character … is he still around?’ I asked, attempting to sound casual whilst I bent down to stroke Tinks. Her purring increased and when I straightened myself up, she rose on her back legs to nudge my hand with her head.
I hoped I knew the answer to my question. I felt momentary hurt and then a flash of anger as Rowan thought of him; I leant harder against the worktop.
‘Huh – that bastard!’ Clare spat out, slamming a jar of whatever she was holding on to the worktop. I was far too preoccupied by the current topic of conversation to pursue my earlier curiosity as to the contents of the shopping bags. ‘He’s started pestering her again. He’s already phoned here three times today. I actually think he could be a real issue.’ Addressing Rowan now, she continued, ‘You should never have accepted him back the first time, love. He got drunk and slapped you that time – that should have been enough.’
I was livid. I was beyond livid. I could feel my fury rise. I looked at Rowan, but she avoided meeting my eyes. And the way I was feeling now, it was for the best. I knew the irises of my eyes would be deepest darkest black and if I didn’t control myself … the black would spread. I shut them for a moment, clenched my fists tightly under the folds of my arms, and took a deep breath to try and calm down.
Rowan was glowering at Clare when I re-opened my eyes. ‘That was a long time ago Clare – and private! Do you think you can learn to hold your tongue?’ Almost to justify herself, she added quietly, ‘It was a one-off and I was young, a very different person then.’
‘I know, love, but you let him back into your life, only for him to cheat on you – and with that woman! They were living under your roof and at it for months. He’s set his sights on you again, and it’s a case of what he can’t have.’
I felt for Rowan. I also felt her pain, and was attempting to repress my own instinctua
l need to do Jonathan Martin harm. It was difficult to remain standing and I was now clutching the worktop.
‘For pity’s sake, Clare! It’s ancient history. It’s been over for five years!’ Rowan stole a glance at me – my eyes were open again – and she saw something in them, because her eyes opened fractionally wider and her heart missed a beat. She didn’t look away. I could feel her uncertainty … and curiosity? Her eyes seemed to be silently questioning me again. It was I that looked away. I really didn’t have enough confidence in my shroud around her.
Seeming to recover herself, Rowan asked, ‘How did the conversation turn to him, anyway?’
Both Clare and I chose to answer silently, by pointing in unison at Tinks, who was now trying to climb my leg. Rowan sighed and I could feel she was over the worst.
‘Right! Cup of coffee, Nate?’ Clare asked, taking down three mugs from the cupboard. I noticed their design comprised of words. Curiously Content, Seriously Stupid, and Fucking Furious were now on the counter, and, as Seriously Stupid was placed back into the cupboard following my, ‘Not for me, thank you,’ I caught a glimpse of Deliciously Drunk, Hellishly Horny and Snap out of it Sad. It appeared that the same words were on the back of each mug: I’m only human.
‘Tea? A cold drink? Wine? Beer … although actually, I don’t think we’ve got beer.’
‘No, thank you, nothing,’ I said, stunned.
As if I needed the reminder – and from a set of mugs!
On pulling myself together, I more calmly reflected. I had most definitely experienced the one now having a spoonful of coffee added to it. But I wasn’t sure I had experienced the Curiously Content. Was Rowan happy? I so wanted her to be. And what would her Deliciously Drunk feel like? I had no hope of calmly reflecting on her Hellishly Horny, so dug around in my mind for some small-talk topics, before I got too scarred by all this.
No Such Thing As Immortality Page 11