by P. L. Kurup
Amelia released him and gripped his hand. They took the stairs this time, their steps mirroring each other. He thrust open a set of double doors and a stream of artificial light penetrated her eyes making her squint. They crossed a lively foyer comprising of suitcases rolling to and fro and people speaking all at once, the noise and chatter making her forget about Lucas and his companion for a few minutes. Samuel escorted her outside and the bright light they endured seconds ago was replaced by a dismal, grey sky. The air was biting cold and breath swirled from her mouth in spirals of mist. There was nothing leaving Samuel’s lips however.
“You really are dead,” she said.
“I’m no longer human. I’m something else now.”
“You never grow old, never become ill. You’re blessed,” Amelia stated, recalling her time seeing patients.
“I’m cursed.” Amelia raised a brow at his reply. “Everyone around me dies and I live a life of monotony. Death makes existence worthwhile.”
Walking beside him, she realised that he suffered the same feelings as a mortal and two hundred years of living had made him weary.
“I want to thank you for paying my tuition fees,” she said, desperate to change the mood. “I can’t believe what you did.”
“You deserve to get what you want after your abysmal childhood,” he blurted.
“What?” She stopped walking and so did Samuel. “So it was you that I saw at the orphanage. I thought I dreamed it.”
“Yes.”
“How long?” she asked.
“Since you were a few days old. I saw your mother cradle you in her arms before she died. Then I watched your father crumble with grief at her death.”
Amelia’s eyes swelled with tears. “I never knew my mother. The orphanage didn’t like us keeping photographs so I can’t remember what she looks like.”
“She was as beautiful as you are and had the same alluring smile.
“Why didn’t you take me home after my father died?”
“A vampire’s life is unsuitable for a child. But I saw you every day.”
“Who were those women you painted?” she questioned, almost afraid to know.
“The blonde-haired lady was Countess Alexandra Bonnet. She was my wife. The other was Anna St Martin. She and I were lovers.”
“Was I - them?”
“You have the same soul.”
She stopped walking and took several breaths.
“How did they die?” He looked uncomfortable and she insisted, “I want to know.”
“Alexandra was fed on by Lucas and Anna died when her heart was pieced with a knife.”
Amelia remembered the bloodstained dress she found inside the trunk and the birthmark on her neck. Signs that seemed to correspond with Samuel’s account.
“You will always come back to me. No matter who you are or where you live. It’s inevitable,” he told her.
She blinked as it contradicted everything she learnt in medical school. She saw Samuel staring into the distance and shifting her gaze the same way, she saw Claude and another man a mile away from them.
“We have to leave,” Samuel announced.
Grabbing her hand, he yanked her down the pavement while dodging pedestrians at every turn. He continued his brash walk through London and forty five minutes later they reached Carnaby Street, a place with an abundance of shops and visitors. Amelia’s eyes drooped with tiredness and her feet were covered in blisters. He studied her a moment then dragged her into a three storey restaurant brimming with people. The tables were arranged inches away from one another and the floor was filthy from the shuffling of shoes. A crowded restaurant was the last thing she needed and she resented him for bringing her there.
“The multitude of customers and aroma of cooked food will mask our presence,” he explained.
He signalled to a waiter with collar length hair. The man walked up to them and muttered, “You’re wasting your time. We are fully booked the whole day.”
“We can go somewhere else. I don’t mind where we have breakfast,” Amelia remarked.
“We can’t go anywhere else,” Samuel retorted.
His eyes swayed to the corner where he saw a table stacked against the wall. He cradled his arm around her and eased her to the corner.
Once they reached the location he took the table from its resting place and set it on the floor. Then arranged two cardboard boxes on either end to act as chairs. Amelia smirked at his inventive skills.
“I promise it’s as comfortable as your favourite sofa,” he assured.
She sat down on a cardboard box and was surprised to find Samuel was right. Samuel was about to take the other ‘seat’ when the waiter approached him.
“You cannot sit there, sir. I’m afraid you have to leave,” the man voiced firmly.
Samuel’s azure eyes fixed on him and in a matter of moments the waiter was left immobile.
“My friend is very hungry and she needs to eat a hearty breakfast,” Samuel said. “Scrambled eggs on toast and some tea. Once she has eaten we will be on our way.”
“We will be happy to serve her breakfast. Forgive me for being so rude,” the waiter grovelled.
The man left the scene and Amelia watched Samuel sit down on the cardboard box opposite her.
“Why did you do that?” she enquired.
“He enjoys making people miserable. Beings like that infuriate me no end.”
“If it’s any conciliation scrambled eggs on toast and tea is exactly what I crave.”
“I know.”
“Why is Lucas so against you?” she asked.
“Lucas watched Alexandra and I the day we got married. To see us so happy consumed him with rage. So when she and I were captured he did something unspeakable. He changed me into a vampire and fed on Alexandra. There are three of us left now; Claude, Lucas and myself.”
“Couldn’t they change someone else?” she queried.
“Claude is too frightened of Lucas to do anything so outlandish and Lucas knows any vampire he creates could be a threat to him. Like I am.”
“Seeing as we’re destined to meet again and again throughout eternity...” She got up from her seat, pulled Samuel up from his and knelt in front of him. “Samuel d’Orleans will you be my husband?”
Samuel recalled Clara’s warning and knew that accepting the proposal would mean his death.
“It would be my honour to marry you, Amelia Thorpe.”
Chapter 25
Soon after the proposal Amelia’s food arrived. She was so hungry that she ate the scrambled eggs and toast with her bare hands. After finishing her plate, she washed down her breakfast with two cups of Assam tea.
“That was delicious,” she exclaimed.
She shifted in her seat and her hand knocked over the red plate her food was on. Samuel watched the dish plummet to the floor and smash into a dozen irregular pieces. You will see three signs before you die. The first, a red dish smashing to the ground. He heard Clara’s warning as clearly as if she was standing beside him.
“I’m sorry, “Amelia said.
“A broken dish is nothing to fret about, he replied.”
He spoke so calmly that she suspected nothing. He paid the bill took her hand and paraded outside. He scanned the streets for the slightest hint of danger, but all he saw was a rush of people and the chaos of traffic.
“Come on,” he said.
They walked along the pavement and she was too ecstatic at the thought of marrying him to grumble about how much her feet hurt. Minutes later, he stopped by a small black car, its design similar to hundreds on the street. He opened the door for her and said, “Get in.”
Amelia got into the passenger seat without questioning why and Samuel got into the driver’s seat. She put on her seatbelt and he started the car and steered it between the swathes of other vehicles. She noticed this car had rear and side mirrors, but was smaller and far less stylish than his previous model.
“I like the car. When did you buy it?�
�� she asked.
“I bought it this morning. I apologise it’s not as chic as my other car.”
“Don’t apologise. I know everything you do is to keep me safe.”
He smiled and drove through the streets at a measured pace.
The New Year’s Day upheaval was unrelenting and he reversed the car into a narrow side street to avoid the chaos.
xxx
Amelia closed her eyes and gripped the base of the seat convinced they were about to crash. She felt the car slow and opened her eyes to find they travelled down a lane flanked by rows of Edwardian houses. The peaceful avenue was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of nearby Oxford Circus.
“So where do you want to get married?” she queried excitedly.
“Anywhere except a church,” he answered.
“Yes, I remember reading that vampires can’t cross consecrated land. I did some research on the undead.”
“I dread to think what you found,” he said.
“Most of it was disturbing, but I discovered that not everyone was evil. There are vampires who haven’t killed for centuries. What does Lucas plan to do with you? I want the truth.”
She braced herself for the answer.
“Lucas will kill me either by staking me through the heart or by removing my head. After which, he will slaughter Claude.”
“Won’t Claude fight back?” she asked.
“Claude isn’t clever enough to realise Lucas is using him.”
She ran the depressing scenario over in her mind and thought, without me he’ll have a better chance of survival.
Samuel brought the car to a stop and looked at her. His stare was so penetrating that she clasped her hand to her chest.
“Did I not agree to marry you no more than forty minutes ago?” she nodded slightly. “Why do you think I said yes?”
“Because you love me. I just don’t want anything to happen to you and Lucas seems like a monster.”
“Lucas will come after me regardless of whether you and I are together. Eventually, he and I will have to face one another.”
He parked the car a little further, got out and opened her door before she had a chance to reach for the handle.
She and Samuel walked down the street passing several indistinguishable houses which were pristine in appearance. With Samuel staying quiet, she speculated that somewhere along the street was his new London residence. They arrived at one of the houses and walked to the front door. He rang the doorbell and Amelia looked blank because the gesture cancelled out the theory of a new city dwelling.
“Care to hazard a guess?” he asked.
“I predict we’re here to see either a dentist or a chiropodist.”
The door opened and a tall, elegant woman wearing a flowing lilac gown stood before them. The woman was in her early twenties and had waist-length auburn hair.
“Welcome Amelia, my name is Lillian. If you’ll follow me.”
Lillian sashayed down a lengthy corridor and Samuel coaxed Amelia to do as she was asked. Being sandwiched between Lillian and Samuel reminded her of being transported to the headmistress’ office, memories that made her light-headed. She concentrated on the walls and saw replicas of Van Gogh’s ‘Sunflowers’ alongside photographs of London. There was nothing to suggest the type of business the residence was and a tinge of apprehension tainted her mood. Lillian opened a door at the end of the corridor and disappeared down a flight of stairs. Amelia paused, then followed her down. As usual Samuel was behind her and she comforted herself that he’d never put her in harm’s way.
Lillian opened a set of double doors and Amelia’s eyes widened as she beheld a gigantic room with hundreds of wedding gowns hanging on racks. White, ivory, yellow, red, black, backless, strapless, knee length, ballgown, contemporary, old-fashioned, flirtatious, modest – she puffed at the incredible choice before her.
“Samuel, this is magnificent,” she exclaimed.
“Pick one,” he replied.
She moved to the far end of the room and skimmed through a crowd of gorgeous gowns. Plucking half a dozen dresses from various parts of the rack, she disappeared into the changing room. She tried on the first dress and stared at herself in the mirror, but the embroidered sleeves and laced bodice seemed over-the-top. So she stepped out of it and put on the next. The collar was too high and the lace back chaffed her skin. She took it off and slipped on the third garment, but that too had some sort of flaw. As did the remaining three dresses she wore.
Amelia grabbed seven more dresses from the racks and dashed back into the changing room. The first, second, third and fourth dresses proved unflattering. However, on wearing the fifth gown her eyes widened with delight. The sweetheart neckline and embroidered skirt complimented her perfectly.
“May I come in, Miss?” Lillian asked.
“Of course.”
Lillian walked in clutching a rudimentary veil and secured it on Amelia’s head.
“As if it was made for you,” commented Lillian.
Amelia took a breath and declared, “I’ll take it.”
xxx
She came out of the cubicle dressed in her normal clothes and searched the room for Samuel.
“Where’s Mr d’Orleans?” Amelia asked.
“I believe he’s waiting for you outside.”
Lillian took the dress from her and sauntered to the office in the corner. Amelia stood where she was yearning for her future husband. It surprised her how much she missed him considering she barely knew him. Someone covered her eyes from behind and she spun round and chuckled when she saw it was Samuel.
“I suppose I should get used to that by...”
He didn’t let her finish and kissed her in that special, alluring way, making her knees buckle.
“I better go and pay for the dress,” he said, drawing back.
“Yes I, think you should.”
xxx
Amelia clutched a bag with her wedding dress in it and walked out of the shop with Samuel when he shoved her behind him. He scoured the streets to discover abandoned newspapers fluttering on the pavement, tree branches swaying in the breeze, and an uncanny silence that was a novelty in London. Gripping her arm, he escorted her to the car and opened the door. Amelia got in and huffed at his protectiveness. After shutting the door he disappeared from view and got into the driver’s seat in a fraction of the time it would take a mortal. As he drove on, the mood lifted and she drummed her fingers playfully on her lap.
“By the way how much did you pay for the gown?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” he replied.
“Samuel, I want to know how much you paid.”
“Don’t you like the dress?”
“I love the dress.”
“Then the price is irrelevant.”
She shook her head and looked out the window.
“I forgot to mention that I got your suitcase from your car this morning. It’s in the back seat.”
She looked behind and saw not only her red bag, but a worn out grey, plastic carrier.
“What’s in the grey bag?” she enquired.
“That’s my outfit for the wedding.”
Amelia reached for the plastic bag...
“No, you’re not allowed to see the suit until we get married.”
Her hand paused and she sat properly in her seat.
“We’re going to the wedding venue,” he said, clearly trying appease her.
She never gave much thought to where she would get married so it didn’t trouble her to think the venue was unspectacular. I would get married in a barn sprung from her mind and Samuel frowned.
xxx
That afternoon the car drove through a borough she recognised as ‘Kensington and Chelsea,’ having visited it a few years back. Her forehead creased not knowing why he’d take her there. Suddenly, she recalled the region’s main attraction; ‘Kensington Palace.’ The onetime home of Queen Victoria and the current residence of the future King of England
.
No sooner had she absorbed these fact than the car turned into a road, the end of which stood the magnificent edifice. She sat up straight taking in the centuries’ old building. The vehicle proceeded through an archway entrance into a courtyard surrounded by twelve foot walls and decorated by white and yellow flowers. He parked the car away from the rush of visitors and they both got out. A middle-aged lady with blonde hair came in through the archway.
“My name is Laura. I’m here to help you get ready,” the woman said.
Samuel took the bag containing the wedding dress from the car and handed it to Laura. Amelia ran up and kissed him on the lips and felt the coldness of his skin against hers.
“I will see you later,” he said.
Amelia nodded and followed Laura through the archway and into a narrow corridor.
“As a point of interest, this is where Queen Victoria and Prince Albert took their morning strolls,” remarked Laura.
The duo entered a corner room with a small interior and a dressing table and two identical stools in front. Laura hung the wedding dress on a rail while Amelia sat in front of the mirror.
“What style would you like your hair to be?” enquired Laura.
“I was thinking a French pleat style with a small fringe.”
“Good choice.”
Amelia’s long, brunette hair was brushed until it was tangle free and sculpted into an elegant French pleat. Then a newly-formed fringe was added creating an element of chic to the style. After which, Laura applied a subtle covering of makeup enhancing the bride’s already pretty face. When completed, Amelia stared at her reflection in the mirror and beamed with delight.
“You look stunning,” said Laura. “Now let’s get you into your dress.”
xxx
Samuel stood at the top end of the great hall in Kensington Palace wearing a pale blue suit with a white chrysanthemum in the lapel. He didn’t look a day over twenty four and had the same mesmerising appearance he had on his first wedding day. The great hall was an elegant venue decked with a hammer beam roof and walls strewn with Queen Victoria’s favourite tapestries. His senses detected odours dating back centuries some pungent enough to make him gulp. His attention switched to the priest who would carry out the ceremony. He was a short, portly soul wearing a tiny cross around his neck. The clergyman stayed several feet away from Samuel and looked pallid. Reading his mind, Samuel realised the man feared him.