“And nothing.” Mandy ran her hands over her eyes and then her cheeks, rubbing at her skin for a moment. When she put her hands back down to her side Ellie could see what she had been doing.
“Are you blushing?” Ellie asked, mouth gaped. “Mandy! Well, you have to tell us now.”
“I absolutely have to do nothing of the sort!”
“Oh, well you brought it up.” Amelia shook her head and giggled. “And if you don’t say then I suppose I’ll just have to guess at what it is. And ask you a bunch of questions. Is that what you want?” She paused. “Are you—”
“Alright. Fine. Fine.” Mandy cleared her throat. “I was your age once, Ellie. So, I know what it’s like…”
Amelia gasped. “Mandy! Did you have a lo—”
“That’s all I’m ever going to say about that.” Mandy held up her hand to silence Amelia’s protests. Then she turned her back and picked up her pace, motioning for Amelia and Ellie to follow her. “Come along, girls. We’re going to have to walk fast to get back before dark.”
Amelia and Ellie looked at each other, smiling girlishly. They ran to catch up with Mandy, putting their arms around her back from either side, and the three of them laughed like school girls all the way back to the shop.
Chapter 8
Ellie woke with a start, drenched in sweat. She sat bolt upright in the dark, her breath heavy and uneven. Her hands searched around in wide motions until at last she found something familiar. The soft linen of her bed sheets, the firm edges of her nightstand, and then the small tin matchbox, from which she took one match in trembling fingers. She struck it and the head of the match sizzled and ignited. The edges of the flame cut through the thick blackness and revealed what Ellie had already figured out: she was in her room and she was safe.
She pressed her palm to her chest and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Then she wiped her damp brow with the back of that same hand as the hand that held the match made a shaky attempt to light her oil lamp. The wick began to burn and she shook out the match, placing it on top of the small metal match box.
Yes, she told herself once more: she was here in her room, her parents, Mandy, and Amelia were in their rooms just down the hall, she was above the dress shop surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her. And she was safe.
But a moment ago she had not been safe at all.
She had dreamed she was walking through those desperate streets yet again. Vulnerable and all alone. She was back to the morning of the protest that had sidetracked her on the day she met Cal. She was back on the main thoroughfare that cut through the city, and she was being forced to take it to the place where it crossed the worker’s neighborhoods in the ring around the central commercial district.
She walked slowly, noticing how different things were here than even a few blocks in either direction. This was obviously a poor area, so unlike the wealthier neighborhoods in the outer ring of the city. The shops and buildings here were in need of some considerable repairs, women and children wore dirty, ill-fitting clothing, and street vendors set up shop amongst growing piles of refuse where they sold rapidly decaying goods.
But Ellie had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that said that this was as good as it got for the people living here, and that behind these sad and desperate surroundings was someplace even worse. Something awful was being hidden away from the sensitive eyes of the wealthy and the general public who passed through these streets, and only tiny glimpses of that truth were visible through the smokescreen. This truth was someplace sadder than Ellie could imagine and someplace that she did not want to go.
On that day, Ellie had not been forced to wander too far off the main roads, not even while running with Cal. But this time, in this dream, everything played out much differently. This time Ellie went off the beaten path. She went behind the rough but seemingly innocuous shops, past the muddy cobblestone to the place where it became nothing but mud, and she saw the truth with her own eyes. She saw the real way in which the workers lived. She saw the pain in their eyes and the hunger in their bellies. And she finally paired an image with the smell of death and decay.
She wanted to cry and scream and shout and hit something. Or someone. People didn’t live like this. People didn’t treat other people like this. People didn’t pretend this wasn’t real. She was in hell. She had to be in hell. These people had to be in hell.
But they weren’t.
None of them were.
This was Manchester for the working class. This was the truth of their existence.
She was suffocating, drowning in the hopelessness and misery. The energy of the place buzzed around her and encircled her, scratching and clawing painfully at her nerves. Her ears rang and her skin crawled. Darkness enfolded her from every side and closed in.
And that’s when she had gasped. Sitting upright in her bed, lost, alone, and confused.
Ellie looked to the lamp next to her bed, watching the flame dance around at the top of the wick, sparking and buzzing and chasing out the fear and darkness. Other light was beginning to come into her room now. The edges of her curtains glowed softly around the windows, and she went to them, throwing away the fabric and revealing the glimmering night sky. It was magnificent and ethereal, and she marveled at the idea that the same sky watched over so many differing types of days. She had waited for this day for so long, for a day when she would finally have the opportunity to do something meaningful and help others.
This would not be an easy journey, she knew this for certain, but making a difference would be worth all the pain, sadness, and wickedness she might encounter. Making a difference would be worth the fears. And at least she would not be alone. She had Cal… at least in some form.
They certainly sat on the same moral ground, but that told her nothing about where they sat with each other. Ellie was afraid, immensely afraid, that everything she felt the day before and that the way they connected with each other at the inn had disappeared the moment they parted ways. She now feared how they would be with each other—who they would be to each other—once they met again. As if either of them had understood those feelings the first time around, but that wasn’t the important part. It didn’t matter if either of them understood those feelings, it only mattered that they felt them. And that was what she was most afraid of. While they were at the inn they had become more exposed and real. They had relaxed into their true selves. They had allowed themselves to be vulnerable. It was as if the world had worked differently inside of those walls and Ellie wondered if they would ever be able to find those feelings again in different circumstances.
This unknown was nearly as frightening as what she might learn at the rally.
She dressed in a daze, insecure about the appropriateness of her clothes, as the white light of the moon ran over her like a river. She would have to hurry now to meet Cal in time. She hadn’t thought of a real proper excuse for where she was headed and at this point, she didn’t care. It was late evening, nearing the middle of the night, and there was a good chance she would be home long before anyone even realized she was gone. Besides she was a grown woman and could make her own choices.
Still, that tiny guilt nagged inside of her head urging her to reveal her plans.
“Out,” she would say if she must say something. Simply, “Out.”
She rapped her knuckles against Amelia’s door, knowing she would feel honored to be included in a secret.
Amelia answered, rubbing her eyes. “Ellie? Is everything alright?”
“Yes. Of course. It’s just that…” She wasn’t sure where to go from here. She couldn’t get her mouth to say it. Oh, dammit all, she cursed herself. She hadn’t gained that much confidence in just one day. The word ‘out’ did not seem so apropos now.
Amelia’s tired eyes opened with a wide shine. “It’s him isn’t it? You’re going to meet him.” She grabbed Ellie and pulled her inside the room, quickly shutting the door.
“Yes,” Ellie an
swered. Not quite the truth but not a lie either.
“Are you sure this is safe? It’s late and dark and you’ll be alone—”
“I won’t be alone for long. Hardly at all really. He’s meeting me a few streets down from the shop.”
Amelia’s eyes darted towards her window.
“And don’t even think about spying on me to get a look at him!”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Fine…”
“I should be back long before morning. But just in case, what shall we tell them all?”
“I don’t know! You’re the one running off!”
“I’m not running off…”
Amelia shook her head. “You say that now. But then he says something or does something charming, something far too charming for real life, and the next thing you know you’re following him around like—”
Ellie pushed out her bottom lip into a pout. Amelia knew far too much for someone so young. “I’m not following him around like anything!” She paused and sighed. “And what I’m leaving to do right now is not just about him. Really… Honestly.”
“Then what is it about?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Then it’s just about him.” Amelia’s eyes glazed over. “This is exactly how it happens in all of the books…”
“This isn’t a—” Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ve started an exercise routine. That’s it.”
Amelia tipped her head back, raising both eyebrows into something that might have been considered disgust. “An exercise routine?”
“Yes.” Ellie crossed her arms. “An exercise routine. It’s good for the constitution.”
Amelia’s eyes, somehow, grew even wider. “Ohhhh. An exercise routine….”
Ugh! Even Amelia understood the possible double meaning of that. Perhaps Ellie should read more books after all.
“I understand what’s going on perfectly now!”
Ellie felt her sensitive muscles constrict at the thought of the wicked things that Amelia was suggesting. Oh, if only. If only it were that simple. But nothing was that simple, definitely not this, and her muscles now began to tighten painfully. “No. That’s not what… I’m doing…” She protested through clenched teeth.
“But you want that to be what you’re doing… And that is what’s important.” Amelia retorted with a song in her voice.
Ellie sensed the growing redness on her face. “Fine. Whatever you think. So long as you say nothing of the sort to anyone else.”
“I won’t say anything about it. I’ll tell them about the exercise.” Amelia sighed. “Though I’m not sure if anyone will believe me.”
“They’ll never even need to know as long as I’m back on time. And even then they just have to believe it long enough to not worry about me. Besides, what reason do they have to think it’s not the truth?” Ellie felt a jolt. Of course they would believe the story. Ellie had always told the truth. Always. She didn’t like lying now, but always telling the truth had left her ill equipped to keep any secrets of her own. And she deserved some secrets. She deserved to be her own person.
So she left Amelia in her room and then went to the kitchen to pack up some food for the evening, just in case. She took a small amount of bread, cheese, and fruit, just enough that it would not be missed and expose her. But as she wrapped up the food in a cloth she frowned. She couldn’t stomach the thought of eating even a few merger morsels while people around her might have nothing at all. In the end she packed far more food than she could eat on her own, unconcerned with how curious it would seem when her family discovered it missing.
They could always make more bread and they could afford to go to the market at any time for some extra cheese and fruit. And Ellie would much rather explain this all to them than not take extra food for someone who might need it. Besides, having some extra food might come in handy. Food brought people together and that was exactly what they were going to need.
***
Cal crossed his arms and tapped his toe on the cobblestone as he waited for Ellie within earshot of her parents’ dress shop.
He was nervous, which was something he never felt, so didn’t know how to handle it. It made him feel uncomfortable and on edge. He tapped his toe faster as he took his pocket watch out of his coat and checked the time for the third time in… two minutes.
Where was she? She wasn’t running late, and he hadn’t expected her to, but he had hoped she might arrive early before he had time to change his mind about bringing her alone. Which he should. He very much should.
He tapped his toe quicker. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He wasn’t even sure why he had suggested it in the first place.
No. He knew why. He knew exactly why. He’d had plenty of time to think it over more since they left that room the day before. And it all came back to the same thing.
He was selfish. He was a bloody, selfish bastard who was making his decisions with a part of himself other than his brain. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was justifying his decision to take her to the rally by telling himself that it’s what she wanted and that she could help him. Which it was. And she could.
Those quiet charms and that unending compassion would really help her connect with the people, despite the nerves that would inevitably strike her. But even that was so bloody endearing that it was bound to make her so much more human and genuine. And trustworthy. That was exactly what he needed.
She was exactly what he needed…
God Dammit. He was just doing it again. He slapped his hand against the solid wall next to him, and winced slightly as the stone scraped his skin. But he didn’t care about his own pain right now or his own feelings. What he should be caring about was Ellie. Wonderful, beautiful, compassionate Ellie.
Cal couldn’t be sure how today’s events would go. The workers’ plight was such a sensitive subject. Maybe the evening would take a dangerous turn or maybe all would be well, but was he willing to take that chance? Was he willing to let Ellie take that chance… and all because he couldn’t man up and tell her who he really was for fear that she would reject him?
What was he thinking? He was a fool to think he would ever deserve someone like her anyway. She was a good person, one of the best he had ever met, and he had a keen way of muddling up the lives of good people. His mother, his uncle… Hart. Most especially Hart.
Not everything in their lives was or had been Cal’s fault. Certainly not his mother’s untimely death due to a lifetime of dealing with his father, or the pain his Uncle carried around inside his liquor bottles. Hart though… a great deal of the way that played out had been Cal’s fault. Not necessarily because of anything he’d done, but because of what he hadn’t done. This truth was exactly why Cal felt responsible for everything that happened around him. Even though he hadn’t caused their suffering, he’d done nothing to help them. That, he decided, was even worse.
That was why he had to do something to help the workers. In this case he was actually responsible—partially anyway as the mills had been in this condition when he inherited them—but that was of no matter anyway. Even if he was not responsible, he knew the truth. What sort of person would that make him, to just let people continue to suffer without even trying to help?
Even so, he felt unworthy. Doing good did not necessarily wash away the bad… and even if it did he had a lot of bad to wash away. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to wash away enough to be deserving of someone like Ellie.
And putting her at risk just to see her again was a bad start to figuring that out.
But then again, what would it say about him if he presumed to know her mind? Perhaps she did not need him to protect her. Perhaps if he told her she couldn’t come that would make her all the more determined to come anyway. And then she would be mad at him, which wouldn’t do any good for anyone.
And then there was that other pesky detail: that he was still lying to her about who he was.
He sighed, disappointed with himself.<
br />
Hell, his head hurt. He was overthinking and complicating everything.
He massaged his throbbing temples with his right hand and began to work at the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders as he thought.
That was it. He made his decision. When she finally arrived he would have to tell her he’d changed his mind and that he was going alone. That it was just too dangerous and just too—
“Cal? Who are you talking to?”
He jumped in surprise at that wonderful voice. He’d been so caught up is his own thoughts he hadn’t even seen her coming… or realized that he was flailing his arms about firmly and talking to himself.
He cleared his throat and pulled at the bottom hem of his worn jacket, straightening it. “No one. No one at all. I was just…”
“Talking to yourself?”
“Nooo…”
She laughed. “It’s alright. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone does it.” She frowned. “Well, I do it—so I always supposed everyone does it… but now that I think about it, I suppose that fact that I do it would be the very evidence to prove that no one else does it…” She contorted her mouth in a pleasantly thoughtful manner. “Well, anyway. I do it. If that makes you feel any better—though I don’t know why it would—”
“It does.” He smiled, suddenly so content with everything in the world. He wanted to laugh at himself for letting this happen every time he was with her. He didn’t know how she did it but he was glad that she did. She didn’t even have to say anything or do anything to make it happen, but every time she was near him he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort unlike anything he’d ever known before. A comfort that told him that no matter what happened everything was going to turn out just fine.
Maybe tonight would turn out fine.
Maybe even he would turn out fine.
“I’m glad.” She smiled in return as her cheeks lit up with a bit of rouge. “It’s something I’ve done since I was child. I used to have such a hard time getting out a complete thought because I would get so flustered. So, I’d do it to practice conversations… Were you practicing a conversation?”
Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel) Page 12