In the Shadows (The Blaisdell Chronicles) (3 page)

My voice lowered again slightly. “Why? Is she
a little—?”

I stopped what I’d been planning to say. Nobody wanted to be called crazy.

He smiled, probably guessing my thoughts. “Nothing like that. She was a trainee under the wing of the previous waitress. Jen would moan to anyone who’d listen that she was bossy and cruel, and she felt like Cinderella.”

“And was this other woman really like that?”

“Hardly. She was heavily pregnant. I only saw her on a couple of occasions before she went on maternity leave, but it did look as if she was struggling. I think she was justified in asking for more help.” His tone became playful. “But don’t you go telling Jen I said that.”

I controlled my urge to smile. “I won’t.”

He extended his hand.

“I’m Alex. Alex Craven. You are?”

“Lucy Blais—dell,” I faltered as I took his handshake. A wave of dizziness swam through my head, several images swirling around, too scrambled to decipher. I felt his hand disappear from mine and everything was normal again. My fingers touched my temples, uncertain of what just happened. I had skipped breakfast earlier, eager to escape one of Mum’s burnt bacon sandwiches. Perhaps that was why.

Jen’s face came into view. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

I shook my head, but the slight unsteadiness on my feet proved otherwise. Perhaps I should order some food, just in case. After ordering a vanilla cupcake loaded with sprinkles and frosting, and a hot chocolate with a marshmallow, I took a seat by the window, trying to forget about what had just happened. The sky had dulled to mottle grey since I came in, and streetlights were beginning to come to life, but I had the strangest feeling I was being watched. I turned around and saw Alex by the door, looking over. I saw Jen pouring coffee, totally oblivious to him, but when I turned back, he was shaking his head, smiling. He was looking at
me
? Uncertainty crept through my blood. Why was he looking? Did he like me? I glanced at Jen again and sighed. Her vanilla blonde hair was held back in two ponytails that just skimmed her shoulders. Her skin glowed like a kiss from the sun. She was much prettier, yet his gaze was most certainly on me. He was still there when Jen returned with the cupcakes and hot chocolate, taking the opposite seat. But when I sipped the drink, I almost dropped it onto the table again when the hot liquid scorched my tongue.

“I
did
say it was hot,” said Jen, as she pulled a cloth from her apron pouch and wiped the spilt drink.

Had she?

“S-sorry,” I stammered, tearing off a piece of cake and popping it into my mouth, relieving my tongue from the burning pain. I glanced back towards where Alex had been standing, only to find he was gone.

Jen’s
blue eyes were assessing me, yet she kept her opinion to herself. She allowed me some time to eat my cupcake, but decided to quiz me whilst the hot chocolate cooled.

“About the waitress job. It’s been advertised for a week and nobody has applied.” She smiled, edging closer as she whispered the last part. “At least, nobody that
Frank knows about. He’s the boss by the way. Don’t worry, he’s really easy going once you know how to handle him.”

She pulled away. I had to tell her I wasn’t applying, but she carried on speaking.

“You should count yourself lucky that I’m interviewing you. Since he’s either out or up in his pokey little hole of an office, he doesn’t see the hard work I go through each day. Being a waitress can be really boring, especially when you’re on your own. So I decided
I
should select the successful candidate. After all,
I’d
be the one working with them, not
him
. It’s only fair my colleague is fun and not a total dork.”

It became pretty obvious Jen had decided to hire me for a job I wasn’t even applying for. I glanced over to my usual booth with Sarah, now empty. The once scarlet red leather seats had faded, and creases could be seen like an old man’s skin. Time had moved on and I realised I couldn’t dwell on the past. Mum hadn’t. Besides, I needed to find a way to make Mum stop worrying.

“So, will you take the job?”

Jen’s eager expression transformed into Mum’s, and with a nod, that was it. I had decided to take a chance. It hadn’t exactly happened the way I’d have thought, but there I was, on the way upstairs with Jen, to meet my new employer, Mr
Frank Whitmore. Jen had been right when she said about his office been a ‘pokey little hole’. The door wouldn’t fully open, and we both struggled to enter. I tried to close the door behind us, but it was impossible. A short, round man with slicked back hair began to rise from behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of papers that teetered precariously, as tall as him. Something about his face tickled the back of my mind, although I had no time to dwell on it. Jen explained things, and he leaned over to shake my hand. I tried to ignore the clamminess of his skin, and smiled politely, happy that my head was no longer spinning. The snack must have helped.

“Jennifer, it’s my job to conduct the interviews.”

“But Dad!” Jen groaned, arms slumping at her sides.

Dad?

Mr Whitmore held up his hand. “You may be my daughter, but I’m still the manager, and
your
boss.”

Jen stamped her foot. “It’s so
unfair
. You know what happened with Lorraine. I want someone my own age, not some old dinosaur!”

“She wasn’t an old dinosaur. Lorraine wasn’t quite forty.”

Jen changed tactics, nudging me forward, until my knees knocked into his desk. “But I’ve already offered her the job. It wouldn’t be fair if you took it back now.”

Mr Whitmore’s elbows rested on his desk, small, fat fingers twisting against each other, as he met Jen’s eager gaze. After a long sigh, his attention turned to me.

“Very well. Lucy, welcome to Whitmore’s Coffee House. Why don’t you sit down somewhere and we can have a chat?”

I walked home that evening, not having enough money for the bus fare, but after my first payday, I would start using public transport. It had still been warm in England before our trip to France. Now in October, temperatures had plummeted, and I inwardly cursed myself for wearing only a short-sleeved blouse and a lightweight jacket today. With a rub of my arms, I continued on. There were some perks in becoming a working girl. I’d be going out every day and making my own money, which meant I’d no longer need Mum’s credit card for Christmas gifts, although I doubted my salary would cover last year’s expense. But that wouldn’t bother Mum. She’d be elated when she found out I was taking small steps to re-joining the outside world again. Hopefully.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts, I wasn’t paying any particular attention to where I was heading. After a while, I realised where my feet had taken me. Even in the waning daylight, there was no mistaking where I was. I hadn’t planned on coming here. Or had I? Digging into my pocket, I felt the unmistakable crinkle of his letter. I suddenly realised what day it was. Looking around, everything seemed pretty much the same. Streets lined with dirt and overturned rubbish bins, and graffiti spreading profanity over garage doors. I kept my head down as I always had. My heart caught in my throat when I stopped, standing across the street from my old house. The curtains were drawn over, masking tape stretching across the glass. The wooden gate still lay against the low outer wall, never to be fixed. I glanced to my old bedroom window, feeling the trepidation rise in my blood, and noticed the light was switched on. But then, I realised it wasn’t my bedroom light. Flames re-appeared and grew wildly, licking the curtains, as the pole came crashing down. Beads of perspiration formed across my forehead, and my lungs fought to regain the disappearing air. One hand was on my heart, trying to steady my breathing. The other was on the wall for support, when I began to feel my legs giving way. Nothing was working. No. No! Not again! I had to escape. I had to live. Forcing my legs to work, I turned and ran, my heart pounding in my ears.

With my eyes closed, I inhale the air deeply, still vibrant with pollen. Birds chirp in the tall trees, feeding their young, and I can taste the salt on my tongue from the nearby coastline. I open my eyes and sigh, noting my two maids not far away. After this morning’s unpleasant encounter, I decide to walk around the grounds of my father’s estate. My mother used to bring me here after her piano and singing lessons. Although my voice is pleasing to many, I cannot play the piano as well as she could. She would reassure me constantly, taking me to Hunter’s for an ice to console me. I can still remember her words.

‘Playing the piano may not be your best quality, but rest assured your beauty and your voice will aid you greatly, when the time comes to seek a husband.’

Mother. I sigh, touching the gold locket around my neck and flick the clasp open. How I sorely miss her. Father loved her so, and would have done anything for her, if she had provided him with what he wanted. But the price of his desire had cost him too much.

I stroll further from my maids, when I overhear light chatter followed by some grunts coming from behind the trees that are just ahead. I have not ventured that far alone before, as it is beyond my father’s estate. Curiosity takes over. I glance over my shoulder, unable to see my maids, and slowly, I move in the direction of the noises. They grow louder and louder, and my heartbeat seems to follow suit. I could get into trouble for this, but I am
seven and ten years. I hear male voices coming from right behind this tree, with the twisted root raised from the soil. Slowly, I peer around, to see two gentlemen sparring in their loose shirts and breeches.

“Now, come at me again,” the older of the two gentleman commands, raising his sword.

The younger gentleman is bent over, panting, his head hanging low. Struggling to regain his breath, he slowly stands. Beads of perspiration run from his face. He wipes them with his sleeve. “It’s no good. I’ll never get this right.”

As both stand opposite one another, I suddenly realise I recognise one of them. The younger gentleman is the same gentleman from last night’s ball! Carefully, I take a small step closer.

“I know you are finding this hard, sir. But the Prince Regent needs strong men for his war against the French.”

Sir? The elder gentleman must be his trainer. But who is the younger gentleman?

The gentleman holds up his arms, revealing an array of fresh cuts grazing his stomach. He slumps to the ground, dropping his sword and rests his arms on his upright legs.

“Look at me! I’m hardly a strong soldier.” He shakes his head, dejectedly. “No wonder everyone hates me.”

The trainer rests his hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

“They’ll come around, sir.”

“Nobody would want a man who cannot protect her for a husband. Even she didn’t.”

The trainer scoffs. “Are you still referring to her?”

“She was also ostracised from society. I know how that feels. I thought...I thought...”

Everything falls silent, apart from the light rush of water from a nearby stream and the soft humming from bees. Several moments lapse before anyone speaks again.

“She was no lady, sir. Forget her. Move on.”

The stranger looks back at his trainer, slightly bemused. “Lady
Stark? Her words did hurt, but I’m now healed. Fear not, Sampson, for I no longer pine for her.”

“That’s good to hear, sir. There are many other beautiful women out there. Who knows where you may meet one?”

The call from my maids punctures the air, making me jump in alarm. I turn quickly, and in my haste, stumble over the tree’s twisted root. I panic, struggling to free my foot. I look up to find a solid, faded Hessian boot before my eyes. The stranger is crouching down and his eyes, his beautiful icy blue eyes, are locking into mine. I feel his hand pull my foot free from the root. His face is so close; I can feel his breath against my skin. When my maids call again, I know I must thank him and leave. He opens his mouth, as if wanting to speak too. But when the heat pinches my cheeks, I find I have become mute. I rise and turn, lifting my skirts and run towards the house, feeling his strong gaze on my back.

“You’re doing well, Lucy,” said Jen, brightly. “I wish you’d stop worrying so much.”

With a hesitant smile, I carefully poured the coffee into the cup, taking care not to spill any. It was ironic she said I was doing well. She couldn’t hear my mind buzzing as I tried to remember each customer’s order, where they were sitting and how to work the till. I could see now why people loathed Mondays, although my reason was to do with my lack of sleep after last night’s vivid dream. Mum had come in again, but only when I told her the dream was pleasant, did she leave. That part was true. The handsome stranger from my dreams had caught my attention. I almost didn’t want to rise for work. I would have preferred to go back to sleep and find out who this man was. But my alarm clock wasn’t as forgiving.

Jen’s gentle clamp on my shoulder felt much heavier than it should, and I almost spilt the coffee I was placing on the saucer for the elderly lady.

“Careful with that,” said Jen, unclamping my shoulder.

After I’d given the old woman her coffee, I went back behind the counter, sighing with relief when there were no more customers to serve. I glanced at my watch, realising I’d been at work over five hours already. Derek had been pleased I’d now be working, but Mum was a little less enthusiastic, as she’d hoped I’d have gone to college instead. I’d told her I needed time to consider my options and work things out. Mum had tried to protest that I was clever enough to do anything, if only I’d look at some college courses, but thankfully Derek had intervened, saying I wasn’t eighteen yet, and I had my whole life in front of me. He’d gone on to say they should be happy I was doing something instead of staying in my bedroom all day. Mum had stared back at him, silent words exchanged, and with a wink from Derek, she’d giggled and they kissed in that cringing way that always made me vacate the room. I shuddered just thinking about them. Mum had been besotted with Derek since they met just weeks after Roger’s arrest. Roger. The reminder of what had happened last Friday made me shudder, but I shook it off. I was already used to Derek being with Mum and living with him in a better part of Briggstow. No, it was best to leave things the way they were. Besides, I’d probably only end up disappointed again.

When Jen realised there were no more customers, she suggested we take a break together. She brought over two cups of tea and a couple of
those delicious cupcakes, as I sat on a chair in the corner.

She took the seat opposite, the chair’s legs creaking over the tiled floor.

“So, Lucy, tell me about yourself.”

I choked on the tea, feeling the warm liquid trickling down the wrong way. She wanted to know about
me
? The idea didn’t sit well in my stomach. I couldn’t tell her the truth. She’d really think I was a loon. If I had any hope to make and keep a friendship, she could never know. 

“You know,” Jen
said, in between licking frosting from her fingers. “Where you’re from, what you like, what you don’t like, if you have a boyfriend. The usual.”

“Oh.” If that was all she wanted to know, then I could tell her that in all honesty. “Well, I live locally in Briggstow. I like reading and music. I don’t like spiders, though.”

Jen slowed in her eating, watching me with increasing curiosity. Had I said something wrong? I smiled nervously, and quickly continued. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Do you like partying? Going to nightclubs?”

“I, er, haven’t been before.”

Her eyes narrowed, like she was observing me through a microscope. “Who was your last boyfriend? How did it end?”

I bit my lip hard until it almost became numb. Why did she have to ask such awkward questions? I could make something up, but I hated lying, and wasn’t very good at it anyway.

Jen suddenly leaned closer, bracing the table and spoke in a dramatic voice. “Oh. My. God. You’ve
neve
r
had a boyfriend, have you?!”

I dipped
my head, hoping to hide my embarrassment behind my hair, but I’d forgotten that I’d put my hair up today. It needn’t have mattered though, as nobody else was around to hear.

“I mean,
seriously
?” Jen pressed on. “You’ve never even...?” Her hand clamped over her eyes for a few seconds.

“Is it that important?” I asked, quietly. “Surely it’s best to wait—”

It was Jen’s turn to almost choke on her tea.

“Until
marriage?
This is the twenty-first century, Lucy.”

“I didn’t mean that—”

Jen swept around the table, grasping my hands together. “No wonder you’re so shy. You poor thing!”

I hid my relief when she took the empty plates and cups into the kitchen, but it was short-lived when she returned to the table. Sensing more treatment like I was an invalid, I quickly spoke up.

“Shouldn’t you tell me a little about yourself, now?”

Her scarlet painted lips smiled brightly, widening her oval face. “I live in Briggstow too, with my Dad.”

She paused briefly, making me wonder about her mother.

“I’ve had lots of boyfriends,” she pressed on. “
Two
of them lasted more than a month. So, don’t worry. I’m more than qualified to help you get a boyfriend.”

In school, I hadn’t need help getting male attention, but they had behaved like lovesick puppies. I didn’t want to be covered in their drool. I wanted someone different. Not some boy. A man.
A
real
gentleman.

The sound of the bell ringing above the door made me look up. Alex strode purposefully in, eyes frantically searching, and relaxed when he saw me. I could hardly believe he was here. Snapping out of my stupor, I stood up and, for some reason, offered my hand. He pressed a kiss on the back, without averting his gaze, making me blush. But then he released me, stepping back further and further, until he disappeared through the wall.

“Lucy, why are you standing up?”

I turned to my side, seeing Jen still sat down, looking up with a raised eyebrow. I looked at the door and the wall Alex had left through. I bit my nails and sat back down. Why had I imagined such a thing? Perhaps I really was crazy.

“I thought we had a customer.”

Jen stood, waving her hand across the coffee house, still empty. Alex wasn’t here. Nobody had come in. “You said Alex when you stood up. Do you
like
him?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said, pulling a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. “I don’t know him well enough.”

She folded her arms, eyes narrowing briefly. “I’ve known him for the three weeks he’s been coming in here for coffee and Danish pastries.” Her statement sounded like she was trying to better me. Then I began to wonder if there was more going on between Jen and Alex then I was aware of.

We both regarded each other simultaneously, as if she was thinking the same. When neither of us spoke,
Jen paused to take a long drink of her tea, her scrutiny making my seat burn. She opened her mouth, but when a family came into the shop, she sighed, and took their order.

I stepped outside after work, shivering against the cold breeze that slipped its way under my coat. The pavements had since been carpeted with a thin layer of frost. Everything was dark, apart from the amber glow from the streetlights. Sinking my chilled hands into my pockets, I walked slowly, thinking about what Jen had said about Alex. Or rather, what she hadn’t said. Was she interested in dating him? How would she feel knowing he’d been looking at me? Did she know? It was true I’d been enamoured by the twinkle in his eye and the dimple in his cheek. It was hard not to be. But I couldn’t risk my new friendship over some guy I barely knew. Then again, Jen
hadn’t claimed to be dating him, so surely she wouldn’t mind if something happened? Did I
want
something to happen? Or was I just drawn to his looks? I groaned audibly, and my stomach seemed to copy. I’d not eaten anything today except that delicious cupcake. The smell of burgers and fries coming from a fast food restaurant nearby tried luring me, but I couldn’t stop myself from yawning. It had been a tiring day, and all I wanted to do was to get home, eat, have a hot bath and go to bed.

It was only when walking down a side street, deserted apart from a cat disappearing into a bin, that my blood started to chill in my veins. Shadows loomed heavily ahead from the buildings on each side, the streetlights flickering on and off, making my exit ahead a mystery. I stopped, quite deliberately, and could hear someone else’s footsteps stop almost at the same time. Almost. Without looking back, ignoring the trepidation in my heart, I quickened my steps, but also heard someone else’s again. I slipped into an alleyway and found a plank of wood resting against the brick wall. There, I held up my weapon, trying to calm my nerves, and waited. Seeing the stranger’s long shadow stretch across my line of sight, I flexed my fingers around the wood. This was no time to be scared. When the dark figure appeared, pausing to look around, I waited another moment and then hit the stranger across the back of the head, knocking him down. I moved back into the street and stood a small distance away, keeping the plank of wood poised just in case. The figure rose, muttering an oath in a masculine voice.