Watch Over You (2 page)

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Authors: Mason Sabre

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Watch Over You
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“Go sit down,” she said to him. “I’ll bring it over in a second. Do you want a sandwich too? Some soup?”

Devan accepted and thanked the girl. He gave her something that didn’t look like money. It was green and small, and the girl dropped it in a jar on the counter at the back. Then he turned. Tara flushed as his eyes
swept over to her and their gazes met briefly.  He looked away quickly and focused his attention on the opposite side of the coffee house. Was he trying to be as far away as possible? It was simple moves, but despite that, it made Tara feel an odd sense of paranoia. The only available table was two seats over and rather than watch him, Tara tried to read her book again, but she couldn’t keep her mind focused. Her eyes kept lifting and staring. Unlike the women earlier, Devan noticed. He looked uncomfortable and Tara feared he would select the seat that put his back to her.

Instead, he sat in the seat that faced her and opened his book. After she had continued to stare at him for about a minute or so, he looked up as if unable to help himself any longer. “Is everything okay?” he asked her.

Startled, she sat upright. “I…er...” She took a breath and tried to calm herself. She had gone from slouching to alert in seconds. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I was just…” she didn’t know what words to use. “What does it mean about coffee on park?”

He smiled then. Perhaps he feared she would ask something else. Maybe it was just that he was used to being treated badly. She didn’t know, but she was glad of the smile, and she smiled back. Despite his shabby appearance, his smile was warm and inviting. “It’s what people pay for. For people like me.”

“Like you?” she wondered what that meant, and the question left her mouth before she had chance to think. She cringed as she said it.

“On cold days like today, it isn’t easy to get a warm drink. People pay to park them for the homeless, or even the poor. They come here for a hot drink. Sometimes, something to eat.”

“You’re homeless?” she asked, forgetting herself. She realised she had been rude when his face changed to hurt and then he went back to his book without answering her.

She wanted to ask him more questions; they were there in her mind, dancing around to annoy her, but his head was down, and he didn’t pay her any more
attention. With a sigh, she decided to leave it alone. Maybe it was time for her to go home. She thought to apologise, but instead she put her book in her bag, stood and pulled on her coat.

As she went to leave, she glanced over to Devan and then the girl from the till who gave him his coffee and walked to pick up an empty mug from by the door. Tara couldn’t leave without buying the next person a coffee. What if tomorrow there were none left?

“Excuse me,” she said to the girl. “She took her purse from her bag. She didn’t have much herself, but at least she was warm. She pulled out a twenty and offered it to the girl. “Can I put this towards the park thing? For food, or coffee, or whatever?”

“Of course,” the girl said and took it. “It’ll be much appreciated. More than you know.”

She didn’t know if she should, but she knew if she didn’t ask, she’d regret it. “That man over there,” she whispered.

“Devan?”

“Yes. He’s homeless?” The girl’s expression changed at that, just as his had before. Was it really such a bad question? “I’m just curious, I didn’t mean any harm,” Tara added before all the walls crashed down on her.

“He came here looking for his sister three years ago; he’s been homeless ever since I’ve known him. He helps people. Fills in forms and things like that.”

“He hasn’t found her?”

“Not my place to say,” she said.

“He helps people?”

“It keeps him busy,” she said. “He comes here, sits with forms and books and god knows what else. Every street kid he finds, he gets them into a home or somewhere safe, even if it’s just one night. When he is offered something himself, he asks
How can I have warmth when children are outside
? He gives his spot away every time. He used to work with this guy; I guess that’s how it got started. The guy helped him look for his sister and together they helped others.”

“What happened to the guy?” Tara asked. Some part of her was afraid of the answer.

“He died, not long after I started here. Car accident.” Tara thought she saw the girl’s eyes well up, but she blinked it away. “He got me this job. Without Eric or Devan, I don’t know where I’d be today.” The girl looked over to Devan and then back to Tara. “Thank you for the twenty,” she said and walked away.

Tara couldn’t help but look to where he sat, but all she saw was an empty seat, with a mug and an upturned book. He was gone.

*    *    *

Devan couldn’t stop the beating of his own damn heart as he slid around the back of the coffee shop when she wasn’t looking. She was so damn close. He could feel her. She was exactly the same, but she had no idea who he was. He had cursed when he’d seen there were no other seats except the one close to her. He didn’t want to be that close to her. He’d thought about taking the seat and not facing her, but he couldn’t. Then he’d
spoken. He’d wanted to slap his own hand over his mouth at that moment, and when she had spoken back and he’d heard her voice, he thought he was going to break for sure. He’d tripped over his words, and then she had asked the questions he didn’t want to answer, and he had ignored at her. He saw the hurt in her face, but that didn’t stop her stealing a glance at him when she thought he didn’t see.

When she left, he was so tempted to run after her and tell her who he was. She could help and fix everything. He could feel the sadness radiating off her for her husband. It followed her around like some dark shadow with its claws deeply embedded into her shoulders. He had the answers that she needed, and maybe they would ease her pain a little. Maybe they would ease his too.

He hadn’t really seen Tara since the funeral. Not like this – up close and personal. On that day, he had stayed at the back and just watched. She hadn’t known he was there. Just like now. He could see her through the window. She stood outside and cast her face up to the rain. He strode across the coffee shop. It was empty now. Her absence made it dark. He walked right up to the glass in a trance with only her in his sights. Nothing else existed. He reached his hand up and touched it; almost as if it was water and he could reach through it and turn her around. She didn’t turn, though. She didn’t look back. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her hair, put her head down and then walked away. He let her. He was a coward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

The coffee shop was busy but quiet. Almost all of the seats were taken. People chatted and laughed with each other, sharing coffees and muffins, teas and croissants. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee flowed out as Tara opened the door and stepped inside. She held her breath in anticipation as she glanced around the seats and tables for him, but he was not there. Devan - she didn’t know why he stuck in her mind the way he did. What was it about him that drew her to him? He was just some poor homeless guy who she didn’t even know.

He invaded her every thought, though. He was like a song stuck in her head. Everything she did, he was in the back of her mind. She tried many times to just read or paint, but each time, she found her mind wandering. What was he doing? Was he cold? Was he hungry? Some days she could hardly eat for the guilt that twisted in her gut. How could she sit to eat in the warmth while he was probably starving?

She headed to the counter and, as always, browsed the board of specials. She didn’t know why she did that either. She never got anything different. She thought sometimes that she might. Many of them sounded delicious and inviting, but there was a fear inside, and she couldn’t quite break the habit.

“Can I take your order?” the young girl asked.

Tara smiled. “Just a latte, please.”

“Anything to eat?”

Tara eyed the foods in the chiller that looked so appealing. Shelves of mouth-watering cakes and handmade sandwiches, baskets of fruit and jars of cookies were lined up neatly, aimed to entice. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten properly, but she wasn’t hungry. She shook her head. “No, but…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Can you put the change from this on park?”

The girl’s smile broadened then. Tara had been coming into this shop for the five weeks since she saw Devan. The girl asked her to wait at the end counter as
they’d serve her coffee there, but she knew that. This coffee shop was the same as the one she and Eric would visit. The same layout, the same smells; the only thing different was the address.

She didn’t take the same seat, though. She wanted one where she could see the door. It was foolish. She knew that. These last few weeks she had spent so many hours just sitting, drinking coffee and trying to read. She was sure the girls behind the counter would begin to feel sorry for her. They probably laughed at ‘that poor woman’ - always on her own, always here for hours, with nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon.

She saw the odd homeless person come in. She always felt such joy each time they asked if anyone had left anything on park.  Her heart swelled with elation to see the way they smiled when the girl said yes. Just sitting there watching, she started to become familiar with their names. Josie was the older lady. She wasn’t homeless as such. She had her own place - if it could be called that. She’d heard her talking to one of the girls a couple of weeks back about it. She had ordered herself a tea and some toast. The girl had told her to sit and she would bring it to her when it was ready. Then, when the girl brought it over, she had sat and chatted for a few minutes. Tara hadn’t been able to contain own smile at the sight.

Tara realised why Eric got such joy from the things he did. She didn’t know what they were, of course. He didn’t really talk about it, and her own resentment had stopped her from asking. She hated how his job had taken him away. He had thought he had forever, though. It all made her miss him more.

The door opened and it made Tara glance up from her book. For just a second, her heart leapt and her mind got excited. But then, as always, it wasn’t him and everything fell back down to a level more disappointing than the last. “What am I doing?” she whispered to herself. Her heart hurt from a longing she thought she had numbed. Somehow the emptiness Eric had left felt bigger than it had before, and she all but gasped to try to keep herself steady from it.

Lifting her book up once more, she tried to read. God knows she had read the same sentence at least ten times already. She fidgeted in her seat and tried to get comfortable. She tried with little success to cease her obsessional staring of the door, but each time a shadow moved across, or someone came near, her mind leapt into action. What if? What if this time it was him?

She closed her eyes and visualised him coming into the coffee shop. She saw his tatty clothes and blonde hair. What would she even do if he did actually come in? What would she say to him?
Hey, I’m stalking you for reasons I don’t know?
It was crazy and she knew it.

The young assistant came over with a pot of coffee in her hand and a tray. “Would you like some more coffee? Another latte perhaps?” she asked Tara.

Tara thought for a moment, her attention drifting from the girl to the door and then back again. “I should really be getting off now, so much as I’d like to sit here all day, I have a job to get to,” she said, but the words felt like a lie even to her. Her brain yelled at her to say
No, I want more coffee. I am staying here.
But instead, she just smiled, and the girl sauntered to the table opposite to serve the couple sitting there.

Tara sighed at herself. She felt her sorrow deep inside, like darkness coming in and forcing itself through the edges of the light she pretended was there. She put her book in her bag, stood and pulled her coat on. She slung the bag over her shoulder. This had to be the last time she came. She couldn’t do this to herself anymore. She hadn’t been to the coffee shop she and Eric would use since she saw Devan. Next week, she vowed to herself.

In her mind she said goodbye. Not that she was sure to whom, Devan perhaps, or the girl, or the coffee shop? Distractions from Eric? She felt something deserved a goodbye. Every day was endless without Eric. There were so many things undone So many things they hadn’t had time to do. They’d had forever. It happened to other people, not them. She heard the crash in her mind; that moment when the car had collided with the barrier. She saw herself running back to where Eric lay, unmoving and eerily still. She’d been flung from the car and had somehow survived with only cuts and bruises. Eric had died. Tears pricked behind her eyes and threatened to fall. She made herself walk out.

Her mind resisted each step, weighted down by invisible mud. But for what? She wasn’t leaving anything behind that was actually hers. She was leaving thoughts; not even real memories, just daydreams and wonderings. She had to leave. For her own sanity or what was left of it at least.

Outside it was raining. It looked as though it had been raining a while. The street was laden with puddles, and the grey sky with its thick clouds promised more rain and storms in the distance. She stood there for a moment, breathing in lungfuls of chilly air. She was thankful that it wasn’t as cold as it had been recently. People still busied themselves, passing her by, in and out of shops, going about their day and forgetting they were alive.

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