Where Loyalty Lies (6 page)

He held out the handle of the umbrella for me to take.

Casting a glance at the persistent rain, I shook my head. “You keep it,” I said. “You can give it back to me when I next see you.”

Holt’s expression melted into something between surprise and relief. “Thank you,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if he meant thank you for the umbrella or thank you for not writing him off as some crazy person.

I allowed myself another smile before turning and dashing inside.

When my alarm went off the next morning, I was already awake and staring at the ceiling. It turned out, being told that you weren’t completely human and that an even stranger human wanted to take you to vampire central was enough to stop you sleeping.

I’d spent my entire shift at the pub so caught up in my own thoughts that it was lucky that nothing more than pulling pints had been required of me. I’d barely been aware of my pig of a manager, Chris trying his best to irritate me as usual.

Then, despite being tired by the time I’d got home, I hadn’t been able to shut my brain off. I had a notepad and pen on my bedside unit and I’d spent all night writing down all the questions I’d thought about asking Holt.

Not sleeping through my alarm meant that I could have a lengthy shower and, for the last couple of minutes, I turned the temperature right down, hoping that the freezing cold blast would shock me out of my dazed state. It did partly work and, by the time I’d dried my hair and got dressed, I was feeling saner.

Extra concealer under my eyes covered up the beginnings of some dark circles that threatened to get worse if I didn’t get some decent sleep soon. I wasn’t worried, though, I just had to get through today and then I had tomorrow off from the cafe so I could sleep all day if I liked.

Just as I was about to pull the door open to leave, someone knocked on the other side. My heart raced a little at the idea that it might be Holt; fed up with playing Mr Patient Nice Guy he might have come to knock me out and drag me to Rillith. After taking a few seconds to prepare myself, I opened the door to find it was Ben.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

Ben jumped slightly at my harsh tone and his mouth flapped open and closed like a goldfish.

“Please don’t tell me you’re here to break in again,” I said. “What was that? A precautionary knock to see if the coast was clear? Well it’s not, so you can bugger off!”

I went to slam the door shut, but Ben put his arm out and I was forced to stop or crush his fingers in the door frame. As tempted as I was by the latter, I stopped last minute.

“You have five seconds to tell me what you want and then I’m shutting the door, regardless of what body part is in the way.” I threatened.

“I wanted to give you this.” Ben held out a wad of cash.

I hesitated. Surely he wasn’t expecting me to buy him beer or something with that? “Why?” I asked.

“It’s the money that I stole from you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it.”

I cautiously took the money. Despite the fact that it belonged to me, it still felt wrong to be taking money off a fifteen year-old. I glanced out into the hallway to make sure none of our neighbours were about to see this little event. I could only imagine what it would look like to see a young boy outside my place this early in the morning, giving me money. Luckily, though, the coast was clear. I stuffed the money into my pocket.

“I promised I’d return everything that I stole from you,” Ben continued. For a few seconds he stood staring at me like he thought I was going to hit him, then he stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of black material. It took about five good long seconds before I realised that he was holding a pair of my knickers. A shriek escaped my mouth and I snatched them from him, not caring that I’d done it faster than a normal person could have.

It was my turn to do a goldfish impression now. I stood gasping air while words like “disgusting” and “pervert” raced through my mind. I could feel my entire face flaming with embarrassment. Ben seemed to sense his chance to escape and, with another mumbled apology, he ran away.

I slammed my door.

“Yuck,” I shouted to my empty hallway. “Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck.” I was midway through my little tantrum when I realised I was still holding the offensive knickers. Letting out another little screech, I ran to the kitchen where I threw them in the bin and used up most of my soap washing my hands.

I was halfway to work before I’d calmed down enough to register the facts. Okay, so the whole underwear thing was revolting and would probably scar me forever, but the bright side was that, not only had I got my money back, but Ben’s mum had obviously got her act together. Ben really had seemed terrified, so maybe he wouldn’t break in again. 

Work felt torturous. Not because I was tired or because it was extra busy today, but because everything felt so pointless. It’s not like I’d ever thought waiting and cleaning tables was going to change my life, but now that I actually had an opportunity that would change my life forever, my usual life seemed so boring. I felt a bit like Cinderella but, instead of running off with the prince when he showed up, I was saying,
“Actually, I’m good here”
and staying to clean up after my step-sisters. Of course the prince in the fairy-tale was offering to marry Cinderella and whisk her off to live happily ever after, he wasn’t about to take her to the Adams family’s mansion where she could meet tons of scary vampires.

If Lisa noticed my moping, she didn’t say anything. I think she was still holding a bit of a grudge over my insult to her book. Of course it was difficult to tell whether she was upset with me or too engrossed in her book to pay me much attention. Either way, I barely got more than a few sentences out of her all day and, when I left at the end of my shift, I got a grunt and a half wave.

The idea of a couple of hours’ sleep made me pick up speed on the way home. That optimism was crushed, though, the second I entered the front doors of my building. My landlord, Mr Jackson was hovering and he made a bee-line for me before I’d even closed the door.

“Ah, just the person I was hoping to see,” he said before bearing his teeth at me like he was in pain.

“Um... Hi,” I said, unsure of exactly what he was doing. “Is there a problem? Rent’s not for another two weeks.”

“Oh no, there are no problems, nothing at all.” He did the strange thing with his teeth again. 

“Okay, well that’s good, then,” I said, making a break for the stairs. “See you round.”

“Right,” Mr Jackson said but, instead of finishing the conversation, he jumped into action and followed me up the stairs. I didn’t slow my pace.

“I just wanted to apologise for our little misunderstanding before.”

I frowned. We’d had some arguments in our time but I didn’t think any of them classed as misunderstandings. I walked a little faster, enjoying the fact that Mr Jackson seemed to be struggling to climb the stairs and talk at the same time. Well, maybe climbing up to the tenth floor would encourage him to get the one and only lift fixed?

“If I’d understood the extent of your problem, I would of course have taken the time to look at the security problems in your flat.”

If I hadn’t heard my bed calling to me, I’d have stopped in disbelief. What was he going on about? He knew very well the extent of my security problems and he’d never given a damn.

For a couple of flights we were silent, except for Mr Jackson heaving like we were about to top Mount Everest.

“Faine, please,” he said, coming to a halt. “Please, I’m not a young man; I can’t climb the stairs as well as I could in my younger days.”

I finally stopped. His comment would have been enough to give me a stab of guilt, but there were plenty of people older than him who’d had to climb these stairs every day for two months because the lift didn’t work.

Mr Jackson held out a set of keys to me. “These are your new door keys. I’ve had a locksmith here today and he’s changed your locks to a new design that has two different locks which are virtually impossible to pick.” He paused to take another couple of deep breaths before continuing. “I also had him fit a safety bolt on the inside of your door as well.” He bared his teeth at me again and I suddenly realised that he was smiling. Now I knew why he never smiled; he looked like the Cheshire cat with its leg caught in a bear trap.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely pleased despite the creepy smile. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge. Let’s just call it necessary building maintenance.”

“What?” He wasn’t known for his generosity. “You’re not going to charge me?”

He shook his head.

I narrowed my eyes. “Can I put a wreath on my door at Christmas?”

A squeak actually escaped Mr Jackson’s mouth and a flash of anger crossed his face before the creepy face was back, except now it resembled more of a grimace.

“Of course,” he managed to grind out.

Now I knew something was wrong. Last year we’d had more arguments than I could count over the fact that he wouldn’t let me put up a wreath. I was just about to ask what the hell was going on when a thought clicked into place.

Two people today had come to me with apologies and gifts. I’d had problems with them both ever since I’d moved in and then suddenly, on the same day, they both just happened to see the error of their ways? I didn’t think so. I studied Mr Jackson a little more closely; he was just as jittery as Ben had been, clearly hating every second of this but doing it anyway.

“Have you, by any chance, met my new friend? About six feet tall, brown hair, in his thirties, very handsome?” I asked.

Mr Jackson visibly flinched. “Yes, you can tell him that I did what he said and that I have unpickable locks on my own door too, so if he has any more complaints he’ll have to knock.” With that he scuttled off down the stairs.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered to myself as I finished the climb. It seemed like I’d just found myself my very own, rather scary fairy godmother.

As I shut the door to my flat and slid the bolt across, I couldn’t help but grin and it stayed pasted on my face until I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep in seconds.

It took everything I had not to tap my fingers nervously as I waited for Holt to arrive. When I’d left for my shift at the pub yesterday, the sight of the brand new bolt on my door had been enough to make me call Holt and ask if he could come and answer more questions I had.

Being my day off from the café, it had meant that I could lie in until ten and still have a couple of hours to clean like mad before Holt arrived. It wasn’t that my place was particularly messy, but I was nervous. I felt the way people must feel when their parents are coming to visit. So I’d cleaned and tidied and then realised that he’d only seen my home two days ago and so he’d realise if it was suddenly spotlessly clean. Sadly, I’d then spent several minutes making the place look slightly less tidy by leaving a book on the coffee table, a mug on the side in the kitchen and a jumper over the back of the armchair. Then I’d sat down and tried to convince myself that this behaviour was completely normal for someone in my situation.

Holt arrived spot on one o’clock, just as we’d arranged. He again looked exquisite, this time wearing a brown leather jacket over a white shirt. I had to admit that I was impressed by his gentlemanly manners of holding doors, umbrellas and being punctual. It didn’t escape my notice that he had a subtle check of the locks on the door when he thought I wasn’t looking.

He followed me into the living room. I wasn’t sure if I should offer to take his jacket and, before I could make a decision, he’d taken it off and draped it over his lap as he sat on the sofa. I sat on the armchair opposite him.

“How are you?” Holt asked.

“I’m good, very good actually,” I said, studying Holt’s expression.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Holt replied.

“In fact yesterday was a very productive day for me,” I continued.

“Really?” Holt’s expression didn’t change.

“Yes. Not only did the little bugger from down the hall return the money he’d stolen and swear he’d never break in again, but my landlord decided to change my locks and fit a bolt, free of charge.”

“Well that was a good day,” Holt said, still giving nothing away.

I grinned. Was he really going to sit there and pretend he had nothing to do with it?

“Oh and Mr Jackson said to tell you that he did what you’d asked and that he also has unpickable locks now, so if you have any further complaints, you’ll have to knock.”

Holt lost his look of innocence and frowned. “Bloody hell, I told him not to mention me.”

“Well, in all fairness, he didn’t. I figured it out and asked if he’d had a run in with you; he just didn’t deny it.”

“You figured it out?” Holt asked.

“Well yeah, it wasn’t that difficult,” I laughed. “I mean neither Ben nor Mr Jackson have ever been the least bit scared of me and yet there they were with their tails tucked between their legs and almost trembling in fear. Do I even want to know what you did to them?”

“I didn’t do anything. I just had a little chat with them,” Holt said.

“A chat?” I said sceptically.