Half an hour later they disembarked the bus holding hands. Their fingers interlaced as Bray led her along a busy street to a parked taxi. He opened the door for her to climb in.
“Enfield, please mate,” Bray said, using his London accent once again. The driver nodded, barely giving them a second glance before pulling out onto the road.
Elora turned to Bray, about to ask him what was at Enfield when he stole the words from her mouth by kissing her on the lips.
The movement was so sudden and unexpected that her mouth was still parted, and he ended up kissing her teeth. She felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment as he chuckled, putting an easy arm around her.
“Relax. There’s nobody following,” he said.
Elora nodded and forced a smile. “I’ll relax when my uncle is safe.”
After Bray paid the driver they set off walking down a high street full of betting shops, off licenses and closed takeaways. The majority of people they passed were Asian and didn’t give them the slightest acknowledgement. At the end of the row of shops was another bus stop and Bray picked up the pace to catch the red lion bus before it departed.
The driver was about to set off but noticed them at the last moment and let them on. Bray paid once again and led them to the only available seats, passing a couple of female college students whose eyes widened as they watched him squeeze by.
As the bus joined the traffic they kept glancing at his reflection in the window and whispered to one another, giggling. Elora couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She narrowed her eyes at them; didn’t they see that he had a girlfriend? Even if it was only pretend. Leaning in close, she pulled his face towards hers before planting a kiss on his lips and holding it longer than she had intended.
Bray seemed surprised at first but returned the kiss, smiling as she pulled away. Her eyes went back to the students whose expressions took on a sullen quality. They got off two stops later but not before one of them turned to give Bray a smile, all white teeth and makeup. Elora thought she was attractive and fully expected Bray to smile back. Instead, he looked the girl up and down, his face showing indifference. The girl, at seeing his reaction, stormed off the bus to join her friend. Elora couldn’t help but feel a tinge of satisfaction as he leaned into her and gave her another kiss. This one more passionate than before. It left her feeling breathless, her heart thumping in her chest. She had to remind herself that it was only pretend. The girls glanced at them as the bus passed and Bray chuckled making her laugh too.
They got off the bus at the next stop at a more residential part of London although Elora couldn’t guess where they were, apart from it was somewhere towards the north of the city.
Bray led her through housing estate after housing estate, each one looking like the other. A labyrinth of red brick and pavements. Yet Bray led the way as easily as if he had lived here all his life, although his accent told otherwise - that was if his accent wasn’t another act.
Eventually the well cared for properties began to look a little tired as they progressed. The high-end German cars parked on well-kept drives giving way to dated run-arounds squeezed together on the road. The occasional shop changing from a Waitrose or wine shop to a corner shop or bookies.
As the sun began to sink below the roofs of a block of flats they turned down a dimly lit road where there were no cars parked, or shops or even signs of life. Bray led her to the end block of terraces that were set slightly back from the rest. The street lamps were unlit and cast no light into the shadows that seemed to consume the buildings.
He turned down the garden path to the middle house, its gate hung on one hinge, the wood rotted. The front lawn was overgrown, the grass gone to hay and poking through the cracks in the stone path. An ancient willow loomed over them, forcing her to duck low to avoid being whipped in the face and as she cast her face aside she noticed that a cellar window had been smashed through and was boarded up. Like most houses on the road, the place seemed derelict and unfit for human habitation. So Elora was surprised when Bray knocked heavily on the front door.
Chapter 7
Gurple
As they waited under the canopy of a porch, its paint peeled back and blistered, Elora noticed that she couldn’t hear anything from the houses around: no televisions, nobody chatting or music and nothing to indicate that there were people living in the street. It gave the area an ominous quality. She shuffled closer to Bray, expecting him to place his arm over her - he didn’t. So, the pretence of boyfriend and girlfriend was now over.
What had she been expecting? That they carry on the facade even when there was nobody about and now that she glanced at him, his face in shadow, she could see that his features returned to being stern. It brought back the loneliness she had felt since Nat’s kidnapping.
Folding her arms, she stepped away from him, acting like she didn’t care but feeling the opposite. He was a cold hard killer, she reminded herself. He slipped on different faces and changed personalities like a schizophrenic chameleon. He was probably incapable of feeling affection towards others.
A pale face suddenly appeared on the other side of the door’s frosted window, staring at them briefly before a bolt was slid back. The door swung in until stopped by a thick chain, an angular face with thick cheek bones peered through the gap. He regarded her accusingly before he turned his attention to Bray and his face broke into a warm smile.
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” the man said as he slid the safety chain off the door and swung it open.
He was tall with narrow shoulders, dressed in khaki trousers and vest with a thick tartan dressing gown tied loosely over the top. He was of an age with her uncle, yet his face appeared more weathered as if he spent most of his life outdoors.
“Norgie,” Bray said and gave a single nod as he stepped into the house leaving her outside on the door step.
The other man shook his head and chuckled.
“Shaigun he may be, but that lad’s got less manners than a hermit crab. Come on in lass, don’t dawdle out there on the step. We don’t want too much of the darkness coming in.”
Elora stepped through into the already dark hallway wondering how the darkness from outside could possibly follow her in.
The door closed behind her and the man turned on a lamp, filling the gloom with light. A fine dark mist, she hadn’t noticed until the light came on, began to slowly sink to the floor, curling around her ankles as it drifted under the door. She wouldn’t have believed what she saw until the man remarked.
“That damned darkness always tries to get in every time I open the door. It’s supposed to be gloomy outside, not in here.”
“It’s there for a reason. You’d soon miss its protection if it went,” Bray said.
“Most probably you’re right but it doesn’t stop my knees from aching, it gives me the chill.” He gave Elora a wink. “What’s your name then love?”
“Elora,” Bray said before she could answer herself. “She’ll be here until Diagus comes back. Then...” He shrugged his shoulders. “Is Prince Dylap in?”
“Yep. He’s been hanging about down there for the last week or so. He’s got his little knickers in a right twist over something,” answered the man as he removed a chain from around his neck and handed it to Bray. The chain had an old iron key attached to it.
Bray took the chain and without giving her a second glance descended a dark staircase that led from an opening to the left. Elora watched him leave and shook her head.
“Don’t take it personally love, he’s like that with everybody. He’s got a hard job; it makes a hard man. But I think his heart’s in the right place. I just wouldn’t say it to his face.” He smiled at her and held out his hand. “I’m Norgie.”
She shook it, “Elora.”
“Let’s get you settled in. Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” she answered, having not eaten anything since yesterday’s dinner.
“Good, we’ve got plenty in the kitchen. Hope you like roast lamb,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her down the dusty hallway.
She looked at the floor again as a final wisp of the strange black mist curled into the letterbox and disappeared.
