“Elora.”
He flicked a silver coin with his thumb as he talked, catching it in his palm, then flicking it again. “Why not come along for an interview? You’re exactly the kind of girl he’s after.”
“And what kind of girl is that?” she asked, watching the coin as it spun in the air.
Reuben smiled, but Elora noticed that his eyes were calculating, shining with an untrustworthy cunning that put her on edge. She was a good judge of character and her impression of him was less than good.
“A voice like an angel. And the looks to go with it,” he replied, slowly eyeing her over.
Elora laughed. “How many angels have you seen with black hair and violet eyes?”
“Maybe a dark Goth-angel then, I don’t know. But I’m sure he’s going to love you.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. But if I come back I’ll be glad to give you a call.” She watched the silver coin flick end-over-end before landing in his palm.
“Tails,” he chuckled. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. If it had been heads, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
Elora raised an eyebrow. He would have been swimming in the canal if he hadn’t taken no for an answer. “Really? What kind of businessman decides on the toss of a coin?” she asked, slipping the card into her pocket.
“Always leave chance with a small hand in any deal.” He gave her a wink. “I’ll see you later then.”
Elora watched him leave. There was a small shadow of doubt at the back of her mind. Had she been too hasty? By the time she had turned and continued her way home, she had decided that she would prefer the trip over anything. Besides, if things didn’t work out she had his business card.
As she neared the Molly she spotted her uncle out on deck, leaning against the cabin, hand resting on the tiller, waiting for her. A deep frown was drawing his wiry eyebrows together. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets, fighting to hide the guilt that rose from the pit of her stomach. Surely, he couldn’t have heard her sing? Gloucester Cathedral was more than five miles away.
He had gone ballistic when he heard her sing that song before, pleading with her never to sing it again. She couldn’t understand why; it was only a song after all, and she’d sung it with good intentions. But, simply by looking at the way he stood, frowning down, told her that he somehow knew.
“You heard me, right?” she asked, sighing.
Nat’s solemn face turned to her, blue eyes alive with hurt and anger, yet he kept silent.
“I’m sorry, Nat. I know you asked me not to sing that song, but what harm can it do? It’s only a song.” She readied herself for the rebuke, waiting for the scorching words that when they came would pierce her ears, like the last time. Maybe if she kept quiet and didn’t argue back it would be over in a few minutes. Let him have his say, show how sorry she was and then move on, job done.
After another minute had passed, Nat was still frowning down from the barge and she was still standing on the bank, waiting. Maybe he wasn’t going to shout at her after all.
She folded her arms, the silence growing more uncomfortable by the moment. This was worse than him ranting and raving and she hated it.
“Say something then,” she said finally. Breaking eye-contact but wearing a frown of her own, she stepped aboard the Molly and slipped past him to the cabin door. As she was about to disappear below, Nat grasped her firmly by the wrist.
“That song is dangerous, Elora. You shouldn’t go meddling with it.”
Nat’s voice was firm, but it wasn’t the venomous outburst she was expecting. Elora turned to face her elderly uncle. He suddenly seemed frail in a way she hadn’t noticed before. He was old, she knew that. Must be well past sixty, probably close on seventy. She wasn’t sure exactly. They didn’t celebrate birthdays and she wasn’t even sure when her own was. Sometime in the spring was all Nat had told her.
“It’s only a song,” she tried to pull her wrist free, but Nat held it firm.
“You don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand because you refuse to tell me anything. You don’t explain why it’s dangerous. You won’t tell me why we live on this stupid boat. You won’t even tell me about my mother or my life before we came here.” She could feel her temper rising, her blood getting hot. She tried to calm herself. It would only make things worse if she lost control but there was so much she needed to say, years of putting up with her uncle’s odd ways. He wouldn’t even explain why she had violet eyes.
“Enough!” he growled, anger finally getting the better of him. He held her arm for a moment more before letting go. Old fingers brushed through grey hair as he took a deep breath and sat down on the cabin step. Once he had regained his composure he continued with a more soothing tone.
“Maybe you’re right, Elora. I’ve gotten so used to you being my little Minu that I hadn’t realised how much you’ve grown. I suppose I’m getting to that age where memories become a little harder to find. Harder to explain straight. Could be you’re as ready as you’ll ever be.”
Elora struggled to believe what she was hearing. She kept quiet, anxious not to say the wrong thing and dissuade Nat from his apparent change of heart. She gave a weak nod, encouraging him to go on.
He remained quiet for a moment, the silence dragging out as it had before but with less of a charge in the atmosphere.
“Not now, not this minute. Let’s enjoy the rest of this afternoon. Tomorrow will be the day of explaining. We can talk then, although you might not like what you’re going to hear. ‘Ignorance is bliss’, after all.”
Elora opened her mouth, her words escaping before she had a chance to reel them in.
“Ignorance is for people who are too stupid or too cowardly to face the truth.” She inwardly cursed herself - he would change his mind for sure.
“And the truth could ruin your life,” Nat said. “Knowledge can’t be undone, can’t be forgotten. But you know your own mind Elora. The decision’s yours.”
Without missing a beat Elora replied.
“I want to know.”
Nat rose back to his feet and put his arms out to her. She went to his embrace. She hugged him back and rested her head against his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath his khaki shirt.
“Sorry I called your boat stupid.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“I know you didn’t mean it. Besides, she’s as much yours as mine. Now get some rest. We’re leaving early.”
Chapter 2
