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A Bleeding Coincidence., Page 2

Nora Black
you." She liked that, and laughed.

  "Wise and brave, then, aren't we?" She directed him back to the side road by which she had first fallen across his path.

  The house was more of a smallholding. A typical country home. Spotlights along the fence showed it to be bordering on affluent, rather than average (he should have guessed by the car).

  "Wow, nice place, who do you live with?" He asked the all important question.

  "It's not mine, I'm just looking after it for a friend while his away on business. I write screenplays so I can work almost anywhere." He hadn't got his answer. He pulled up in the drive, hoping she would invite him in.

  She looked over at him levelly.

  "Look, it's been quite a day, I can't believe how fast it all happened, or that I've come off so lightly. By all rights I should be dead, thanks for all you've done."

  "My pleasure, next time just give me a call before you plan so much excitement in one day, OK?"

  She grinned.

  "I think I've really put you off your stride, and out of your way. Where were you headed?" They were still sitting in his car, black clouds clung stubbornly to the horizon threatening more rain. The night, pitch and unwelcoming, made him shudder at the thought of having to go off and find a place to stay.

  "I was on my way to Kelso, new job, new life ..." He trailed off. It all seemed to have happened in another life, so long, long ago, he couldn't believe it had only been a couple of hours.

  "Look, it's a big place why don't you stay over. You can get your bearings back, and be on your way tomorrow. It is the weekend, after all." Her skin looked even more radiant in the half light falling on her from the spotlights through the windscreen.

  "That would be very good of you; I was just thinking that I didn't know how I was going to manage driving back into town."

  The house was ice cold, Darren shivered.

  "Light a fire, there's wood at the side of the grate, I've got lasagna in the freezer, and a bottle of Cabernet that is literally begging to be opened. All we need to do is add a green salad,"

  "Don't go to any trouble on my behalf, you should rest ..."

  "Get some warmth into this ice chest. I would eat even if you weren't here, so it's no extra trouble."

  She called him into the kitchen to help take the food to a coffee table in front of the fire. The kitchen was as sprawling as the living room was compact, with wide picture windows looking out over a treed courtyard. A granite work-bay stood at the center and an old fashioned copper extractor capped the hob.

  "Beautiful place, what does your friend do?"

  "Movies, he Directs, this is his country house, but he spends most of his time here ..."

  "Hey, don't look at me like that, I can see what you're thinking. He's gay, OK ..." she added, defending herself against his undeserved knowing look,

  "Sorry. You're right, but I wanted to know." There, it was out he had said it.

  "No I'm not, and yes I am. I'm not in a relationship, and yes I'm pissed off by what you were thinking." She picked up her glass, shook her head at him and left him standing there staring at their dinner. He liked her style.

  He set the tray down, laid out place mats he had found, carefully placed utensils in their positions for the two of them; he had made an effort,

  "I'm truly sorry Cassie, please accept my peace offering ..." He bowed dramatically, she laughed; he had broken the ice. He sat down next to her, she moved over giving him room.

  That there was a charge between them made it more, rather than less difficult for him to sit too close to her, he wanted to touch her skin. He made polite conversation, but knew that he would not remember much of what he had been saying; rather, he would remember how he had been feeling. The wine went straight to his head, and when he looked over at Cassie he could see that it had had the same effect on her. She was sitting back against the deep leather chair, staring into the fire with heavy lidded eyes. It had been a very long day,

  "Why don't we call it a night?" he said.

  "Oh, yes, I'm dead beat." He hadn't realized that she was being polite.

  "Sorry, I'm such a bore, give me the basics on getting to my room, I'll see you in the morning."

  He was up early, before the sky's light had rolled the world out for everyone to see. The kitchen smelled of ice and mushrooms. A good smell, a room he could happily live in. He investigated, obviously mushrooms, filter coffee, eggs, spring onions, cherry tomatoes, Haloumi, whole wheat, it was a cook’s kitchen. Before long he had breakfast cooked and coffee brewing. The aroma caught her and enticed her in, just as he had hoped.

  She looked delicious, sleep ruffled and dazed.

  "How you feeling?"

  "Worse actually, thanks. You?"

  "Good... Good."

  He slid a mushroom omelet, fried Haloumi, lightly roasted tomatoes and hot coffee in front of her. She looked up at him grinning, green eyes luminous.

  "Guess I could get used to this, thanks," but he could see that she looked a little confused at all the fuss he was making. Darren looked out at the day, pristine and rain washed, through the picture windows while he ordered his thoughts,

  "Look," he sighed. She shifted her attention from her plate toward him.

  "I feel as if fate has thrown you into my path. Sorry to be so candid, but honestly I don't think I want to drive off this morning without planning to see more of you."

  She twisted out of her seat and came over. She stood chin height, she reached up slid one hand into his hair, and tilted his chin towards her with the other, his insides melted at the taste of her. He knew he was enchanted long before she drew back.

  "There," she said calmly, going back to the table,

  "Feel any better?"

  What he felt was foolish for declaring his ardor so intently in the face of her cool dismissal.

  Her question had been rhetorical, but he answered anyway,

  “No, the only thing that will make me feel better is if you agree to come down to Kelso and meet me.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. It was that damn simple.

  *

  Kelso.

  Darren scanned the crowd in the coffee shop for Cassie's face, they had made arrangements to meet. It was Sunday morning, and although the bistro was full Kelso still seemed drowsy. When Darren thought about it, it still amazed him that it had all started on Friday, everything had happened so quickly. Like a tornado in fact, blasting all that was mundane onto the sidewalk; as if to make way for her.

  She hadn't arrived yet, he found a table and sat down. His eyesight seemed to be giving him a bit of bother, everything looked a little fuzzy around the edges. He resolved to get his eyes checked if they didn't improve quickly. The waitress failed to come over and serve him, she looked like a surly type, but Darren wanted to call Cassie first anyway, and find out where the hell she was. He dialed her mobile.

  "Hi, Cassie's phone, can I help you?" Brisk male voice.

  "Yeah, I'm waiting for Cassie, can you put her on the line?"

  "'Fraid not, Cassie's not taking any calls right now she had a pretty bad accident. She doesn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. Who can I say called?" The guy was annoying him now.

  "Who are you? I was involved in that accident with her. We made arrangements to meet only yesterday. Tell her it's Darren, I'll wait."

  "I'll do that, perhaps she'll call you back. If you were involved, as you say, you must appreciate how traumatized she is right now. She saw the guy who pulled her out of the car, the guy who had saved her, burn to death in front of her when her car blew. They reckon he was on his way to his car. It was a dreadfully shocking experience for her."

  Darren did not argue, there were a million things he could have said, but there was something about the day, the way people, including the waitress, were looking straight through him.

  "Hello, hello, is anyone there?" Darren swallowed hard, he let the phone fal
l from his hands onto the table. There was no denying it somehow he had known for a while. Damn.

  He walked out of the shop and into a tunnel of light. He thought he saw an angel....

  *

  The End.

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