Cinders: Necessary Evil (Magic Mirrors Saga Book 1)

by Sky Sommers

  ‘I’ll see you in bed,’ I say, making it sound more romantic than it is. ‘If you can’t make it back before we open…’

  After the baby, we rarely have…ahem…relations.

  Despite my earlier accusations, I don’t believe he’s cheating.

  No.

  He comes home and to our bed on most nights.

  When he’s travelling I’m sure he just enjoys sleeping his fill from Henry keeping us up nights.

  It’s just the way he looks at me.

  Like I’m not someone he recognises.

  With 30 extra pounds, no wonder.

  It’s the feeling I get that he is afraid to touch me somehow.

  Like I would break.

  Or lose it somehow.

  He might have a point.

  I have lost it on many many many occasions.

  Being treated like a porcelain doll does little to add to one’s sanity.

  His hand slips out of mine and with it, I let go of my dream of having things how they used to be.

  Just the two of us, with our first-born on the way.

  We were so blissfully happy then.

  Peter was so excited.

  We both were.

  Thirteen years ago.

  With every miscarriage Peter’s excitement was replaced with more worry and more detachment.

  He told me it was painful for him to get attached only to lose another baby yet again.

  The ‘attachment’ also extended to me.

  Being around me.

  Feeling me up.

  Patting and petting me.

  Being intimate with me voluntarily.

  Not just for procreation purposes when I was ovulating.

  Painful to get attached…

  Try physically losing a part of you.

  When Henry finally came along a little more than three years ago, I think Peter was surprised.

  He didn’t believe our luck.

  Neither did I, for that matter.

  But then a whole swarm of new intimacy issues surfaced.

  You try wanting your partner on a sleep-deprived angry brain that just keeps screaming ‘Leave me the hell alone, I need to sleep!!!’.

  I thought this was going to be temporary.

  If it’s not feeding the baby every two hours, it’s teething and rocking him every ninety minutes. If it’s not teething, it’s potty training. If that has been accomplished, it’s the nightmares.

  I have to commend Peter - he stayed.

  He still cares, still provides, still tries to get up early on weekends to let me sleep in.

  He is still here.

  Except he’s kind of not.

  Not like he used to be.

  My handsy, kissy, gropey, smiley Peter.

  That Peter is gone.

  That’s the Peter I mourn.

  Just like I mourn the sassy free-spirited Grace whose greatest fear was dating a boy.

  That girl is gone, too.

  Mentally.

  Physically.

  Emotionally.

  Sometimes it seems that two lifeless corpses are shuffling along in this household, imitating life.

  If only I had the strength and the sass to kick my relationship into gear.

  If only.

  I look for solace in my herb-garden.

  Ella

  Monday, March 4th

  OMG, instead of being a pariah, I’m....popular!!!

  It all started with me giving Betty a taste of her own medicine. When Betty tried to catcall ‘Cinders-cinders’ at me at the school entrance, I measured her from head to toe and said ‘Stupid is as stupid does’ loud enough so the whole square could hear. When she gawked, I smiled and said ‘Permit me to explain, this means you are what you do. If you do stupid, mean, demeaning things, then that’s exactly what you are.’

  I listened in on Betty’s thoughts. She was thinking, ‘Oh, look, her ladyship has found her voice...’

  I told her that yes, I was a lady and that calling me names is conduct unbecoming for a young lady of noble birth. I didn’t even have to spell it out. That she isn’t noble. All of her posse must have realised that they may be considered sub-par by association as they suddenly found the entrance steps rather fetching. Even John looked at Betty like he was seeing her for the very first time.

  I said, ‘I do you the kindness of making sure you enjoy your lovely meal while sitting next to desirable company at our restaurant while you repay me by trying to belittle me? If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re envious and mean-spirited.’

  Her posse all found things they had forgotten to do. But before everyone left for good, I finished off with, ‘I thought we were friends.’ We had been. Once. And while she wasn’t sorry about our friendship ending, she might be sorry if all of her friends abandoned her. So, I showed them that it was possible and said, ‘My parents have suggested I seek better friends elsewhere.’ Then I flipped the locks of my honey-caramel hair, a hue I know they are all envious of and walked inside with my back straight and my head held high, not casting another look at Betty, just like Mellie taught me. My brand new dress and shoes and my fantastic hair and make-up solidified the effect.

  Before the day was done, her posse was hovering about, trying to apologise to me for name-calling. They probably didn’t want to be seated near the toilets next time they or their family come to dine at our restaurant.

  * * *

  Mellie was delighted I had put Betty in her place and congratulated me that I was now in a better position to find a proper suitor. Godmother reminded me I should get to know the boys a bit better to find out who would be a good match.

  The real contenders are Simon, Matthew and, of course, John. I mean, Theodore is a bore and not even an aristo and Serge is way too difficult. Rumours are, he has a violent side.

  t’s not a difficult decision. Not really.

  I have always fancied John. He is smart and good-looking. And judging by his ability to stay with Betty for more than two years, he is probably also loyal and loving. I could even forgive him for not sticking up for me. After all, he was being loyal to Betty. Too bad he is taken.

  So, it looks like I’ll have to marry either Simon or Matthew. Sigh.

  Mellie asked me which of the boys I like has a title. I told her about John, but that he is taken. She said ‘She’s not a wife yet. She can budge over’ and I just gaped. For some strange reason, Godmother suggested that I ignore John and encourage only boys with titles and then ‘let’ John ‘win’ me. I have no clue what this will achieve. Mellie said something about reverse psychology and men wanting what other men want. I don’t understand.

  Thursday, March 7th

  OMG, John broke up with Betty! In public!

  Monday, March 18th

  I don’t know how or why, but Mellie’s trick worked!

  I did as Godmother suggested: I smiled at Simon and Matthew in an encouraging and warm way and ignored John. First, Simon and Matthew started offering to escort me from class to class. There was even a bit of rivalry. I must say, I felt rather flattered.

  Next thing I knew, Matthew greeted me on the school steps with a box of bonbons. When Simon saw that, he asked me out to OUR restaurant, almost shouting the invitation across the entire town square. That was a bit embarrassing, so I hurried inside, forgetting to thank Matthew for the candy.

  Where was John? Oh, hovering nearby. By himself.

  That was yesterday.

  Today, when I saw John with a huge bouquet of flowers I thought surely those were for Betty and that was his way of trying to patch things up. They had both been looking miserable for a week, skulking around corners. I really did think the flowers were for her.

  So, you can imagine my surprise when John walked over, pushed Simon away
with his shoulder and almost shoved the roses at me. ME! He mumbled something like ‘I think girls like this kind of thing. Public displays of affection.’ And then he just rushed off, looking uncomfortable.

  I was floored. John? Affection? Years - YEARS - have passed since our hands first brushed. I had even stopped hearing him, which means the emotional connection had been severed. He has been Betty’s boyfriend for as long as anyone can remember...except for the past week. He couldn’t be looking for anyone new, it would be too soon. Except…except maybe he has always liked me? And now he is making it publicly known he is interested in me.

  Wait…

  Was he miserable over the attention I was getting from the other boys? NOT over splitting up with Betty? Could Mellie have been right?

  I was so shocked I didn’t even thank him.

  But it’s ok, I’ll talk to him tomorrow and thank him for the roses. It’s the polite thing to do.

  Tuesday, March 19th

  Well…finally something good happened.I think John and I are friends now.

  When I found him and thanked him for the flowers, he looked mighty uncomfortable and didn’t say a word at first. I had hoped he would at least talk to me. Say something nice. Explain the roses. I felt like a fool, just standing there with neither of us saying anything. But when I turned to go, he called my name. And then the words just started pouring out of him. Haltingly, at first, he told me he was sorry. That he had noticed how Betty treated me but did not step in to defend me. That he knew she was jealous of me. How he thought it would pass, except it didn’t and how truth had finally dawned when I stepped up to her. He said he wants to be my friend, if onlyI would let him.

  I nodded and said I’d like to talk to him. Later. After school, he was outside, waiting for me, offering to escort me home. Simon and Matthew were nowhere to be seen. Of course, I let him walk me home, although I think by the end of our walk he was probably hoping he had worn more comfortable shoes. He didn’t say anything, but I noticed him limping a little. Poor thing. He’s so chivalrous. So sweet. So easy to talk to. He told me about his plans for after he finishes school - he’ll be learning to take over the family’s vineyard from his Father, although his Mother, Lady Evelyn DeVille, wants him to go study some more in a kingdom far far away and he has a hard time telling her he doesn’t want to go. He asked me about my plans, so I told him I didn’t have any. Not really. Maybe I’ll marry, maybe I’ll stay home and help Father with his newspaper, I don’t know. He comforted me and said there was still time to figure it all out. Gosh, he’s so easy to talk to. And he listens!

  I thought since I like him best out of the three boys, I want to get to know him better. So, I asked if he would tutor me. In geography. It’s not like I need it. To be honest, I could tutor him. Which, from his repetitive blinking I guessed he thought as well. The point of my asking was to get us to spend some time alone. Away from school. Away from everyone’s prying eyes. Away from Betty’s envious stares. Which I think he also figured out. Or so I gathered from his smile and from his taking my hand. I blushed. Severely so. He laughed and said I was cute.

  Before I turned into my lane and we parted ways, he complimented my dress and shoes and hair and said he had always noticed how beautiful I am. I didn’t know what to say. He looked so wistful and sounded almost...like he was…but no, he couldn’t be, he just broke up with Betty two weeks ago.

  Chapter 7. Tom the Pauper

  Grace

  ‘You’re feeding the paupers again, I see,’ Ella says, spying our monthly visitor helping himself to some soup in the corner. ‘Why are you feeding the poor? I thought we were low on money?’

  Yes, thanks to your excessive shopping.

  ‘What’s in it for you?’ she whispers.

  ‘To receive thou shalt first give,’ I remind her as she rolls her eyes. ‘Help yourself to some bread as well, Tom,’ I tell the man in the corner.

  ‘I don’t know which scripture you take this from, but it sounds wrong,’ Ella says and beckons for someone to enter, ‘John and I are going to be studying upstairs.’

  The long-haired, vaguely familiar aristo nods at me.

  ‘John who?’

  ‘John DeVille,’ he bows and I notice Ella beaming.

  An aristo.

  I doubt Ella would date anyone without a title, anyway, even to spite me.

  ‘Studying what?’ I ask and John stumbles in the doorway leading up to Ella’s quarters.

  ‘Geography. I’m still behind thanks to…’ Ella bites her tongue at the last moment.

  Precisely. I wouldn’t mention you ditched school to go shopping and that’s why you’re behind. I doubt an erudite young man would appreciate he is saving you from the result of your own frivolity. It would be worse if he knew why you were wallowing in self-pity. Although come to think of it, I’d like to wallow in self-pity a little bit like that as well if it gets me a trip to a spa and a new wardrobe.

  Ella huffs.

  ‘Why with John?’ I ask.

  ‘He offered,’ Ella says.

  John shrugs and off they go.

  ‘Studious girl you have,’ Tom says from the corner in between bites.

  ‘Yes,’ I say and bite my lip.

  At least geography isn’t anatomy.

  ‘What brings you by this time?’ I ask as he eyes my hallway mirror like he’s considering buying it. It does have a lovely silver frame, that is probably worth a pretty penny. Now, there’s a thought in case we should ever be truly low on money…

  I feed Tom once a month and often come home and find him waiting patiently in my kitchen corner. Although once I spotted him next to that very same hallway mirror with the silver frame he is now admiring. He looked rather startled then and claimed he had just come in, but I didn’t hear the bells chime or the kitchen door creak.

  ‘What makes you think I have a reason to come by?’ Tom asks.

  I wave a finger at him, ‘Don’t you pull that thing with me. I know you too well. You either needed to get away or time to think or there is a conversation twirling inside that head of yours that you don’t trust anyone with. There is always a reason and you know it,’ I say.

  Tom nods. ‘True. Things are…hectic at home. It’s only the beginning of summer and for some reason, it’s hectic. Maybe it’s Be… my wife’s third cousin’s kids darting around, being rambunctious. Being kids. Be…my wife always makes such a fuss about them. She has everyone running around in circles. But I do love when those kids invade our grounds. Everything comes alive. Thank you for dinner. You know, I like that you took my suggestion and opened a restaurant. Can I come and dine with my wife or would that be too weird for you?’ he asks and looks at me like a puppy, expecting only good things.

  ‘You can come and dine here any time, you know that. Without you, there wouldn’t be a restaurant, I wouldn’t have the linen or the drapes or the decent chairs and tables. So, you come and dine. Bring the wife. It’ll be on the house.’

  Tom inclines his head. ‘Thank you, that is very gracious of you. I would expect nothing else from, you.’ He lowers his mouth to my hand and I spy a golden ring on his pinky. ‘Grace.’

  ‘You better hide that, you know,’ I suggest, making goo-goo eyes at the ring, which he covers up with his sleeve.

  ‘You know, in dire straits in crowded places, sometimes it’s the only thing that can and has saved me, on occasion.’ Tom winks, bows and leaves.

  ‘You better hide that, you know.’

  Ella

  Saturday, March 30th

  Grace is hiding something, I’m sure of it!

  When I came home from the market Grace made me go to, I saw a hooded figure leaving our kitchen. A hooded MALE figure, judging by his spurs. It looked like Tom, the pauper whom Grace keeps feeding in our kitchen once a month. But it couldn’t have been. Paupers don’t have spurs.

&
nbsp; Did she just have a secret rendez-vous in our kitchen?!?

  Is that why she lets the pauper come by the kitchen? So she could disguise the visits from her lover as feeding the poor? All he has to do is wear a worn cloak and everybody would assume he was the pauper. Oh, the wicked wiles of that woman.

  Stepmother is away a lot… She says she goes to the market and then she comes back without having bought anything! Who goes to the market every other day anyway? I don’t really know what she does all day. Nobody does.

  Maybe Grace does have a lover?

  Still March 30th

  My life is over. OVER!

  And I can’t tell anyone.

  It turns out John wasn’t in love with me. Far from it.

  At school, he left a distinctly different impression. He was following me everywhere, walking me to classrooms, escorting me home, there at every lunch break and making sure we met up in between classes. Lots of boys were hovering about, but he was the most persistent. He knew I didn’t need tutoring. He knew it was an excuse. Except I was mistaken about what he thought it was an excuse for.

  I thought I’d get to know him better. He…he was after something else entirely.

  Neveryoumind that Grace humiliated John when he came in through the kitchen, asking him about his pedigree and why he was there. I don’t think thats why he did what he did. After…well, everything…it only dawned on me later that perhaps Grace was right to question John’s intentions.

  As soon as we were in my room, he closed the door and smiled at me. I thought, surely, all tutors encourage their students like this. It wasn’t until he kissed my hand that I realised it wasn’t geography he had on his mind at all. Pretty soon it was my cheek and then my other cheek, closer to my mouth, and since it felt nice and I was curious, I let him kiss me on the mouth.

  Once.

  It felt strangely wet and not how I imagined my first romantic kiss would be like. It didn’t help that the prince was looking down at us from my wall. John seemed to mind my drawings, because before I could stop him, he had torn all of them down and ripped them up, one by one! When I tried to protest he said, ‘It’s not decent for another man to spy on what me and my fiancée are doing.’