A figure shadowed the glass panel and Ryan wondered if it was going to be her crazy mother again. He needn’t have worried though, as a few moments later the door creaked open and Alia’s face appeared. When she saw Ryan, she gave a genuine smile, but then quickly hid it away.
“Hi,” she said quietly, her expression unreadable.
“Hey. Everything okay?”
As he stepped closer, she noticed the cuts and swelling to his face. “Oh my god, what happened?”
“It’s a long story. If you’ve got time?”
She opened the door wider and surveyed the street like a wild animal. Without a word she retreated to the hallway and Ryan followed her in. It was desperately cold in the house, almost as bad as the street outside. Alia was wearing her coat fully buttoned.
“So what happened?”
“I got thrown off a train by the gunnermen.”
“What? While it was moving?”
Ryan nodded.
“What for?”
“Nothing.” He saw the doubt on her face and knew that he probably deserved that. “Honestly, they thought I was sleeping rough and wouldn’t let me ride the train. They were going to throw an old woman off the carriage too and when I stopped them, they did this to me.”
She inspected the lump on his head, moving close to see him in the darkness. Gently, she turned his face to the window and ran her fingers over his cheek. Ryan’s breath quickened as he caught her scent. He wanted to press his face to hers, but instead held still and thrilled at their closeness. Alia looked at him with the echo of his feelings on her face. Her lips were parted and her breath had drawn deeper than before.
“You came round the other day.”
The change was so abrupt that Ryan needed a moment for his brain to catch up.
“The school uniform?” she prompted.
It was only three days ago but felt more like three years.
“Was it any good?” he asked.
Alia unfastened her coat to reveal a Straybeck Central jumper. “I’ve been wearing it all day. It smells like you,” she said drawing the collar up over her nose and breathing deeply. She gave a momentary shy smile and then her melancholy expression returned. “When you were here…did you knock? Did you talk to anyone?”
Ryan thought back to the strange, almost wild figure who had answered the door that day. “I spoke to your mum, but she…” Ryan wasn’t sure how to explain it. “It just seemed better to leave the clothes on the doorstep.”
Alia’s eyes glistened with tears. “She’s not well Ryan. Things don’t always make sense to her anymore.” She wiped a thumb across her eyes. “You should probably just go.”
“Go? Why?”
“Oh come on,” she said, an edge of anger in her voice. “Why would you want to be with someone like me? Living in this filthy house with no money, no food and my crazy mother?”
“I don’t care about any of that. It’s you I’ve come to see. Not your house or your mother.” He took out the fistful of coins from his pocket and held it out to her.
“That’s all I’ve got in the world right now. And these clothes. And these bruises. We’re not that different you know.”
Alia stared at him, searching for the lie. “Do you really mean that?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “I thought you would be the one running a mile. Especially when you saw this great, daft lump on my head.”A smile flickered at the edge of her mouth and then she stared at his outstretched hand containing the meagre supply of coins.
“That’s really everything you’ve got?”
“Technically, even this isn’t mine. But yes.”
Alia rummaged in her coat pocket and brought out two iron coins. She tipped them into Ryan’s hand, a mischievous look on her face.
“Let’s spend it.”
Chapter 35
Half an hour later they were through the checkpoints and standing outside the notorious Braziers bar. Ryan knew it by reputation alone but Alia hadn’t even heard of it until tonight.
“It can get quite rough in here you know,” Ryan said as the bar came into view.
“Sounds like fun.”
The Braziers was at the heart of the loading yards where the River Stray circled the edge of the city. There was a single-track railway here too so that goods and freight could be loaded on and off the flat-bottomed steamers that sailed the river connecting Straybeck to Karasard. It was also a slow but important link between the foundries at Insel and traders at Sail Bay and Cape Heritage.
The Braziers was a beacon of light in that bleak industrial landscape. Metal sconces jutted from the walls of the pub and the gas-lit flames flickered yellow and blue. As Ryan and Alia approached, three men ambled up from the waterside. Despite the cold, they wore no jackets and had their shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. They pushed open the thick wooden door and Ryan caught a glimpse of crowded bar within. “Sure?” he said.
Alia shrugged. “This is who I am now, right? I need to get used to it.”
She looped her arm through Ryan’s and together they crossed the cobbled road and entered the bar. It was hot inside and busy. At one end of the room were dozens of tables where people were sitting at simple wooden benches eating bowls of a thick stew. It smelled delicious and Ryan’s stomach growled. He gambled that if they bought a bowl of food each they might still be able to afford some drinks too.
“Stew?” he said.
“Definitely.”
They found some empty seats at a table where a small group of mill girls were already eating. They were wearing the typical blue smocks and some still had the blue head scarves fastened over their long plaits. Instantly Ryan was reminded of Emma, the informant girl from the train. With sideways glances he searched each of their faces and was relieved to find that it wasn’t her.
“Do you think they’ll come to us or do we have to go to the bar?” Alia said quietly.
Before he could answer, a young boy hurried past and deposited two bowls of the stew in front of them. They stared at it for a moment and then at each other. One of the mill girls broke away from her group, a bony-faced girl with pale skin.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you look a bit lost.”
“No, not lost,” Alia said. “We just didn’t order any food yet.”
“Ordered? You’ve not been here before have you?”
Alia caught Ryan’s eye for guidance, but finding none, just shook her head.
“Don’t look so worried, we’re a friendly lot,” the girl continued and then leaned over to the rest of her group. “Hey, it’s their first time here.”
“What?” One girl said, cocking her head to the side. She had a large mouth and a mess of curly blonde hair.
“It’s their first time here,” the bony-faced girl repeated, much to Ryan’s annoyance.
The blonde looked shocked. “You’ve never been to the Braziers?”
They shook their heads.
“Never? What do you do every night?”
Ryan had never really considered it before and suddenly realised that he never spent any time with people his own age.
“I’m Gordi,” the blonde said. She wiped her hands on the front of her smock before reaching across to shake with Ryan and Alia.
“Lexi,” the bony-faced girl added.
“I’m Alia, this is Ryan.”
The three other girls gave them a smile but then resumed their own conversation.
“So what brings you to our wonderful pub tonight?” Gordi said while she and Lexi shuffled down the bench.
“I don’t live far away,” Alia said. “And we really needed a drink.”
“That sounds like me every night,” Gordi laughed. “Do you work at the railyard?”
Ryan shook his head and Brynne’s cover story came automatically into his head. “I was at Tillersons, but they got rid of a load of us. I’m looking for work at the moment.”
Lexi gave her friend a knowing look.
“What’s up?” Ryan said
quickly.
“Gordi’s brother runs a crew on the railyard. One of his guys left yesterday. He’ll be wanting to hire someone now. We could put a good word in if you like.”
“Err, thank you,” Ryan said. He felt strangely touched by this unasked for kindness and momentarily forgot that he wasn’t actually looking for work.
“Don’t thank me yet. My brother’s a complete bastard. But money’s money, right?”
“How about you,” Lexi said to Alia. “I’ve not seen you at Graysons.” That was the main mill in Straybeck. Alia tried to swallow down a mouthful of stew and potatoes before answering.
“I’m still at school.”
Lexi stopped untying her blue headscarf to look at Alia in disbelief. “School? How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Gordi was impressed. “School at sixteen? Well you must be some kind of genius.”
“Hardly.”
“I was sent to the factories straight from primary. Poor old Lexi never even made it that far.”
“You cheeky cow,” the skinny girl aimed a kick at Gordi beneath the table.
Ryan knew that all the children of factory workers left school at eleven. Most of them even sooner. A child would have to be especially gifted for the school governors to sponsor them beyond that. He suddenly grasped how unfair it was that he should have had five more years of teaching simply because his father was top corridor in the factories and his mother was a nurse. Thankfully no one asked him how long he’d been out of school for, so he didn’t have to lie.
The young serving boy returned to the table and swept any morsels of food into his hand. Gordi and Lexi’s empty bowls of stew were snatched away and he looked pointedly at Ryan’s bowl that had barely been touched.
“Don’t you want it?” he said curtly.
“Yes. I was just talking.”
“Over there’s for talking,” the young lad said. “Here’s for eating.”
Gordi and Lexi gathered their jackets with a smile. “Better get it eaten, or he’ll bump you. Don’t like time wasters do you Siam.”
“I’ve got a business to run,” Siam puffed, full of his own importance.
“Bumped?”
“Moved to the main bar so someone else can sit down,” Lexi said.
Faced with the threat of losing his food, Ryan set upon it with an enthusiasm that wasn’t forced.
“Come find us when you’re done,” Gordi said. “We’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Then they were left alone on the table and as they ate in silence, Ryan tuned into the atmosphere around them. He really liked it here. The noise and vitality were refreshing and unlike everywhere else in Straybeck, there wasn’t even a trace of the suspicion and fear that usually clouded ordinary conversations.
He was about to say something to Alia but saw that the confident and flirtatious girl from twenty minutes ago had been replaced by the sullen and fragile thing that had met him at the door.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t belong here,” she said quietly. “You heard what they said. They think I’m some scholarship kid. What do I have in common with anyone here?”
Ryan checked that they weren’t over heard before he responded. “You’ve about as much in common with them as I do,” he hissed. “So what if we stayed at school a few extra years? Doesn’t mean we can’t all get along. They’re just people.”
He finished the last of his stew, angry that she was bringing the mood down again. Alia took a small tablet from her pocket and slipped it into her mouth.
“My head’s been pounding all day,” she said quickly and then they sat in silence while Ryan scraped his spoon around the edge of his bowl.
“I’m sorry Ryan. I don’t mean to be like this.”
“It’s okay.”
“Do you want to know something amazing I’ve just figured out?”
“Go on?”
She leaned forwards with a shadow of her earlier humour. “I think the stew is free.”
“No.”
“Yes. Take a look. No one’s actually ordering and no one’s paying.”
Ryan searched their end of the room and realised it was true.
“Why would they do that?”
“No idea. Maybe little Siam’s not as good at business as he thinks he is.”
“Well whatever the reason, I think I’ve found my new favourite bar.” Ryan was pleased that Alia was mellowing again. “Come on. Let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight.”
They went through to the main bar and Ryan ordered drinks while Alia found a patch of wall to lean against. He returned with two beers, a handful of coins still in his hand and a massive grin on his face.
“I really, really like it here.”
Alia smiled, although her change in mood was less to do with cheap beer and free food and more a result of the numbness that was creeping steadily through her body. The pill she’d taken at the table was already working hard to smooth the wrinkles from her mind. She sipped at the chilled beer contentedly then ran her fingers over the swelling at Ryan’s temple.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Not so much. Does it look bad?”
She shrugged and then prodded it with her finger, laughing as Ryan flinched.
“Just checking.”
Their conversation flowed easily and by the third drink he still had a weight of coin in his pocket and they had found a corner of the room to call their own. Raised up on a set of railway sleepers at the other end of the room was a large stage where the band were setting up. They were a three-piece outfit, two men and a girl all in their twenties and all looking as though they’d stepped straight off the factory floor and simply found the instruments on stage.
The drummer tried a few snatches of rhythm, stopping every few bars to shuffle the floor toms into place or change the angle of his snare. The man on guitar was hunched over as though he could charm the music from the strings. He caressed each one with thick, unbending fingers listening to a sound only he could hear. Then, without warning, a series of rich bright chords sang from the strings.
Alia broke off their conversation to face the sound, nestling against Ryan as she turned. He placed one tentative hand on her waist, his palm resting on the curve of her hip. Alia’s breath caught and with the bravery of drink and pills, she took hold of his fingers and pulled his arm all the way around her.
A tingle ran down the length of her back as his thumb rubbed gently upon her stomach. Without thinking she eased into him, both shocked and thrilled to feel him growing stiff against her. Little pulses of pleasure trembled in her legs and they stood in silence, neither one willing to break contact.
The girl on stage flicked open the latches of her tatty brown case and drew out a violin. There was no preamble, no testing of the strings, she simply raised the instrument, hooked it beneath her chin and set about a lively reel. The pub erupted with a roar of approval. Alia’s heart lifted with the music and she half-turned towards Ryan. Their faces were inches apart and she could feel the heat from his body.
He dipped his face and their lips brushed together. Alia broke the touch for a moment to twist fully into his embrace. She had her hands pressed flat against his chest and they kissed again, more fiercely this time. Her tongue teased against his and she felt Ryan’s strong arms holding her tightly
“Someone’s having a good night,” Gordi’s face appeared beside them.
Alia and Ryan separated and despite the beer, her face flushed bright red with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The music was loud and lively and Ryan scanned the room, finding every face sharing their exhilaration.
“What do you think of the place?” Lexi said as she skipped up beside them. She was drinking form a pint glass that looked huge held in her tiny hand.
“It’s great,” Alia said, having to shout above the fiddler. “The music…everything.”
“That’s Amaline. She’s from our mill.”
“Absolutely hopeless on
the looms,” Gordi added, “but bugger me, she can play fiddle.”
“She’s amazing,” Alia said.
“We’ve got a table over there. Why don’t you come join us? My brother will be in later and you can ask him about the job.”
Alia and Ryan crossed the bar and found a seat with the mill girls who had been at their table when they were eating. A group of four men had joined them who were not much older than Ryan. Everyone shuffled round the table to make room and Alia found herself wedged between Ryan on one side and Lexi on the other. The skinny girl was speaking much louder than when they had first met and moving her hands quickly as she introduced each of the group. It made Alia feel less self-conscious to know that she wasn’t the only one getting drunk. She was slightly worried that the pill had given her a strange reaction though. Ever since she’d swallowed it, a giddy feeling had taken hold of her. As though she were standing at the edge of a precipice, only inches from falling. Lexi was still jabbering away so Alia took a deep breath and smiled as though she were paying attention.
“So what do you think of the place?” It must have been the third time she’d asked the question.
“It’s great. Everyone’s been really nice.”
From across the table, a great lump of a youth leaned towards them.
“It’s amazing how friendly we are when you’ve a nice smile and pair of tits.”
“Marlo!” Lexi shrieked indignantly.
“What? I was talking about me.” Marlo cupped his own ample breasts, wobbling them up and down while Lexi coughed a mouthful of beer back into her glass.
“This is Marlo. He’s a pig,” Lexi said, leaning across the table to slap him about the head. He ducked and continued laughing.
“We try to ignore him, but he keeps coming back.”
“Don’t be like that. You know you love me really.”
It turned out that Marlo, like most of the men in the Braziers, worked on the freight yards loading and unloading an unending supply of goods that passed between Straybeck and Karasard. Alia suspected that he wanted Lexi to be more than just a friend, but judging by the wearisome look she showed him it was a very one-sided dream.
Straybeck Rising: Calloway Blood: Book one (Calloway Blood 1) Page 21
