Winter

by Raven Taylor

  Then at last I was blessed, my efforts where rewarded, and I did not even have to stalk her from her house. I had given up my post on the Royal Mile for the day and had drifted into a quaint little pub called ‘The Last Drop’ that sat under the watchful eye of the castle on the site near where the old gallows used to stand. I was drinking a glass of wine and generally moping when she walked in. The instant I saw her my sullen mood rose and I was suddenly hot and nervous, no, not nervous, terrified.

  She was alone and I watched from my booth as she approached the bar. She was wearing the fur coat again and black heels with red bows. I saw her talk to the barman before she took off the fur, elegantly sliding it down over her small shoulders and laying it over her bent right arm. The barman sat down a glass of wine and she handed over her money. Having completed this transaction she picked up her glass and strode with the gait of a prize winning thoroughbred across the wooden floor to take a seat in the booth across from where I sat. I saw her glance at her wrist watch as she sat down. Perhaps she was waiting for someone. Again I thought maybe a gentleman friend. This was more than likely the case.

  I wanted so much to speak to her. It was what I had been waiting for the last few days but it was harder than I had imagined. I tried to imagine what Caroline had said, that I was so beautiful that no one could say no to me. I sat and let the time pass, it was difficult not to stare at her, I had to keep trying to find things to distract my attention. She kept glancing at her watch, she was nearly finished her drink and I mine and still whoever she waited for had not shown up. I decided to take my chance.

  I stood up and approached her table.

  “Hello,” I said and she looked up at me.

  She did not answer at first. Her green eyes locked with mine briefly then she looked me up and down as if trying to decide what to make of me.

  “You where at the club the other night.” she said.

  “Yes,” I replied, “I enjoyed the show, very creative.”

  She tilted her head and looked at her watch again, “Well, sayings as I seem to have been stood up I suggest maybe you could buy me another drink? Same again?”

  I went back to the bar and this time ordered two white wines. When I returned to the table she had a lit up a cigarette, she was smoking it through a long cigarette holder like a sophisticated millionaire.

  “That can kill you.” I said as I set the drinks down.

  “Well, quite frankly, that doesn’t really concern me an awful lot.”

  I sat down and she pulled her glass towards her.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” she asked.

  “Winter.” I said.

  “I don’t need to tell you mine I suppose,” she commented, “It seems you already know it.”

  “Yes, someone at the club told me but I didn’t have the courage to really say much more than hello.”

  “I see and do you often end up back stage checking out the dancers?” she questioned and took a drink, leaving red lipstick marks on her glass.

  “Well I usually don’t make a habit of fainting and having to be carried back stage If that‘s what you mean.”

  “I’m not a stripper you know,” I had never implied that she was, “Lots of people assume that’s what I am but those people are ill informed. I’m a burlesque artist. The two are very different, what I do is more akin to a theatrical performance. I’m classically trained in ballet you know?”

  “Anyone who saw you dance could see that. And no, I don’t think you’re a stripper, I do know the difference between burlesque and seedy strip clubs.”

  “Just as well you do.” she stubbed out her cigarette.

  “Who where you waiting for?”

  “A guy I’ve been dating,” she said, “Let’s just say that he blew his final chance in not showing today.”

  It amazed me that anyone could find anything to do that was more enjoyable than being in the presence of this divine creature.

  Elbows on table she rested her chin on her clasped hands and leaned forward slightly. She was studying me, that much was clear from the way her head tilted from one side to the other. I sat patiently and endured her scrutiny. Her green eyes were wide, curious.

  “You are unusual,” she concluded, “Such perfect skin, not a visible pore in sight, like ivory. Do you model?”

  I shook my head having no idea if this where true or not.

  “Well you should,” she informed me, “You have the face for it. I model and the agency can never find enough boys pretty enough. You certainly have a very unique look, sort of over romanticised, like the way the modern day likes to portray it‘s vampires. Vampires are very in right now.”

  “I’m not a vampire.” I laughed.

  “No, but you could be, to all those teenage girls who think they want to be like Lestat or marry Edward Cullen.” she rolled her eyes in disapproval.

  I didn’t have the faintest idea who these people where but I nodded anyway.

  “Well, saying’s we’re in each others company and making small talk, where do you come from? Your accent isn’t local and I can’t quite place it.”

  It would have been an easy question for most people to answer but not, of course, for me. I could have lied but lies would have complicated things and I did not want anything I might have with Lilly ever to be complicated.

  “This is not going to make a lot of sense to you,” I said slowly, “But, I don’t know.”

  “Oh come on, how can you not know?” she chuckled to herself, “Come on, tell me.”

  “I’m not joking,” I assured her, “I really don’t know where I come from.”

  She laughed again and I laughed too.

  “Ok, I’ll play along,” she said in good nature, “So how come you don’t know where you come from? Are you really a vampire and your just so old you can’t remember?”

  “Not quite,” it was surprisingly easy speaking to her now that I had started, “In truth, I don’t know a lot about myself. My memory extends no further back than Christmas Eve. I was found lost in the woods by a local woman and I can’t remember anything about how I got there or who I am.”

  “Oh my God,” she leaned in even closer and her green eyes held mine with a gaze so intense it made my insides ache, “You’re him aren’t you? You’re the Christmas Angel.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s just a term some magazine came up with in an article about you. It said you wandered out of the woods, as if you had appeared from nowhere, on Christmas Eve like you where one of God’s Angels.”

  Something leapt inside of me. My stomach inexplicably jerked in a nauseating way.

  “Well,” I laughed nervously, “It’s better than being an alien I suppose, or a vampire.”

  “They’re looking for you you know, the papers said you went missing from a care home.”

  I would have thought now she would have been afraid and I was concerned that she might simply get up and leave.

  “I didn’t like the way they were treating me,” I said, “Like I was some kind of freak, I came to Edinburgh because I had dreamed about it, I know this place far too well, I’ve spent a lot of time here and I thought coming back might help me remember.”

  “And has it?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Wow,” she sat back again, “I think this might require another a drink.”

  It seemed my revelation had not put her off at all, quite the opposite, it seemed the mystery and the intrigue had drawn her in, she was hooked, fascinated, she could not take her eyes off me nor could I stop gazing at her. Time passed and before we knew it it was 10pm and we had each drank three glasses of wine.

  “I wish I could stay longer Winter but I need to go,” she told me.

  She stood and shrugged on her fur.

  “Can I walk you home?” I ventured.

  “I can’t see the harm in that,” she smiled.

  Outside it was dark and bitterly cold. In the cobbled street she paused and held out her a
rm.

  “Well if you’re going to walk me home, be a gentleman and take my arm.”

  “Well certainly my Lady,” I obliged and we laughed together as we fell into step.

  By the time we reached the Royal Mile it had started to snow, the big soft flakes drifted down on us and clung to her hair and her fur coat.

  “Snow is so beautiful,” she said, “You are like snow, I can see why someone named you Winter.”

  “Winter is cold, harsh, merciless.” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I said that, it just slipped out, popped into my head, maybe it means something, maybe it doesn’t.”

  We had reached the little court yard where her flat was now and she stopped.

  “Well, this is it, I’m home safe. Thank you.”

  “Will I see you again?” I asked hopefully.

  She seemed to consider this for a few moments, “Give me your telephone number, maybe I’ll call you sometime.”

  A telephone number. Caroline’s number should still be in my notebook from where I had scrawled it for use in case of emergencies. I took the book from my jacket pocket and tore out the page with the number.

  “That’s the number of the friend I told you I was staying with.”

  She folded the sheet four times and then tucked it in her red hand bag.

  “Ok then Winter, it was nice to meet you.”

  With that she spun around and strode off into the little court yard without further indication of whether or not she would ever be in touch.

  “Bye Lilly.” I called after her as I watched her leave.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As it turned out, I didn’t have long to wait for her to call. The phone in the flat flat rang at 12pm the next day and it was Lilly.

  “Listen,” she said, “I know we only just met last night but I’ve been thinking a lot about you since, I don’t know why, I just feel like I want to help you, you looked so tragic and that’s something I can relate to. As we are both in drastic need of cheering up I thought there was no point in wasting time. Do you want to go out tonight?”

  “I…” I couldn’t seem to form the words I wanted to say.

  “Well, if you don’t want to you know…”

  “No,” I said quickly, “Nothing would please me more. Where?”

  “There is a place I’ve always wanted to go,” she said uncertainly, “It’s on the Royal Mile, near the castle, it’s called The Witchery.”

  “Yes, I know the place.” and I did, I didn’t know how, but I knew it, I could even picture it in my head.

  “Shall we say 7.30? I’ll make a booking, it’s very popular.”

  I was so exited as I got ready that evening. You laughed at me as I fussed over my hair and asked you constantly if I looked ok.

  “You’re like a school boy going on his first date,” you teased.

  “I feel sick Caroline,” I moaned, “I won’t be able to eat a thing.”

  “You’re just nervous,” you assured me “But don’t be, you look very handsome.”

  “Thank you Caroline,” I took your hands and squeezed them, “For everything you’ve done for me, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Oh come on, you’re going to be late!”

  I glanced at the silver carriage clock on the mantel.

  “Oh, you’re right, I am, I had better get myself moving, are you sure I look ok?”

  “For the twentieth time yes!”

  “Ok, good,” I kissed you on the cheek, “I’ll see you later.”

  “Have a nice time honey.”

  I could hardly contain myself as I strode up the mile. I kept trying to put down the grin that stretched my face for fear of looking like a lunatic but it kept springing right back up of it’s own accord. Tonight was doubly important for me, not only was I getting to spend an evening with Lilly but I felt instinctively that I would learn something from the Witchery given the familiar feel it seemed to have.

  She was waiting outside when I arrived and my heart flipped. She was in a long black dress that reached her ankles and her flame red hair fell about her shoulders in seductive waves. I glanced up at the sign above her head ‘the Witchery’ it said and a shiver shook my spine as I looked at it.

  “Good evening Lilly.” I said as I approached.

  “Good evening Winter,” she smiled my way and took my arm, “Come on, it’s this way.”

  She led me down a narrow close and into a small door on the right. The building was ancient and inside it was atmospheric and softly lit with candles. A waiter greeted us and Lilly told him we had a reservation.

  “I’ve been here before.” I whispered as the waiter showed us to our table.

  The ceilings were low and the stones walls were draped in rich red velvet. The furnishings were luxurious dark wood, the place seemed to scream richness.

  “You recognise this?” she asked once we were seated, menus in hand.

  “Yes, I’ve definitely been here. Are there rooms? I think I might have stayed here.” the image of the four poster bed sprang to mind.

  “Yes,” she confirmed, “There are rooms but if you’ve stayed here you must be made of money, it’s expensive enough for dinner but to stay…”

  I glanced over the menu. The atmosphere in here was almost claustrophobic. It was pressing in around me, embracing me. There was such energy in the air, the place was alive with something that I couldn’t quite name. I tried to tell myself it was just the history, it being such an old building, but it was more than that. There was something different about this place as though when stepping in it we had stepped out of Edinburgh and were now somewhere else. Stupid really. Above our head small windows in the walls looked out at street level and I could see shoes of people passing by on the Royal Mile.

  “This place is really pricy,” Lilly said, looking at the list, “But don’t worry, it’s on me, I don’t have much need to worry to much about money now.”

  She didn’t elaborate on that last statement and I didn’t ask. Why would I have any reason to think it was something more than she had got a new job with good wages or some long lost relative had died and left her an inheritance?

  “You ok? You look a bit weird.”

  “You don’t feel anything strange about the atmosphere in here?”

  “Nope,” she shook her head, “Maybe it’s your psychic tendencies or ESP or whatever you called it. Perhaps you pick up on things others don’t.”

  “Maybe.”

  I was aware that someone was watching me now from the other side of the room. I felt the eyes on me first and when I turned I saw a young waiter looking right at me. He had blonde hair and fair skin, clear, open eyes full of innocence.

  “I think I know him.” I said to Lilly.

  “Well he has been staring at you since we sat down. I just thought maybe he fancied you, perhaps he knows you too.” she shrugged her shoulders and folded the menu, “I’m done.”

  Our waiter returned and we ordered wine and food. The young waiter with the blonde hair had gone now. His appearance had left me feeling distracted as I tried to remember why I knew him and why I knew this place.

  “Ok,” said Lilly as we waited for our food to arrive, “This is a first date and we should act like it’s a first date. Tell me about yourself.”

  I looked at her with exasperation. She was smiling widely.

  “You know I can’t.” I said.

  “I know that, that’s why it can be fun for you,” she was looking at her wine glass and fingering the stem with her long fingers, “You have a blank slate for now. For the moment you can be anyone you want. Just make it up, use your imagination, invent a past for yourself, it can be as extravagant as you like.”

  “Ok,” I gave her a smile, “Right, I can do that.”

  The waiter returned with starters and that gave me a little time to think. I took a sip of wine.

  “I was born in London, but my family where circu
s people, travellers, so I never really had a fixed home.”

  “Wow, that’s fascinating,” she said, “What did you do? I bet you were a clown or something right?”

  “A clown?” I pretended to be offended, “certainly not! We saved the job of clown for the ugly people in the family, that way we could cover up their faces and we had an excuse to laugh at them.”

  She giggled. Despite the façade she created with her dress and make up of a sophisticated woman I was seeing glances of the little girl she had once been.

  “That’s so mean, so what did you do?”

  “Well,” this was fun, she had taken into account that given the circumstances we would have very little to talk about and turned what could have been an awkward, dull night, into something entertaining. She was so resourceful and I lover her for it, “I rode horses.”