The Rarest Rose

by I Beacham

  She glanced at Beth again and was assuaged by conflicting emotions. She’d loved being around Kiernan today. She’d responded to her company as if they’d been lifelong friends; the lighthearted joking and gentle bantering. But something kept seeping into her thoughts, something that suggested she might want more than friendship—if that were possible. She didn’t really know if Kiernan was into women or not, and her behavior over the broken photo suggested she wasn’t. But regardless, Ele felt the tinge of guilt. She shouldn’t even be thinking these thoughts. Wasn’t Beth her one and only love? She was dishonoring what they’d had. Maybe the broken photo was a sign. And yet was it so wrong to have enjoyed Kiernan’s company so much?

  Featherstone stood and stretched, pushing his furry stomach low and down into the rug. When he arose, he meowed at Ele. It was the meow he used when he wanted to go outside. Ele wondered if she’d made the right decision to not put in a cat flap. At the time, her choice had seemed so simple. Keep things as they were or allow Feathers instant access in and out, plus the unwanted remains of half eaten mice on her carpets in the morning. Ele girded herself and bravely went to the front door. It surprised her to find it was already open, and she watched Featherstone run out. She frowned. Had she left the door off the latch? It was a careless thing to do, for anyone could have walked in. She admonished herself and pushed the door shut. Feathers would meow on the windowsill when he wanted to come in.

  She returned to the sitting room and made the conscious decision to sleep there for the night. It was warm, and she didn’t want to leave its sanctuary. She pulled an armchair up closer to the fire and settled into it, but just minutes later, the sitting room door creaked open and she felt a cold chill sweep around her. She stood to investigate the source of the cold. Her front door was wide open again, valuable heat seeping out. She slammed it shut this time, convincing herself that the lock might need repair. Nerves wouldn’t quite let her trust her reasoning. As the door closed, she heard its familiar click.

  Back in the sitting room, she warmed herself by the fire and grew calmer. Less than five minutes later, she heard Feathers howling on the sill. She tutted. When he was in, he wanted to be out. When he was out, he wanted to be in. One thing was sure, she would never put weight on while she owned him. She was always at his beck and call and up and down like a bungee jumper.

  As she moved toward the sitting room door, Feathers walked in, and she saw the front door wide open. Cold fear and adrenaline rushed through her as she forced herself not to panic. She closed it again. This time she bolted it and put the strong night chain across. She had shut the door properly the last time. Now she was scared.

  Chapter Nine

  It was no good, Kiernan thought, as she ran down the stairs of her flat and out into the frosty night toward her car. How could she have left Ele alone in that house after what had happened at lunchtime? She had behaved like a rat, scampering out as fast as possible, and why?

  She hated to admit it, but it hadn’t been the ghost that had made her bolt. Well, not entirely. It had been the photograph, the one of Ele and the woman at her side. The picture had been so sensual, so intimate. How could she not have seen that the two were lovers?

  Holding that broken frame, she had looked into Ele’s eyes and caught the loss and sorrow behind them. Kiernan had seen that look before. Her mother had worn it when her father died. She had seen it in her own eyes as each of her parents passed. That awful unique look revealed you had lost someone irreplaceable; someone so loved.

  The answers to many of her questions hit her like a boxer’s southpaw, and Kiernan now understood who the we had been and why there was no longer a we. The woman had died. That look of intense love and adoration in the photo hadn’t been one that had dwindled and turned barren over time. Now she understood why Ele lived alone.

  When the photo frame fell and broke, Ele had looked so devastated, and Kiernan had wanted to throw her arms around her, hold her tight, and tell her it was only a frame that could be replaced. But she hadn’t. Instead, she had selfishly left the house as soon as she could. The revelation of the photo had shocked Kiernan. That, together with the mixture of fear from what had happened earlier, she knew her emotions were out of control. Kiernan hadn’t trusted herself to stay. She had wanted to kiss Ele, but that might have ruined anything they had now. Kiernan had no idea when or how Ele’s lover had died, all she knew was the pain of loss that she was still suffering. It was a loss that might not welcome a romantic introduction. Leaving had seemed the better option, though now it didn’t.

  When she left Ele, they had parted on good terms, but not the right terms. Kiernan had seen the confusion in her face―something she had put there. It was another memory Kiernan was unable to shake all night. She thought of Ele, alone in her house, and knew she couldn’t leave her there by herself, not after what had happened. Kiernan was still scared witless. What must Ele be feeling?

  It was almost ten at night as she jumped into her MG BGT, a sports car old enough to be a veteran. She turned the key. Nothing. The engine didn’t even turn over.

  “Not now,” she rasped as she laid her head on the steering wheel. Her relationship with this car was never going to be easy. They shared a love/hate affair. She turned the ignition again, praying that this time it would start, but still nothing.

  She hopped out, lifted the hood, and began pressing leads down on the engine casing, hoping it was just a loose connection. “You worthless piece of―” She stopped herself mid flow. It was no good insulting the vehicle. That behavior never worked in her favor, and she did love this car. She closed the hood and casually, slowly, moved back into the vehicle. Once inside, she closed the door and began to speak in a quiet, intimate tone.

  “I’m sorry. I know I ask too much of you sometimes and that it might seem I take you for granted, but I do care.” She leaned in tight against the steering wheel. “What if I promise to clean and polish you at the weekend? Put some black on your tires? I’ll also book you in for a full service and an oil change.” She ran her fingers seductively across the dashboard. “You know how much you like that.”

  Kiernan eased back in the seat, took a breath. “I need you.”

  She turned the key. The car erupted with life.

  It took under thirty-five minutes to get to Ele’s. The roads were empty at this time of night, and thankfully, the recent pea-soup fog of the last few weeks hadn’t reappeared. The night was crisp and clear.

  As she drove up the unlit driveway, Kiernan could see Ele’s sitting room lights still on behind drawn curtains. She wondered momentarily if anything else frightening had happened since she left. During the short drive over, the closer to Ele’s she drew, the more her own state of alarm rose. She was scared. It didn’t help that as she slowed to park, she realized she was at almost the exact spot where Feathers had acted up that afternoon.

  Swinging the car around, its lights swept across the front of the greenhouse set back in the garden to the far left. Light reflected back off the panes of glass in normal fashion, but Kiernan saw something else that made her slam the brakes on and freeze the blood in her veins.

  From inside the greenhouse, she saw the shadowed shape of a man watching her, his eyes reflected back. She wasn’t imagining it. She saw his strong, clear shape before the car lights moved off the building. This was bad. The ghost was now manifesting itself in physical form, beyond photographs. This alteration was sinister and unwelcome. Her fear extended to Ele’s safety.

  Desperately trying to draw in breath, she slammed her hand on the car horn and let its intrusive sound slice into the quiet of the night. Then she dashed from the vehicle and ran as fast as she could toward the front door that, thank heavens, was opening. She could see Ele’s perplexed face.

  Kiernan threw herself past her and slammed the door shut. She tried to speak but couldn’t. All she could hear was her breath wheezing away like bellows in a foundry as she reached out and clung to Ele.

  An asthma sufferer, K
iernan’s breathing was always worse in the winter when the damp air arrived, and it took only some minor exertion to bring it on. People said it gave her a sexy, husky voice. Right now, she had neither of those attributes. Her chest hurt as she struggled to suck in air, and her heart beat furiously. She knew there was a pained expression on her face because she saw the escalating fear registering on Ele as she drew back to try to talk.

  “Oh God.” Her words spluttered. “Something’s out there…the greenhouse…” Kiernan let go of Ele and forced herself to straighten and breathe. Her hands were on her chest.

  “What is it? What’s out there?” Ele’s voice trembled as she reached out to hold Kiernan’s shaking hands. Kiernan’s panic was contagious. Ele was petrified.

  “I saw him…saw the ghost.” She gulped breath. “He was watching me…from inside the greenhouse.”

  “You saw him?”

  Kiernan nodded, staring into Ele’s horrified eyes. She felt terrible. She had come here to give support, something she should have done earlier. Instead, she was frightening her to death. “I could see his shape inside. His shadow, and his eyes, his horrible eyes glowing bright and orangey yellow.”

  Did Kiernan imagine it, or did Ele’s demeanor change? She seemed more relaxed and less disturbed? She was frowning. Surely she believes me, Kiernan thought.

  “Where was he standing?” Ele probed.

  “In the greenhouse,” Kiernan repeated.

  “To the left? The right? Central?”

  Did a ghost’s precise position matter? Kiernan was mystified. “He was standing over to the right, by a broken―”

  “Pane of glass,” Ele interrupted, nodding as if it all made sense. Ele walked over and picked up a flashlight off a very fine three-legged mahogany side table.

  “Yes,” she said, before watching in horror as Ele pragmatically opened the front door. “You’re not going out there?” Ele shone the light over to the greenhouse and then she looked back at Kiernan, her face transcending from no-nonsense to total relief. Ele beckoned her to the door. You have to be kidding!

  “Please, Kiernan, it’s okay. Come and look.” Her voice was laden with compassion as she held an arm out to entice Kiernan to be brave.

  She edged forward and tried to control her nerves as she peeped beyond the door over toward the greenhouse, to the spot where Ele focused the light. There she saw again the man’s shape and his terrible glowing eyes. Her heart was in danger of exploding.

  Ele shouted an order across the driveway. “Feathers! Come on, come inside now!” She gave a sharp whistle.

  Suddenly, the illuminated eyes disappeared, and Kiernan watched as the cat slipped through the broken pane and ran across the gravel toward them. The shadow of the man was no longer present. Kiernan’s ghost was Featherstone. She looked at Ele, and they began to laugh hysterically as he darted in the door and straight into the kitchen.

  “He’s been in and out all evening.”

  “Dear Lord, Ele. I didn’t mean to scare you. How could I make such a stupid mistake?” It was the afternoon that had left her so skittish. Was Ele feeling this bad? “I hope nothing else has happened since…earlier?” she stammered.

  “Since you mention it”―Ele grabbed her arm―“something has, and is. Watch this.” She closed the front door. “Did you hear the latch click?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Would you like to test it, make sure it’s shut properly?”

  “Not really,” she said. Ele threw her a look that implied it was the wrong answer. She corrected herself. “I’d be delighted.”

  There was something in Ele’s voice, something Kiernan didn’t like, and it made her more nervous. She pulled the door. It was shut. What a curious thing to ask her to do. It was even more curious when they remained standing, looking at the door for a few minutes. This is exciting, she thought dryly. “Am I missing something?”

  “The door is shut, right?” Ele sought confirmation.

  “It is,” Kiernan said as Ele then guided her into the sitting room. They stood and waited ten seconds before moving back to the front door—which was now wide open.

  “What? How did that happen?”

  “New party trick,” Ele said. “It’s been happening all evening. The only way I can keep it shut is to put the bolts across.” A mixture of resignation and forced calm rested on Ele’s face.

  “I don’t like this.” Kiernan coughed.

  “I’m not thrilled skinny, either,” Ele said. “Do you have an inhaler?”

  Her impressive wheezing was concerning Ele. “In the car dash,” she answered guiltily. Ele took a deep breath, sprinted to Kiernan’s car where she retrieved the small device, and dashed back inside, throwing the bolts and chain on the door.

  *

  They adjourned to the welcome warmth and sanctuary of the sitting room. All the time, Feathers, who was now seated in front of the fire, watched Kiernan as he methodically cleaned each sharp-looking nail on a paw. She swore he had a smug, satisfied look on his face. Damn cat. He had succeeded in frightening her half to death. Perhaps that was what he wanted, to be left alone with his owner. Kiernan glanced at Ele who warmed her hands by the fire, and found she couldn’t blame the cat. Ele was a catch, and for her to be living alone didn’t seem right to Kiernan. She eyeballed the cat back with contempt. He needed to know he would not get the better of her and that she was the alpha.

  Kiernan wasn’t sure what felt better, the deep breaths she took on her inhaler or the single malt whiskey Ele thrust into her hand without asking. But now, with her breathing returning to normal, it was time for apologies and explanations.

  “The way I left this afternoon, Ele, it was wrong. I should have stayed with you after what happened and not left you here alone, but I was scared shitless. I’ve been petrified ever since, and I can’t imagine how you feel.” Kiernan lied. There was only so much she could tell her.

  Ele, still crouched on one knee in front of the fire, swiveled to face her, and Kiernan found herself catching her breath. It wasn’t the asthma. “Unfortunately, I haven’t helped ease your agitation tonight, have I?” she said. “Anyway, my intention was to drive over and see if you wanted company tonight, or to let you come back to my place. I did try to phone you, but couldn’t get through.”

  Ele stood and walked over to her. For a moment, Kiernan wasn’t sure what Ele was going to do. Kiss her? There was a look on her face that suggested intimacy, the look a lover gives you before sealing their lips with yours. But Ele bent down to grasp Kiernan’s hands. Briefly squeezing them, she said, “Thank you for coming.” She squeezed them one last time and then returned to the fire.

  Her face was a picture of relief as she said, “My phone’s been acting up.” She mentioned the strange clicking and white noise, before adding more seriously, “I did wonder…”

  Ele hesitated, and Kiernan sensed something important coming. “That photograph you picked up, the one of Beth and me…my partner, my lover…”

  Kiernan had been right.

  “I did wonder, when I saw the way you looked at our photo, I thought—”

  “I know what you thought, but you thought wrong.” She wanted to chase the pained look on Ele’s face away. It grieved her to think she put that there. She started to smile as she sensed a way. “My last affair of the heart”―she theatrically placed two hands on her chest―“was a female. And the one before that, and the one before that.” She cocked her head. “I think you get the picture.” She didn’t need a response. It pleased her beyond words that Ele’s eyes, eyes that had earlier registered misunderstanding, were now crinkled with warmth and clarity.

  “Oh, I’m so pleased,” Ele purred. “I didn’t want to lose you to bigotry.”

  Lose me to bigotry? Was that what Ele had thought and what had fueled the look of anguish on her face as Kiernan had left earlier?

  “No chance,” Kiernan whispered. She was finding this evening emotional on many levels.

  Ele saw the honesty i
n Kiernan’s face and not for the first time this evening, felt relief. This afternoon, after Kiernan departed, she thought she had lost her. She realized how quickly she had come to count on her, not merely as support as she struggled to explain the haunting. Kiernan had become special. A thrill had run through her as Kiernan declared she was a lesbian, too. Yet, at the same time—inexplicably—she experienced panic. They were getting on so well, so fast. Might Kiernan, if single, want something more? Ele was on edge. Why should that worry her? Hadn’t she dated other women since Beth? It had never posed an issue then. Why now? Ele didn’t know the answer.

  “Can I ask what happened to Beth?” Kiernan’s direct question forced Ele’s self-reverie back to the present. Kiernan’s forthright approach didn’t surprise her, not given what had happened over the photo. And she found no objection in it. Sometimes an upfront question was best. It was kinder than some continual skirting around an issue, trying to piece together the bits like a jigsaw.

  Ele wondered where to begin. She wasn’t used to answering this question. When Beth had died, the pain had been so intense she hadn’t been able to talk about it. Eventually, people stopped asking, which pleased her. But now she could talk, and she wanted to tell Kiernan.

  She moved into the comfort of an armchair and focused on a photo of Beth on the wall. Suddenly, Beth was alive again, and she could see her short, thick brown mass of hair, and the way she always wore her black framed reading glasses on the tip of her nose. Ele could smell her perfume again, always the same one. Beth had been a creature of habit and would never wear anything else, like the sloppy clothes she favored at home. If her academic colleagues had known what a slob she looked like away from work, compared to her neat, fashionable, almost meticulous appearance at university, they would have been amazed. Beth had also been a creature of opposites; the hard, no nonsense lecturer who demanded perfection from her students, yet the softie who cried at romantic movies and who jumped a mile at garden spiders.