Nothing is, but what is not // John Shelby

XII

Beth spent the whole day working. She finished the complicated embroidery on Lady Macbeth's dress, while reading some fairy tales to the kids she was watching over. The world was slowly turning dark behind the windows and the shadows became long.

Back at home she found a letter on her kitchen table, which she put there in the morning, not having enough time to open it and read the message. London Coliseum Theatre of Varieties - said the envelope. Beth opened it with enthusiasm. She'd been waiting for a letter from them for a week, thinking about the rehearsal schedule that was about to take hold of her life for the upcoming month.

Dear Miss Auchter,

I am sorry to inform you that it would be better if we ended our collaboration...

The girl held her breath back. Her lower lip twitched as her eyes followed the next words. She held the letter in her hands, slowly crumpling it in between her fingers, trying to find comfort in destroying the paper that destroyed her.

Beth fell on the chair. She knew it was going to happen. She had been thinking about it all the time, at the same time pretending in front of herself that she is not aware of reality. She thought she prepared herself for this. Naive belief.

Heavy knocking on the door woke her up from a deep cry. Her head rose, as she tried to understand the change in the environment that her mind just heard. Another few knocks on the door. Beth wiped away her tears, and sniffing, she went to face the visitor. Her back straight, cleaning her skirt from non-existing dust.

"John" she muttered, seeing a familiar pair of blue eyes, and his hand raised, ready to knock again. The girl froze for a moment. They were supposed to meet at the pub this evening.

"I am sorry" she shook her head, letting the man inside "I completely forgot... I got this..." she sighed with resignation. How could she explain the reason for all of that, not willing to talk about what happened?

"Now, calm down" Beth felt a strong arm around her shoulders, as John led her back to the kitchen, where she sat back down on the chair, and the man took another one for himself "I thought something happened to you" he said, smiling at her with slight relief "It's a city full of motherfuckers"

"Something happened" she sniffed, wiping the tears away with her sleeve, handing John the creased letter, which was now just a pathetic-looking piece of paper. His warm fingers brushed against hers.

"Well, it is not surprising" he shrugged, when he finished reading the elegant handwriting of the theatre director. When he looked at Beth, John realised that it was not the best answer he could give, and definitely not the one she needed to hear "Fuck them" he grabbed her cold, shaky hand, smiling gently. He did not understand her. It was just a theatre. A bunch of masqueraders. But for some reason it all meant a lot for her, because her eyes became teary once again.

"I need a new job" she sighed, sniffing, reaching for a tissue, which she had in her pocket. Her other hand squeezed John's, who tried to be helpful.

"Don't think about this" he put his hand on her shoulder, moving a little closer "Not now" for him it felt as if Beth was falling apart under his touch, because there were new tears in her eyes. She turned her face away from him and she started weeping.

"I'll make you tea, and you'll go to sleep. '' John stood up, fixed the collar of Beth's shirt, and put the kettle on the furnace. For weeks he was watching her forgetting to sleep, and most likely also about food, which was the reason to work. He visited this place often enough to know where what was, but even if he didn't, the flat was so small that it was easy to find anything without any trouble. Yet, he couldn't find any sugar, which Beth liked in her tea. Two teaspoons. The sugar bowl was empty.

John sat next to her again. It seemed that the girl finally got rid of her tears for good.

"Thank you" she said, when he gave her the cup with a warm drink inside. Beth burned her tongue with the first sip. Her face twitched and she chuckled bitterly.

"I hoped that it wouldn't happen" she murmured "I hoped that it would be different" she closed her eyes, controlling the frustration boiling inside, and then she spoke again.

"Do you have any decent theatre in this bloody city?"