Nothing is, but what is not // John Shelby

XXV

"I feel bad for your little artist, John" Polly muttered under her breath when one dark evening she was smoking her last cigarette of the day in the living room "Yet, i cannot say it was not something we couldn't expect. Stubborn artists always end up like that" she shrugged and sighed. John, who was sitting on an armchair, cleaning his revolver, raised his head.

"What do you mean?" there was confusion on his face. Since the day he woke up with this bloody pain in his arm, he hasn't seen Beth at all. Tommy explained that she had to go to work as usual. Some time ago she came to give back the clothes Polly borrowed her, but John was not at home that day. He tried to visit her, but her doors were always closed. She was also never answering the short letters he was giving to Maud Gill, so she could take them to her.

Polly's words made his heart skip a beat. Artists. You can expect them to do everything unexpected. Beginning at just yelling poetry in the middle of the street at night, and ending on autodestruction, which was the first thought in his head.

"I think she chose wisely, not stirring your thoughts unnecessarily. She's a good girl after all" the aunt finished her cigarette and put it into the ashtray.

"What are you talking about?" John asked again, having no clue what Pol might have in mind. In his head Beth was just overworked, and probably still shaken up after what happened.

"She's being seen in the Marquis of Lorne" the answer was not really helpful. It actually made him even more confused. "If she was in London, she would probably be in a public house by now." the woman shrugged, deciding to light another cigarette. John stood up quite suddenly, reaching for his coat.

"Can I know what you're doing?" he heard some amusement in Polly's voice.

"No one is going to convince me Beth is a whore. Even you" John hissed, opening the front door "I'll believe it when I see it."

"I would recommend to take money with you" He hadn't heard those words, because he was already on the street, walking towards the mentioned pub.

When he stepped inside, he felt what one always feels, entering a pub; the air thick from smoke, and the stares of people who recognized him in seconds. They wondered if he came here for a drink, or if he had some unpleasant business. John looked around the room, but he didn't see Beth's skinny silhouette anywhere. He wasn't sure if that would make him glad.

"Whisky" he said to the barman, looking around once again. There was nothing especially interesting catching his eye. When he got his drink, he took the first sip and focused on the nice burning down his throat.

"I heard Miss Auchter comes here?" John asked tha man behind the bar, who was just preparing shots for his guests. Yet, as soon as he heard Shelby's voice talking to him, he immediately turned his way, accidentally spilling some of the alcohol on the counter.

"I am sorry, Mr Shelby, I do not know anyone with this name" he answered quickly, smiling apologetically. John frowned, not satisfied.

"She's short. Short hair" he realised it was probably a description of at least half of the women in this city, but to his surprise, the barman nodded slowly.

"Are you looking for the new Lizzy?"

"New Lizzy?" he frowned even more.

"She's been coming here for the past few weeks. Pretty girl" the man explained, cleaning the counter from the spilled vodka "Since Stark found a job we haven't had any Elizabeth. And now she appeared. That's why it's a new Lizzy" he shrugged.

"Yes, that's who I am looking for" said John, already thinking about the first conversation he had with the girl. She told him then how he prefers to be called Beth.

"She was talking to a man some time ago. I assume she will be back soon" the barman took the money from other guests, pouring them some rum "Should I tell her to find you, Mr Shelby?" he offered, smiling as if they shared a secret. John only nodded, ordering another whiskey.

"Lizzy!" Beth heard someone's voice calling her, just as she entered the room. Her hand was still being held by a man whom she was kneeling before just a moment ago. She looked up. The barman called her to approach him. He liked her, even though probably only because with her presence here, he could count on the presence of men, who willingly spent their money on her, as well as on his drinks.

"There is a gentleman who asked for you," he smiled. A smile Beth knew very well already, and which she didn't like at all "The table by the window" he added, and the girl turned around to go this direction "Be nice. He is an important man."