Scarlet Rose

Chapter 52

The night proved to be long for Terry, Christian and Candy. The minutes felt heavy, as heavy as the thoughts were inside their minds. The ticking of the clock disguised as question marks and full stops. The time counted backwards and the day Terry would draw a line to whatever expectations he had when he set foot in London was becoming all the more visible.

His presence, he may not have known it, but had turned Candy's life around and over. Years ago, when she had become a stowaway on that cargo ship from Southampton to New York, barely an adult herself, following him and her own dreams, she had heard the tales of the seamen from their travels, things their eyes had witnessed.

Even if the oceans and the seas of the world were all made by water, sometimes they didn't mix. A line, visible to the eye stood were they met. Currents clashed with violence and the waters turned wild, waves would come from any direction, make them the most dangerous places for a boat to navigate through.

That was where she stood. Between two seas. Each with their own underwater currents, their own separate pasts. She shared her past with one and her presence with the other. For Terry she was Candy. For Christian she was Rose. She had tasted from both their kisses and had taken her to separate journeys. Her heart had been enchanted by both men. They had stolen her thoughts, her sleep.

She had felt free with Christian for the first time in her life. And it was an intoxicating feeling. Like a drug she kept asking for him. There was calmness in her heart when she was inside his arms. She could do no wrong by him. There were no rules. She could let her heart dictate her actions, whether it was a connection she was after, or just lust. She lived inside his world and that world was just as fluid and colourful his palette was.

And then there was Terry. Her past. The love that had marked her. He had forced her to face her feelings for him. Passion was nesting inside his eyes. He was brooding, demanding, possessive. With him, there were no half measures. When he gave himself to something, he did so without restraints. It was evident in his craft, how he melted inside his role on the stage. He was unpredictable, with moods that could change as fast as the passing of the clouds on a sky dominated by gale force winds. Every fibre in her body was on edge when he was close to her.

Christian's secrets bothered her. According to Terry, he was even dangerous to be around. Terry, on the other hand, if it didn't work with him...how she could survive a break up second time around. She wouldn't, she was certain for it. Once bitten, twice shy.

That was Candy, on that particular night, with all the thoughts in her mind, carried on the smoke of the cigarette she kept between her fingers. Having both men in her life, she knew it was impossible. The seas would not mix. And she stood between them, risking to let herself drown.

There were sighs. Tossing and turnings. Eyes looking outside the windows. Burning holes on the walls. Both men having the same woman on their minds. Each posing like a cloud in the other's mind.

Christian had sussed our who Terry was and while he kept it still a secret from Rose, he didn't let a moment pass when he would make blatantly clear to Terry that Rose was with him now, she had chosen him, it was him that made her happy, she had moved on, couldn't he see? Under other circumstances, Terry would have beaten him unconscious - that much intense his feelings were for Christian - but this would also be the surest way to make Candy hate him and lose her for good. The days he just resorted to violence and liquor, he wanted to believe he had left behind, though the present circumstances were testing his restraint in a serious way.

Was it unexpected for Christian to find who Terry was for Rose? It most definitely was, though on hindsight, all the signs were there. The fight he had with her, had unnerved him, it had to be said. He came back at his home. It felt empty and quieter for his liking. To think that only a couple of weeks ago he had asked her to break up with him. That was without counting the number of times he thought she would have been better without him. But she was willing to fight for what they had. He owed her the same. Why then he felt a dread spilling its dark colours inside his blood, making it look like as black as the charcoal he traced with the drawing paper at near dawn? Through a hazy tobacco laden air and a booze flavoured breath he sketched her furiously. With an urgency of her image risking to turn into smoke inside his mind at any moment, his hand moved on the paper with feverish speed. Her body lying on the grass at the Grantchester Meadows, gracing him with those big wide smiles of hers that made him feel like he was the only man existing for her. She was his Jinny for the night. Asking her of three wishes before she disappeared. His breath quickened. The dread wasn't dissipating. Instead it choked him. Soon his hand gave up. Three wishes. If he had three wishes...easy. Take Graham out of her heart - let Raven die and make Rose say....