Michael Gray- Mystery Man

chapter eight

Play the song as you read

Living in a rich London apartment with the love of your life. What more could you want? In Anastasia's case, a lot more...

Things had been different ever since she married Michael. There was no real love anymore. Her father was right. He began to become apart of the more illegal side, not letting her in. Many things had changed, Tommy now owned as much of London as the Edwards did. Tommy even began becoming legal in some areas. But most importantly his wife died, Tommy never slipping back to the way he was. And it makes sense, love is fucked. Grief is the price we pay for love.

Michael and Anastasia were rich, she didn't need to work. Michael didn't need her help. Her parents didn't need her. So she became a stay at home Mum... minus the child. She had insinuated that suggestion many times but Michael wasn't ready for that either, they hadn't made love since God knows. She wanted a family, something to love. Having no one to talk to she fell into depression.

It had been a year since her marriage. A year of solid sadness. Michael ignored her. Came home late. Woke up early. Quick kiss on the head. That's all she'd see of him. If he even came home that was. Things became awkward.

And she knew this morning would be like any other.

London, December 2nd, 1920, snowy and cold, 10:00 am.

"Morning." He muttered as she entered their dining room, taking a seat across from him. He paid no mind as he didn't even bother to look up, sipping from his coffee mug, cigarette between his fingertips as he absently flicked through the daily newspaper. Deja vu.

Anastasia scoffed, reaching for her mug as she poured in the pot of coffee. Flicking his eyes, he subtly studied the girl; she looked like hell. Her hair was tangled, her under eyes were blue and her jovial look was nowhere to be seen nowadays.

"What you up to today?" Anastasia finally spoke before crossing her arms. "Another day of ignoring me?" She commented bravely.

"Work." He replied bluntly, his eyes flicking back to the piece of paper within his hands.

"Sleeping with whores?" She rolled her eyes, sipping her mug.

"No Anastasia." He clenched his jaw. "Hard work that's provides for us!" He shot as he stood up, pushing his chair backwards as he grabbed his jacket from the back of it, heading off in a rush as always.

"Hard work." She replied quietly as she was left in their empty apartment, swirling the residue of coffee in her cup. Anastasia didn't mean to be rude, it was the only way she could get a reaction out of him, firing him up.

Slowing trodding upstairs, she found her way into the bathroom. Glancing at the mirror she eyed her state. What a mess. No wonder Michael didn't want to spend time with her. She was disgusted with herself. Mortified. What had she become? Gripping onto the sink she steady her breathing, tears escaping her eyes as she ran the cold tap, scooping up the water as she dashed it across her face. Some people have a skin care routine every morning. Some people have a fitness routine every morning. This was hers. The crumbling of ones self. The agony of sadness. The abyss of loneliness.

Examining her eyes over once more she believed a slight nap was in order. Sighing, she made her way to bed, slipping under the covers as she rested her eyes.

Who was she kidding? She couldn't sleep. The bed never felt the same anymore, it held no good memories, as well as this house. Tossing and turning she gave up, deciding to run a bath instead.

Dipping in her foot, her toes began to curl, the warm water hitting all the right places. She felt nice for a few seconds, soaking up the liquid as she lay within the bath tub. She liked the bath tub, she felt as if she was washing everything away. A sort of exorcism for her feelings.

Slipping on some clothing her eyes fluttered towards the window. For the first time in a while it was beautiful outside. There was a thick layer of snow upon the ground, delicate, intricate patterns of snowflakes sprinkled throughout the air. Winter was here. The sky darkening at the season. Black lampposts dotted the street, the warm, yellow lights paving the way.

Fuck it. She trailed over to her wardrobe, pulling out a sandy brown jacket, wrapping it around herself she decided to take a walk. Being cooped up inside was doing her no good. She made her way outside, stuffing her hands in her pocket, her nose turning a slight shade of pink as she began her walk into town.

It wasn't far away, she could hear the faint voices of the market upon the local square. Fish. Butchers. Clothes. It was all there. Seeing the outside world helped her. She travelled to where the market stalls stood, a woolly-white duvet sat on top of the stall roofs.

"Come buy your fish!" A fat man yelled in a white apron. "Salmon on special offer." He winked at Anastasia. She strolled past him, interested to see what stall had a bunch of customers crowding round it. A sweet fragrance had wafted through her nose as she politely squeezed past strangers, her eyes lighting up in joy of what was in front of her.
An old woman had made freshly baked cookies, ranging from chocolate chip, raisin and oatmeal, orange and gingerbread.

"Alright my dear?" She hummed as she watched Anna sought through the biscuits. Anna nodded in response, pulling out some change as she pointed to two of the sugary desserts in front of her. Her heart began to swell at the white laced gingerbread man, dotted with silver sparkles.

"Two please." She mumbled shyly, handing over way too much cash.

Taking a bite, she wandered through some more stalls, her eyes never hiding how she felt happy for once. Serene. Stopping by another stall, she scanned over the beautiful array of flowers that lay before her. Tulips. Daffodils. Peonies. Poppies. Bluebells. Smiling excitedly she picked up a handful of tulips, her nose taking in the scent as she closed her eyes.

"Ah miss. A real garden fairy aren't you?" The man behind the stall commented, as she opened her eyes in shock. "Here." He smiled. "One for you." He gestured to her, a rose in his hand as he winked.
"For free."
She grinned in appreciation but paid him anyway before heading off.

The outside had done her the world of good. She took in the sound, taste and smell. She felt more alive than she had in days. But all good things must come to an end. It began to get dark and so she decided to head home as slow as ever, dreading the night that was ahead. She entered the penthouse as quietly as ever, scared Michael may say something. Not that he'd care come to think of it. It was pretty late when she entered the bedroom. What she saw didn't shock her. Her bed was still neatly made and hadn't been touched. Of course Michael wasn't home. She got undressed and slipped under the covers as she tried her hardest to fall asleep, even though it took time, something about her day had allowed her to slip into a slumber. It was if a dial had been turned down a notch, she felt the slightest bit relaxed as she turned off from the world for the night.