Choking On Sapphires

10 Black Treacle

He was asked to lead the blessings by the staff and carried out the ritual. He was flocked to by everyone but you basically. You sat back, feet up on the end of the dining room table, sipping the wine in your hand. You glance over at him to watch him charm the pants off the maids as you chuckle at the sight unfolding before your eyes.

You know that he's aware he's charming, but you wonder if he's meaning to make the young dears sigh as he also touches shoulders and swats his hands at the men he's speaking with. You'll give him the benefit of the doubt after you see him so smoothly and passively reject one of the girls advances as her hand moves to touch his chest. You laugh into your glass at the pouting face of the poor thing.

You find yourself in the kitchen after dinner, sitting on a countertop while people move around and drink wine and converse. You feel like you're transported back to some of your fondest childhood memories. Except you sat on a potato sack back then, women didn't sit on the countertops, you were told. Alfie has a glass of wine in his hand from dinner and so do you. He's up against one of the pale tiled walls, talking loudly with his hands and rolling out entertaining stories all the kitchen boys are just dying to hear. It takes you back home to France for a moment, you stare into your wine glass, watching it swirl and dance, sticking to the edges of the glass and running down again in a daze, stuck in your memories for a nice warm moment, nights spent in a room not that different from the one you're currently in come back to you vividly. You could see the smokey room and hear your uncles and cousins shouting at one another. All arguments ended in the oldest always putting the youngest in a headlock and then they'd all start laughing again. Your Uncle pointing his finger at you with a wink as he catches you holding a bottle of rum, laughing loudly he takes it from you as he pulls you into his arms. "Peu lis!" he'd shout at you in an affectionate scold, his eyes sparkling with love and amusement. You can still feel the scratch of his coat under your hands.The boom of his voice as he laughed and cursed while he retold stories of your mischief and it made you feel loved to be spoken of so endearingly. He always knew how to make you feel special when he saw your pre-determined life was starting to steal your smile from your face. No other male figure had done that for you growing up, certainly not your own father.Least of all him. Only those extended family members of your mothers. Your heart started to ache.

"Genevieve?" Alfie's low voice rips you from your time travel and your eyes flutter up to his, sitting under a raised brow, a slight look of concern on his face for you. "You alright?" he says lightheartedly, he flinches to reach out to touch you but hesitates and decides against it.

You clear your throat and blink and wiggle your face around for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I'm fine." you take a deep breath. "Deja vu of sorts." you sigh, "Got lost in my memories there for a moment, didn't I?" you give him a half smile, your eyes back to being set in reality.

"Well that's fine from time to time, innit?" he says with a gruff tone that holds no judgement.

You nod, your eyes moving about the room, there were fewer people around than the last time you looked. "Must be the wine." you say scrunching your nose, making an excuse for your daydream.

"You do look a little flushed, if you don't mind me saying." he nods his head to let you know he doesn't mean anything by it, making sure you didn't take offense.

"It's fine, Alfie." you say with a quiet chuckle, smiling and sliding off the counter. "Come, let's get some air. Not going to get better sitting in the scullery." you say, motioning for him to follow you.

You've set your hand on the stone railing across your back patio, overlooking your garden. The moon is high and the sky is black against her. Small lights peppered across the lush ground of your garden give off the only light in the dense flora that carries back and fades as you reach the far end of the garden, your bees, and berries lying beyond that.