Blind Faith (Book 1)

Chapter 11

Ash

The first drops of rain hit the pavement as Ash turned out of Dyke Road and into the next street. A sudden flash of lightning forked across the inky clouds, followed by an enormous crack of thunder. He stumbled in shock, his ears ringing as the sound vibrated through the air, bouncing off buildings and resonating for seconds after.

He stood rooted for a moment staring at the maelstrom above, as another vein of lightning pulsed and a rumbling like the old gods at war answered straight after. He could see why ancient civilizations believed in such myths; the power and impact of Mother Nature's wrath could be deadly. He felt the immense charge in the air, thick with energy, the hairs on the back of his neck and his arms tingled and stood up like a cat in flight.

He took a deep breath and put one foot forward, one after the other, slowly gaining speed, just as the heavens burst. His sister's crystal flared against his skin, he hissed and clasped it through his damp shirt, holding the rock away, while he quickened his pace, desperate to get home.

He didn't slow down until he turned into Montpelier Crescent and ran straight into the park, the overhanging bows and trees swaying like large monsters in a child's nightmare. He hid behind a huge willow tree, its long branches dancing to the storm's tune, thrashing back and forth violently.

Catching his breath, he shivered; the dampness seeping into his pores, he felt like a sponge. Ash looked up for a brief moment, his face stinging from the intensity of the rain, he staggered onwards past a brown UPS van and to his iron gate and the entrance of his apartment, the black Georgian oak door a welcoming sight.

Will I ever be dry again?

As he climbed a couple of steps to the door, brushing a hand through his soaked hair and out of his eyes, his mobile phone erupted from within a soggy pocket. Ash knew who called instantly, as the classic tune of Blue Suede Shoes started up. He had linked the music to Leon's number. Even in this atrocious weather, it brought a smile to his lips. The big man was not impressed when he told him, even when he tried to explain the words.

"Well you can do anything, but stay off my blue suede shoes." The lyrics summed Leon up instantly. So the ringtone had stayed ever since

He slipped it out and moved in closer to his door, to shelter from the onslaught. Distorted bass beats and Leon's voice shouting above the background noise pierced Ash's eardrum. He pulled it away and turned on the speakerphone while he searched for his keys, dropping his sister's crystal to the outside of his shirt so it didn't touch his skin.

He turned the key and was in, shutting the door quickly behind him.

"Hey mate," yelled Leon. "Where are you? It's banging here – just listen!"

Ash heard a loud cheer and if he wasn't mistaken, his name was chanted out in the background.

How did Leon manage it all?

"Listen to them, they're waiting for you, Ash! Ash!" Leon joined in with the chanting.

"Leon...LEON!" he screamed, forgetting for a moment where he was, glancing embarrassingly around the entrance hall.

"Yea, okay - what's up – you coming, go on mate I got you a beer already."

They stopped shouting out his name, but the music must have been turned up, his phone's little speaker couldn't handle the noise.

"Leon, I can only just hear you - where are you?" he asked, though he had an idea.

"The Cricketers, where else, I did tell you...does that mean you're coming?" he laughed, as Ash ground his teeth in reply.

"Samantha is working tonight and is very interested in meeting you; here I can pass the phone over to her. Hey! Sam! Sam!"

"NO! Leon NO! I'm staying in. The weather is crap, as is my patience!" He snapped.

"Oh...Really? Whatever!" Leon didn't sound convinced "Well let me help you with that, come and get out of the rain and get warm and cosy with Samantha – she's blonde, five foot and her eyes are-"

"Leon! No! Thanks, but no thanks - tonight, I need a break."

Leon went silent then he began to chuckle.

"Sure... you want a quiet one. You want me to come over, bring a few beers, maybe Samantha could come over after?"

Ash hung up.

"Bloody hell, he just doesn't want to listen," he grumbled under his breath. Elvis's voice started to serenade him again. Ash wanted to throw the phone but instead answered.

" What!"

"Your touchy tonight Ashy, time of the month? Huh? I'm just trying to help...come on, I just want you to be happy! I've planned it out, huh...hold on mate, sorry, I have...have to go...Emma's phoning me..." He hung up.

Ash grimaced; staring at the screen of his phone.

Emma was calling Leon...Leon and Emma? Together? No-way!

"Shit, I'm losing my mind here," he said, just as his feet gave way under him, crashing him to the floor.

"Ow...that hurt," he moaned as he gingerly leaned against the door checking his phone was okay, the device taking the brunt of the fall. The impact instantly took away his melancholy and his idiotic paranoia about Leon and Emma.

Ash steadied himself as he noted how dangerously wet the entire entrance hall had become. Flooded, like the door had been left open, long enough for the rain to seep into the wallpaper, now bubbling up around the door frame.

"She is such a pain in the ass. The old woman does my head in, so forgetful," he growled, climbing to his feet and stepping carefully this time towards Mrs Lockhart's apartment to his left.

Where did she take the bloody rug?

Mrs Lockhart often forgot to shut the door, but to take the large rug as well, no wonder he had slipped over.

It was only a small entrance hall with a tiny wooden table and a potted fern tree to the right, ironically in desperate need of watering. The room could do with modernizing and a good clean, a decade of muck and grime had dulled the original tiled floor, and wallpaper- where it wasn't faded or ripped- was a tacky yellowy-green floral design from the sixties, which messed with your mind if you stared at it too long. The masterpiece and only real shining example of the house's extravagant past was the Georgian oak staircase.

As he neared her door he paused mid-step, hearing it creak and swing forwards to kiss the frame and bounce back, not clicking shut. He winced and closed his eyes in despair for a moment, expecting her high-pitched voice to screech out his name, or her Rat of a dog to bolt out to terrorize him.

He lost his courage and changed his mind, turning to sneak away, knowing that given half the chance, the mad woman would try to grab him for a chat, or rather moan about the world and all her aches and pains. He knew she just wanted some human company, but it was also so bloody depressing. To his relief, the only noise was the wind and rain battering against the door.

What he did crave, was to get out of his soaked clothes and jump in the shower but he hesitated at the weirdness of the situation, his conscious tugging away at the back of his skull. He should at the very least, see if Mrs Lockhart was okay. He just had to do his neighbourly duties and check on her.

"Damn it," he said as he spun and reached out to knock on her door, only to pull his hand back in alarm, recognizing that low throaty growl, warning for him to go no further.

The crystal at his chest flared up in reply.