~6~
When we picked up our luggage and headed for the Heathrow tube station, it was well after eleven. The train, one of the last ones and thus crowded with all the late travellers who wanted to avoid waiting for a night bus, took nearly thirty minutes to get to our destination.
Once outside our station, we were welcomed by the Hammersmith's typical noise and bright lights, the ceaseless nocturnal confusion caused by London's never sleeping inhabitants and visitors. And of course, by a cold autumnal drizzle accompanied by a light fog rising from the nearby Thames.
London. I was at home. Just that it didn't feel so.
I trailed behind my friends down the high road, fighting my urge to run back to the airport.
"Come on, hurry up, you'll get wet!" Lucas took a few steps towards me, my bag hanging on his shoulder again. He grabbed me by my arm to make me walk faster.
"I can walk on my own," I said, freeing myself from his grasp. I didn't like his manners at all.
"Fine, but hurry. You'll get sick, it's too cold to walk in the rain," he insisted, looking at me curiously again.
What is his problem? Throughout our journey, I caught him observing me suspiciously, nearly as often as I caught Lia doing the same. Maybe I should start getting used to people considering me weird... I mused, walking a bit faster.
The boys and Anne left us outside the house where the girls' flat was and continued down the road. The place where they lived was still some ten minutes' walk away, they told us.
I whispered to Anne to keep her phone on all the time, making her laugh. She was the most careless and irresponsible person I have ever met. You followed a man you've never met in this life through a time passage; what does it say about you, hmm? My subconscious hissed at me promptly. Right. Who was I to judge anyone.
Lia and I climbed to the third floor slowly; there was no lift in the old building. I had managed not to fall asleep during the long flight, but now I was exhausted. My bag felt too heavy, and my whole body ached from the uncomfortable seats of the airplane.
Lia unlocked the door, telling me to leave everything in the sitting room and go take a shower while she made my bed in the spare bedroom. Their third flatmate had moved out a while ago, leaving the girls with an extra room and a higher rent to pay. At least I would have a bed tonight; I had tried sleeping on their living room sofa before, and I did not wish to repeat the experience.
I took my bag of toiletries and pyjamas out of my luggage and made for the bathroom. It was too late to wash my hair, I needed to get to bed fast to be able to get up on time to go to work in the morning. Secretly, I was happy about it. The last time I washed my hair, two days ago, it was in the wooden tub filled with scented water in the castle, it was still redolent of burning wood... I've developed some very medieval habits during the year. Katerina would be proud of me, I thought with a pang in my heart as I studied my face in the mirror above the sink while I brushed my teeth and hair after the shower. I looked... different. More serious. Sad... and empty... I shook my head at my reflection, then exited the bathroom.
"Thanks, Lia," I said when I found her in the spare room. Not only did she make my bed, but she even brought my luggage and handbag over, and made me a cup of tea.
"Are you tired? Hungry? You should eat something," she said.
What's wrong with her? We always cared about each other but this... concern about my comfort and well-being was quite new.
"I'm not hungry," I told her, sitting down on the bed and taking a sip from the steaming cup she had placed on the nightstand. Lemon and ginger infusion, my favourite. "I'm too tired to think about food."
"Fine. But make sure you eat something before you leave in the morning. Even if you feel nauseous again, understand? I'll leave some ginger biscuits on the kitchen table; they usually help with the sickness..."
"Why are you so... caring, Lia? You don't really think I'm... ill or something, do you?" I asked, unable to pronounce 'pregnant' out loud.
She laughed. "No, not ill. It's nothing. Rest. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll pass by your shop on my way to class."
I agreed, and she started walking towards the door but stopped halfway across the room.
"Why don't you move here with us? We've got a free room, and you've been thinking about moving out for a while," she proposed.
I rolled my eyes at her. "As if Mum let me."
As much as I'd love to move out, I couldn't do this to Mum. My parents owned a big house across the river, in Barnes, and if I moved out, she would be left living there alone. It had been months since my father didn't sleep at home. Not often, at least.
"You know I can't really leave Mum," I told Lia, even as I realized that I hadn't been worried about her quite this much when I thought I might remain in the castle. But staying with the man I loved more than... than anything, seemed like a better reason to leave Mum than moving out with the girls on a whim.
"Did your father leave her? Like, officially?" Lia disturbed my silent reverie.
"Not officially, no. But he really only comes home maybe three times a week. You'd think he worked on Mars and not in the City," I explained. We didn't usually talk about our parents.
"I see. Well, should you change your mind... I'd be happy to have you here. Good night, Samara," Lia said, closing the door behind her.
I switched off the light and lay down, thinking about Lia's words and my parents, falling asleep almost immediately.
"I love you, Samara."
Vlad's soft voice startled me back to consciousness after what felt like ten minutes of sleep.
I switched on the bedside lamp and reached inside my handbag, placed by Lia on the floor next to the bed, for my phone. It was only six o'clock in the morning. I still had nearly two hours before I would have to go to work, but there was no way I could go back to sleep after this awakening.
His voice felt so real. I had been too tired to dream last night, but I heard Vlad at the crack of dawn, whispering in my ear as he used to do almost every morning, anyway.
You mustn't cry, not here, not now. I reminded myself as my eyes filled with tears. I switched the light off again and stood up slowly, cautiously, expecting the wave of nausea that would send me running for the bathroom.
Strangely enough, nothing happened, I only had a light headache. The sickness I had been feeling for weeks didn't appear this morning. Whatever I had had seemed to be finally gone.
Suddenly, I wasn't sure that I was happy about it. The notion of being possibly pregnant had settled at the back of my mind despite my trying not to think about it consciously. I wouldn't really mind... No. It's better this way. Everything would be so much more complicated with a child.... But it would have been Vlad's child, a part of him with me in this world... Don't go there! My subconscious warned.
I took a deep breath and walked over to the window. The glass pane offering the view of the high road was sprinkled with drops of water; it must have rained all night. It was still dark outside, but the road was already busy. The cars, making so much noise that I could hear them easily through the glass of the third floor's window, were crawling slowly in both directions while the first commuters were rushing at the speed of lightning towards the tube and bus station.
What am I doing here? I missed the view of the peaceful sloping meadows framed by the forest and the distant Carpathians. This wasn't my world, not anymore. I've become a stranger in my own time.
I hung my head and walked back towards the bed, forbidding myself to think about anything of what had happened over the year. I had to go on, and I couldn't possibly do it if I kept looking back.
The paper bags containing the things I had bought at the airport were on the writing desk next to the door. I hadn't even noticed when Lia had put them there. Taking the green skirt, I shook it out slightly and removed the price tags, then spread it over the bed. As the shop assistant had promised, it wasn't creased at all, despite having been squashed in Lia's luggage for hours. Artificial velvet wasn't quite as soft and beautiful as the real one which I used to wear, but it had its advantages.
I took my toiletries and walked across the silent flat to the bathroom as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake Lia. Once back in my room, I got dressed, donning a pair of simple black leggings under the skirt, and a dark green cardigan with small fake pearl buttons on top. There wasn't much to choose from, out of those few things I had carried with me for the trip. But this cardigan happened to be the perfect match for the moss green skirt. With my green jacket worn over the cardigan, I'd be all green today. Apart from the shoes, of course, I thought, frowning at my white trainers as I put them on.
Once I packed my things and gathered my hair in a messy bun, I stripped the bed, leaving the sheets folded on the desk for Lia to wash. Then I headed for the kitchen, my bags on my shoulder, and the empty tea cup in my hand.
I decided to have some breakfast later, in one of the many small cafés scattered along the high road, but I took the pack of biscuits Lia left on the table with me, not wanting her to worry.
I pulled the door to, as quietly as I could, and walked down the stairs, adjusting the cumbersome luggage on my shoulder. There were no messages from Anne when I checked my phone outside the house, and I didn't see her rushing all upset up the road from the direction in which I saw her disappear last night either. Her nighttime adventure went well, hopefully.
It was only seven when I started walking up the road, along the two rows of still mainly closed shops and offices, by the small, already busy square complete with a very contemporary, minimalistic fountain, where William's theatre stood... William! He hadn't sent me any more texts so far, but it wasn't like him, giving up so easily. I sighed, realising that he would most probably turn up in the shop at some point.
It was still too early to do anything else but having breakfast. I walked in Paris, a tiny, shabby chic, Parisienne-style corner café situated at the end of the square, across the road from the book shop where I worked. I ordered my cappuccino and a croissant and settled in a booth facing the road, rather than one offering the view of the fountain and the theatre. This way, I would see Mr. Turner, my boss, as soon as he arrived with the keys. It wasn't a precisely cold morning, but last night's rain made it feel very humid, and I preferred to wait for him indoors.
I finished my breakfast fast and feeling still unusually hungry, ordered another croissant.
Then I took my copy of Dracula out of my handbag bravely for the first time since the night when I got back into this reality. I wasn't going to reread Vlad's note or look at any of my pictures obliterating Bram Stoker's words, I still couldn't do that. The only thing I wanted to see was the postcard I had bought in the hotel.
Taking it out from among the book's pages, I studied it carefully. Too soon I realised that it had been a mistake. I shouldn't have looked. I started to crave Vlad's arms around me as I saw him embracing me in the picture and the feel of him under my own arms wrapped around his body. Pull yourself together. Breathe. My subconscious hissed at me as I let my fingers roam over the picture gently, my eyes flooding with tears.
"Samara, it is you! I've never seen you in Paris before!" A vaguely familiar voice made me jump.
"Lucas. What are you doing here? Is Anne all right?" I asked, trying to collect myself.
Lucas pushed my bags, lying on the seat across the table from me, farther to the window, and sat down.
"She's good, I think. I haven't seen her or Mark since last night. And I was just thinking where to have my breakfast today when I saw you through the glass. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"You are already seated, Lucas," I said dryly, averting my eyes from him, looking towards the shop across the road. Just in time to see Mr. Turner coming up the road. I still had twenty minutes before he opened, but I'd prefer to spend them with my boss than with Lucas.
"That's my boss," I said, looking back at my companion, finding him grinning at me. "What now?" I asked, annoyed by his presence and behaviour. I couldn't understand this guy, and I wasn't in the mood to start trying.
"Nothing. Just that you look a bit like her, with your hair pulled up like that," he said, sliding the postcard I had forgotten about from under my fingers and looking at it closely.
"Nonsense," I said, standing up and taking it away from him. I slipped it back in the book and put my jacket on. "Would you mind passing me my bags? I must go."
He stood up, too, scanning me from head to toe, letting me take my bags on my own.
"Nice skirt," he said after I put the book in my handbag. "My uncle is a huge Dracula fan, if he saw you... May I take a picture of you?" he asked unexpectedly, taking a phone from the pocket of his black leather jacket.
"No, you can't, Lucas. You are being ridiculous. I'll see you... sometime," I said, heading for the door. Hopefully, never.
"See you later, Samara," he called, his voice laced with laughter as I exited the café.
There were so many things and people I had to deal with already. Why did I have to meet Lucas too? I thought, walking to the nearest pedestrian crossing and rushing towards the book shop.
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