Page 8 of Love At First Fright
“You’re living the fancy life now, kid.”
It was Jenna’s turn to roll her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
Ellis waited until she was safely inside her apartment building, and drove home.
—
An hour later, Ellis layin bed, the hearth of his bedroom lit and crackling with applewood, Fig snoring as she lay across his legs like a fluffy blanket. Struggling to fall asleep, he grabbedWhen the Devil Takes Hold,which he’d already read cover to cover three times. His copy was full of thoughts and annotations that he’d scribbled in pencil in the margins, giving himself context from the book that he would need to translate onto thescreen. He flicked open to one of his favourite scenes, the big climactic finale, where his character, Alfred Parlow, realises that the ghosts infesting his uncle’s crumbling manor weren’t trying to kill him but his uncle. Ellis couldn’t wait to act out that scene in the pouring rain, the moment when one of the ghosts would reach out a bony, mist-clad finger and point to the elder Parlow. The idea of it sent shivers down his spine.
It was the most excited he’d been to act in years, principally because the story was so different to all the action flicks he was known for. He would finally get to play a role that was more than quippy one-liners, performing slicked in oil and tanning lotion, and talking to a tennis ball on a stick. Only a couple more days and he’d be on set. Only a couple more days and he could finally meet this Rosemary Shaw in person and give her a piece of his mind.
3
Rosemary sucked in a breath—shehated taking the tube. The tinny sound of music playing through headphones, the smell of oil and stale air and too many people’s armpits. The lights were glaring, and she escaped the platform to find the train carriage even busier. But worst of all were the remnants.
Not to be confused with ghosts, a remnant was a memory, or perhaps a moment, manifested into a spectral form. The non-ghost-seeing population were surrounded by remnants far more than they realised. When something impactful happens to a large group of people in a place, it leaves a scar, and cities as old as London were rife with scars. Like a palimpsest, remnants from various periods folded over one another throughout the city, and when you went into its bowels, like the tube, they broke through. Of course, this was only an issue if you had the ability to see them.
As the tube hurtled through the dark tunnel, Rosemary caught glimpses of faces hovering in the darkness, some with their eyes closed, others wrought with expressions of fear. Those were probably stations where civilians died during the Second World War. She did her best not to look too closely atthem, even if they weren’t really there, just echoes of a harrowing memory.
At the first chance she could, she got off the train, choosing to walk from Holborn to Dina’s café, which was located in the heart of Bloomsbury, minutes away from the British Museum. Rosemary couldn’t help but beam when she saw her friend’s café with its purple awning, the windows a little steamed up against the cold.
October at Serendipity was a brilliant sight to behold. The bell jingled as Rosemary stepped inside, pulling her suitcases (one for clothes, a bigger one for books) behind her, and the scent of cinnamon, ginger, and just a hint of honeyed pumpkin washed over her. The coffee machine was rumbling loudly, and the armchairs and colourful wooden tables were all full of people studying or catching up or taking a moment for themselves amongst the London hustle and bustle. Protective evil eye charms hung from the walls, along with framed paintings of Dina’s favourite poems. String-tied bunches of dried lavender and eucalyptus were pinned by the front windows, lending a delicate floral scent to the air, as well as having the secondary magical purpose of cleansing the space, if Rosemary correctly remembered what Dina had told her.
Every inch of this place reminded Rosemary of Dina.
The three of them—Rosemary, Dina, and Immy—had met during an Addams Family costume movie night back when they were in university and had been inseparable ever since.
She heard a squeal, and found herself suddenly enveloped in a hug, a mass of brown curls tickling her face.
“You’re here! You’re finally here!” Dina laughed, pressing a kiss to Rosemary’s cheeks.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Rosemary said, squeezing back. “I’ve missed thisplaceso much. But first let me see the ring!”
Dina grinned, flashing her left hand.
“Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“You could take someone’s eye out with that thing.”
Dina cackled. “Sometimes I feel like a magpie, I just catch myself staring at it and cooing.”
“As you should! How’s Scott?” Rosemary asked, looking around. Scott spent a lot of his time working out of the café instead of his office at the museum, and Rosemary couldn’t blame him. The couple used every spare minute when they weren’t working to plan their wedding. It was going to be an intimate affair, but a creative one, no doubt.
“He’s good, working on his new exhibition about Maori tattoos at the moment, but you’ll see him soon. Come round to the kitchen now,” Dina said, looping her arm in Rosemary’s. “Immy will kill me if we spend any more time catching up before she’s said hi.”
Rosemary ducked around the counter and stepped into Dina’s kitchen. She loved it here. The copper pots and pans hung from the sunlit ceiling, the ovens were full with deliciously scented pastries and cakes, and there was a fresh batch of blueberry muffins, her favourite, waiting on the polished wood counter.
Immy sat in one corner, using a breast pump. She was positively glowing, her blond hair buzzed short, and she was sporting a bold red lip.
“Don’t look at me, I’m a mess.”
“A beautiful one.” Rosemary grinned, reaching over the pump to hug Immy. “How are you doing, how’s the pumping?”
“My boobs are huge…Eric loves it.” She winked. “But they’re so sore. I swear, my body knows when I’m away from the twins, too, motherhood is so fucking weird.”
“Bet it makes for great writing ideas, though,” Rosemary said.
