Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
IRIS
‘I like it here,’ I said, looking around at the cosy atmosphere.
Archer put his elbows on the table and I could see the muscles flexing beneath his skin.
‘I was thinking about what you said a while back.’ He spoke in a low voice. ‘In the greenhouse. You were trying to get to know me, and I wasn’t particularly open.’
I nodded sarcastically, a smile tugging at my lips, and then urged him to continue.
‘Well, I thought I would bring you here. So I could show you… well… me.’ He took a swig of his wine.
‘I come here a lot. These people know me. I know I’ve not been great at letting you know me – I think maybe it was self-preservation, you know,’ he frowned, ‘for obvious reasons… but I thought bringing you here was a good start.’
Butterflies filled my stomach and I nodded. ‘I get that, and I really appreciate you showing me this place.’ I looked around and felt the warmth, heard the laughter, and I could see it all reflected in Archer’s face in a way I never saw when we were on the grounds of the university.
‘And I'm glad you came,’ he breathed. ‘So, what’s your first question?’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, my head tilting to the side.
‘I mean, now’s your chance. Ask me anything.’
‘Oh…’ I thought for a second. ‘Um…’ My entire head emptied out. He made me nervous… in a good way.
He chuckled. ‘How about I go first? Let’s start easy. What’s your favourite colour?’
‘My favourite colour?’ I laughed, ‘Out of everything, you want to know my favourite colour?’
‘Definitely,’ he said.
I looked at my wine and swirled it gently, thinking. ‘It’s crimson,’ I whispered. ‘The darkest red… I know it’s kind of morbid, but like the colour of blood.’
He nodded, contemplating. ‘Like your ribbon.’
I forgot I was even wearing it. ‘Yeah, exactly.’ I reached up to touch it absentmindedly. ‘So, what’s yours?’
‘Green.’ He didn’t even miss a beat.
‘What kind of green?’
‘Like emeralds. Vibrant.’
‘Great,’ I said, ‘now we’ve got our favourite colours down, what about something a bit deeper?’
‘Okay.’ He ran a hand through his hair, and a few strands fell back into his face. ‘You go.’
‘Okay…’ I thought about it. ‘Will you tell me now where you’re from?’
I noticed his features fall slightly as soon as I said it. Instant regret bloomed inside me, but he answered anyway. ‘A small town called Willow Grove.’
He didn’t speak for a while so I decided to gently nudge him. ‘What was it like?’
‘It was… beautiful. For the most part.’
‘For the most part?’
‘My mother died when I lived there.’
My heart cracked slightly at his words. ‘I remember you telling me that you lost her. I’m so sorry, Archer.’ I reached an arm across the table to clasp his fingers in mine. ‘We don’t need to speak about it if you don’t want to.’
‘No, it’s okay. I want to be open with you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘She didn’t actually die in Willow Grove. Both of my parents… they went on a trip. I was fifteen at the time.’ He shook his head. ‘My father came back… she didn’t.’
‘What happened?’
‘She killed herself,’ he said bluntly, running a hand through his hair. ‘While they were away. The police had no answers. I never even got to see her body at the funeral.’
‘What does your dad say happened?’
‘He never spoke of it. Or, refused to, is more accurate. The loss of my mother changed him. I mean, he was always cruel, but from then on he became hostile and abusive, he rarely came home after that, leaving me to raise myself. I guess the house – and me – reminded him of her. He never recovered from the loss. I left when I was sixteen.’
I didn’t know what to say as a lump grew in my throat. I swallowed it down. ‘That’s horrible, Archer. I’m so sorry.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘I know,’ I whispered, the memory of my own father lingering in the back of my mind. ‘But those things can stay with you.’
His silvery eyes flicked up to mine. ‘You lost your mother too.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘And father.’
‘Fuck,’ he breathed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘My mother died giving birth to me, so I never had the chance to know her.’ I let out a slow breath.
‘I guess, in a way, that’s better? Because I didn’t have to love and lose her…
So it was my father who raised me.’ I smiled a sad smile.
‘He was amazing. He went to Ashcroft, you know? I didn’t know that until after… ’
Archer held my gaze. His eyes were full of emotion. ‘How old were you when he died?’
‘Eleven.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah.’ I took a sip of my wine.
‘Is that when you went to the orphanage?’
My eyes darted up to his, my eyebrows creasing. ‘I forgot you knew that.’
‘Does it bother you that I do?’
I considered that, and then continued, ‘No. I don’t think so. I just don’t like the idea of people at Ashcroft knowing where I came from.’
‘Why?’
‘Because all the students at the school… They're all so privileged and perfect.’ I let out a self-deprecating laugh. ‘I guess I felt like an imposter.’
‘Did you have doubts about coming here?’
I thought about his question for a moment before saying, ‘A little.’
‘A little?’
‘Yes. Part of me was desperate to escape my life. Any form of a fresh start was better than nothing, right? But I also had my reasons to stay.’
‘And what were they?’
‘Well…’ I said quietly. ‘The orphanage I grew up in – it wasn’t exactly… good.’
‘How so?’
‘Miss Cartwright’s Home for Youths,’ I said slowly, the words tasting sour on my tongue.
‘Honestly, it was more like a prison. That… woman,’ I spat.
‘She had no right running an orphanage.’ I swallowed and put my hands in my lap to stop them shaking.
‘I don’t even understand how she was allowed to – It’s not like her cruelty was a secret. ’
I closed my eyes, cringing at the memories that came flooding back.
‘When I turned sixteen, she tried to cast me out onto the streets – I was of age, after all, and she no longer wanted me around. I was just one more mouth to feed,’ I scoffed.
‘But, there were some kids in the Home who were helpless against her cruelty and selfishness, and no matter how badly I wanted to get away, for me, I just couldn’t bring myself to leave them there to fend for themselves.
I was the oldest… and I felt responsible for them.
Therefore, I made it my job to clothe, feed and care for the little ones – since no one else was ever going to.
So I convinced Miss Cartwright to let me stay on to work part-time, in the gardens, while I studied on the side.
’ I sucked in a deep breath and finished off the rest of my wine in one long gulp.
‘Leaving those kids to come here is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
’ A tear slipped down my cheek and I hastily wiped it away.
‘But before I left, I taught a lot of the older children how to discreetly care for the little ones and support each other, without attracting the attention of Miss Cartwright…’ I cleared my throat. ‘I just hope they’re all okay.’
It was quiet for a long moment.
‘Iris,’ his voice was so soothing. ‘You are amazing.’ I looked up, surprised. ‘You’re clever, passionate, and so strong.’
‘I’m not strong,’ I huffed.
‘Yes, you are,’ he breathed. ‘You’re one of the strongest people I know – to go through everything you’ve been through.
Choosing to stay in an environment like that, just to protect the people you care about…
It’s… inspiring.’ His eyes shone. ‘I hate that you had to go through that,’ he whispered, he leaned forwards to take my hand, squeezing it gently.
It was silent for a time, while he rubbed gentle circles on my palm and we listened to the soft music, and watched the flames dance in the hearth.
‘I didn’t mean to spill like that,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
He frowned and sat up straight. ‘I brought you here so that we could get to know each other, Iris, and that’s exactly what we’ve done. And I told you never to apologise to me.’ He swept my hand up in his and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles. ‘Now, what can I do to help?’
I considered it. ‘I guess there’s one thing you could do for me.’
‘And that is?’
‘Go and buy some stronger drinks,’ I said, a grin breaking through.
With a mischievous smirk creeping across his features, he stood. He placed a kiss on my forehead before he headed back towards the bar.
We laughed, joked, and drank for a long time, simply enjoying each other's company. We talked of everything and nothing, and when a new band began to play – two men with banjos – we moved over to sit at the bar. To be a part of the merriment.
‘Another please, mate,’ Archer called out over the music and laughter, as Keir spotted us.
‘Coming right up,’ he said eagerly.
We sat facing each other on the bar stools so that our knees touched.
Every now and then people who knew Archer would pass by, some stopping to chat, and some just waving from a distant corner of the pub.
I enjoyed seeing him this way. Happy and stress-free.
He would always introduce me to those he knew, and for a time I forgot what we were.
I forgot that what we felt for one another was a secret.
‘Hey, Locke!’ a man said, approaching us. He’d just stepped inside, his long black raincoat and hat wet from the downpour. He walked over and smacked Archer on the back familiarly.
Archer stood to greet the newcomer. ‘Ah, Sinclair! Long time no see.’
‘Indeed! Where have you been hiding?’ he said enthusiastically. ‘That school of yours keeping you busy?’
Archer looked down at his hands. ‘Something like that.’
The man grinned and turned to me. ‘And who’s this?’
Archer didn’t answer, so I stepped in. ‘Iris Blackthorne. Nice to meet you.’ I held out my hand and he shook it, his grip firm.
‘Iris Blackthorne… I don’t know the name. New in town?’ he asked, one eyebrow raising slightly.
‘I am,’ I said politely. ‘And you are?’
‘Chief Tobias Sinclair,’ he said proudly. ‘Nice to make your acquaintance. Welcome to Stonewall.’
‘Chief?’ I asked meekly.
‘Chief of police here. This is my town.’ The way he said it made him sound like a king presiding over his subjects. ‘So if you have any issues, you let me know, won’t you, darling?’ He winked at me and I shivered. ‘How did you two meet?’ he asked keenly.
‘Oh, well we—’
‘We just bumped into each other,’ Archer finished.
Sinclair laughed, shouted to Keir to pour him a drink, and wandered off, distracted by the thought of liquor. My shoulders relaxed.
‘You okay?’ Archer whispered.
I nodded. ‘A friend of yours?’
‘An acquaintance,’ he said, his lips tugging downwards. ‘He’s useful, sometimes.’
‘Useful?’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He laughed.
The night slipped by in a haze of laughter and warmth. The weight of the outside world seemed to melt away. We twined our fingers together, leaning into the warmth not just of the hearth, but of each other.
Keir appeared now and then, topping up our glasses and giving us knowing smiles, his presence subtle and steady.
Then, just as I was leaning back, savouring the moment, Sinclair appeared by the door and cleared his throat loudly.
‘Excuse me, folks. Sorry to interrupt your evenings,’ he called out, his voice cutting through the pub’s hum.
The band stopped playing. ‘We’ve just received reports of a storm moving in.
Strong winds, heavy rain, and it’s only going to get worse.
I strongly advise all of you to head home before that happens…
’ He gave a brief, apologetic nod towards Keir, then continued, ‘All trains and boats have docked for the night due to the conditions. If anyone needs help or shelter, don’t hesitate to call the station. Stay safe.’
With that, he gave a quick salute and slipped out into the rain, the door closing behind him with a soft thud.
Patrons exchanged nervous murmurs, their glances darting towards the windows.
I felt Archer shift closer, his hand brushing mine. ‘Looks like we’re stuck here for the night,’ he said, a small, almost mischievous smile tugging at his lips.