THIRTY-SEVEN #2
Her mind raced as she stuffed her meagre possessions into her pockets.
She couldn’t even afford a dosshouse anymore, let alone anywhere nicer.
She was debating between petty theft and selling sex, or both—stealing from her clients was how she’d got into burglary, after all—when she caught sight of the carefully stitched initials in one of her shifts and her breath caught.
Calum had offered her room at his house thrice now. And thrice she’d turned him down, afraid of being indebted to a man who held power over her. But that was foolish. He was a copper, and she was a criminal. She didn’t need to stay in his home for him to have the power to destroy her.
She rolled up the shift and thrust it into her pocket, then traipsed out of the dosshouse without looking back.
She trusted Calum. Trusted him enough to tell him things she’d never told anyone else.
She even trusted him enough to be plotting against Grant with him, something she could never have imagined a few months ago.
She could trust him enough to stay at his house.
Just for a few days, until Yvaani paid her and she could get a room at a lodging house.
A thousand possibilities chased each other through her mind as she walked to his house, fretting over what to say and fearing he would retract the offer of a room, leaving her on her own.
She paused halfway up his forestair, her hands twisting together.
Between the cost of a dosshouse and food, she only needed around six pence to get her through till Yvaani paid her.
A single handkerchief could fetch double that, and Yvaani would certainly give her a fair price.
All she needed was to slip a hand into the right person’s pocket and she’d be good for the week.
She might even be able to ask Yvaani to let her stay with her for a few days, or to give her an advance on her pay.
The stone wall was rough against her scalp as she leant against it, closing her eyes. Her chest cratered at the thought of asking for anything from Yvaani, when only last night she’d been making plans to steal from her.
The sound of a latch clicking made her eyes snap open, and she turned her head to the top of the stairs. Calum started down the steps, his eyes widening when he caught sight of her.
“Aly?” His brow furrowed. “Is everything all right?” He reached an arm towards her, concern creasing his face.
“I’m fine.” That was all she needed to say.
She could make up an excuse for her presence and leave.
If she asked to stay with him, if she crossed the threshold, that was it.
She was giving him direct control over one of her most basic needs, the same as Grant had controlled it, withholding heating and ultimately leaving her homeless when she’d ceased to please him.
But Calum was smiling at her, relief smoothing his features. Whatever else there was between them, she could trust him on this. Warmth spread behind her ribs, giving her the courage to ask. “Can I stay here? Just for a bit. Some fucker stole my rent money.”
“Of course. Come with me.” Calum led her up the forestair and into the house, starting up the narrow staircase within. Aly’s boots were loud on the unvarnished wooden stairs as she followed Calum.
“Sorcha’s staying in the spare room right now, but you can have my room,” he said when they reached the landing.
Aly’s stomach fluttered. “I can go. I didn’t mean for you to give me your bed.”
“It’s fine. There’s a trundle bed in the spare room.
” He opened the door to the back bedroom.
There was a large bed against the far wall, easily big enough for two, with a chest at the foot and a fireplace on the wall to Aly’s left, which flared to life as they stepped into the room.
Aly glanced at Calum. She hadn’t heard him say anything or seen him gesture, as most people needed to in order to light a fire.
His bandolier of delicately carved bronze knives hung off the headboard.
Aly swallowed. It felt somehow more intimate to see the weapons in the room where he slept, to know that he slept in fear.
“I have to get to work,” Calum was saying, “but if you need anything, ask Sorcha. There are fresh sheets in the chest.”
He was gone before Aly had a chance to thank him.
She shut the bedroom door, wrapping her arms around herself as she stood in the warmth from the fire.
There was little to denote Calum’s personality in the room, aside from the weaponry, but like the rest of the house it had an undeniable cosiness to it, from the tartan blanket folded at the foot of the bed to the rag rug between the bed and the fireplace.
She could imagine him sitting in bed reading by the light of a dozen of his globe lamps, their white brilliance casting shadows on the planes of his face.
Aly didn’t bother changing the sheets before stripping down to her shift and crawling into the bed. The linen was cool at first touch, but warmed quickly, and the faint scent of the sheets comforted Aly before she realised that the bedding smelled like Calum. Within moments, she was asleep.
The pawnshop door swung shut behind Aly as she stepped into the dark street. She climbed the stone steps and turned left into a close, where Calum and Sorcha were waiting, huddled together in the cold.
“She’s in the pawnshop behind the counter,” she said to Sorcha. “You sure you can distract her long enough for us to get in and out?” They didn’t want to risk Yvaani going down to the tunnel to check on the shipment herself; there was no way she wouldn’t recognise Aly if she did.
Sorcha shrugged. “I’m sure I can think of something. Just don’t dither about.” She turned and started down the stairs.
“We don’t plan to,” Calum said to her retreating back.
Aly turned the collar of her coat up against the cold, thrusting her hands into her pockets as she walked towards the docks with Calum. The closer they got to the shore, the colder the wind became, without the buildings and winding closes to dull its gusts.
There was little moonlight to guide them down the treacherous steps to the water; the moon was still close to full, but the sky was so cloudy that little light penetrated.
Aly’s heart was in her throat as she led Calum to the narrow stone landing, afraid she’d hear him slip and tumble off into the sea.