Cold heart, Black night

Chapter Two

So, if you've got here so far, you've just become my new best friend. I hope you enjoy. 

Much love. If its one thing you should know about me, its that i like love.... makes things so much nicer, don't you think? 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Two

England is just one island full of cold.

It hit me like a bullet once off of the train. Sure, it’s October, it’s winter; but damn. I’m surprised my blood didn’t just freeze up in my body there and then, because that’s what it felt like. New Orleans is cold, but this Brighton; it was hypothermia and death just rolled into one.

My flight took me to Gatwick Airport, where I went through customs, collected my luggage and was sent out to collide with arctic air. The flight was tolerable, if a little boring with not a decent film on, and had left me completely jet lagged. It took almighty strength for me to take on the social worker who met me at the train station, minutes before I was about to board.

She wasn’t Josephine. Josie had been my social worker since I was born, and so having a new girl was understandably difficult. She was only a little older than me, with swishy fake red hair and a silly accent that was hard to understand. It sounded like Irish, but you couldn’t really tell.

‘Well, good afternoon to you, grumpy! How’s about a good handshake?’ She says, flashing a pair of gleaming braces at me. I take her outstretched hand and shake it, embarrassed at how loud she is. ‘There now, aren’t you quite a beauty? I can see I’ll have my hands full, fending off them boys! I’m Caitlin, by the way. You must be Miss Clancy?’

I nod, smiling, but really just busy to see if anybody is noticing that she’s with me. ‘Just Lara, actually.’ I mutter.

‘Lara! What a pretty name! And here I was thinking the offices had told me you were a Georgia! Lara is much nicer, very unusual; I think one of my grandmothers was named it actually…’ She says, climbing on the train after me, sitting in the same booth I clamber into. It was like having a very annoying dog that didn’t stop yapping, and followed you everywhere. Except you couldn’t tell it to go on back to its bed.

‘Ah, Caitlin, if you don’t mind my asking, where is Josie? My other social worker?’

‘Oh my God, you’ve got the daintiest accent! Urm.. Well, Josie couldn’t exactly come all the way out here for one person, could she, pet? So, you’ve me for now. But don’t worry, I’m nice!’  Of course, no one would all the way out here for me. Oh well.

She continued to prattle on like this for the whole journey. And for the whole journey, I just wanted to leap across the table and put my hands around her throat. She really couldn’t shut up.

To get away for a few minutes, I went to the bathroom, which was on the other side of the train. I wobbled to my feet, taking off my coat and gloves, and walked really slowly through carriages. This way I wouldn’t have as much time with Caitlin. We were full speeding through Burgess Hill, wherever that was, and I quite admired some of the pretty town they had. It wasn’t all gold sand and tank top clad Californians, nor were there huge rolls of fat, the stereotypical American- there were people of all ages, wrapped up of course, sitting on the cobbles and enjoying it. I could smell the sea and something else, something sweeter, even on the train; It was kind of nice.

Boy, did I look like hell though. Once in the bathroom, I gave myself a good once over in the mirror. I had on my skinny jeans and black knit sweater to ward off any chance of getting sick, my thick dark hair that reached midway point down my back was tangled and knotted, huge dark bags under my eyes, eyes that were normally a sparking clear blue. It was often how people identified me, by my eyes; they weren’t…average, you could say.