Roses Are Red

Chapter 13

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Summer

June 12th, 1960

Samantha looked out the window of the chippy and studied the day with her head in her hand. It was bright, surprising for Liverpool to say the least. The sun was shining and the birds were singing, every plant in her sight was either blooming or a beautiful shade of green. She longed to go to the beach and dig her toes into the warm sand as she listened to the waves pull in and out as she read. Despite her wishes, she was was sat in a booth with a basket of fish and chips on the table in front of her. It was her lunch break, and her free meal of the day. She wouldn't have been surprised if she was gaining weight from eating fish and chips every day. But who could say no to free food?

She sighed and picked off a piece of the fried fish, looking back to the book in her left hand.

"To the sea, to the sea! The white gulls are crying,

The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.

West, west away, the round sun is falling,

Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling..."

She began smiling as she read the page, taking another bite of a fry. How ironic that the sea was where she wished to be.

"What's that yer smiling' at, Miss America?"

Samantha looked up and rolled her eyes when she saw her cousin sat in the booth across from her. "Do I never get to relax? I'm on my only break of my shift, and you show up!"

John smirked and reached forward. His hand hovered precariously over her basket before he plucked a single fry from the basket. "Oh, sorry. Do you not enjoy my company?" he said as he bit the fry.

"No, in fact. You're extremely irritating," Samantha grumbled. "What do you want? Eden isn't here."

John gasped dramatically and put his hand to his chest in fake offense. "Can't I just come here to see my dear baby cousin?" Samantha rolled her eyes and closed her book, giving up on the idea of reading. "Look, Paul's worried about ye." Samantha knit her eyebrows together. She opened her mouth to speak but John beat her to it. "That's bullshite, John, I'm fine," he mocked in a high pitch voice. Samantha scowled at him "No, ye aren't. Do ye want to know how I know?"

"Not really, no."

"Well that's too bad," John mused and plucked another fry from her basket. "First off, that was the first time I've seen ye smile in a while. Second, ye stay in yer room and house unless me or Paul come and drag ye out of it, or yer goin' to work-"

"That's not true, I've gone out with James a couple of times," she interrupted, but John went on anyways.

"Third, ye don't go to any of our shows, not that I'm complaining, yer dancing is god awful," he said and Samantha scoffed. "And last, but not least, ye and our dear kidder Georgie haven't spoken in over a week. Now, the last time that I happened I remember ye being particularly irritable and frustrating. Paul remembers it differently, he said ye were quite sad. Very similar to how ye are now, in fact."

"If Paul's so worried, then why are you here?" She asked.

John sighed and leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. His face softened. "'Cause I'm just as worried as he is, Sammi," his voice took on a more serious tone. Samantha stared at him blankly, she didn't expect John to worry about her so much. Yet, here he was admitting that he was keeping an eye on her and noticed her change in demeanor after the night with George. She bit her cheek and leaned back into the booth, wishing to disappear. She hadn't spoken to anyone about the moment in George, but it lived on her mind, replaying over and over and driving her slowly insane. "What happened between you two?"