☆
PENNY CRAWFORD WAS TO BE MARRIED.
Clara had genuinely thought her ears had deceived her. There was no conceivable way that her Angel would be married off at eighteen. Surely Will had been mistaken. There was no other explanation and yet...no, Will must've been mistaken.
Clara Shelby had walked home that night with a heavy soul that pondered the depths of the matter raised. She'd found herself withering in a solitary state, with a whiskey bottle clutched tight in her hand and a cigarette in the other. She'd already consumed the rest of the cocaine that remained in the bottle which had been previously stored safely in her bedroom.
She felt torn as if her mind was pulled apart seam by seam and stitch by stitch.
Her mind had dwelled on someone she'd long left behind. Someone who she didn't even really know anymore. Her mind had pondered the childish dreams of her youth. There had been a time when she thought they'd be inseparable, just two kindred spirits until the end of time.
Alas, how could an Angel like the one the Shelby girl claimed to be hers, ever love the scum and terror Clara and her family were built from?
Clara had sat downstairs in the living room of number six Watery Lane, her bleary eyes trained on the flames in the fireplace.
Penny Crawford was to be wed and surely Clara could have no objection. She couldn't be upset or mad or frustrated. She didn't know the blonde anymore. They were strangers. They'd grown both physically and mentally Clara had imagined. She shook her head as the thought of the news lingered. Penny was getting married to a man.
Of all things...a man?
Clara's heart had physically hurt at the thought. Thousands of thoughts poked and prodded at her like she was some freak experiment. They were horrid questioning thoughts. Thoughts Clara didn't like to entertain.
Had Penny changed her mind about who she liked? What she liked? Was it all a pretence? Had Clara just been a game?
Surely not...was she?
Her eyes had focused ahead of her as they blurred from both the heat and impending tears, tears that would not fall. The warmth of the fire had done little to soothe the cold feeling in her chest, a cold feeling that rippled and edged with heat with each drag of her cigarette.
The flames before her brought forth the memories of the nightmare she had been plagued with on the night of Tommy and Grace's wedding. The dream where her body ignited while she writhed and pleaded with her cold and callous brothers for respite.
Clara had watched as the flames curled and engulfed the wood within. She had watched as the flames sparked in hues of red and orange, each smoky tendril disappearing up the chimney. Her eyes had stung and begged to refocus but Clara had not let them.
"Claraaaa..."
She had heard the voice. The same voice from before, as loud and clear as ever. Clara had placed the bottle beside her as the voice echoed and rattled around her mind, taunting and teasing her. She had scooted closer to the fire, her gaze unmoving as the flames grew closer and warmer.
The voice had grown more distinct through the static of her brain. The voice had become simultaneously low but high, an odd combination of sounds that shouldn't have been mixed but were. It had enticed her.
Her blurred vision had become tainted with deep red as she had sluggishly rolled her head to the side. The girl's chest had risen and fallen while her hazy mind had tried to wade through the trenches of her thoughts. Clara had leaned closer and reached out as the voice called out for her again. The voice had been shriller and more desperate and that was when all the thoughts had begun to flourish— the voices, the pain, the anguish, the taunts, the teases, the pain...
Clara blinked and inhaled sharply as she came to her senses. She swore loudly as she withdrew her outstretched hand from the warm fiery depths of the fireplace. She stifled a pained cry at the stabbing ache that radiated from her fingertips to her wrist. The girl stumbled to her feet, knocking over the whiskey bottle in the process. She shoved her hand under the faucet and doused her hand in a stream of cool water.
Her hand was crimson and speckled with stubborn flecks of soot. It throbbed and stung in a way that reminded her of a bee sting...if you multiplied the feeling by ten.
But, Clara hadn't felt anything. Not when she stuck her hand in, not when her flesh began to bubble. She had only felt it when she'd refocused. When the voices got so loud that she couldn't bear to sit still anymore. How didn't she feel it? Clara stood at the sink with her hand under the tap as her chest moved up and down in a rapid manner. Her body had reacted to her pain but her mind had not. She couldn't feel it, but her soul did and it burned and burned yet Clara hadn't felt a thing.
The girl stood there in the moonlight as the grand clock ticked. Its tick echoed around the kitchen. Its ominous noise sent shivers down her back. Clara's hand was raw and stiff as she painfully flexed it. She slowly and tentatively smeared some of Pol's salve over it—a salve that had been collecting dust in the back of the cupboard since Pol had moved out. She held her hand to her chest as she rummaged for bandages amongst the contents of the medicine drawer. The girl let out a small sigh of relief as she found the bandages hidden in the back. She mindlessly wrapped her hand in the white thick bandage as her eyes focused on the ground rather than the wrapping.
She was simply tired...that must've been it.
Clara Shelby was fine.
She was fine.
The girl found herself sliding down the wall as she sat on the floor of the kitchen. It was peaceful down there. The wall behind her dug into her back comfortably, in a soothing way. A way that reassured her that she did not have to move and so that is exactly where she found herself sleeping that night, leaving the spilt whiskey on the floor and her injured hand behind her as she slipped into the realm of the night.
Clara's dreams were not dreamt sweetly, but they weren't quite bitter either. In her colourless dream, the images were warped, so warped that she could not clarify what they were. And just as she tumbled into the dreamless cavern of obsidian, she swore that above her the most beautiful girl hovered over her in a pristine white dress. The white glowed in the darkness providing Clara light as she fell into the endless abyss. It was like a lantern signalling an escape. A sign of hope.
Yet when she blinked. The girl and her light were gone— extinguished by the damned fate Clara had been trapped by.
And Clara Shelby was left alone.
In the dark.
With her thoughts.
Alone...Simply, alone.
☆
IT HAD BEEN A MERE THREE DAYS SINCE CLARA SHELBY had scalded her hand in the flames of number six Watery Lane's fire. She had since been avoiding the living room altogether and either found herself sleeping in her office in a snow flurried daze or sleeping in the Yard's stable like the stallions and mares that surrounded her. She was completely and utterly exhausted, but she wasn't allowed to be. She had to be awake and alive. She had to feel the thrill of life, the waves of emotion her life held.
But she felt nothing.
Zip, zilch, nada.
Nothing.
Clara had to feel. She needed to feel. She wanted to feel. She needed anything...anything at all to boot this feeling from her life.
And so Clara Shelby found herself in a club in London once more.
"Oh, c'mon, don't tell me you dragged me here just so you could stand and drink!" Nadia whined as her fingers subtly trailed up Clara's bare arms. "If I had known that, I never would've come!"
"That's a lie and we both know it," Clara mused as she sipped her drink. The club around them roared with lively music and dancers. The flow of drinks came through the club in a steady stream.
"You haven't even complimented my dress," Nadia jokingly whined, her hands smoothed down the red, beaded dress that ended just above her knees.
"It's very nice, although you seem to make everything look ten times better,"
Nadia hummed in satisfaction and picked up Clara's bandaged hand.
"What was it this time?" She questioned, "fighting off bad guys? Did you dance so hard you sprained it?"
Clara let out a small chuckle, "Close," she admitted her quiet and teasing voice not going unnoticed. "I saved a damsel in distress from a knight and my hand took a hit from his sword,"
"How chivalrous of you," Nadia praised, her lips pursed as she took Clara's drink out of her hands and sipped from it. "Does that make you a hero?"
"Nope," Clara tutted, "that makes me the villain, don't you think?"
"Well...I always did prefer a villain, perhaps you are like my very own Lady Macbeth..." the girl paused, her warm eyes flitted to Clara's. "I read it recently, are you proud?"
"Very," Clara replied briefly and rather softly before she cleared her throat. "but circle back to the Lady Macbeth comment...you think I'm crazy?"
The Shelby girl wasn't all that sure of the answer herself.
"More like a pre-madness Lady Macbeth," Nadia corrected herself, her hands covering Clara's. "I always did find her to be quite," the Evans girl leaned closer. Her lips brushed the shell of the Shelby's girl's ear. "—enticing..."
Clara clicked her tongue behind her teeth—a teasing sound when combined with the slight smirk that played on her lips while Nadia withdrew.
"Does that make you the damsel?" She queried, Nadia laughed softly, her hands now placed on either side of Clara's face.
"No, that makes me smart," she answered, "villains always spare their beloved." Clara didn't answer as she waved at the bartender for another drink. "So, Shelby...dance with me?"
"Mhm...I'm not quite convinced,"
Nadia placed a small blue bottle on the bar counter, Clara glanced at it before turning towards the girl with a grin.
"And it looks like I've been swayed."
Clara had been dragged from the bathroom onto the dance floor where people allowed their movements to be dictated by the rhythm of the jazz band. Her brothers had often been very vocal about how downhill music and dancing had gotten. Arthur had told her that when he'd taken over the Eden Club, the first thing he wanted to do was ban the racket that came from the Jazz band.
It came with little surprise that Clara did not agree with her brother's view. She found the style of dancing and music quite freeing. There were no rules to these dances unlike the uniform of the waltz, Charleston or foxtrot. This dancing— this very London-esque way of dancing was just moving your limbs in a way that matched the random music that the band played.
Clara found herself lost in the vivacious crowd as the band started playing another upbeat tune. Nadia was in front of her, their chests brushing together as they moved. Blue locked on a deep caramel as they grew closer. No one paid any attention to the two girls. It was nothing the people in this club hadn't seen over a hundred times. The two were pressed together as they moved, their bodies shifting and moving but their eyes remained on one another. Her dress was growing shorter and shorter as her arms slowly raised, pulling the bottom hem up even further.
Oh, if her brothers saw her like this she'd never be allowed to leave Watery Lane ever again.
The effects of the cocaine she'd taken only minutes prior were beginning to set in as the world around her smudged and all she could see was Nadia. The girl in front of her had her lips parted and eyes half-lidded as her hungry pupils focused on the Shelby girl.
Nadia was so unlike Penny in so many ways and perhaps that's why Clara liked being around her so much. The girl was easy to be with and seemed to fit perfectly into the scheme of Clara's life.
Yet, Nadia was no Angel.
No...Nadia-Marie Evans was the devil. A symbol of temptation, a bargainer. The epitome of sin. A sin that Clara craved to taste and enjoyed it. She reckoned that if Aunt Pol heard her, the religious woman would compare Clara to Eve in the garden.
Was that not the story in the bible?
Eve tempted by the serpent with the sweetest of forbidden sins before she was presented with the bitterest of consequences. Clara relished the sweet forbidden sin she'd been gifted and she'd yet to meet the bitter consequence that seemingly followed.
The Shelby girl moved without care as the preposterous drumming and trumpets filled the club. Her movements felt sluggish as she swayed, the heat of the club crept up her spine and towards her flushed cheeks.
And then she detached.
It was like her mind just simply switched off. As if she fell asleep except she was awake just completely unaware. She'd done this before. Her mind had blacked out hours upon hours of her days. She'd grown used to it. She couldn't remember what exactly happened during these 'blackouts'. She couldn't even really recall anything before that either, but it was better than being aware and numb. It was better than being aware and feeling absolutely nothing at all.
It was only when she heard and felt the click of her lighter igniting to light a cigarette did Clara snap back to reality. She was sitting on the edge of a bed and as she slowly glanced down at her naked form, her shaky hands clutched the cigarette tight. She took a long drag. Her eyes drifted towards the bed behind her where Nadia lay underneath the white rumpled sheets, her fingers lazily trailing down a page of a book.
Nadia's tanned arms were out of the sheet, exposing her bare shoulders. The street lamps from outside flooded in through the thin curtains in hues of orange and yellow. The Shelby girl presumed that dawn was not too far off. Clara squeezed her eyes shut before she inhaled deeply and moved to lay beside the girl reading.
"Nuh, uh, uh," Nadia tutted, her eyes not looking away from the novel. "If you get ashes on my sheets I will personally use them to hang you from the light fixture."
"Duly noted as usual," Clara nodded, tapping out her ashes on the small ashtray beside the bed. She sucked in some more smoke before she stubbed the cigarette out.
"Staying?" Nadia asked, glancing toward the Shelby girl.
"Until morning," Clara confirmed, "and before I forget, I want to ask you something..."
"Does it require thought?"
"What?"
"Does what you want to ask require thinking?" Nadia huffed as she shut her book.
"I guess?" Clara's nose scrunched up.
"Then ask in the morning," the Evans girl shrugged as she tossed the book to the floor and rolled closer to Clara. "Now we sleep."
"Yeah...now we sleep."
☆
CLARA SHELBY HAD NOT SLEPT THAT NIGHT, yet she remained still and quiet as Nadia's form curled up beside her, their bare skin pressed against one another. Nadia's room was an organised chaos, something Clara recognised all too well. Clothes were strewn around the floor with odd bits and bobs littering the dressers and cabinets along with scraps of fabric and material. The room was slightly smaller than Clara's in Watery Lane, but it was big for London.
Nadia was a dressmaker in one of the shops in the city. Clara had never been to the girl's place of work, but she assumed it paid well. The Evans girl's apartment was relatively small but not claustrophobic in the slightest. Nadia had utilised the space and had made the best out of what she had.
Clara liked that about Nadia.
The Shelby girl watched as the sun rose and poured into the room and spread over the two girls. Clara had waited until the sun was higher in the sky and the hustle and bustle from the streets below grew louder to slowly move out of the bed. She slipped out of Nadia's grasp and covered the girl with the bed cover before Clara crept around the room to gather her clothes.
It was too early to go outside in a dancing dress, so Clara found herself drifting toward Nadia's closet. She sifted through the clothes and grabbed a green dress from the middle. She knew the other girl wouldn't mind. She made her way towards the bathroom with her bundle of undergarments and the dress.
Clara had taken her time getting ready as she scrubbed her body of last night's lasting and ghostly touch. She combed through her tangled locks with her fingers before she decided to just leave her hair down. She smoothed her hands down over the dress before exhaling and exiting the bathroom.
Nadia was now awake and remained lying in bed as Clara walked towards her shoes.
"Stealing my clothes are we?" Nadia tiredly hummed as Clara looked up with a smirk.
"You'll get it back soon enough," Clara chuckled as she slipped the shoes onto her feet.
"You look good in green, Shelby"
"And here I thought you preferred me in nothing at all?"
"Oh, well...green is a close second," Nadia commented as she paused to yawn. "Take a coat, it's bloody freezing and I'm not even outside."
Clara grabbed a black coat from the girl's wardrobe with a brief word of thanks. She slipped her arms through the coat and grabbed her dress from the night before.
"What did you want to ask me last night?" Nadia suddenly questioned. Her curiosity had practically swallowed her whole. Clara turned to face the girl with a small smile.
"How do you feel about charity events?"
☆
CLARA HATED PEOPLE. It was official. She hated them, despised them in fact. She'd reckon that if she were to be the only person left on earth, she'd be quite content in her solitude. She stood off to the side of the ginormous ballroom packed with donors and overall rich and snotty residents of Birmingham and London alike. Claustrophobia rained down on her like shards of glass pinching and pricking her skin. Beside her, Nadia stood in a maroon gown, her hands tapped against her champagne glass nervously as more and more people entered the room.
It was the night of the Shelby Foundation dinner to raise money for...something. Clara should probably have known what the event was for as she was the one who dealt with the paperwork, however as she glanced around, she couldn't remember a single detail. The girl recognised faces amongst the crowds. There were people who owed money. People who did dealings. People who needed information. The rich of the rich. Everybody who was anybody was in attendance.
Clara had seen her brothers sulking through the crowd in pure boredom, so it came as absolutely no surprise when they decided to join Clara once they'd spotted her. As John, Finn and Arthur approached, the girl let out a soft swear before she downed the contents of her champagne glass. She glanced cautiously to Nadia who watched the crowd in budding amusement.
The Evans girl knew that she couldn't do anything with Clara with all these people around, and as much as Clara wanted to kiss Nadia and rip the maroon dress from the girl's body, she had to resist it.
"Clara," Arthur greeted with a sniff whilst all three of the Shelby boys examined Nadia up and down. Clara knew the look on their faces and anger swelled in her gut.
"Who's your friend?" John asked as his eyes continued to scan over Nadia's figure. Clara glanced at Finn who stifled his chuckles at the Shelby girl's thunderous expression.
"A friend from London and John, she has a boyfriend so don't bother," Clara replied dismissively, her tone monotonous and passive while her jaw clenched. "Don't you have a wife to bother or a wild pack of kids to raise or something?"
"Woah...what's got you all in a fuss?" John laughed, his lips quirked up.
"You interrupted a very good drink," Clara sniffed stiffly. "I was enjoying it."
"You finished your drink before we came over," Finn pointed out.
"Yeah because I had to chug it to tolerate this conversation," the girl smiled a sickeningly sweet smile. "And where's the enjoyment in that?"
"Hm..." John tutted, "so, what's your name?"
Nadia looked towards the brothers, her lips pursed in a way that threatened every fibre of Clara's body.
"Nadia-Marie," she introduced herself as John cheekily took her hand and kissed it like he was in some cheesy moving picture.
"John," her brother replied, his eyebrows raised as he glanced down at her once more. Arthur nudged him to continue walking through the crowd while Finn's face had a knowing smirk across it.
John and Arthur bid the two a swift goodbye and just before Finn could follow, he turned to Nadia with the widest grin she'd seen him bear.
"So you must be the wild animal!" He mused as Clara huffed in exasperation.
"Wild animal?" Nadia hesitated. Her eyes flitted to Clara's in confusion while the Shelby girl offered her a comforting look.
"The one who mauled my sister the day of my brother's wedding," Finn proudly joked, Clara promptly hit him across the head. "I'm Finn, the favourite."
"Lies," Clara rolled her eyes, "Now piss off, squirt," Finn's eyebrows scrunched as the nickname rolled off her tongue.
"Squirt? You're like a metre smaller than me," the boy snorted,
"You are quite small, Clara," Nadia hummed, looking the girl up and down while her lips twisted into a smile.
"Really?! The two of you?" Clara moaned, "Finn, go away, I can still push you down the stairs here and Nadia, I thought we had something."
Nadia inched closer ever so subtly and allowed her pinky finger to brush against Clara's. "And we do, but even you can't deny your height...or lack thereof," She chuckled.
"Ouch," Clara scrunched her nose as she took Nadia's drink and sipped from it. "And to think that I tolerate you."
"Oh, you do more than tolerate,"
Finn cleared his throat, "I'm going to go find Isiah," he announced before he moved away from the two and waded through the growing crowd.
"Your brothers are quite something," Nadia laughed as she grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter.
"They're pains in my arse," Clara grumbled as she took the drink from Nadia with a quiet 'thanks'. "Surprisingly though, they're not the worst. The worst is somewhere here with his wife and oh boy! Do I have so much to tell you about her..."
"Well, I look forward to meeting him and you know how much I love interesting stories," Nadia grinned while she shifted a little bit closer to the Shelby girl.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," a man called out over the crowd. "A loyalty toast to His Majesty the King!"
"To the King!" People chorused. Nadia raised her glass, while Clara didn't bother, quite like the rest of her brothers. The king hadn't done anything for her and her family, why on earth would she be loyal? The girl tossed back the remnants of her drink with a straight face as Nadia sipped away at her own.
"Dinner is served!" The man called out once more.
"Bloody hell, I'm starved," Clara moaned as she placed her glass down and nudged Nadia. "Will we go get some food?"
"Well, I most certainly didn't come here just for you, I've heard the food is supposed to be impeccable," Nadia teased as the two began to walk towards the exit of the room. Clara smiled as her eyes drifted around and landed on Tommy and Grace who kissed and remained in a close embrace as those around them mulled out of the room.
"For Angel!"
Clara watched as a man broke through the crowd with a gun and fired. She pushed Nadia behind her instinctively as Grace tumbled to the floor in Tommy's embrace. Arthur tackled the man with the gun as people around them scattered in fear.
"Go!" Clara sternly told Nadia, "I don't want you to be caught up in this!"
"I'm staying, Shelby, this doesn't scare me...I won't leave you here!"
Clara faltered as the girl grabbed her arm. Their eyes locked and the Shelby girl saw no fear in them. Clara glanced toward her horrified family.
"Please...I'll meet you outside but I have to stay," Clara whispered pleadingly, "I promise I'll meet you but you have to leave."
Nadia scrunched her face up in concern before she gently squeezed Clara's arm. "Careful," was all the Evans girl murmured before she fled the banquet hall.
Clara glanced at Nadia as she ran before she crept towards her family. Arthur, John and Finn were beating the shit out of the man with the gun whilst Pol ran for an ambulance. The girl grew closer to her shocked older sister, who simply grabbed Clara's hand as the two watched Tommy cradle Grace's limp body.
The blood that seeped from Grace's chest was visible even from the distance in which Clara stood. It was a fatal shot, one that the girl knew couldn't be fixed.
And so this was it...it was the end, and Clara knew it.
Grace Shelby was dead and Tommy was already falling into the depths of the darkness.
☆
SO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS SOME OF YOU DID GUESS WILL'S NEWS! SO CONGRATS! How do you feel about it??
How are all of you on this fine Friday? I've been mainly chilling out all week so I'm doing good!
ANYWAYS, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AND I'LL SEE YOU NEXT WEEK! Here's your weekly meme!!