It wasn't until four weeks later that Richard came across Abby, her nose in a book, upon the beach where she said she liked to read. He hadn't been able to get back to the café in that time, events at The Artemis Club kept him busy. He didn't want any of his troubles following him there lest it harmed her. But that business had settled and he felt comfortable enough now to seek her out.
He found her sat on a checked blanket on the sand, leaning back upon the columns. She was wrapped up in a navy blue wool coat, knees up, her black stockinged feet flat against the blanket, giving him a fine view of her shapely calves and ankles as the wind whipped her dress skirts about. Her hair was mostly tucked under her hat although Richard could see the wind had gotten hold of some of that, blowing long strands of chestnut curls in all directions. He walked across the sand to greet her.
"Good Afternoon", he greeted her. Abby looked up from her book and brushed aside some of her hair. The wind had caught her cheeks which were blooming in a bright rose color. Her brown eyes were bright and vital, she looked beautiful and wild.
"Good Afternoon Mr Harrow", she smiled warmly.
"Richard, mmm, please", he reminded her.
Abby shimmied further to the right of her blanket and motioned for him to sit down.
"Please park yourself, Richard".
He sat down beside her, pleased the good side of his face would be the side she was next to. He stretched out his legs and noticed that she copied him. He smiled to himself.
"What's so funny?" she inquired.
"Your legs. Are short", he nodded to their outstretched limbs side by side. She looked down at her short legs beside his long ones and laughed. It was a melody that warmed him.
"I'm not short, you're just too tall", she nudged him with her shoulder playfully. Richard rested his hands upon his thighs, keeping them still. Abby put her book down and they sat in a companionable silence for a moment just looking at the waves crash onto the shore.
"I haven't seen you for a while", she remarked.
"Mmm, I've been busy", Richard replied. "I hoped I'd see you today". He turned his head to gauge her reaction and was encouraged when he saw that that this had pleased her. "What are you reading?"
Abby picked up the book again and passed it to him, she seemed embarrassed.
"Poems by Wilfred Owen", she replied. "He was this British poet, died in the war. This other poet, that made it through… his friend, he got some of his work together and got it published…"
He looked at the cover of the book and he nodded in acknowledgement. He didn't want to talk about the war. Abby was sweet, clean and unmarred. He didn't want to dirty the moment he didn't want it to dirty her. He tossed the book on the sand.
"I just…wanted to, I don't know…well, I know you and I guess I want to understand" Abby explained.
"No one can understand. Unless you were there. You can't so don't try". Richard didn't mean to snap at her but he did.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to offend you, or upset you…"she apologised. Abby was visibly upset fresh tears of embarrassment swam in her wide eyes threatening to spill over.
She got on to her knees suddenly, leaning over him to pick up the book. Instinctively Richard grabbed hold of her wrist tightly to prevent her, fearing she would leave once she had gathered her things up. Abby gasped in shock and then tried to pull her wrist away.
"Let go", she asked him, trying to keep her voice level.
Ashamed Richard dropped her wrist immediately. He looked down at the blanket as she grabbed the book and then turned from him to place the book in her basket but she didn't move away.
"Are you alright?" he asked her after moment. Abby did not reply but nodded and looked away, he saw her hand move to her face and he knew she was wiping her tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Mmm. Or to frighten you", Richard continued. He felt awful and sick in his stomach. He'd ruined everything.
"It's okay", she assured him in a quiet voice.
"Did I hurt you?" he had to ask, his hands gripping together tightly.
"No, I'm fine. My Momma always told me to mind my own business. Please let's just forget it", she turned to him once more, putting on a smile, despite watery eyes that would betray her.
"Your mother dispenses a lot of advice", Richard remarked trying to change the subject though he could feel something had changed between them.
"Well she sure did try".
"Are you from Atlantic City?" he asked her. Richard doubted it; she had an accent that was not native to the area.
"I'm from the south", Abby replied, he noticed she was twisting on a button on her coat that was loose upon its thread, she was uncomfortable. "What about you?"
"Wisconsin. Mmm. Where in the south?"
"Just down south", was all she revealed.
They continued to make small talk upon the weather, places they liked along the Boardwalk, cities they'd like to see, he talked about Tommy, though he didn't elaborate much upon what exactly was his business with Tommy's family and soon enough the spark returned and it felt comfortable again. They sat together as it grew colder and later. Abby mentioned she ought to be getting home and Richard stood to help her off the sand, she took his hand confidently, seemingly forgiving him for his earlier behaviour. He shook the sand off her blanket, folded it up and tucked it in her basket which he insisted on carrying as he walked beside her to the Boardwalk.
"Would you. Like me to drive you home?" he offered. Abby considered this for a moment.
"That's very kind of you. Thank you, I would like that", she replied and Richard offered his arm which she smiled and accepted.
It felt right, their arms linking together as they made their way across the Boardwalk. Richard didn't even mind the stares folk were giving them, because he felt Abby hold him closer as the cold night air drew in around them. When they reached the car, he held the door open for her and helped her in. Once they were both inside Abby rubbed her hands together. She was chilly. Without saying a word, Richard took off his coat and gently wrapped it around her shoulders, as he did so his mask brushed against her cheek and Abby drew back.
"I'm sorry", Richard said sadly.
"It's cold. It surprised me, that's all", Abby giggled and shrugged. Then Richard felt her hand upon his good cheek. Her skin was soft, her touch gentle. Her thumb stroked along the contours. "Well, this side is not much warmer" she remarked and then she suddenly surprised him by placing a chaste kiss upon it. He felt himself blush.
"There, that should heat it up a little", Abby removed her hand and looked straight ahead out of the windscreen.
Richard smiled. It was more than he deserved today.
Abby gave him her address and off they set. Things were quiet again, both seemingly content in their own thoughts. Richard was glad for the silence. He was so happy he was afraid he might have burst out how much he liked her, how much he wanted to kiss her. And kiss her properly. Momentarily the memory of her calves in stockings crept into his mind. He imagined himself peeling them off her, of feeling her bare skin, he'd like to kiss her there too. He wondered if it would make her sigh. He thought of her petite legs lying entwined with his own in bed. He thought of how her small body would feel under the size his own. They'd take their time and he'd be gentle, he'd be so gentle with her. He felt his face flush again and he tried to stop thinking about it. Abby was a nice girl. Jimmy had told him he'd find a nice girl and would settle down. He never believed it. Not really. And yet here was this nice girl, who was funny and sweet and who it seemed liked him. Honestly and without pity. Not like Odette or any of the girls back at the house who either felt sorry for him or tried to get him into their beds for the novelty of having the masked killer underneath them. And then reality struck him like a knife in the gut. That's who he was. He was a killer. A murderer, it didn't matter he took out people who were dirty, who knew the risks. It didn't matter if he saw them as soldiers in a war. Abby wouldn't see it the way he saw it. He'd take her goodness and sully it with his own darkness. He'd take her freshness and destroy it. She would be afraid of him, not just of his scars but because of who he was; what he's done. She would be afraid of him and he didn't think he could bear that.
"Richard?" her voice disturbed his thoughts.
"Hmm, I'm sorry. Did you ask me something?"
"I asked if you had ever heard of the Troubadour Club." Abby inquired.
"The Speakeasy?" he answered, confused. He knew The Troubadour, the Darmody's had invested in it as a little side line and sometimes he went along to check on that investment.
"Yeah. It's Frances' birthday tomorrow night and I'm being dragged along", she sighed.
"I've never seen you in a Speak", Richard confessed. "You don't seem, mmm, that type of girl".
"Are you saying I'm a bluenose?" Abby arched her eyebrows and the both of them smiled. "Anyway I hear you go to them".
Richard didn't like where this conversation might go and he certainly didn't like what people might have been saying to her about him.
"Sometimes. Not as much now", he confessed guiltily.
"Well they're not my scene but they've asked and asked for so long and I promised I'd go" she sighed. "This is my building, right here" she pointed out a large boarding house on the corner. Richard pulled up a long side it and he got out, running round the front of the car to open the door for Abby. She took his hand as she stepped out and didn't let it go as they stood on the pavement.
"Your coat", she reminded him and he carefully removed it from her shoulders. "Thank you for the drive home".
"Hmm, you're welcome".
Abby stood still, expectantly. Was she waiting for him to kiss her? Richard tentatively placed his gloved hand upon her cheek, when she didn't recoil but instead closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his palm he knew that she was. He leaned down and gently placed his lips or as much as he could of them upon her own. He felt her lips curl up into a smile and then he stepped back.
"The Troubadour hmm? " Richard asked.
"Tomorrow night. About ten I think" Abby nodded.
"That's. Good to know".
"Goodnight Richard", Abby bid him.
"Goodnight Abby" he replied.
He watched her safely inside the boarding house and then got back into the car. He drove off with a burning in his heart.
