Money's the same, whoever gives it to you. That was the point of money, after all: crisp and clean or wrinkled or disintegrated into quarters - a dollar was always worth a hundred cents.
Scott Westerfeld (The Last Days, 2006)
Cal had still no idea, who had sent him the pistol some weeks ago. He had spoken with Mr Lovett or better Mr Lovett had told him a few things, the most important one being that he didn't wish Cal to see his daughter ever again.
Great, now Rose had succeeded in robbing him of the only person, who had in spite of everything cared about him. After all Julia and the sons had been out of reach for years for him…even before their final separation…
Cal glanced at the calendar. Nathan would be ten next week. He would've to send him something.
Maybe a model railway…?
No, didn't he have already one?
Besides, with which money should he buy…and after all Julia or her father would throw it away unopened anyway.
Cal wouldn't admit it to himself, but he missed them – his sons and Julia too. He had never known what a real family was good for, not before he had lost them.
'You shouldn't drink so much, Cal.'
He had never listened to her, until it was too late.
"Cal, are you here?"
Lucy?
What was she doing here? Didn't she know that…?
"Cal, please, I know you're here. Open the door; I need to talk to you."
Once Cal realized that she wouldn't just leave, he hastily grabbed a shirt and put it on.
"Lucy," he said trying to sound surprised.
"Can, I come in?" her question was to no avail though, as she had already pushed her way forward.
"Lucy, I think you should go."
However, Lucy wouldn't have it.
"You have a nice home, Cal," she told him pretending that she hadn't heard his demand.
"Oh, it's nothing…," he mumbled.
You should've seen my houses in Pittsburgh and Philadelphia…
"What does she have against you, Mrs Calvert I mean?"
Cal looked at her, although he should've seen this question coming, it still left him speechless.
"My father stated to me that she mentioned something to him that he would never be able to forgive anyone, but he…now he wouldn't tell me more and now…"
"Now you came here so that I do."
Lucy nodded.
"Yes."
She was beautiful, indeed, not as beautiful as Rose, but still she had something about her that made him love her. Life could've been so easy, if only…
"Lucy, I believe it's better, if you leave now."
Rose had excused herself and he had quickly followed her.
'Whatever has gotten into you?'
Outside he hadn't paid much attention to the boy, Rose had been looking at. After all his was only steerage…no rival for him.
Oh dear, how wrong he had been.
"No, I won't go. I want you to tell me the truth now. What is that you're afraid of?" she cried out touching his arm, which Cal swiftly shoved away taking a few steps back.
"I'm not afraid."
Lucy shook her head in frustration.
"Cal, please whatever it is…just tell me…I love you, Cal. Please, don't drive me away," she pleaded with him on the edge of tears again.
"Lucy…," he looked at her.
She was so vulnerable.
Cal wished he could be something to take her pain away. He knew exactly how she felt. A long time ago he had been thrown off guard, just like she was now.
"It's getting dark. You really have to go, before your father starts arranging a search party."
It was meant to be a joke, but neither one laughed.
"Cal, I feel so…so lost. Why can't you understand that?"
Cal moved forward touching her cheeking, Lucy leaning into his most welcome hand.
"My god you're so young."
'I'll be seventeen next months.'
'Yes, indeed, a young lady you're,' he had kissed her hand at this, receiving a heart-warming smile in return.
How long ago that had been.
"She was my fiancée," he finally uttered.
"Your what?" Lucy couldn't believe what she had just heard.
"Yes my fiancée. It just didn't work out."
Lucy didn't understand anything of it.
"Did you betray her? Is that why she detests you? Isn't it?"
"Lucy, I told everything you need you know. Now please go, young Lucy. I think you find your way out alone."
He didn't await an answer, just turning around leaving her standing there.
"Cal…come back…tell me," she cried hysterically grabbing the next bottle slamming it against the wall. "Damn you Mrs Calvert…and damn you Mr Caledon Hockley why are you doing this to me? Why are you lying, why do you shut me out!" she screamed on the top of her lungs.
…
"I've brought a new clock for our church. The old one was nothing good anymore."
"Of course. I've…"
Cal couldn't help the eavesdropping as he was just entering the shop himself. It was very noticeable that both of them were quite nervous. Without a doubt, they hadn't awaited him.
The mayor stood next to the priest.
"Mr Hockley…," the first one spoke up obviously astonished of seeing him here.
"Don't bother, Mr Clayton. I'm only here for my weekly purchase," he told them waking up to the counter.
The two others could only stare at each other.
When Cal was done shopping he once more turned his attention on them.
"I was simply wondering…with which money do you plan to pay for this clock?"
At hearing his words the priests jaw almost dropped.
"Mr Hockley, when Mrs Calvert does…," the major stepped in for his defence.
"You mean once I'm dead," Cal stated matter of fact.
"Oh, no Mr Hockley…nobody wants to see you hurt…"
"Is that so, your Excellency?"
"Of course Mr Hockley…we're decent Christians, after all…"
Cal wasn't impressed. They sounded like hypocrites to him.
"But money are money, after all," he answered leaving them surprized.