Chapter I

Small Heath, Birmingham. What a town. I always thought that if I leave America it would be for some place better… This wasn't what I pictured. Smoke everywhere, from the factories, from cigarette, I couldn't make out the difference. At least the people here were decent. Or a tad more decent then in America. There was some staring but no animosity so far. At least, according to my sister, Celeste, there were no lynching or race riots. Only gang related crimes. Which were better because at least you know you get trouble when you're looking for trouble. I hope you're not looking for trouble here, Celeste wrote in one of our correspondences. I wasn't looking for trouble. Only justice.

There I was. 10 Watery Lane. My sister's address. The neighborhood looked quite calm. Children playing in the streets. Women cleaning there rugs, flirting with passing working man. Three knocks later, Celeste opened the door. She hadn't changed much in four years. She was a nurse in the War. She went to France to serve and met her now husband there. James Wilson. I never met him but feels as if I know him from the non ending description Celeste would right.

"Do not just stand there like a stranger, sister."

She takes me in her arms. It feels like home. I don't even realise that I am crying until she brushes my tears off my cheeks with her thumb.

"You're home, you're alright."

I nod, not sure that my voice would follow.

"I've heard so much about you, it's a pleasure to finally meet you"

Behind Celeste stands a tall man with kind eyes. Kind eyes are important in a man, my mother would always say. Kind eyes but strong arms, to fight when needed. James seemed to check all the boxes. Kind eyes but broad shoulders and strong hands.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you," I said. "And thank you so much for opening your home to me"

"Nonsense, you are family, this is your home." he replied.

Celeste closed the door behind me. The first room was a cosy living room with a roaring fire. In the corner, there was a gramophone playing some kind of jazz. Just beside this room, I could see a small kitchen and just between, a stair going up to the second floor.

"We prepared the spare room for you, I know you would love a quick nap." Celeste said. " James built you a desk. I told him how much you love to wright and sing and he jumped onto it. Isn't that right, James?"

I looked at him.

"It wasn't too much trouble. I just wanted you to be as comfortable as you could… Considering everything."

I smiled at him and he smiled back. There was a moment of silence.

"We bought a piano not long ago!"

Celeste guided me to the living room. The instrument was situated just in front of the window. It wasn't a new thing but I immediately loved it. It showed character and strength.

"We thought you could play from time to time. Maybe even compose something? Like before."

I do not reply. I can't, my throat is dry and so tight. I go to the piano and touch the old wood. My heart squeezes. Jonah loved piano. He would always make me sit beside him while he played. Would show me how to play.

I looked back at them and cleared my throat.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

Celeste and James smiles.

"Honey, why don't you show her her room? I need to head back to the shop. I'll see you later."

He kisses her on the forehead. I look away.

"I'll see you later" he tells me.

I nod and he leaves. Celeste and I look at each other.

"He seems really kind." I say.

She just smiles and I can see how happy she is.

"Come, I'll show you your room."

Later that night, after dinner, I sit on my bed and look at my room. It's simple, a bed, a dresser and a desk. The room is painted an earthy green with light cream curtains dressing the small window. I look at my suitcase and sigh. I can hear Celeste and James murmuring in their bedroom. My heart sink in my stomach and I grind my teeth to stop myself from crying but I can't hold them back. I haven't been able to for quite some time now. And so I fall asleep crying and swearing to myself that tomorrow will be better.

In the morning, I wake up with the sun. My body can't sleep more than a few hours and so I have the habit of waking up with the sun and start an early day. I made breakfast for the three of us and leave their portion on the table before leaving the house with my notebook and a pencil in my purse. The morning air is crisp and it clears my head. I hear some keys jingling not far and look where the sound comes from. Two houses on the left I see a man with a newsboy cap. He wears a three piece suit that looks quite expensive. A cigarette is hanging on his lips and he seems to struggle to open his door. All of a sudden he looks up directly in my eyes. I jump surprised of his intense stare. I avoid my eyes not wanting to get in trouble from being caught staring. I start walking towards the bakery I saw while coming here. I can still feel his stare on me and I feel a nervous sweat on my forehead. I can't help myself from looking back and he is staring at me. I can't decide if his stare is hostile or not but finally he opens his door and gets in. Well, that was something.

When I get to the bakery, there are a few customers in and I am surprised because it is quite early. A hush land on the place and I feel the eyes on me. I stand in line to order and when it comes to me, the cashier, a smiling lady welcomes me.

"First time I've seen you here" She says still smiling. "You must be Celeste's sister! She told me you were moving with her yesterday."

"Hum… yes." I say thrown off by her high energy.

"Well welcome to Small Heath! It's not much but I'm sure you'll like it here, once you get a sense of it it's not as bad as it seems."

I smile at her nodding my head. I'm not sure I like her.

"What can I get you on this fine morning?"

"Just a croissant please and some tea."

"Coming right up!"

She gets me my order and I pay for it.

"Enjoy!"

I thank her and go take a seat at the table nearest to the window. The tea is good and the pastry even better. I look out at people walking to go to work and get my notebook and pencil from my purse. I read the last poem I wrote. Not really good I must say. For some time now, my writing has been dry. Since Jonah actually. Jonah would always encourage me to write. He was one of the reasons for my writing.

I look out the window, trying to clear my mind and stare right in the eyes of this morning's stranger's eyes. His icy blue eyes piercing through my soul. I felt like he could see every thought, every feeling and every crevices of my soul. I didn't realise he was getting into the shop until I heard the cashier greet him.

"Good morning Mr Shelby."

Shelby. That rang in my mind… Shelby.

"A loaf of bread, Martha." He said without even greeting her.

I try not to listen in on their conversation, but my curiosity was peaked.

"Another early morning Mr Shelby?"

Shelby… it sounds familiar.

"Business never waits, Martha. I see you repaired the window. I hope Arthur came to apologise."

"Indeed he did and paid for the repairs also. Thank you Mr Shelby."

"Finn will come around to get the bread."

As he was turning around, I averted my eyes to my notebook and didn't realise he was coming right for my table.

"You are a very curious woman."

His voice was deep and sent shivers down my spine. I looked up at him and was struck by his features. High cheekbones, full lips and hooded eyes. He was handsome, but it couldn't get passed the dread in my guts.

I looked at him but didn't respond.

"It tends to get quite difficult for curious people around here."

His face was stoick and his eyes were the coldest I'd ever seen. He bent a little closer and whispered:

"I heard a man lost his eyes because of curiosity."

That's when I had a glimpse of the razor sewed in his cap. I understood the message but looked straight in his eyes and smiled. It didn't reach my eyes. He studied me a moment and straightened up. He pulled out a cigarette from a metal box and lit it. He walked towards the door and just before he exited he looked back at me and smiled. Before I could stop myself, I felt a blush rush through my cheeks.