Chapter three - Reality.
''I'm so sorry for this morning.'' Rose apologised; her lashes lowered. It had certainly taken minutes of thinking logically to determine just how one could act so irrationally. ''I just didn't know what else to do.'' The words fell from her mouth. ''I had to get out of the canteen. I felt as though everyone was looking at me and...'' She closed her eyes, feeling the pressure build in her head. The stress of the last few days was obviously sneaking up on her. These were things which she wasn't prepared for; girls like her didn't run away in the night. Thoughts whirled about her head. Who could be on the train who she knew? Men who had worked for her husband, those who had seen her face in the papers...
''Hey, calm down.'' Jack told her softly. ''It's all right, you don't have to apologise for anything.''
She smiled, grateful. ''Jack, I- I really don't know what to do with my life.''
Sitting forward, Jack listened intently to her words. He felt that she was about to reveal something more of herself.
Tears finally came down her face, and she quickly wiped them away feeling instantly awkward and self-conscious, she had never cried in front of another human being except her father. It was almost unheard of in her own world. To Cal, crying was a sign of weakness. Her weakness...which he played on to the extreme.
''Oh, Rose.''
Quickly, he took her hand in his and began to run his finger over it, and Rose was surprised by how much she was comforted by his touch. She raised her head so her eyes met his and saw the genuine look of concern on his face. She knew in that moment that she could trust him. He cared so openly. Everything which he had said to her so far, everything which he had done seemed to be so – real, so open and that was something which she had never experienced before. What was it about a strange man that potentially could be a danger to her that appealed to her so much?
''I trust you, Jack.'' She whispered, still taking hold of his hand. The train jolted suddenly sending Jack's bag flying onto the bench, tipping onto its side and a leather-bound portfolio landed almost in front of them. Rose caught sight of it and smiled, releasing Jack's hand from hers.
''May I?''
He nodded, once.
''Sure.''
Rose opened the leather-bound portfolio to the first page; it was a sketch, a drawing, it was of a mother breastfeeding her baby. Rose glanced upwards to Jack, stunned by the realness and beauty of the sketch, it was obviously a very private thing to see on a drawing but it was so real and right there in front of her which was something which was rarely seen. She was drawn into the picture as though she was a witness right there. A deep sigh steading her breathing as a memory of her own children came to her; the ones she had never gotten the chance to meet properly. Jack indicated for her to proceed looking through the sketches, sensing that this was something which made her uncomfortable. The next one was a small child in her mother's arms.
''These are brilliant, Jack.'' Rose said in amazement, never had she seen such a talent like his but it wasn't just his talent, it was the subjects of his art. These people were so real. He drew from life, from a place where no one else seemed to. His subjects weren't the common types, but rare and beautiful.
A small smile appeared on his face, as he watched Rose and her reaction to his drawings.
''Thanks, but they didn't think too much of them in Paris.''
Rose raised her eyebrows.
''Paris? But why, they're very good.''
Shrugging, Jack picked up some which were sprawled on the floor; they were several nudes. Rose watched as Jack picked up the drawings and he placed them inside of the portfolio, she saw they were of delicate natures and almost didn't know where to place her eyes but her curiosity caught the better of her.
''Oh...oh.'' She stuttered, turning one landscape so she could see it properly. She studied the woman in the picture; laid out naked, so openly beautiful and yet fragile.
''And you drew her from life? She was laid in front of you?'' she asked, in a tone of voice which did very little to disguise her slight jealousy.
Jack nodded, running his fingers through his hair. Raising her eyebrows, Rose ran her fingers over the paper examining the sketch. She was undeniably beautiful and she couldn't help but think maybe Jack had enjoyed a love affair with her.
''She is beautiful.'' Rose pointed out. ''You know Jack; I think you must be in love with her.'' She teased but Jack shook his head.
''No, no. She's just a lovely subject. As was Rebecca.'' Jack touched Rose's hand and turned the sketch over to another nude who was just as beautiful as the one before. Rose felt a little awkward looking at these drawings, she cleared her throat and Jack glanced at her almost sensing her awkwardness. His eyes questioned her for just a moment and he realised that his hand was lingering atop hers once more.
''Oh there's this lady.'' He remembered, turning the page again to a lady sat on a bar stool wearing moth eaten clothes and wearing a lot of jewellery.
''She used to sit in this bar in Paris every night, wearing every piece of jewellery she owns just waiting for her long-lost love.'' He shook his head and Rose studied the drawing, the woman looked melancholy and Rose could almost sympathise with her. The way Jack had captured her was amazing; it was like looking at a photograph. Every single line on the page captured the mood of the lady. ''Madam Bijoux is her name, see her clothing is all moth eaten.'' Jack pointed and Rose nodded, shaking her head.
''Well Jack, you have a gift. You really do.'' Rose could feel Jack's hand still on hers from when he had turned the pages of the portfolio and it seemed all of her senses heightened, she could feel his warmth sitting beside her and their faces were a mere few inches apart.
''I see you.'' He almost whispered and Rose smiled slightly.
''And...'' She glanced just once at his lips and her heart beat so fast, slowly he seemed to be leaning towards her closer and closer. How had she gotten into this situation, but she was going to go with it. He didn't kiss her lips; he simply stayed close to her lingering there for a few minutes before pulling away. It wasn't that he wanted to pull away; he simply didn't know how she would react. She was a fragile being, so obviously haunted by something she was running away from. He never did finish the sentence.
A tiny whimper should have come from the crib. A fisted hand should wave in the air slowly. Through the dark heavy curtains, dawn was breaking. She could just about see the sun through the window. Her heart should be filled with love, but instead she felt empty and dark. The new dawn should have been a new beginning but instead she felt loss. She cradled her stomach where the baby had once been. Now, there was nothing left. Her husband who should have been her source of comfort simply watched her fall apart in front of him as he emptied yet another bottle of liquor. She whimpered as he moved, startled like a cat. Yes, she was frightened of him. She wondered if this was his grief or if he was angry. Seething. She had failed him as a wife once again, this time it had been a son. A tiny boy with beautiful fingers and toes, so soft to touch and she had held him for not even a minute before Cal had ordered the boy to be 'disposed of.' It wasn't his son; it was yet another dead child. He slammed his fist into the dresser, causing her to shiver...to shake uncontrollably. She wasn't allowed to grief for her son...she knew what was coming...
Rose had fallen asleep soon after, she rested on his body. Not even twenty-four hours they had known each other. He didn't move, he daren't move, not wishing to disturb her. She slept for around half an hour when the murmurs started again, the images which haunted her sleep night after night and Jack longed to know what they were. He peeked from the corner of his eye; he could just see the top of her head. Those copper curls, and then he leaned forward. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept. He had just noticed how creamy her skin was in the afternoon light of the carriage which streamed through the dirty window. Who was she? What was she running away from?
Her body jumped as another moan escaped her lips. Gently, he shook her arm not wishing to startle her but needing to bring her around slowly. He didn't wish to see her succumb to these dreams again; he didn't want her to be haunted by them.
''Rose.'' He whispered.
Her eyes flickered open; they met his in yet another intense moment. There was something between them; they could both feel it and neither of them knew what it was. She was aware of the murmurs in her sleep; the violent ways which her husband tortured her in the dreams and she wondered if Jack knew just how bad it was. These things which she was running away from. Would they follow her? She tried to escape from them so badly. She needed to exorcise the demons.
She slowly moved away from Jack, placing her hands on the table and wringing them, she placed her hand flat onto the paper in front of her. It was a drawing, some lines here and there. She assumed he had abandoned his work. She thought back to his drawings; he had such talent. She had seen a lot of art in her time and had been lucky enough to own several pieces back home but none of them quite spoke to her the ways Jack's work did. She needed to break away the thoughts of those dreams once more...
''Where did you study?'' She broke the silence, still touching his paper. A piece of charcoal moving about as the train moved on the rickety tracks.
''I didn't.'' He ran his fingers through his hair, exposing his face even more. ''My parents died some years ago, I have drawn for as long as I can remember. My folks could never afford tuition fees.''
He really was talented. All of her education had been a waste of time and effort. She had no raw talent like he did; she could barely complete a household task.
''Are you married?''
''No. I have spent twelve years roaming the world alone. Loneliness has made me a little bitter, especially after the war.''
She seemed to see him with a fresh pair of eyes. He was just as lonely as she was. He had fought in the war, a war which she had vaguely read about in newspapers which her husband allowed her to read once in a while, she had snuck into his study on more than one occasion to read snippets. The death toll, the horror stories from the trenches and the beautiful places which were now destroyed. Her husband had avoided the army, narrowly. She had thought him a coward, there was a place for him to show some bravery and fight not just for his country but for the sake of his family. She would never know how he avoided the conscription.
''I would love to be like you Jack, just head out for the horizon. To never settle.''
''To never settle or just run?''
She turned to him, surprised. ''Excuse me?''
''Would you call it never settling in one place or is it just running away?''
He was direct and to the point. She felt the air stay in her lungs as she struggled to get her words out. ''You are been very rude.''
Jack reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tin of cigarettes just like the night before but this time they were already rolled and he placed one between his lips. Something which distracted her. She watched as he expertly struck a match before taking the first puff. ''It's a simple question, Rose.''
She hung her head, knowing he could almost see right through her. It was unnerving.
''Both.''
''I know you are running from something and I would like to know what.''
Rose gazed out of the window; she didn't know what town she was in. She didn't know how long was left before she reached California. She didn't know what to do about anything. ''You do not want to know.''
''How did you grow up?''
''There is nothing to tell.'' She turned her head away from him, gazing out of the window so lost in the outside world. She longed to lose herself. In something.
''Where were you born?''
''The place I left yesterday.''
''And are you married?''
''Yes.''
It knocked the wind from him. Everything settled into place then. She was leaving her husband. He watched as she placed her face in the palms of her hands, her hair fell around her. Her body shook, wracked with sobs. In the space of ten seconds, she became a shadow of her former self. Gone was the smile, the beautiful face which he had seen earlier that day.
She couldn't escape the train; she couldn't run from Jack but she sure as hell would try. She grabbed her skirts and shuffled her way to the edge of the bench. She reached for the door handle and pulled it as hard as she could first with one hand and then the other, it rattled but it was no use. It was locked. Of course, she knew it was locked.
Jack was already on his feet, ready to race after her, just as he did that morning.
''Stop running.'' He urged. She buried her face in her hands as she stood; she rested her forehead against the glass and sobbed.
''I have to run.'' She made a fist with her left hand, digging her nails so hard into her palms she thought it would bleed. ''I have to run, I refuse to go back. I will not give in!''
Jack reached his left hand and grabbed hers, un-fisting her hand as much as she struggled. ''You don't have to go back, just don't run from me.''
She removed her hand from her face, her eyes more green from her tears. Her hair was dishevelled around her face yet each curl framed it perfectly. Jack fought the urge to move a tendril; instead he gripped her hand tighter to distract them both from another intense moment. He felt so much need to know her, to understand her and he couldn't fight those feelings. They were so strong he couldn't believe. Perhaps if his questions about her were answered then maybe it would dampen his curiosity about her.
Silence fell between them for a few moments. He wondered what could really have happened to this girl to want to make her want to leave her old life so bad, what haunted her so. She was obviously from an upper-class upbringing and from what he had heard, those with money didn't live too badly.
''I want to make you see something.'' He urged. She eyed him sharply. ''Trust me?'' He added, in which case, she seemed to soften a little more.
Her breathing was rapid, her heart pounding from adrenaline and everything which had built up within her. ''Please sit down.''
Slowly, she let go of his hand. She found her way back to the bench and sat shaking. She was cold, exhausted both physically and mentally. Jack quickly removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, she pulled it around her neck and caught his scent, it was clean and lovely.
''Why did you run away?'' He asked. It was a simple question.