Chapter 40

29th of June 1925 (Monday)

Monday morning. Two days passed since.

Two days that could have very well be spent in a far off land. Somewhere where everything was covered by floating veils of fog. Where she could see no landscape but just lines and forms. Where the people who went by were more like shadows, and she could hear their words as if they existed already in the ether. Because she just heard them without seeing any lips moving. But she couldn't really catch everything. Only words here and there. It made brows raised, she could see their baffled stares. So she made up the rest. The missed words. Trying to disguise her awkward predicament.

She had landed herself in dreamland.

Where only a few things dominated. In her case, it was the silver moonlight she saw last inside his eyes before he... She had lost count how many times she had touched her lips over those two days. Part of her had stayed on the front steps of her house and the rest of her continued as normal. Whatever normal was under those circumstances.

She hadn't seen him since. It was as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth. However that wasn't completely true as the invitation for the Hamlet premiere found her when she had entered her house upon her return on Sunday evening from the hospital. Who ever brought it, had thrown it through the letter box and it lay there on the floor. It stared back to her, that cream coloured envelope with her name in calligraphy at the front.

For Miss Rose C. White

It was handwritten, by him? Perhaps. Most likely. Given that the initial of her real name was included. The kiss belonged to Candy, not Rose. He was making it clear for her to see. For the time he was there, all the while what he was trying to do was to pull her, Candy, out from the past, and into the presence. Not to have her substitute, Rose, but her. It bothered her a little if she gave it more thought. She had come to love her life in London, Christian had made her love herself as Rose. She was unsure whether she wanted to give space to Candy in her life.

She had tried her damnest to keep herself occupied for those two days. And her affection towards Christian grew tenfold. She used her feelings she had for him to hold herself afloat in a sea of guilt and contradiction.

He hadn't complained for the extended time she spent with him - especially when Archie came to see him, out of courtesy. Nor had he minded her fussing, her doe eyes and her lovey-dovey ways. It had been a nice distraction for him too and he loved having her around. The worry whether MacDonald's men would show up was getting further away, though he had been itching to leave that hospital room.

The only cloud had been a slight persistent fever he had raised on Sunday evening. It could be due to having practically all London's art world parade from his room during the day. So much so, the head of the hospital had to put his foot down and actually remind everyone that this was a hospital.

For precaution, Dr. Hart decided to keep Christian one more day and discharge him on Tuesday, should the fever recede on Monday, today that is. Christian hadn't liked the news. It had almost felt like punishment given the tone on the doctor's voice when he told him that perhaps he should have taken it easy rather than having his room full of people laughing and chattering as if they were at any old pub.

Rose had agreed with Dr. Hart, although she had been grateful too for all the distraction she got. The fever she worried about, but till she had left him late on Sunday evening once patient visitation hours were over, it hadn't increased, so she too was putting tiredness more than anything else as the cause. Having been left the two of them at last in the room, her goodnight kiss had been extra fervent and had sparked desire inside Christian's eyes.

"I should be stabbed more often" he had said to her with a hoarse voice, "if I get to be kissed by my woman that way..." His grey eyes had dived inside hers and his stare had been warm and smiling but nervousness had risen inside hers. She had protested as soon as he said it.

"Am I not passionate enough on a normal day?"

He had acted as if giving it a thought and had admitted "Yes...when there's some alcohol in you..."

He had been teasing her but she nearly had choked on his remark. It was ridiculous to feel that way.

So what if it was one kiss?

"What the heck do you mean?" She raised the tone of her voice. Her face had felt hot. "That I'm an easy woman when drunk?"

His thumb stroking her cheek. Had she been "easy" with him last night?

She had stood up, folded her arms on her chest, while still looking at Christian. He had turned confused. "What brought that one love?" He had asked her. "You're putting words in my mouth..."

His breath on her lips.

"I'm sorry my love..." She had said and had felt like choking. "It's been an intense weekend." He had searched inside her eyes. They sparkled like grass after summer rain.

"I love you..." He had whispered to her when her forehead touched his, his thumb rubbing her lips, opening them just. "I want you whichever way you kiss me..." Had been his last words before kissing her a slow kiss full of want. Her confidence in him had been shaken after he had asked her to break up with him, without giving her any good enough reason for such an ask from his part.

The nurse had come in, and that gave an end to their kissing.

Royal Haymarket Theatre

Monday midday and there was a controlled chaos inside Haymarket theatre. The stage had been set despite the stage manager looking like he was on the edge of a breakdown. The curtains weren't hanging right and what was it with all that light on the stage?

"We're opening for Hamlet people! Not Vaudeville!"

"Sombre tones! Are the torches ready to light up?"

Assistants of all kinds were trailing their bosses around looking like overexcited bunnies. The head of the props was going once more over the list:

10 swords - check,

5 knives - check,

2 crowns - che...

"Where is Hamlet's crown?!"

"Mr. Barrymore has it in the dressing room, sir." One of those overexcited bunnies rushed to share the information to avoid possible meltdowns.

Terry, despite the activity which bubbled as effervescent as water does in a pot over the stove, had occupied a seat at the stalls and was observing the going ons around him with a stillness Robert Hathaway hadn't seen before in the young man.

He had been like that since Sunday morning. Quieter than usual, but mellow looking at the same time. Same attitude, confirming that nothing is wrong but then nothing was normal on him either.

Robert sat next to Terry and looked at the stage, while throwing him side glances every now and then. The dress rehearsal was about to start. Terry being the understudy of John's Hamlet, was dressed and was in full make up too. Not that he expected anything to go wrong but that was the procedure. However for the premiere in the evening, after a lengthy discussion, it had been agreed with Robert and John on letting Terry join the audience and watch the performance with the people he had acquired tickets for.

The lights dimmed. Dressed from head to toe in black, having his turquoise eyes painted with black kohl, Terry looked menacing. Robert had wished for him to play Hamlet in London, but events hadn't let him do that. John Barrymore was a God among actors, a legend for theatre-goers and his Hamlet was going to be a sure-fire hit. Still...

Robert glanced once more towards Terry's way. He hadn't uttered a word.

"Is all ok Terrence?" He asked him in quiet. The curtain had been drawn. The dress rehearsal was about to start. Terry hadn't drawn his eyes from the stage.

"Everything's peachy, Robert." He heard Terry's voice sounding as calm as the breezeless sea. Robert hadn't responded, hadn't even taken his eyes off Terry's profile in the dark. He found it difficult to believe him the way he was acting. His heart jolted once Terry's intense stare turned and nailed him straight on the eyes.

"For the last time...I'm fine." He whispered between his teeth to his boss. The curtains were drawn. Elsinore castle loomed under the lit heavy torchlights. You could smell them burning while the fire crackles were travelling inside the theatre. There were footsteps on the stage.

"Francisco was at his post while Bernardo enters.

BERNARDO
Who's there?

FRANCISCO
Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself."

Terry turned his face back to the stage. A moment later, his body leaned towards Robert.

"Don't take this as an insult, but I don't need a babysitter. I can handle myself just fine, boss." He whispered again. "And please convey that to my dear mother next time you report back to her."

"And tell her...Candy is fine too..." He had added before he straightened his body and let it fall back on the chair, finally able to enjoy the performance. Robert's brows jumped up and hit the roof to the sound of Candy's name. He turned one last time towards him. Terry had gone back to his silent mode, eyes fixed in front, looking at the stage. There was a faint smirk painted across his lips. He knew his mother. She kept her distance but in reality, she could bust a gut to find out what was happening in his life. He wondered how long she could hold herself before she would ask for details. Not that he would give any, but he thought it amusing to give her a couple of sleepless nights over the state of his love life. He was certain she would call him a sadist and he wouldn't deny it. Served her right for appointing Robert as her secret agent across the Atlantic.

He tried to focus on the play.

"FRANCISCO
For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart."

Sick at heart...Saturday night had slipped through the cracks of the drawn curtains in his hotel suite. When he had arrived there, he wanted to punch the walls. How had it let this happen?

It didn't matter though the frustration he felt - every way he looked at this, kissing her had been inevitable. Till he actually undressed and fell on the bed, he had spent the time lying on the couch with his eyes drilling holes on the ceiling, watching the rings of smoke disperse into thin air. Even when he finally hit the pillow, sleep was giving him the cold shoulder. Instead, he lay there, with both arms slipped behind his neck, one leg over the other and kept staring at the piece of dark sky that was peering from the crack on the curtains.

By the time the darkness outside faded away and turned into faint light with shots of pink and violet, all thoughts had melted away but one. His eyelids slowly descended over his eyes and he relieved the kiss savouring its every second, playing it frame by frame, taking his time over it, till he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Truth to be told, he didn't know what lay ahead for him and Candy and in the end, he decided not to analyse in his mind this "incident" between them. It was what it was. Subconsciously he was downplaying it, because otherwise he risked a lot with his tendency to ruin everything when he let his impulses take the reins of him.

"BERNARDO
Last night of all, When yond same star that's westward from the pole Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,

The bell then beating one,-

The Ghost enters the scene."

He had let most of Sunday pass. He was busy enough with the theatre. He should have been exhausted but he run on pure adrenaline the whole day. He wondered almost to the point of excess what was she doing. How had she passed the night? Was it as tormented but sweet as his? Her reaction hadn't surprised him. At least there was no slap. It was ironic to think that they once loved each other so much it ached but there was only one kiss between them. Before he put his foot in London, carrying still the hopes that they could carry from where they had left off, he had promised to himself to kiss her as often as possible.

He had decided not to see her on that day. Even if it made it almost impossible for him to concentrate. He cut almost all communication with everyone apart from the essential and he carried on with his tasks in almost an automaton fashion, his body being there but his mind not. He knew he raised eyebrows and attracted stares, gossip. He carried on regardless.

In the evening, on his way to the hotel, he passed by her house. He parked and for a moment he saw their ghosts in front of her door, him leaning over her...He knew she would be at the hospital. Christian must had been fine. He did think that perhaps he would be wondering where that annoying expat who has glued himself to them, has disappeared. Perhaps, it was good that he kept himself away. What happened the night before had created ripples in their lives he wasn't able to know what their effect would be. Best approach according to him was to not muddle the waters any more than he should.

He took from his suit pocket an invitation for the play. He had her name written on it.

Miss Rose C White...

She might had been Rose for everyone else but she was Candy only for him...

Since the time of him throwing through the letterbox her invitation for the theatre till the dress rehearsal started he had decided to drop all thoughts and let them wither at the back of his mind. The only thing he allowed to remain was the feel of her lips on his. He may as well get burned by it, he didn't care.

Monday 5pm

Compton Avenue, Highgate

With hurried steps, she closed the door of the bedroom. She turned and stood in the middle of it.

"Do I look alright?" She sounded anxious.

The afternoon summer sun flooded inside the room. Its light hit the crystal beads of her silver dress sending rainbow shards all across the colourful intricate mimosas and lilacs hand-painted on the antique 18th century Chinese wallpaper on the walls.

The several dresses which had been thrown in various places, alongside the pairs of evening shoes which had been left strewn all over the floor added to the bohemian style of Marion's bedroom. Exquisite silk scarves spread, covering a hickory chaise longue place by the window. Others had been thrown, half covering the mirror on her dressing table. A veritable collection of perfume bottles, lipsticks and other make up tools were spread on it. Other curiosities collected from travels in exotic places were also in display. A big colourful, paper, Chinese umbrella was hung open from the wall hiding one of the side table lamps, whilst an impressive in size, black onyx panther with piercing eyes, posing like a cat in attention stood next to the big walnut wardrobe which had both doors opened, revealing a collection of the most beautiful gowns a girl could desire.

"Oh! Darling, you look stunning!" The other woman said while stretching her legs while lying on the four poster bed. She took a sip from the champagne in her glass, left it on the table and jumped on her feet. Took her friend by the waist and turned her around in a mock dance move.

"I'm sure your actor will go crazy..." She said while that dance move left both girls laughing.

Marion turned to see her reflection on the upright mirror. Her dress was indeed impressive on its own. Low cut and daring, with very much exposed both the chest and her back, she marvelled looking at her silk like skin and her collarbones sticking under it. She really took care of her eating leading to the premiere, wanting to look her best. The dress had been decorated with very fine, intricate stitching, of silver and crystal beads. A big flower made out of cream-coloured tulle adorned her left hip. She certainly would turn heads, no doubt about it. Her stomach twisted with excitement just by thinking of her with Terry.

"Will he, Audrey? He's so difficult to read!" She voiced her doubts once more and poured herself one more glass of champagne.

"Pish-tosh sweetheart!" Her friend dismissed Marion's words.

Audrey Perkins, daughter of Violet and Stanley Perkins who was one of the main stockholders of the famous Barclay Perkins brewery had been Marion's best friend since primary school. Being tall and athletic with flame red hair and green eyes, singled her out from the rest of the girls. She had been very much a tomboy back at that day, and in fact she shared a lot of similarities with Candy. And it was no wonder really that she was the one who had introduced Candy as Rose White, to the rest of her crowd. They had met at the Good Samaritans, she being also a volunteer there. Quite taken by this friendly, overeager to help and quite funny American girl, she had decided early on to bring her to her circle of friends. Everyone had liked Rose almost from the first moment. She seemed such a good sport about everything and her demeanour made everyone to trust her even from their first encounters.

Candy felt grateful for getting to know such a group of young people who enjoyed life and took every day as it came. In the past, she wouldn't have time for such frivolities as she used to call them when she dismissed Pony's suggestions to go out and enjoy life a little as a young woman should. Her way of forgetting Terry was through hard and constant work. Her aim had been to tire herself so that by the time her face hit the pillow, she was almost in a comatose state. She hadn't minded the years passing, since she had been doing something so worthwhile. What she came to realise when she lost Albert, the man whom she considered her family, was that she had also forgotten how to live, in the process of trying to erase Terry from her mind too. Even to that, she had failed miserably, and the stash of newspaper clippings with his name on it hidden inside a secret box of hers, had kept growing.

When she moved to London, the night she had met Audrey Perkins, Rose White closed Candy and her past life inside the same box.

There was a knock on the door. Mario's mother entered.

"Marion sweetheart..." Elizabeth Lewis looked unsettled in a way people look when something unexpected has happened that could be bad but don't know how bad till they find out for themselves. In the meantime, whatever plans they had, they have to cancel. And that's what followed with Marion's mother.

"We had a phone call from your aunt Cecilia." She said and pressed her lips. She too had been half dressed for the Hamlet premiere. "Your uncle Arthur isn't well apparently..."

Arthur Lewis was papa's older brother by a couple of years, and a very dear uncle to Marion. She looked stunned. But more so, it was as if the air left her lungs and her face, because her shoulders dropped alongside the corners of her smiling lips, while her eyes didn't want to accept what she had just heard, the way all the excitement they bore just minutes ago was draining as fast as the rain water flowed down the gutters. She loved her uncle to bits but...but...the theatre premiere?

"What's wrong with him?" She asked with almost no breath left in her.

"He collapsed as Cecilia told me, feeling rather tight over the chest and she feared for his heart." Her mother said, while her eyes travelled through the disorder in Marion's room, with a look of disapproval.

"Honestly Marion, this room doesn't belong to a young lady of refined upbringing...!" She stopped for a moment communicating the news about Marion's uncle and seemed to be more absorbed about her daughter's lack of ability to keep her room tidy.

"Mama! Can we leave my room for a moment out of this?" Marion asked her impatiently, and glanced to Audrey who had started reading a magazine she had left by the side table.

"Don't mind me..." She said behind the open pages.

"They called the doctor and he seems he is fine..." She continued, resigning of her attempt to reprimand her daughter's unladylike bedroom state. "But he should stop drinking so much."

It was true. Uncle Arthur could drink anyone under the table and over the table if so he wished. His fondness for wine and whiskey seemed unquenchable, finding excuses to have "a tipple at least" whenever. But he was never a violent drunk. With the deep red puffed up cheeks and the roaring laughter, he was resembling more of Santa Claus than a mean drunk. And everyone loved him for this extrovert side of his. He preferred to drink with company always. Aunt Cecilia of course complained all the time about his ways, worrying constantly about his health. Here it came, in the end, she was right.

"Your aunt of course is badly shaken. And very angry to your uncle as you can imagine."

"Oh! Poor Arthur! He'll have the drinking police over his head now!" Both mother and daughter heard Audrey cackle, hiding behind the magazine.

"Audrey!" Audrey's mother commended, "It is not a laughing matter!"

"I am sorry Mrs. Lewis." She apologised, dragging her words while she revealed her face behind the magazine, while her Marion's eyes laughed by Audrey's mischievous manners, "It is rather funny though, if you see it from a certain angle..."

"You youngsters see everything from a funny angle and life isn't that at all!" Her mother continued her scolding.

"So what happens now mama?" Marion stopped this descending into a lecture about manners and life angles.

Marion's mother looked at her daughter quiet for a moment, while Marion's heart was palpitating inside her ribcage. A little bit more silence from dear mama and she would have the heart attack instead.

"Unfortunately, we won't go at the premiere." She said, "Your father and I will be going to your aunt's and uncle's tonight to spend time together, seen how shaken they both are."

Marion's breath stood waiting at her lips. "But knowing you talked about this premiere non stop for days now...you can go with Rose and..."

"The actor..." Audrey commended, keeping the chuckling within her throat.

"Terrence!"Marion exclaimed, her cheeks and face feeling on fire.

"Him! That's right!" Her mother said, bringing him in her mind, "Fine young man." She added.

"He is!" Marion raised her voice even more, wanting to jump in the air with excitement, having forgotten about poor uncle Arthur's predicament.

"But...you come home straight afterwards."

Her mother's voice turned strict. And when she did, Elizabeth wasn't a mother Marion wanted to mess up with.

"Oh come on!" Marion protested. "Audrey, say something!" She prompted her friend too to take part in this.

"I won't hear a word." Her mother tried to cut any complaints from the bud. "With everything that happened over the last few days...poor Christian in the hospital stabbed."

Marion didn't say anything. She realised where this was going. Her parents wouldn't have their daughter out late at night when stabbings can happen even at their neighbourhood. Next door even. That was unheard of.

"But it still heavily policed around here." Marion said.

"We don't care your father and I." She really wasn't barging. "Terrence will bring you home and that's that."

The two friends exchanged frantic glances between them. Marion suppressed a cough.

"And what if you haven't been back home till then?" Marion asked, feeling like a spider weaving her web. "Letting me on my own at an empty house..."

She had cornered her mother and she tried very hard not to smile with her victory. "Terrence should stay with me till you are back." Marion said.

"We'll make sure to be at home when you arrive." Her mother tried to remedy her mistake.

"But if you aren't?"

"I expect then Terrence to keep you company and only that." She said, turning red on the face.

"Great!" Marion exclaimed. The elation she felt inside were enough to send her to the moon and back. A whole evening with the man who had stolen her dreams for nights on end. She jumped and kissed her mother.

"Please give my apologies to uncle Arthur!" She added in a hurry, hiding her excitement behind a thin veil of descending seriousness in her eyes, "I'll pass by tomorrow to see him and aunt Cecilia."

Audrey's sudden roaring laughter behind the pages of the magazine where she had hidden her face again made both Marion and her mother to turn towards her.

"My apologies for disturbing a mother-daughter moment." She excused herself, still laughing, "This magazine article is completely hilarious." She added and winked to her friend before her mother could spot her.

Monday 5.30pm

11-12 North Audley Street, Mayfair

It was about a week that Archie had moved to one of the most prestigious addresses of uptown London. He just could not stay at the hotel any more. Especially when he tried as much as he could to keep his relationship with Isabel under wraps. She could not come and go as she pleased at the Savoy, the staff would start talking, if they hadn't started already, he had thought. Nor he could spend time in her apartment. A man spending nights on end at a single woman's place? Neighbours were worse than the staff of the Savoy.

The times his wife had phoned when it was midnight at Chicago weren't rare. The opposite in fact. It was forming into a habit of hers to wanting to say goodnight to Archie, even if for him it had been six in the morning. Some of those times, he thought he heard Isabel sigh while half asleep by his side. He felt a bastard when he put his foot down and asked her not to phone him so early in the morning, while he knew the hurt on the other side of the line and the hand that was gripping the receiver tighter, controlling the tears.

The town house he rented was grandiose to say the least. Both Rose and Isabel, when he took them into a tour of the place, they had been impressed to say was the right word? Definitely taken aback. "You sure didn't spare any expense Arch!" his cousin had exclaimed.

Archie however had been used to such wealth. He had been born in it, and whether he liked it or not, he had a pretty good head for business. This business acumen of his, had put the European branch of the Ardley business in London on a good foot. Given that the expense of this residence actually was less than living at one of the top suites in the Savoy, it made sense for him to move there. And he could use this house for business too, dinners with potential partners, entertainment evenings.

He looked at the standing mirror in the master bedroom. From a young age, and this was a unanimous opinion from the family members - one that had been the butt of a lot of his beloved brother's jokes - Archie had been blessed with the looks of Adonis. As much as Alistair, his brother, was obsessed with everything mechanical, who if he hadn't died in the Great War, would have become a great inventor - Archibald on the other hand had been his mother's favourite boy, a live doll for her to dress and interact with. Her friends would swoon over this golden haired boy with the deep blue sky eyes and the red cherry lips, dressed with the latest fashions, having the best manners, growing up into a very charming young man. It was no surprise, Annie had been so taken by him. All the girls had been the same when they met him. All, apart from Candy. His heart had belonged to her for years on end. But he always had been a friend to her and after the adoption into the Ardley family, her cousin. Nothing more, nothing less. She had made it painfully clear one evening he never forgot. That same evening when she crashed his hopes by saying to him she was in love with Terry and he should look at poor Annie who suffered, trying to attract his attention.

He should have never yielded that night. He run to find Annie who had disappeared, distraught, the man of her affections hadn't been interested in her. He should have stood firm. He never had loved Annie. Her face though when he had found her...wet from her tears, the pain that floated in them. Archie, he may had the looks of an angel, he also had the heart to match. He strived to please. His mother, his father, the family, friends, Candy and in the end...Annie. All his life had been mapped by him following the wishes of others. Up till he met Isabel. The woman who not only was unimpressed by his eagerness to please, but had found it even annoying. She had made it clear, she was attracted by a man who knew his mind and what he wanted to do in life. Just like herself. She had entered his life like a summer storm. With her passing, she made everything feel full of life. He had fallen head over heels for her dynamism and feistiness, her ability to speak her mind, without regarding consequences. Their fights had been explosive and they had been a few over the time he had been in London and their making up was even more consuming.

He looked better than ever before. There was fire in his gaze. Life in his stride. Passion in his words. Even Candy had mentioned that London's air had done wonders for him. Although she too knew the real reason for his change. She was just too discreet to say it out loud. Not to mention that Annie had been her long standing friend, her "sister" since the years at the orphanage. True, they had grown apart since Candy upped one fine morning and left for the UK, chasing another life from the quiet one she had built for herself at La Porta, Indiana.

Dressed on his best tuxedo, he left the bedroom and went into the living room. He had to leave the place soon to pick up Isabel from her apartment. A lot of times they had argued about her staying with him. He wanted her with him. He wanted her full stop. What if he would hire her as his personal assistant? She could live in the mansion. But she was adamant. She had her business to run, which had been going well, having only recently started. She wasn't going to just chuck away all her efforts just to become his personal assistant so she could be with him at all times. Despite showing him, that his feelings had been matched in every single way with hers. In all honesty, she was the one that had gone on a limb in this relationship. He had a wife and a life to return too at the end of this. She on the other hand...was giving her heart knowing that there was an expiration date. But what would life be if we were living with a heart closed in a cage? That was her way of looking at things.

In a moment of madness, he had proposed to her. "Lets go for a month in France." He said to her, "Where no one knows us." She had smiled. "Live like husband and wife...together all the twenty four hours of the day, every day." He added and felt his heart racing in his chest. The moment she agreed, he kissed like he had never kissed her before. And she had turned into clay under the touch of his hands.

Everything had been in place then. The business. Annie...He had found an excuse that he would have to tour France for sourcing authentic French products he could export to the States. There had been a demand for them, that much he knew. And in parts, that was true. His business mind was always switched on, if an opportunity happened to threw itself in front of him. Communication would have to be scarce however. Not everywhere he would go, there would be a phone for him to call. Even if he had to clench his jaw when the tears started pouring from the other side of the line, he had been determined. Together with this new found determination, another thought had started dawning in his mind. It carried pain but it carried honesty and truth in equal measures. That was the thought of asking Annie for a divorce when he would return back to the States.

For the present however, with the date of departure to France being firmly on the calendar, that being the Friday coming, the other matter that had occupying his mind was his cousin's love life. In particular Christian and Terry. For different reasons. Christian, he never trusted. Even if the evidence pointed to the fact he had fought some burglar or burglars, even the name of the Raven had been thrown in the mix, unknown whether the infamous thief was a man or a woman, in any case, Archie thought there was something else going on. Perhaps he had seen too many detective films on the motion pictures - his brother would have loved the mechanics behind films - there was an unshakable suspicion inside him, that somehow Christian was connected to all that. He looked social enough but then again very private. Had Archie seen any close friends of Christian? Not really. Only acquaintances and people frequenting the space around artists, dealers, rich patrons but not friends. The only other person who Archie knew was as devoid of actual friends was Terry. With whom at the moment he had a bone to pick. Terry being his usual obnoxious self, had offended him outside the hospital. In the past, he had been used to Terry's insults - they would end up in fist fights and be done with it. This time, they were adults and up till that point, he had been quite agreeable. Likeable even. Then he flipped, and it threw Archie back to the day, when every other word that came out of Terry's mouth having been an insult thrown to his face. Archie would have loved to have his fists landing on Terry's face but they weren't teenagers any more. And they were in a public place, a hospital. Candy's beau having been stabbed. Still it bothered him. To the point he had hired a private detective to watch Christian's moves. He had to come to the bottom of what secret Christian was sitting on. Once he was to leave hospital...Archie's man would be there. In fact he was to start surveillance from that day, but doctors had kept him for another night due to a fever. Not being a man to leave everything to chance, since everyone was to be at the premiere, he had instructed the detective to keep an eye at any comings and goings from the hospital that concerned Christian. A high task if anyone asked, but the man Archie hired had come with glowing reports, from a business associate of his.

He glanced at his pocket watch. He'd be late. The invitations were already on the inside pocket of his jacket. He straightened his bow tie, pushed his blond hair back with his fingers. He stepped outside. The smell of the white gardenia boutonniere he wore on the left lapel of his jacket reached his nostrils. He took a deep breath. His love came to mind. Everything fell in place when she occupied his thoughts. A smile rose on his lips.

Monday 6pm

Camden Town

She was ready to go. Even if the thought of leaving her house, made her body feel as if electricity was coursing through it. On the outside she looked her best. She wanted to look her best. Her hair shone. She hadn't cut them, and had grown a bit in length. They almost touched her shoulders. She had pinned them back on the right side with a couple of diamanté hair clips, while on the left side they were coming down her face in blond waves. She had taken particular care of her make up too, with smudged smokey eyes and ruby red lips. Longpearl tasselearrings dangled from her earlobes. But what made her stand out was the silk Chanel scarlet red dress she wore, decorated with pin sized crystals which sparkled in every direction as she moved in it.

Its colour make her complexion almost translucent and it set off her green eyes even more. She hadn't been particularly vain while growing up and in fact, most times she considered herself as average and not particularly elegant or fine looking. Not like her friend Annie for example who was groomed and everything on her was in place, looking absolutely so perfect, she could be a mannequin in a shop.

But over the past few months through her relationship with Christian, she had been in touch with her femininity more than she ever had before. She became more interested in fashion, in all things that came with the vanity most women had. How to fashion her hair, and what accessories to wear. Perfect her make up skills. She splashed her cash, buying things like for example this Chanel dress which looked exquisite even when it hanged in her wardrobe. Where she had been a spendthrift before, for the first time, she had thrown all such concerns to the wind and had decided to appreciate the finer things for at least a while in her life.

She drank a glass of champagne, before putting on some perfume. More or less, she was ready to go. The moment she brought Terry in her mind, the air stood still inside her throat. Having not seen him since that night...She had to remind herself to breath. But she had to go. She wanted to go too. She didn't want to admit it, but despite the torment she felt, that same torment had been sweet, and had made her feel alive down to the tips of her fingers and her toes. Christian had insisted for her to go also. It had been a trying couple of days. He was getting better. The fever had gone by the afternoon. He would be discharged on Tuesday morning. She would go to pick him up with her car and bring him to her home. Not caring what would her neighbours would say. His apartment was in disarray. He needed a much cleaner place for him to recuperate and she wasn't hearing any of his objections which were many. In the meantime, she could go and tidy up the mess at his apartment.

She took a summer shawl with her and was ready to head to the door when she heard a knock. For a moment, she froze. Could it be him? She doubted it, but still...She run to the door and had to steady her hand a little to open the door.

A tall, blond, rather serious man stood at the door.

"Miss Rose White?" He asked her.

"I am she, yes..."

"Miss White, I am Robert Shaw." He said.

"I am sorry Mr. Shaw but I am just about to go." She cut his introduction mid-air.

"From Scotland Yard." He continued, not looking that much fazed. "I apologise Miss White." He added, "You do look like you are about to go somewhere...but I won't take much of your time."

She stood in front of the open door, not knowing what he was there for and whether she should actually insist that she had to leave. The premiere was starting in an hour's time.

"May I come in?" He added and entered her house without waiting much for her reply.

She stood aside as he walked inside her home, with the yes on her lips at the same time which seemed superfluous given that he had already made himself welcomed. He turned to face her.

"I won't keep you long, I promise." He said. Candy really could do nothing else, but take him up on his word, showed him the way to the living room and followed behind him.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked him once they were there. He refused politely as he was on duty at that particular moment. She sat down and prompted him to do the same.

"How can I help you officer?" She said.

"Detective..." He corrected her.

"Oh! I beg you pardon! Detective Shaw that is then!" She said and straightened her dress, feeling nervous already under his stare focusing on her face.

"It is regarding your partner's unfortunate incident." He started, and took his notepad out. Moistened the tip of his pencil, before showing her he was ready for her statement.

"How I can help you with that?" She wondered. "I was inside Mr. Lewis' residence so I wasn't witness of what happened outside." She said.

"On the contrary Miss White." He stated, "I am attempting to construe the whole event of that night."

"Even for those that had remained inside the residence." He repeated her words with intent.

"I see." She said. "Please go ahead, ask what you want to ask then."

"Had Mr. Blake been rather inebriated when he left you to go outside?" He asked, going straight to the point of his interest.

His question left her puzzled. But he seemed rather determined to have that conversation, right there and then, and despite feeling her cheeks rather flushed, she answered without any questions of her own. "To be very honest, I do not remember well, but as it is in those events, there is a fair amount of alcohol involved." She replied. "Christian enjoys his drink, but I cannot say he was terribly drunk...tipsy perhaps..." She continued, while trying to bring the pictures in her head from that night. It was almost impossible however to focus on Christian's state, as she had realised her attention had been more on Terry and Marion, rather than her partner. "Of course we weren't at all times together." She went on with her statement, having lit a cigarette at the same time. "There is also a lot of mingling taking place."

"Yes, that is understandable." He commented on her words while writing down details he kept from what she was trying to remember. For a moment, he stopped and looked like he was trying to bring something else in his mind.

"May I also broach another matter...of more delicate nature?" He asked, trying not to sound too uncomfortable.

She was even more curious now about what else the detective wanted to ask her. She took a drag of her cigarette, "Please go ahead detective."

"How is your relationship with Mr. Blake?"

"Excuse me?!" Candy's utter surprise was evident in her voice.

"I understand this isn't a usual question police asks, but the reason is that I am trying to establish your partner's mental state the night he got stabbed."

Candy still looked like she couldn't connect the dots on what Det. Shaw was saying. "He is our main witness Miss White and if there is a doubt, even a shred over what he stated to me, then his statement won't stand and we will be back to square one."

"He mentioned he had personal issues in his mind that night when he went out."

"Detective Shaw..." She said, while feeling a little protective of her personal affairs. "By personal issues, Christian could mean anything."

He didn't comment on that.

"It could be his work..."

"Which has been rather successful as of late Miss White..."

"Or family..." She added.

"Which he hasn't any..." He counter argued.

She stumbled. "Money problems perhaps?" He asked. It was her time to remain silent and just stare at him without having anything to reply. "If you say that there is no clouds over your relationship..."

"Then by deduction alone, only money issues remain..." He added.

"If that is the case Detective Shaw, which I doubt it is, you should ask Christian himself, because I know nothing of such issue." She said and got up. She felt uncomfortable with this man, digging around them the way he did. Not to mention, Christian's gambling debts which she opted not to reveal. She became unsettled. She was also running late.

"If you excuse me...I am running late."

He got up, closed the notepad and put it in his side pocket.

"Of course!" He apologised. "I am sorry for interrupting your"

A knock at the door cut his apology short too. She took a deep breath and excused herself, while walking to open the door. The detective followed suit. She opened the door and stood there.

"Ah! Mr. Graham!" The Detective exclaimed, the moment he saw him standing at the door, dressed to the nines.

"You Hollywood stars, put the rest of us men to shame." He said as he stretched his hand for a shake.

Terry gave him his hand in response. "Detective..." He said, "You are exaggerating."

He glanced at her, being completely silent. She looked breath taking. It was good that the detective had showed up, because he had swallowed the words that he going to say. He couldn't even remember what he wanted to say.

What the heck that bloody detective was doing at her home...