Chapter 63

14th of July 1925 (Tuesday)

She opened her eyes to the sound of birds outside the window. When she realised where she was and with whom, it was enough to make Alice catch her breath, if only momentarily.

She remembered Christian carrying her to the bed. His lips were on her neck when - her voice just a whisper, afraid to break the spell - she had asked him, "What are we doing Christian?" He had pulled back and she had bitten her bottom lip in response, her heart the shape of the wings of a sparrow flapping inside her chest. His lips had travelled to her ear and she had felt him suck her earlobe, his tongue playing with it, and then his voice, soft and breathy - sounding almost amused -

"What do you think we're doing Alice?"

She hadn't replied. Instead she had felt his hand covering the mound between her legs, his thumb sliding down, rubbing her swollen clit.

Her stomach twisted with pleasure to the memory. She still found it hard to comprehend what had happened. Christian was sleeping next to her. He looked very young in his sleep, with the features of his face relaxed, calm. She stared at his lips. They had been everywhere on her body. The heavy linen blanket had slid down to his hip bones. His body was lean with every muscle well defined, broad chest, taut abdomen. She could just lie there, observing him. Then she noticed. The scar where she had stabbed him. She shuddered. The image of both of them, getting soaked under the rain. The lightnings on the night sky, his face. She couldn't forget his eyes and his voice.

"Stab me"

The hair on her arms stood up. Without realising, she had stretched her arm, her fingers traced the red line. She felt the bump on his skin. Her breath was thick in her throat.

His hand covered hers, stopped hers from what she was doing. It was a soft move from his part but intended to stop her. She pulled her hand back.

"I'm sorry..." She said to him and turned to meet with his gaze.

"It's ok." He replied, his voice croaked from the sleep.

"Good morning." She replied and gave him a smile of content.

He didn't reply. He kept looking at her. She realised straight away. She brought to her mind the river she was swimming into the day before. The exhilaration she felt. The freedom. She was standing on its one edge, and Christian on the other. The river remained between them, forever flowing, its waters dark blue and silent.

He got up. Watched him dress his naked body. His underpants, the charcoal trousers, the undershirt. Each garment covering him from her. Pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. The moment he started rolling his sleeves up, his eyes met hers. Nothing to reveal - like the river.

"I'll make us some tea..." He said.

Alice didn't reply. Seemingly fixated on him rolling those sleeves.

Back to business

That's what Alice was for Christian. Just business. Something had happened the night before and he was just ready to gloss over it, pretend it didn't happen.

It shouldn't have happened.

Christian disappeared to the room next door without waiting for her reply. She got up. Looked around her. Her dress wasn't there. She could hear him, pouring the water in the kettle, taking tin mugs out the cupboard. His white shirt was thrown on the floor. She picked it and pushed her arms through the sleeves. She smelled him on her, when she started buttoning it up.

He stood in front of the lit stove, waiting for the water to boil.

"Was I a good fuck at least?" She said.

He turned. Alice stood at the door, barefoot with just his white shirt on, having her arms crossed over her chest. Hair pulled behind her ears, her hazel eyes shining like the forest after the rain.

"Don't do that Alice." Christian said and turned back to the stove.

"Why not?" She replied, sounding defiant, hiding every feeling felt behind that tone in her voice. Walked inside the room, picked her ripped dress from the floor. She held it in her hand and threw it on the table as she pulled the chair to sit down. The strawberries she had picked from the day before were still in her cardigan. She took one and put it in her mouth.

"You weren't bad yourself." She continued while he poured the tea in the mugs. She took another strawberry, sucked it between her lips and pulled the green stalk out. She was provoking him in every single way, to get a reaction out of him. "A satisfying seven out of ten..." Her last words managed to turn his eyes on her. They were locked by her stare.

He tried to avoid having to talk about the sex they had. In Christian's mind, it shouldn't have happened,

end of story,

end of conversation,

end of chat,

whatever Alice wanted to call it, he didn't want to deal with it, at that point. It wasn't out of loyalty for Rose. He loved Rose and in a way he would always love her but his relationship with her, looking back at it, despite all the best intentions he had and he did have those intentions

-Rose had been the one who he even had considered to propose to, to make her his wife-

even if up to that point he was against marriage, he imagined life next to her would have been the closest thing to how a life of happiness would have felt,

but

Hand on the Bible sort of truth? It was a doomed relationship. There were too many ifs.

If he hadn't got into trouble with London's underworld.

If he wasn't the famous Raven.

If she hadn't a life and a past she kept hidden up to a point and was still attached to

If she didn't love the other...

Too many ifs and the last one was like the rock that sunk the ship. He could have fought for her but love shouldn't have to be gained by fighting. Love wasn't a trophy to be taken at the end of a duel. If Rose hadn't loved Terry, she would have been honest about her past. She would have dealt with it, make peace with it and move on. The fact that she had come to live in London under a different name, that was the clue that told him she hadn't moved on. Instead of tending to her wound and help it heal, it was as if she had just ripped her arm off and had thrown it away, hoping she'd forget... She wouldn't.

"As far as I recall, you didn't even know what we were doing..." He said under his breath.

He brought the mug of hot tea to his lips. This was the only comment he let slip. What did he feel for Alice if he felt something that is - this had been unknown up till then.

So many things had happened, since the opening of the exhibition, seeing her for the first time when Charlie's men had brought him in front of the man. She had stood by his side. She had been well informed about him and Rose, the painting, the lot...

In fact, as he came to realise he had been watched long before things had turned sour. Alice had wedged herself in his life in a way that he couldn't control or do anything about it. Even if he had wanted to.

At the start, he was certain she would have found her maker by his hands. That is how enraged she was making him feel. It wasn't just the fact she was the girlfriend of one of the most powerful criminal in London. Alice wasn't sort of confidence herself. Christian may not have met her before, but he was aware of who she was. Her reputation proceeded her. It was her name that had brought MacDonald to bail her out of prison, just before their romance blossomed. He had already been in love with her.

The stabbing, that moment when in desperation, utter madness, he asked her to stab him, he put his life in her hands. She could had taken the advantage and finish him right there and then. But she didn't. She hadn't. Every time they met after that, he was discovering a change. Not only on her but on him also.

Unplanned it may had been, but by the time he saw her on top of him, having passed through the worry of having lost her, at that precise moment, it was as if Christian and Alice had been castaways on a strange land far away from everyone else. What was to happen from that point forward though, in Christian's plan hadn't included her. It couldn't include her. The plan he had put together involved only him and no one else. Even if he did feel something for Alice, he wasn't going to discuss it. He wasn't going to even acknowledge it.

"I could take offence to what you said but I'll pass since I'm witnessing the miracle of you talking..." She said acting surprised. It hurt her, the way he shut down but she wasn't to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"And that is all I am going to say Alice." He added in a firm tone, and took a gulp from his tea. "Drink up, it'll turn cold." He told her. Patted his pockets for the tobacco. He took the pouch out and rolled them two cigarettes. Passed the one to her. Lit it up and watched her as she took the first drag. His shirt suited her.

"Drink up, smoke up." She exclaimed frustrated, putting a stop to his thoughts. "Why don't you just gag me so I can shut up and you be in peace and quiet."

She wasn't letting it go. He took a breath, got up and started pacing around the room like a trapped animal. "It shouldn't have happened Alice, all right?"

He stopped, pushed his hair back with his fingers, his body a dark silhouette against the daylight coming from the window. "If you have one shred of intelligence in that brain of yours, you'll know..."

He came close, his gaze on her face, serious, stern.

"You know, whatever we did last night, should remain there. It's gone, ok?"

He pulled back again, not breaking the eye contact with her.

"And frankly, I don't know why you want to discuss it. What do you want to know? Whether I enjoyed it?"

She wasn't going to reply. She just grabbed the chance she had to hear him since she realised that he also was trying to come in terms of them coming close, and whatever he was saying to her, he was saying to himself also.

"That I fancy you? I desire you? What is it?"

In between every statement and question, he glanced at her.

"Even if I answered all the above, nothing will make a difference Alice... our paths have been carved already, so no... I find it a futile, narcissistic and frankly dumb idea of us talking."

"We just happened to fuck, end of story."

He stopped his monologue and stared at her.

She wanted to tell him that for her it was a bit more than just a fuck. From the time he arrived in front of her, on that deserted warehouse, she knew him beforehand of course, she had watched him from the shadows, following Charlie's plan, she already knew him as an attractive man but the fascination with him was born inside that warehouse. Not many people stood so defiant in front of the leader of the Elephant boys. She was against killing, but she was aware of the brutality some of those men, including Charlie were functioning. She shuddered to the thought. He was right... she wanted to tell him that her fascination had turned into something deeper. He had crawled beneath her skin and had infected her mind but all that... they would have to stay inside her because she cared for him too much. If her lover found out, Christian would become history, end of. And even bringing Charlie the royal jewels wouldn't suffice or stop his demise.

"I'll need some clothes if you keep me here for long." She said to him as if he hadn't said a word from what he just said.

Tuesday morning, was a typical English summer day. Warm and muggy. It was rained the night before. Terry hadn't stayed at the hospital. Just when the hospital staff were settling into their night shift, he discharged himself. Stitches looked as good as it could get, there were no cracked ribs, no concussion, no fever.

He took the decision after the visit from Robert Shaw, the police constable on a mission. Of course, it was Terry's mistake. He had to live with it. He couldn't erase it. He had to put it behind him, and live with the consequences.

When he saw the detective entering his room on Monday a while after Archie's visit, he realised those consequences the alcohol in his blood stream on Sunday evening hadn't let him consider at the time.

The surprise was great and evident on Robert's face and voice when he asked Terry what had happened to him.

"Unfortunately I ventured to the wrong part of the city and I was mugged." Terry used the easiest excuse in the book.

"Well whoever did this to you, went over and beyond beating the daylights out of you Mr. Graham, if you permit me. Looks like a very zealous mugger who targeted only your wallet."

He asked him where it happened but Terry refused to go on. "Somewhere I didn't recognise. I have been away from London for more than ten years Detective." He had said. "I prefer to forget this whole unfortunate incident if you don't mind."

Whether the police detective was convinced, it remained unknown. But he had respected Terry's wish and did not any further questions. Instead he had moved to the reason of his visit.

"I assume you must know why I am here Mr. Graham." He said right after.

Given his position, he had but to accept to the Detective that he did visit the police station and he had given a statement to a police officer.

"Indeed I do, Detective." He said. With body and mind in alert, he took a deep breath.

"Do you mind repeating to me what you said to the police officer yesterday?" He asked him.

Of course, he had no objection to tell him what he already said to Melvin. We -

"Who's we?" The Detective asked him. Terry realised on the spot that the Detective was intent to draw every single detail out of him, anything that Terry had omitted to disclose prior.

He had hesitated for a brief moment. He hadn't wanted to involve Archie, even if Archie had been more keen than him to visit the police. Given his chance meeting with MacDonald and the night he spent with Christian, he had become almost convinced he shouldn't involve or reveal anything more than what was revealed. MacDonald wasn't someone to consider lightly.

"I am sorry Detective...I'm rather forgetful, given my state. I meant I..."

Robert stood on that correction, weighing it in his mind. "Are you sure Mr. Graham? You said the same thing to Melvin..."

"Oh but you'll also have to take into account that I was rather inebriated Detective." Terry said.

Accept your mistakes...

"Become as open...

As an open book for the Detective.

Terry was getting into the role. Had switched the acting gears on.

Robert smiled. "Yes, the officer noticed that too..."

"It is I who hired the detective." He had repeated for a good measure, wanting to snuff out any shred of doubt that was still lit inside Robert's mind.

"And may I ask the why...Mr. Graham?"

Terry gave him a bitter, almost tortured smile. That of the scorned pursuer.

"I found myself rather fond..." He had said, measuring his word with the outmost care.

"Of his girlfriend, Detective."

Robert turned his stare from the open window - he was observing the movement on the street while he had his ears tuned to Terry's answers. Terry had thrown the hook.

"Of course, I was rejected... but everyone who knows me, knows also well that I'm rather a difficult man to take no for an answer." He had the undivided attention of the detective at that point. "Of course, the lady has every right to reject me, as I have every right to find every shadow where her lover hides his secrets, every skeleton he finds desirable to keep..."

The Detective had given him a half smile. He had looked even considerate. Little did Terry know that he had spoken to his heart. Only Robert knew. The way Terry had put it, he hadn't sounded too dissimilar from what Robert was doing to win Alice. Taking down every man was around her... MacDonald, Blake, till she remained alone and able to realise how good he would have been for her.

"I understand you completely Mr. Graham." He said.

Terry almost felt he won an ally.

"All is fair in love and war, Detective." He put the last nail in his statement.

"So you can understand now my reason to hire a detective, to manage to dig up dirt on Christian Blake."

"Of course, it is clear as the day." He said.

The rest, more or less, he had repeated what he had said to the officer in the station. Christian being seen inside the Blind Beggar, talking with Billy Pike - apparently MacDonald's right hand - and both seemed to have access to the basement where MacDonald keeps his business side of things. The private detective by acting as someone who liked gambling had gained access to the poker tables in there. He kept recording everything useful he heard people whispering, or saying our loud under the influence of drugs and alcohol. He had also seen Christian liaising with Alice Diamond at a park. Of course they pretended they didn't know each other but she had passed him a note...She was also rather aggressive, having slapped Christian after something he had said to her.

"Mr. Blake is swimming in dangerous waters. Mr. Graham." He turned to say to Terry. "From our evidence, it may be possible that he does have working connections with MacDonald but also a romantic link with Alice Diamond, the famous jewel thief."

It was a rather thought provoking moment for Terry, the release of that particular information from Robert.

"If Alice was the thief on that night in Lord Wooster's mansion...then Mr. Blake's need to protect her, seems to be bigger than a man's who only happened to be on the scene by chance..."

"What do you mean Detective?" Terry asked him, forgetting for a moment of his role. "That Christian's stabbing wasn't an accident?"

"Well, for me Mr. Graham, everything is possible, until I eliminate all possibilities to remain with just one."

Terry had remained silent. He wished he could have been able to speak to Christian again but something told him that he would have been a very difficult man to find from there on forward.

"However, Mr. Blake looks like he's gone underground as we speak. We're on the lookout for him." Robert said to him.

"Oh I had no idea!" Terry feigned surprise. "We were on the same party on Saturday evening."

By the reaction of Robert hearing the last sentence by Terry, he realised he was walking into a trap.

"Ah! Really?" He asked him. "Which brings me to the my last question Mr. Graham." He said.

"And what it that?"

"Why did you wait till Sunday to walk into the police station to give all this information about Mr. Blake?"

"Are you insinuating something that escapes my understanding Detective?" Terry asked him raising his good brow.

"Well, it does make me think if I have to be sincere with you Mr. Graham." He said back to Terry. "You've gone to all this trouble as you said to uncover Mr. Blake's skeletons."

"Yes..."

"And then you sit on it for a good while..."

"Judging from your reaction to my sharing information about our common interest, you didn't know that Mr. Blake had seen kissing Alice in front of his house some days back."

The plot indeed had thickened for Christian as well as Terry and he had cursed between his teeth because he hadn't quizzed more closely Christian on Sunday night. Suppose he had his injuries to blame for that, but still he had missed the opportunity and now Christian was the one person, that Terry had wanted to see and talk to more than anyone else.

"Which brings me to my previous question." Robert said and by the next question, he had proven the cunning ways his mind was working. "Did something happen at that party on Saturday that prompted you to burst into a police station, in a drunken state, demanding to see someone to give information about Christian?"

Terry's stare hardened. Indeed it was a foolish thing to do, burst inside that police station. Upon hearing the last question from Robert, he swore to himself, to not listen to his impulses.

"I think that is a private matter Detective." Terry replied, sounding dry, cut off, end of discussion.

Robert came close to him, keeping the eye contact intact. He stood on the side of Terry's bed, looking down on him. "You see Mr. Graham, I do not think it is a private matter." He said sounding equally serious, "Because if you knew Mr. Blake's secret affairs and you were blackmailing him for your advantage, instead of coming earlier to the police..."

"Not only you may have landed yourself in hot waters...the look of your injuries for a common mugging seem rather excessive... but you also could be accused being an accomplice to Mr. Blake's actions."

Behind Terry's British phlegmatic appearance which he had put on with absolute perfection, the extent of the foolishness of his actions had expanded in all its glory, like the sails of a ship, ready to cross the ocean. He had bitten his tongue not to throw an especially acidic remark to Robert's assumptions which were spot on.

"Well, I must thank you for your concern over my injuries, though I assure you that whoever attacked me, had no other target than to unburden me of whatever material possessions I carried on me at the moment" He said. "As for your second assumption, I have to be forthright with you, in the same manner as you are with me."

He took a breath. "Indeed I knew of Christian's actions. After all I had hired the private detective for some time." He continued. "But even if my motives were completely those of a personal gain, I am not a complete bastard, Detective. I do carry a soft heart deep down, believe it or not. So yes, I had warned Christian. I wanted to give his relationship with Miss White a chance before I make my move."

"And crash that said relationship, as you did on Sunday." Robert finished Terry's sentence. "So something must had happened on Saturday then."

"Let's just say that my patience had worn thin by then, having seen no action from Christian's part."

"And Miss White? Does she know any of this?" Robert asked.

Terry had taken one more breath. The images of him and Candy on their last encounter were particularly painful.

"No, she doesn't. I spared her from the knowledge."

"You don't seem happy though."

The Detective had been very observant, Terry had to admit it.

He smiled, looking despondent. "Detective, you can do so much to make the woman of your affections fall in love with you but alas love cannot be forced. Even if you eliminate your opponent, it doesn't mean that you can take his place willy nilly. What the heart doesn't need, the heart doesn't love. It looks like I'm in no need for Miss White."

"So all that amounted for nothing..."

"You could say that. But then again if you don't try..." Terry concluded. It was the right time to send the detective on his way. "I believe you must have now everything you came for, Detective."

"Indeed I have." Robert said and he was telling the truth. It looked like that the actor having being enamoured with Christian's girlfriend, tried to erode their relationship by digging up dirt on him and in the end, she just wasn't interested in the poor man who was lying on the bed, feeling sorry for himself.

"If you don't mind then, I feel tired and I want to just lie down and sleep."

"You do that Mr. Graham. And I'm very sorry that your romantic pursuing ended up in such a way. Just permit me to say that your statement has helped greatly with the police's investigation on Mr. Blake and his association with Charles MacDonald. So something good will come out at least."

The two men looked at each other, the Detective finally said his goodbye and left the room. Terry let a breath out.

Back to the privacy of his hotel suite, he had time to gather his thought. Weigh everything that took place. He was certain for one thing. His attempts to win Candy back, had blinded him so much, the extent of his screwing up only now had started to reveal itself. His belief in the history he'd shared with Candy wavered, for the first time feeling its foundations being built into shifting sand. Having realised that, a wave of profound remorse swelled inside him. That was the reason he left the hospital.

"There is always an apology to be given..."

Christian's words echoed inside his head. He had already finished breakfast. Having lit the first cigarette of the day, he picked up the phone. He had to start from somewhere.

"Good morning. Can you please connect me with the residence of Sir Edward Lewis?" He said with a steady voice.