Did You Miss Me?

Blade licked her lips. She could hear someone moving up to the door, unbolting it, sliding it open.

It was a girl, a little girl, maybe about twelve, wearing a sweet little blue dress. Her brown hair was pulled back in two pigtail plaits, falling neatly down her back.

The girl's chocolate-coloured eyes moved up to her, and she gave a small, polite smile, "Can I help you?"

Blade almost immediately regretted knocking. But she shook her head, managing to force some words out of her mouth: "Oh... hello... is... is Michael here?"

She could hear the shake in her voice. The girl didn't seem to notice it.

She nodded, smiling again, and then turned back to the house, "Dad! Daddy! There's someone at the door!"

Daddy?

Jaina's heart pounded. She leant in a little, craning her neck, her eyes following the girl as she trotted into another adjoining room. The door blocked her vision and she suppressed a curse. Was that... Could that have been... Surely that wasn't...

She stopped herself, pulling back, quickly, as she heard another voice. Much deeper, much older, sounding characteristically male, gently scolding, "Rose Marie, what have I told you! Don't open the door! It could be anyone!"

Rose Marie?

She was frozen to the spot. She couldn't move. A hand appeared on the edge of the door, holding it open a little. There was a pause, and muffled clunks. Maybe the person was juggling with different things, maybe he was busy, maybe he was just placing a hand on his daughter's forehead, on Rose Marie's forehead, ushering her back away, turning back round to open the door, oh my God...

The door swung fully open. The man behind it glanced once more back over his shoulder before turning his attention to the door, pushing it back so he could see through properly. He froze.


The mug in the man's hand fell to the floor, smashing into pieces on the wood. Blade's eyes followed it. His stayed on her. She glanced back up again. There was a long silence.

She managed to open her mouth: "Hello Michael."

Michael nodded, slowly. Then he glanced down at the broken apart mug and back, shaking his head, "I... I was just making tea."

She nodded. Of all the things to say. But she found herself incapable of any adequate response. She paused, looking at him, and then glanced into the house, frowning, "The fire's not lit."

"Yeah, I... I was never any good at lighting fires. You... always used to do it for me."

She just looked at him. She didn't know what to say, so she decided for a polite courtesy: "D'you want me to light it now?"

He looked at her, and then nodded, "Sure. Yeah, sure." He paused again, and then shook his head, moving out of her way, "Come in."

She moved into the house, crouching down by the fireplace and lighting it with a small fireball. The dry wood immediately caught, crackling away, easily moving into the look of a fire that had been lit for an hour. Boy, typically, wandered in after her and curled down beside it. By the look of him, he wouldn't be moving for some time.

She nodded, satisfied, let her fingers trail across Boy's head, and then straightened up, turning back to him.

Michael was still standing by the door, the cracked remnants of the cup lying unheeded at his feet. He just stared at her. She looked at him. It was late. His long sandy-brown hair was ruffled, his green eyes strangely strained. Tired. He was wearing cloth trousers and a plain shirt. Probably just making a mug of tea then heading for bed. Maybe the other, the boy, was asleep right now. Maybe the girl was supposed to be in bed asleep right now.

Her eyes moved up the hall, looking for the girl. She could hear clattering in the adjacent room. Michael's gaze followed hers, and then moved back to her, "She's always up late. Should be tired, but she's up at sunrise, on the dot, every day. No matter what time she went to sleep."

He moved round, opening the door, smiling a soft smile as Rose Marie wandered up to him, "Heya, sweetheart. Come on. Time for bed."

The girl nodded, sleepily. Her eyes moved onto Blade, but she was too tired to ask. She walked up the stairs, hand brushing the banister, "Night, daddy."

"Night night, love." He replied, quietly. She smiled, and then continued up to her room. The door shut behind her. Jaina's eyes stayed on the wood, not ready to look away just yet.

Then she moved her gaze back to Michael. He was still looking at her, the door still open.

Her eyes moved around his home, with his pictures, and his furniture, and his children, and she shook her head, slowly, backing away slightly. "This isn't the right time, I'll come back -"

His hand took hold of her wrist, firmly. She glanced down at it. And then back up to him.

"You won't." he said, looking at her. "You won't."

She hesitated. He took a step towards her. Then he pulled her closer, his hands firm and tight on her back, almost desperate, wrapping himself around her, enclosing her, pulling her down towards him into a hug.


Jacqueline gave a small smile. She paused, waiting for a second, and then turned, tiptoeing out of the alleyway, sneaking away.

She got back to her house, and the door was still open, the fire giving a nice, warm light from inside. She crept into the house, going as quietly as she could up the stairs. She clambered into bed, pulling the covers over her. It wasn't long before she fell asleep.