It was a relief to finally finish work. I walked down one of the main roads in Islington and turned into an alley of backstreets, avoiding human pedestrians on my way to meet up with Eric. Checking my watch I saw I was nearly fifteen minutes early. I had to squint as it was dark in the early evening and the street lights were few and far between.
Somehow I ended up getting a little lost. I'd been so sure of the route before. As I stood against a railing, trying to figure it out, music hit my ears. It was familiar though it took me a moment to recognise it as 'My Fair Lady'. I turned around, trying to figure out where it had come from, and jumped a little, fancying I saw a person's shadow, and the music started to fade ever so slightly. I turned away and started walking, knowing I had to meet up with Eric, and as I did, the music got louder again. There was a hand on my shoulder and I jumped violently and spun round, only to find no one there – but the shadow had reappeared. They backed away into the shadows, the music fading with them, and I found myself following it.
"Excuse me, sir!?" I called, hurrying, but he was nowhere in sight.
The music continued to play and I couldn't help but follow it, almost as though the Pied Piper of Hamlin was luring me away. I started to lose my breath as I ran through the backstreets, trying to track down the music player, curious to find the lady or gentleman whose shadow I had seen. Stopping against a wall for a moment I looked up to see a shop close by. I caught my breath and looked at it properly. The sign read; 'Angel Wing Antique Shop'. I approached, looking at the display in the window, nibbling my bottom lip as a doll stared back at me. The tune was louder and clearer now. My curiosity got the better of me and I reached for the door handle, entering the shop before my nerves took over. The music stopped abruptly as the door closed behind me.
"Welcome, young man"
I looked up quickly, finding a man sat with a large music box on his lap, a blue mark on his cheek identical to that which decorated the box.
"G-good evening, sir" I stammered. "I'm sorry; I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
I flinched a little and backed away against the door as he stood up, setting the music box down and taking a step towards me. He wavered, unsteady, as though he was going to fall over.
"You have the ring" he said, moving closer.
"Th-the ring? I'm sorry sir; I don't wea-"
I gasped as he took hold of my wrist. His hand felt odd, stiff, the shape of his fingers not quite right through his gloves. He raised my hand to level our eyes and I jumped a little to see a ring on my thumb: a blue stone banded in gold.