#bailheap

“aye. something’s been following me. another man’s name is a heavy thing to carry, mick. you should know — you’ve done it all this time, too.”

in callum’s stare lingers the intensity that his flat affect conceals. thus far he’s kept his distance, his back pressed against the door to michael’s office. now, though, he steps slowly forward until he’s poised at the center of the room. in his left hand he holds a manila envelope: wrinkled, grimy, even more so than the documents therein.

not that she could be certain, but … “yes.”

it seemed unwise to answer. more so to remain silent.

her ring finger pops up from where both hands collect tightly around the handle of her supplies basket. it’s a small diamond with two sapphires set on either side. one size too big, but she hadn’t held it against eddy. he was clueless about these sorts of things.

annis eyes the stain.

🐝  *  ―  𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑬𝑬𝑷𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

A CIGARETTE IS PULLED and perfectly balanced between nimble fingers. He slides the the tip across his lips before lighting the end of the thin white paper. He lets the other man talk, much preferring the silence. Tommy surveys the other, blue eyes piercing straight at him, never afraid of a quiet confrontation, though he expects that this is not what Michael is here for.

the conversation has the comfortable shape of abstraction— mathematics, chance. subjects that become considerably less abstract once money is involved. mister lome had spent the better part of the evening lamenting supply shortages and transport delays along the river. and yet. the cuff peeking from beneath his jacket sleeve had fresh stitching and the links looked new, likewise the shine on his boots.

“the mathematics remain sound, naturally. a fair throw is a fair throw,” annis had waited for her turn to interject, flowing into michael’s ebb, “but you’re discussing probability as it exists on paper. my … companion, here, is discussing probability as it exists in a room full of people.”

she picks up one of the small ivory cubes sitting in the middle of the table and turns it between gloved fingers.

michael’s pace is brisk and purposeful. callum takes a more leisurely approach to their journey through the outskirts of the coalfields, a gnarled stick in his hand meant for swatting at obstacles. 

I hope and I pray, when I still have it in my heart to pray to God, that Louis and I won't be here for long. Look, I've accepted that I'll never feel the sun on my face during a sunny afternoon. Not now, not ever again. 

But, hell, it's dreary here! Before I fall asleep—we've found a boarding house where they don't ask questions and we're able to avoid daylight uninterrupted—I hear the rain pattering on the roof. When I wake up? Rain on the roof! It never ends. 

Claudia looks pitiful from a distance—damn near drowned. Still, she regards the man with an unwavering scrutiny—only blinking when water pools on her eyelashes and blurs her vision.

"Why's it gotta be poor him?"

She tilts her head.

HUBERT ONLY WANTED TO SEE A NICE PLAY IN A NICE, NEW THEATRE.

He immediately regrets intervening in any way. It's typically not in his nature to do so. Being abroad had him feeling bold, briefly. The hat might have something to do with it, too. He felt confident and handsome when he left the hotel this afternoon, which had been confronted from a castle and was quite glamorous.