A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (21 page)

 “Do you mind me asking what happened to your biological parents?” I say,
hoping my question doesn’t cause any offence. Frank smiles.

 “No, I don’t mind, you can ask that. I never knew either of my real
parents. I was raised in an orphanage. Terrible place. I ran away when I was
thirteen and lived in squats, sometimes on the streets. I lasted just over a
year and then got caught stealing food from a grocery store - and some other
stuff. They sent me to juvenile prison for six months.”

 He pauses for breath, I don’t say anything because he seems to be on a
role. I let him continue. “That was probably the worst time of my life, worse
even than living in the orphanage. When I got out they sent me back there,
after only a week I was in a fight with a couple of the others kids,” he smirks
now, “I caused some damage. They were going to send me back to juvie, that’s
when John found me and convinced my social workers to let me come live with
him. He said if he didn’t get me straightened out in six weeks they could take
me back. So, here I am, John “straightened” me out as he said he would and I’ve
got myself a new family thrown into the bargain.”

 “A happy ending then?” I say with a grin.

 “You could say that,” Frank responds. “So, how about you Florence,
what’s your story?”

 “I don’t have one,” I answer stupidly.

 “You sure about that?” he prods.

 “You already know it all,” I tell him and shrug, as if to convey that
there isn’t much else for him to hear.

 “I know that you can see things other people can’t. You’re an Empath,
you told me that. But you never told me about your life before you came here,
surely there’s something you can tell me about that.”

 “Not really, it’s all fairly m-mundane.” I answer with as much
nonchalance as I can muster.

 He sits up straight now and looks me in the face. “You aren’t fooling me
Flo. I grew up in a bloody orphanage, I’ve seen scared kids all my life, and
what I could see in them I see in you too. Somebody gave you those frightened
eyes, a normal upbringing doesn’t create eyes like that. Believe me, I know.”

 A sharp intake of breath and then he calms a little, though his
aggression doesn’t put me on edge. It isn’t aimed at me, it’s aimed at the
person who made me scared. Dad.

 “God, everyone’s just dead set on getting me to pour my guts out this
week,” I say to myself. Frank looks puzzled, so I answer his unspoken question.
“The Guidance Counsellor, Sam, he wanted me to talk to him about
stuff
too.”

 “And did you?” says Frank.

 “Not really, I kind of skirted around most of his questions.” I fidget
nervously with the hem of my t-shirt, and hope he’ll change the subject. He
doesn’t.

 “You can tell me anything, Flo,
anything.
I know you think I’ll
judge you for what another person did to you, but I won’t. I will always be on
your side,” says Frank, with the utmost sincerity. Still, I’d rather not talk
about myself or my shitty past.

 “Sounds to me like you already know everything from the way you’re
talking.” I tell him.

 “I can guess, but I don’t know specifics. I’d rather hear it from you.
I’d rather have you trust me with your secrets,” he says, in a quiet voice.

 “Isn’t that kind of hypocritical,” I reply, “since you obviously d-don’t
trust me with yours?”

 Frank smiles broadly. “Why do you want to know? Wouldn’t that spoil the
mystery?” he asks with humour, but I can see that he’s trying to make a joke of
it so that he doesn’t have to reveal anything.

 “I don’t like enigmas. I’d prefer to know what I’m dealing with.” I say,
persistent.

 “Don’t worry, I’m nothing you can’t handle. After all, you see
everything, don’t you, beautiful,” he taps my forehead gently with his index
finger.

 “Not everything. Besides, sometimes a picture isn’t enough information,
sometimes you need words to go along with the visual to really see it
entirely.”

 “You’re determined aren’t you, how about I promise to tell you, just not
right this minute. Give me two weeks, what do you say?”

 I pause to consider it. “One week and it’s a deal.”

 “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Vaine. Okay, one week, then I’ll tell
you everything,” he presents his hand for me to shake, after a moment I take it
and at the same try to stifle a yawn. It’s been a long day.

 “You’re tired.” Frank observes.

 “Just a little,” I reply.

 “Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggests. “You can sleep here on my bed,
and I’ll wake you once John starts the barbecue.”

 I raise a suspicious eyebrow. Frank laughs. “I’ll be
downstairs
.”

 Frank kisses me on the forehead before swiftly leaving the room, closing
the door gently behind him. I fall back into the pillows and drift off almost
immediately. The smell of him on the sheets is oddly soothing.

 Later on I wake up to the smell of meat cooking, it drifts into the
bedroom through the open window. I’m alone in the room. I go into Frank’s en
suite to use the toilet, it’s small with just a shower and a sink. White towels
neatly folded on the rack, an orderly row of toiletries line a white shelf. I
rub the sleep from my eyes and pull the elastic bands from my hair, undoing the
plaits.

 I wet my hands and run some water through it to straighten out the
waves. I slip on my shoes and make my way downstairs. The kitchen is empty, but
the sliding doors leading out to the garden are wide open and I can hear music
and voices coming from outside. I follow them.

 “Ah, sleeping beauty awakens,” Alex announces sarcastically the moment I
step out into the garden. Frank gives him a look. John has a navy and white
striped apron on and he’s standing over an impressive stainless steel barbecue
with a spatula in his hand, flipping the burgers over.

 Frank approaches me. “I was just about to come and wake you up,” he says
softly.

 “Well I saved you the journey then,” I answer, while peering around the
garden. At the moment I’m standing on a large wooden decking area with garden
furniture. Beyond that is grass, and beyond the grass there are some flower
beds surrounded by a fence that closes the area off from the rest of the land.

 “Come sit down,” says Frank, leading me to the table where Ross, Layla, Alex,
Kevin and Benji are seated. Hayley must still be at work.

 By mistake I sit in the chair beside Layla, and Frank sits on the other
side of me. Layla’s black hair is twisted and clipped up all over her head,
with lots of strands hanging down. Her golden hazel eyes are rimmed black and
she’s wearing a silky cream strapless top and a long white cotton skirt with
sandals. I have this urge to get her to like me, I don’t know where it comes
from. Girls like Layla tend to get along better with boys than with other
girls.

 “Hi Flo,” she says with a hesitant smile. “I heard you were in a bit of
a scrape earlier.”

 “Yes,” I nod and lift my plastered hands to show her. “But I feel better
now.”

 My knee feels itchy, scabs must be forming over the wounds. I reach down
and rub it in an effort to soothe the itching.

 “So,” says John, shouting over from the barbecue. “Is everybody having
burgers?”

 The boys and Layla all shout that they are, and I say yes very quietly.
There are big bowls of salad spread out on the table. Frank picks up a glass
and pours me some lemonade. I smile in thanks. After a minute John starts
handing us each a plate with our burgers, which are massive.

 The burger John cooked is done perfectly, and I savour the exquisite yet
simple pleasure of good food. He brings over a tray of barbecued chicken wings
and plops it onto the table. Alex and Kevin immediately grab for them.

 John finally sits down with us to eat and I watch as Frank and his
brothers chat and argue and laugh as they eat their food with the man who is
their father in all but blood. I haven’t mentioned this yet, probably because
I’m so used to being around Frank and his foster brothers and their flames, but
the same fire emanates from John. Only it’s more concentrated and edged in a deep
royal blue. So he must be the same as them, whatever they are. I wonder if
that’s the reason he chose these particular boys to bring into his home, they
share a common difference with him. Interesting. My curiosity is literally
consuming me. I don’t know if I can wait a whole week to find out.

 “Is Hayley going to be joining us?” I ask, directing my question at
Frank, but John answers me.

 “She’s at work until six, sugar,” he tells me with a smile. “But don’t
worry, we’ll save some food for her.”

 When we’re finished eating Alex suggests a running competition between
the boys. Frank and the others hop up immediately and begin outlining rules for
the race, setting up boundaries out in the open space beyond the fence that
surrounds the flowers beds.

 Layla rolls her eyes. “Well that’s just great, do you lot expect me and
Flo to sit around watching you try to outrun each other?” she says in a bored
voice, “and don’t tell me I’m free to take part, you know I can’t run in this
skirt. And Flo hurt her leg today, so she can’t run either.”

 “But sweetness,” says Ross mockingly, clearly enjoying Layla’s
annoyance, “it will give you two a chance to have some girl time.” Then he
dashes off to join the rest of the boys beside the heap of t-shirts on the
grass that marks the starting point of their race.

 I try to ignore that fact that they are all now topless. But it isn’t
much out of the ordinary since the sun is belting down on us. I wipe a drop of
sweat from my brow and try not to look at the half naked boys in front of me,
all are athletically muscled.

 Frank smiles and winks when he catches me looking at him, and I almost
fall down to sit on the grass beside Layla. Who, by the way, doesn’t appear at
all happy to be stuck with me. I wish she liked me, because despite her
hostility, I actually think I quite like her. We sit in silence for a minute or
two, while the boys prepare to run.

 John is standing off to the side when he calls, “On your marks, get set,
go!” and they race off into the distance, their flames shooting into the air
behind them. Wow.

 I squint my eyes and peer after them, using my hand to block the sun
from clouding my vision,

 “Where’s the finish line?” I ask Layla, confused.

 She sighs and then laughs. “It’s the same as where they started, they’ll
go right the way around the outskirts of the woods and then finish back here
again.”

 “Oh,” I reply. “But won’t that take like, a really long time?”

 “Not really, they’re very fast,” she tells me, with secret knowledge in
her eyes.

 That’s right, I remember Frank telling me he’d run home from that barn
party in Remington, and it hadn’t taken him too long either.

 John passes by us then. “I’ve gotta go see to a bit of business,” he
calls to Layla. “You can tell me who wins later.”

 Then he walks off to go back inside the house. It’s kind of awkward
sitting here with Layla all alone. I struggle to think of something to say to
her since she clearly isn’t going to broach a conversation.

 “H-how long h-have you and Ross been going out?” I ask, stammering
because of her determined silence.

 She glances at me. “About a year.” I wonder if she knows just how much
Alex is in love with her, but I tell myself that is definitely
not
something I should ask her.

 “H-have you lived in Chesterport all your life?” I continue to try and
make conversation, hoping she’ll give in eventually.

 “Since I was ten,” she tells me. “I live with my aunt Nancy, my parents
are both travelling acrobats. I stayed with them through my childhood, going
from country to country with the circus they performed in. Then they decided I
needed more stability so they dumped me with Nancy.”

 I widen my eyes, because I hadn’t expected her to answer in any kind of
detail, but also because of the nature of her answer. Her parents are circus
performers, that was the last thing I would have expected. Not because Layla
doesn’t seem like the kind of girl to come from an unusual background, she
does, it’s just that most parents have much more mundane occupations.

 She actually laughs when she sees my reaction. “You seem shocked, Flo.”
She turns to face me now.

 “It’s just, that’s so cool, how unusual. You must have had a wonderful
childhood, growing up in the circus.”

 Layla shrugs. “It had its ups and downs I guess, but they aren’t with
the old circus any more. You know Cirque du Soleil?” she asks.

 “Vaguely,” I answer, knowing it’s some sort of circus show with
colourful costumes. I’ve seen a poster for it somewhere, probably back in
Tribane.

 “Well, they’re in that now,” says Layla. “They come here to see me in
the off-season, but mostly they’re on tour so I don’t get to see them often.”

 “That m-must be hard,” I reply, although I don’t know what it’s like to
actually
want
to spend time with your parent. I’ve only ever wanted to
get away from mine. “Do you like living with your aunt?” I ask, wanting to keep
the conversation going now that she’s thawed a little.

 “It’s okay. Nancy’s pretty liberal so I have a lot of freedom with her,
then again, sometimes I feel like I just want to be with Mum and Dad again, you
know. Go travelling around the world and not have to get up and go to boring
old Chesterport Secondary every day.”

 “You’ve only got one more year left,” I say, by way of consolation.
“Then you’ll be free to go and do whatever you want.”

 Layla gazes off into the distance. “Yeah, I suppose,” she says while
ripping up a blade of grass and smoothing it out between her fingers. “But I
don’t want to go anywhere without Ross, and I know he’ll never leave
Chesterport, at least not unless his family do too.”

 “I’m sure he’ll want to travel once he’s finished school, even for a
couple of months. He’ll always be able to come home to his family. It’s not
like he has to leave them forever.” I say.