Cold (9 page)

The rest of the day passed slowly for Jo. She'd gone back to her house after leaving the small park in Whitechapel. She'd made herself a pot of tea and settled down to watch TV, something she rarely did. She couldn't quite bring herself to go down to the pub, which would be her normal course of action.

She went back into the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what Rosanna had bought her this week.

Her mother had employed Rosanna shortly after her parents had bought her the small house. Rosanna was the daughter of Marianna's cook at their London home. Jo's mother knew that her youngest daughter didn't know what a supermarket was, let alone what she should buy in it.

Rosanna bought food, and put it in the refrigerator and cupboards. Most of it she removed a couple of days later, untouched. But there was always food there should she need it.

So Jo peered into the fridge, amazed at the variety of things she found there. She also found bread in another cupboard and made herself a passable ham sandwich.

She switched on the TV and settle down to watch.

The rather droll TV fare and the warmth from the fire, coupled with the unsettled nights she'd been having, soon took their toll. Within minutes she was asleep.

There's nothing worse than falling asleep during the late morning then waking, thoroughly confused. Jo looked around, her eyes finding the illuminated clock on the VCR. It was 3.30pm.

She wondered what had woken her.

"Hi, Jojo."

She sat up slowly, scrubbing her face with her hands, and putting her foot onto the plate with a half eaten sandwich on it.

"Dammit!" she cursed, leaning over the back of the sofa to the shelf, which held a box of tissues. "What do you want, Trixi?" she asked, wiping off the butter stuck to her heel, but never once looking at the woman sitting in the chair opposite her.

"Just wanted to see you," Trixi pouted. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

Jo sighed. "No, Trix. I thought I made myself clear." Jo threw the butter-covered tissue in the waste paper bin and took her cup and plate through to the kitchen. She found a dishwasher there, and put both the items into it.

Trixi had followed her into the kitchen and came up behind her, wrapping her arms about the tall woman's waist. She nuzzled Jo's neck, her hands moving up from her waist towards her breasts.

Jo turned in the blonde's embrace and found a hot mouth clamping itself on her own. She reached between them and found the blonde's hands, which were caressing her breasts through her sweatshirt. She forcefully pushed Trixi back, her hands taking a vice-like grip on the blonde's wrists. "I said no, Trix."

Dark brown eyes narrowed. "You got someone else to take care of you?" she asked, pulling her wrists from Jo's grasp.

Jo took a couple of steps back, her hands shaking, until she leaned against the counter top. She reached behind her to steady herself. "I no longer need what you can give me," she said steadily. If she could convince herself of the fact, she was sure she could convince Trixi.

The blonde took a couple of steps towards her, completely aware of the power she held over the beautiful woman. "Oh, but you do, Jojo." She reached up and hands traced Jo's clenched jaw. "Why so tense?" She pushed dark locks behind Jo's ear. "I can help you with that tension." She took a handful of dark hair and pulled Jo's head towards her, kissing her roughly and biting her bottom lip as she pulled back. She pushed Jo back as the tall woman put her hand to her mouth, staring dumbly at the blood she saw on her fingers. "Call me when you grow up, Jo. I'll be waiting."

When Jo looked up Trixi was gone. She heard the door slam, and then the sound of a car driving away. Almost in a daze she went downstairs to the security box by the front door and opened it. She changed the entry code, and tested it. Then she went back upstairs and poured herself another large drink.

In another part of London, in a derelict factory, a lone woman watched the small fire she'd built. She'd managed to build a small lean-to with a large piece of panelling. The snow drifted through the ruined roof and threatened the flickering flames.

Rocky fed some more of the wood she had found around and about the structure.

There were some more people there, too intent on their own survival in the sub-zero temperatures to worry about who else was about.

The blonde looked up, wondering if she had really just heard her name called.

"Rocky? Are you in here?"

Rocky stood, looking into the darkness at the hunched figure stumbling across the debris towards her. "Edna?" She met the old woman half way, helping her across the fallen walls and ceiling to her little patch of cleared floor. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you in the hostel?"

Edna eased herself onto the floor, warming her hands on Rocky's small fire.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said indignantly.

"You need to be inside tonight," said Rocky, plumping herself down beside her friend.

"So do you, Rocky."

Rocky looked away, finding the fire more interesting than her friend. "You know I can't go to those places."

"Well, if you're going to stay here, so am I."

"Edna," Rocky warned, giving her a sideways glance.

The old woman held her hands up. "They're keeping a place for me at the hostel. I have to be in before midnight." She nudged the grumpy blonde's arm. "Like Cinders."

Rocky turned her attention back to the fire. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"Jo."

Rocky shrugged. "Nothing to tell."

"Hey." Edna reached over with a gloved hand and turned the young woman's face towards her. "This is me you're talking to."

Rocky looked at the woman for long moments, wondering whether she could divulge the thoughts that had refused to leave her during the last couple of days.

"Tell me what you feel when you see her."

Rocky closed her eyes, picturing the tall elegance, the blue eyes. She felt a tingle on the back of her neck as the image was formed in her mind's eye. "Comfort," she said, simply. Her forehead creased into a frown. "Why is that?" She shook her head in wonder. "I don't know her."

Edna opened her mouth to disagree.

"Yeah, I know," said Rocky. "You tell me I already know her."

"How else can you explain the feelings you have?"

Rocky pulled her coat a little tighter around her cold body. "I can't; you know that."

"So... what do you want to do when you see her?"

Rocky turned towards Edna and smiled, then blushed. "I want to hold her. But something tells me I shouldn't. I've never thought about loving a woman, Edna. I've never thought about love, not since..."

"Go on." Edna had never pressed Rocky to tell of the circumstances that drove her to the hell that was her life now.

Rocky shook her head. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Edna patted the hand that was close to her own. "That's alright, sweetheart. Most of us out here have our secrets. One day you'll find someone you feel you can tell them to."

"I'm sorry, Edna." Tears now coursed down the strained face, and the old woman pulled Rocky into her arms. "She makes me feel again." Edna had to strain to hear the whispered voice. "And I'm scared that all the feelings will come back, the bad ones I've fought so long to forget."

"But if they do, she'll be strong enough to help you with them."

Rocky pulled herself out of the frail embrace. "How do you know that?"

"How did I know to be at Victoria Station the day you arrived in London? There are many things I know, Rocky. But I don't know why I know. Some call it a gift. I see in that woman a great strength, the same as I've always seen the beauty in your soul. Somehow, against many odds, she has found you." She wiped away the tears that were flowing unabated from green eyes. "She didn't know she was looking for you, but now her life won't be complete without you."

"I can't believe that." Rocky wiped her face with a dirty sleeve. "She's wealthy. She doesn't need me. She looks like she's never needed anything in her life."

"Up until a couple of days ago, she didn't. You, on the other hand, have always needed her. You just didn't have a face to picture in your dreams."

Rocky held her head in her hands. "I don't know what to do, Edna."

Edna put a bony finger beneath the blonde's chin. "You must do what your heart says is right. You must learn to feel again, to love again. Stop punishing yourself." Edna smiled, seeing the outraged look once again. "I know."

"No you don't!" Rocky stood, and stepped a few paces away. "You don't know. You don't know what he did. What he took from me." She walked back and towered over Edna. "I couldn't stop him." She collapsed to her knees next to the old woman, who gathered the weeping woman into her arms again.

"Sshh," Edna whispered. "Tomorrow, you will see Jo. Don't fight your feelings. You can't let the past rule your future. You must learn to trust again. You must learn to trust your heart, and the person who wants to hold your heart." She looked up through the ruined roof of the derelict factory, to see the moon peeking from behind the snow clouds. She would soon have to leave the girl she thought of as a daughter to the cold of the night. But for the moment she would stay, content in the knowledge that this beautiful soul she held in her arms was about to find her destiny.

Jo woke with a start, and discovered that spending the night on a sofa that was two feet shorter than you was not a good idea. Her left shoulder screamed at her, as did her neck. The fire was still on, and her mouth, as a consequence, was dry. She stumbled into the kitchen, pulling a carton of orange juice from the fridge, and grimaced as she bumped her wounded bottom lip as she drank directly from the carton.

She went back into the lounge and peered through the darkness at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was just after 5am. She'd been asleep on the sofa since the previous evening. The heating was still on, so she made her way upstairs to the bathroom and started the water running. A shower wouldn't do on this occasion, she needed a bath. She needed a long bath, with some of the Body Shop's very own aromatherapy oils added to it.

Well over an hour later she eased herself out of the bath and, pulling on her towelling robe, she went back down to the lounge, plumping herself down on the sofa just as the phone rang.

She started to reach for the noisy instrument, and suddenly realised just who would be calling her at such an early hour. Her hand shook as she picked up the phone, the sudden silence ringing in her ears.

"Hello?" She waited for what seemed like an eternity, listening to soft breathing. She knew who it was. "Rocky?"

"Um, hi."

"Are you alright, is anything wrong?"

"No, I'm fine... Did I wake you? I forgot how early it was."

"No, I've been up about an hour. How about you?"

"I've been up a while."

There was silence for a long moment.

"Jo, I need to see you."

Jo's mouth suddenly lost the ability to produce coherent sound. Instead she made a vague croaking noise, which caused her caller some alarm.

"Jo?"

"I'm here," she said, after clearing her throat.

"There's a cafe, not far from the park. It's called Mario's. Can you meet me there?"

"Of course I can. When?"

"As soon as you like."

"I'll be there in half an hour."

"Ok, I'll be outside."

"Rocky..." Jo began, but pulled the phone away from her ear when she heard the dialling tone. Rocky had hung up.

She placed the handset gently back in its cradle and stared at it as if it was about to burst into flames. The she remembered she would need to dress before venturing out into the elements.

Jo found the cafe quite easily, and drove slowly past, trying to see in through the grubby window. She couldn't see Rocky, but quickly dismissed the fact and went in search of a parking space. With it being so early, she found a space relatively easily in a side street, not even having to pay a fee.

She pushed her hands into the pockets of her short leather jacket, pleased that she was finally meeting Rocky in a place that hopefully wouldn't require thermal clothing. She stood outside the cafe, and looked up and down the street, seeing no sign of the blonde.

And then suddenly she was there.

"Good morning," said Rocky softly, dropping her bags onto the pavement beside Jo.

If Jo was startled, she hid it well. She bent and picked up one of Rocky's large bags. "You ready for breakfast?"

Jo didn't wait for an answer but headed into the dingy cafe, glancing back once to make sure the blonde was following her in.

Inside Mario's was almost as grubby as the outside, and it bore no comparison to the trendy Italian eateries that Jo frequented. In fact the name was the only Italian thing about the place. There were about a dozen small tables, just over half of them occupied. Most of the customers looked like early workers, truck drivers, and factory workers stopping off for breakfast on their way to their place of work. Jo took the bag to a table in the corner and placed it on one of the four plain wooden chairs that surrounded it. Rocky had followed her in and put the bag she was carrying on the floor beneath the table.

"What do you fancy then?" Jo asked, eyeing the menu, which was on a blackboard behind the counter. "Do you want the full breakfast?" She read the list: bacon, egg, fried bread, tomato, sausages. She turned to Rocky who was easing herself into one of the chairs.

"I'll just have some toast and some tea," Rocky said quietly.

Jo turned towards the seated woman, the tired voice suddenly becoming apparent to her.

"Hey, you ok?" she asked, sitting in the opposite chair, and ducking her head to see into the bowed face of the blonde.

"I'm fine, just tired," Rocky said, not looking up.

"Let me get you something substantial to eat. Just this once." She ducked her head again, reaching across and tapping the table just in front of Rocky. "Please?"

Rocky looked up, and once again revelled in the soft blue gaze. "Ok," her mouth said. Her brain, on the other hand, was trying to come to terms with the emotions that blue gaze evoked.