The Lost Souls Dating Agency (8 page)

‘What, like presents?' I asked. The disbelief must have shown clearly on my face because he gave me a wry smile.

‘Something like that. They are objects to ask her to forgive me.'

‘Forgive you for what?'

‘For being who I am, or rather what I am,' he replied flatly.

Had he told her he was a vampire? Eyebrows knotted, I asked solemnly as I sat down on the sofa beside him. ‘Victor, what happened exactly?'

I was afraid to know what came next.

He told me everything.

Fiona and Victor had been at a pub on Flinders Lane in the city. He had gone to the bar to buy Fiona cider when he saw an unexpected visitor sit down at their table. Victor knew instantly that this was no ordinary guest. It was another vampire. He was attracted by Victor's scent that lingered around Fiona.

‘I knew in that instant that Fiona was in danger,' Victor said gravely.

I nodded but remained silent.

Victor continued, ‘We chatted uncomfortably until Fiona excused herself to go to the bathroom. I took my chance and seized him by the arm and walked into the dimly lit laneway outside the pub.' His expression remained steely. ‘He wanted to know why she was being protected by a vampire as old as me…that my scent combined with hers made her intoxicating…' I saw Victor's violet eyes change colour immediately to cold hard silver. ‘He then invited me to join him in his feast,' Victor spat the words out.

‘What happened next?' I barely whispered.

‘I picked him up by the chest, slammed him to the ground and ripped his heart out.' Victor did not even flinch as he said this.

I gasped and my eyes widened in fear. Victor looked at me. ‘That was exactly the way
she
looked when she found us.'

‘Fiona found you?' My voice rose an octave higher.

Victor nodded. ‘His body started to deteriorate immediately, as ours does, and she watched in horror as he slowly melted into a putrid sludge of blood and organs.' I thought I was going to be sick. Victor continued matter-of-factly, ‘He had left me with a gash on my right arm, which started to heal. The exposed tendons disappeared under the fresh growth of my skin. I saw the unmistakable look of fear in her eyes.' Victor looked up and Fiona's horror was mirrored by his own expression. ‘And then she realised what kind of monster I really am.' He looked away as he said this.

We both remained silent for a while.

‘What are you going to do?' I asked hesitantly. I sensed he was hurting, but I didn't know where to begin to help him.

‘You saw the beginnings of my plan last night,' he answered.

‘The letterbox?' I should have guessed!

‘In it I will place an item daily, to tell her everything about myself and what she means to me. I should have done this each day I had with her. Every thought I did not share, every part of myself I hid from her I will place there, for her safekeeping or utter disregard. The decision is hers. I promised in the note I left last night that I will contact her in no other way.'

My expression must have softened, because Victor looked at me and smiled sadly. ‘I know it's hard to believe that my kind can love…' There was a considerable pause after he admitted this, and both of us remained quite still. His voice broke the silence. ‘The more time I spend with Fiona, the more I start to
feel
. It's strange, this sensation. I hear her tinkling laugh in my head at the most unexpected times. I feel no need to play the usual games, since she has always been completely honest with me. Her face is an open book. In any case, her blushes gave her away too quickly…' Victor stopped. I felt like an unwanted interloper into his thoughts and was quiet.

He continued with a smile, as if remembering something amusing, ‘I even invented new ways of dating Fiona, those that involved minimal ingestion of food. I can eat tiny amounts, but it always feels like I'm chewing mud.' He frowned in disgust. ‘I spend many hours afterwards being sick. Unfortunately, human dating involves taking the lady numerous times to dinner. So I gallantly aspired to stick to tradition.'

‘Victor that's very decent of you —'

‘Decency has very little to do with it, Shaleenee. Lately, my blood transfusions have doubled. My thirst is stronger and I find it harder to control myself. It started as soon as I saw Fiona, and reached its zenith almost every night I said goodbye to her. The first time she leaned in for a kiss, I wanted to grab her and…' He stopped abruptly and his hands shot to his mouth. But it was too late, in that instant I saw the delicate, sharp points flashing piercingly. ‘I'm sorry. Sometimes it's involuntary,' he said through his hands.

I stared open-mouthed at his elongated, curved teeth. I saw them silently retract into his mouth. His stood up from the sofa. ‘I must take your leave. Thank you for your services thus far.' He made a move to go, but I reached out and stopped him. It was the first time I had touched him, and his arm felt cold in my hand. I let go quickly.

‘Victor, I'm still going to help you as much as I can,' I said with hope in my eyes. I saw none returned in his.

‘I'm afraid there's no hope for me now,' he said quietly and walked out of the office. I heard a light whoosh and in an instant, he was gone.

I totally disagreed with Victor. I
knew
there was hope. I also knew this hope lay with Fiona. It was time to visit her. This time I would not prowl about her house.

I knocked on her door the next evening, when I knew she would be home from work. There was no answer. I waited for a few minutes and knocked again.

‘Fiona, it's Shalini,' I said loudly through the closed door. ‘I know you can hear me! I've come to talk about Victor.'

I waited.

A few moments later I heard footsteps and Fiona, the usually gentle, genial Fiona, opened the door and roared at me. ‘Did you know? Shalini, did you know?' Her voice cracked. She looked awful. Her hair was unkempt and she had dark circles around her eyes.

‘Listen, I know you will never understand. But he, he came to me for help,' I began.

‘For help?' she screeched loudly. I looked around and saw a neighbour discreetly peer through their living room curtains at us.

I lowered my voice. ‘I run a matchmaking agency for supernaturals. Victor hired me to find him a partner. Fiona, if you give him time, I know he is not what you think he is.'

‘Oh, so what kind of
thing
is he then?' She sounded hysterical.

‘Someone who wants the opportunity to love,' I said slowly. ‘Look I'm sorry for not telling you, but I wanted you to give him a chance. To still give him a chance…'

She put her head in her hands and started to sob uncontrollably. I felt supremely awful and reached out to her. She let me lead her indoors and we walked through to the living room. We sat on a large sofa. Half of its length was covered in piles of printed paper. It matched the cosy and cluttered room.

Slowly her sobs lessened and she managed to compose herself. ‘Shalini, how could you put me in this situation?'

The question was hard to answer. It raised all my old dilemmas. ‘In the beginning I was selfish and didn't think,' I began. How to explain that in my quest to assist supernatural love, I hadn't considered its effects on human hearts?

‘Never mind, I don't want to know,' Fiona said irately. She looked away from me entirely.

‘Look I'm sorry for the part I played in this, but I know he cares deeply for you.' Fiona continued to glance away from me. ‘Just look at the letterbox he left outside! Surely that's some indication of his…' Fiona's face shot around and she interrupted me.

‘How do you know about that? Can you see it?'

I cringed. I really didn't want to admit that I had followed her home the other night and watched or that I had spoken to Victor.

‘Yes, I can,' I said, trying to be as honest as I could without giving too much away.

‘That's strange,' she said with a confused expression. ‘I don't think anyone else can. The mailman doesn't leave any letters in it and no one even glances at it when they walk past. I saw a dog bark at it today and the owner dragged it away with an apologetic look. He couldn't see it!' She stood up and stared out of her living room window at the ivory box. I joined her. I wondered why I could see it. Maybe it was because I knew about Victor and his world?

‘Every day I hope it will disappear.' She looked away from the window. ‘But no, there it remains, a painfully steadfast reminder of
him
,' she said savagely. I was reminded of the hurt I had heard in Victor's voice.

I felt rotten leaving Fiona after our conversation. But I knew there was nothing more I could do. Victor would have to prove his love to her. He would have to win her back.

***

It was crunch time at uni, and my assignments were way overdue. I stumbled through classes. I'm sure my lecturers were concerned by my sudden lack of enthusiasm for subjects I had always shown such promise in. I found even my study time in the library was interrupted more and more by Will. Somehow, this year, it was harder to concentrate around him. We always found ourselves walking out and sitting on the grassy sunny patch outside the library. We were trying to catch the last of the autumn sun and it was always easier to converse and laugh in the fresh air outside, minus the stern looks we got from the librarians if we made too much noise. Will, I learnt, had a wicked sense of humour that closely matched mine. Megan and Neha teased me incessantly about him, but I knew we were only friends. And yet…

***

One rainy Saturday afternoon, almost a month after my meeting with Fiona, I decided to visit her again. This time, my reception was much more courteous and less weepy. She made me a cup of tea and led me to her bedroom. Laid out on her bed were all the “deliveries” she had received from Victor. Some were large, much larger than the letterbox itself. She told me it was like having her very own Tardis!

I looked around at the items on her bed. Collected together they made the air thick with Victor's personality, his life, his spirit. Fiona had eagerly read the books he had placed for her. They were old and rare, and perhaps quite valuable. She gently touched the bits of woven tapestry as she pointed them out to me. These she knew to be extremely precious, and kept them wrapped in special tissue she brought home from work. There were letters, and coins and knick knacks, a music box, a golden comb with Scythians in battle, a delicate necklace and Art Nouveau silver buttons.

Then there was his diary. It was sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a personal diary that Fiona had read with revulsion. She knew it was a glimpse into the dark shadows of his nature.

Finally she placed a small piece of weighty leather and a note in my hands.

‘This was in the letterbox today,' she said in a low voice.

I cautiously unwrapped the leather folds and a plain silver ring fell out. I carefully read the handwritten note.

A silver ring I forged many moons ago when I was filled with human hopes and desires. It is yours to keep, and comes with my gratitude, in allowing me to love.

I felt my eyes moisten.

I stood motionless and looked at Fiona. The expression on her face told me that she had made her decision. And I knew, from that moment onwards, it would change everything.

On Monday morning, after a lazy weekend, I walked into the warehouse and switched on the oil heater to take the chill out of the concrete icebox. Winter was fast approaching. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an envelope sitting on my desk. I looked at it questioningly. It was heavy and made of expensive stationery. Great, first newspapers and now fancy envelopes appeared out of nowhere in my office. I picked it up cautiously and opened it. A rectangular piece of paper flew lightly out and landed by my feet under the desk. When I bent to retrieve it, I glanced at it and let out a loud yelp. My head bounced against the heavy underside of the desk.
Ow!

It was a cheque signed by Victor Wareham. There was a two written neatly on it, followed by four, no, five zeros. I remained seated under my desk, quite frozen for the next few hours.

***

Two days later I was still in shock. I had rung Meagan and Neha immediately and told them about my change of fortune. Last night we had celebrated in proper style, with many magnums of champagne. I had lost count after three. My dull headache today reminded me how much we had celebrated.

I was laid out on the sofa in my office, contemplating moving, when I heard a whoosh in the room. I looked up to see Victor standing over me. I gave him a broad smile and jumped up from my repose.

‘I received your payment,' I began, ‘it's far too much.'

‘It is what your services deserve,' he said graciously.

I was grateful, but I knew my services had been less than professional.

‘We both know that this was my first case,' I said frankly. ‘There's no use pretending my methods were not without their faults.'

‘No there isn't.' Victor smiled. ‘Nonetheless, the end result was what I wanted.' He cleared his throat. ‘What I had hoped for.'

Did he look happy? Yes, he did. This was my first glimpse of Victor without his protective emotional shield.

‘That's great,' I said wholeheartedly.

He smiled pleasantly. His manner was easy and open, and much less formal. It made him seem like a different person, a different vampire.

‘Did the letterbox work?' I asked with a sly smile on my face. Of course I knew it had.

He smiled boyishly at me.

‘Tell me something, was it magic? Why did no one see it?' I asked because I wanted to know why I could see it.

He smiled mischievously. ‘I had friends who owed me a favour or two make it for me. Suffice to say these are no ordinary friends.'