The Other Side Of Midnight

“Thanks for letting me sleep here. I was so tired last night.”

“It was the tea. A sedative concoction I made. You needed it.”

I nod blankly. “Yes. I suppose I kinda lost it last night.”

“Go to work now, child, then go up the mountain to paint. Work will occupy your mind and keep the pain away.”

I stand and look at her. “Thanks again, Zelena. I feel a bit better this morning. It was the shock. It made me go crazy.” I scratch my head. “I was in such a state I think I even kneed Joe last night.”

She smiles. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m off.”

“Take care of yourself, little one.”

I go back to my caravan. The first thing I see is the box of organic cereal. I swallow hard and rush to the shower. I get ready as fast as I can and walk to work. When I get to work Larry is already there. He is actually moving the vacuum cleaner around. I stare at him with astonishment. It is immediately clear he has never vacuumed anything in his life, and he looks ill at ease and to be honest quite ridiculous.

“What are you doing here?” I shout above the noise.

He starts and tries to switch off the vacuum, but fails to find the button. I walk up to him and turn it off. The room falls strangely silent.

“Uh, I didn’t know if you would be coming in today in light of…” he trails off uncomfortably.

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Work will do me good.”

He steps back awkwardly. “I’ll be… er… upstairs if you need me.” He takes a few steps away from me, then turns back. “I’m really sorry for your loss, Autumn.”

I bite my lower lip so hard it hurts, and I nod. No words are possible. I realize then that pity is the worst thing for me. Zelena is right. I’ve got to work, keep my hands and mind occupied at all times. I walk to the vacuum cleaner and switch it on. I see the box with the green dress in the backroom and it hurts, but I deliberately walk towards it and carefully put it away into the backroom cupboard where my painting of the castle is.

Then I carry on cleaning. I clean and clean, stopping only to call Rocco’s number at about ten thirty. He doesn’t answer so I leave a message that I will be driving up to see him after work to paint him. Then I find other things to do right through lunch. The afternoon is easier. Two customers and an artist comes in and it keeps me busy.

As I am closing up, Raoul walks in. He nods silently, and I nod back. I follow him out silently, and he drives me up the mountain. At the place where Sam and I hung over the edge, I feel a terrible sense of loss. I squeeze my eyes shut and think of something different.

William opens the door for me. “Good evening, Miss Delaney.”

“Good evening, William.”

“The Count is waiting for you.”

He takes me to the room where Isadora had offered me wine. Rocco looks at me, and it is unbearable to see pity shining in his beautiful eyes. I guess Larry must have told him when Raoul found me gone from the gallery yesterday.

“I’m so sorry, Autumn,” he says softly.

“Yes, I’m sorry too.” My voice breaks, and I have to swallow the hard ball of pain in my throat. I want to run to him and let him hold me, but I’m afraid. I know I can’t use him as my crutch. I know he doesn’t belong to me. “Can we… can we… get on with the painting?”

“Autumn, I know you’re grieving, but we really need to talk. It’s important. You need to know.”

I run to him and throw my palm across his mouth. “Please, Rocco. Don’t. Not yet. I’m already so broken, I just couldn’t take another blow. Not yet. Just let me finish my painting, and then I promise, I’ll hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, Autumn, I would have given everything I own to protect you from this pain.”

“Don’t pity me, Rocco. Please. Just let me paint you. I need to occupy my hands and mind. Otherwise, I fear I will go mad with fury and sorrow.”

“Would you like some food first?” he asks gently.

I shake my head. “No.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

I realize I haven’t eaten all day. The last thing I ate was yesterday, part of a burger. And yet I do not feel hungry.

“You must eat something,” Rocco insists.

“I’m not hungry,” I protest.

Gently, his fingers touch the thin skin under my eyes. “Either you eat or you do not paint.”

I nod. The whole world seems alien to me. All day I have been waiting for her to call me. Tears fill my eyes and run down his fingers. A look of terrible sadness crosses his eyes.