Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (4 page)

Erin stuck out his bottom lip. “You
say ain’t all the time.”

“I’m allowed. And don’t be lippy.”

Erin pulled a face but didn’t argue
further.

“Right then,” Flo said. “Who wants
some chocolate cake and a cuppa? Made the cake especially for you girls.”

“That would be fantastic,” Rose
said.

“A slice of cake would hit the
spot.” Faye said.

“Come on then.” Flo clapped her
hands together once and led them out of the room. “That’s my room.” She pointed
to a closed door next to Rose’s room. “That’s Erin’s room and that’s Roman’s
there. The bathroom is the last door there or the first door if you’re coming
up the stairs. There’s another loo downstairs but only the one bathroom for us
all to share. Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem.” Rose replied.  The
way she saw it she was sharing it with Flo and two boys and boys were
definitely not known for hogging the bathroom. 

Flo stopped at the top of the
stairs adjusting a picture on the wall. “This house was left to me by my late
husband Charlie, God bless him. His dad passed it to him and his granddad had
passed it to his dad. It’s been in his family for years. Now Erin and me are
looking after it. Still can’t believe little old me lives in a house like
this!” She chuckled. “It’s all paid for, Charlie made sure we would be all
right.” Flo paused for a moment and then smiled. “He’d have loved this. He
loved people coming over. My gawd he’d get the bleedin’ booze and music flowing
for anyone. He loved a party, any excuse to celebrate. Out came his banjo. That
thing drove me bleedin’ crackers!” She laughed.

Rose knew that Flo would probably
give anything to hear him play it again. Her dad had told her all about Flo and
Charlie, talking about them when he had returned from Charlie’s funeral six
years ago.

Flo and Charlie had been childhood
sweethearts, the epitome of soul mates. They had married young and soon
discovered they couldn’t have children.  They had adopted Roman as a baby just
before Violet, Rose’s mother, had moved to Derbyshire to work for an up and
coming gallery. It was in Derbyshire that Violet had met and married Rose’s
father in a whirlwind romance. Flo had given her an ear full for not inviting
her to the wedding, but had soon softened when she had realised just how in
love Violet was.  It wasn’t long after that Rose’s mother succumbed to the
illness that took her away from reality.  One blow was followed by another–
when the doctors had informed her father that her mother was pregnant.  It had
been Flo who had been a source of comfort for her father in those days; making
regular trips to help with Violet.  Aaron had given her the title of godmother,
knowing it was what his wife would want.

Erin was the miracle baby Flo
thought she would never conceive, but the joy of his birth had been followed a
year later by the death of his father.

“Roman’s just like him,” Flo looked
slightly wistful.

Roman, Flo and Charlie’s eldest and
adopted son, would have been sixteen when Charlie passed away.

Flo led them downstairs. “Roman
actually did the painting in ya room. He’s quite handy with a paintbrush. I was
bleedin’ shocked!”

“Where is he tonight?” Rose asked.

If she was honest, she was a little
nervous about meeting the infamous Roman.  Flo seemed to think the sun shone
out of his backside, the perfect son, handsome, talented and hardworking. 
Personally, Rose didn’t believe anyone could be that perfect and she had a
feeling that as a rule, mothers probably viewed their offspring through
rose-tinted spectacles.  She’d only met him briefly once and had spent the rest
of the time hiding in her room.  Just showed how much things had changed. 
There would be very little, if anything, that would coerce her to hide in her
room these days. She wasn’t into avoidance as a dealing tactic. She preferred
the more direct, in your face approach. 

Flo’s voice brought her out of her
reverie. “He’s been on holiday with his mates. Gawd knows what time he’ll be
back, sometime tomorrow. You’ll see him then, and his mates.” She led them down
the hall and into an open plan dining room and kitchen, complete with a large
dining table and pink and yellow walls. She gestured toward a wooden door in
the far right corner, “That door there is the basement. Well, it’s actually a
den now. Roman and his mates practically live down there, well apart from two
but X-Box ain’t for everyone is it?”

“Damon is so boring,” Erin said.

Flo gave him a stern look. “Don’t
be rude.”

Erin turned his attention to Rose.
“I’ve got an X-Box. You wanna see it?”

“In a little while,” Rose said.

“What about you?” He turned to Faye
expectantly

Flo gave an exasperated sigh. “Stop
going on, Erin.”

Erin huffed and said no more, his
arms firmly crossed.

“Come and sit in the living room
and I’ll bring in the bits. It’s more comfy in there,” said Flo ushering them
in. 

Comfy was an understatement as far
as Rose was concerned.  The living room was decorated in floral wallpaper and a
thick red carpet, a pink and white, floral-patterned sofa and two matching arm
chairs. The walls were covered with more shelves like the hallway, and
cabinets. Trinkets and teddy bears filled every bit of space on and in them.
There was an old-fashioned drinks cabinet, a big television, a coffee table
with women’s weekly magazines on it, an X-Box and a DVD player. One of the
armchairs was obviously reserved purely for Flo– it had a small table next to
it with a china mug with the words ‘World’s Best Mum’ written on it in big pink
letters. The whole effect screamed, “Come on, plonk your bum on these and mong
out!” Rose could seriously visualise herself doing just that.

Her shoulders relaxed, her body
seemed to melt as she sank onto the larger sofa.  It was scary how at home she
felt already.

Flo set down a tray of cake and
mugs of tea. “Either of you smoke?”

“No,” Rose said.

Faye shook her head.

“I don’t smoke in the house, won’t
have it. But I do enjoy a ciggie. I won’t be having one yet ‘til I’ve finished
me cake. But I thought I’d clear that up first. Filthy habit but we all have a
vice don’t we?”

“Chocolate.” Faye said.

Flo chuckled. “Right, let’s dig
into this cake and then we can talk about what we can do tomorrow. Oh, how you
getting to the house ya staying in, Faye? You getting the tube? It’s not far to
the station from here and we’ll walk ya to it. I just wish I had more room for
you here. I could try and find a way.” Her brow creased in thought.

Faye shook her head, smiling.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m quite excited about meeting my fellow tenants.” She
assured her. “And I’m getting a taxi. My dad’s got enough money for me to start
my own tab.”

Flo looked dubious.

“Trust me, she’s not joking,” Rose
said.

Flo chuckled lightly. “Okay then,
sweetheart. As long as you’ll be all right.”

Flo took a sip of her tea and
almost choked. “I forgot to put sugar in me bleedin’ tea!”

The next day Rose awoke early and
spent a happy hour unpacking properly and putting a few of her personal
ornaments about the room.  She stopped when she came to a picture of her
mother.  It had been taken before she had fallen sick, in a time when she was
full of life and her eyes sparkled with intelligence. She was seated on the
porch, a mug in one hand and the cat sprawled on her lap.  Her dad said the cat
had left one day and never come back. A wry smile twisted her lips. At least
she had this tiny glimpse into her mother’s life before…she shook her head,
retrieving the only other picture she had brought with her.  This one was of
her and her dad. It had been taken by Flo a few years ago. It was summer time
and they were sprawled on the grass having just finished a grass fight.  She
smiled at the memory. 

Arranging the pictures side by side
on her bedside table, she sighed. It was a shame that there weren’t more
pictures of her mother and father together. The fire had seen to that. The fire
her mother had accidentally set when her illness had first manifested itself.
The kitchen and most of the bottom floor had been incinerated. The picture of
her mother and the cat had survived as it had been one that lived on the second
floor.  She was grateful for it. She was grateful to be here and she was
grateful to Flo for giving her a home.

Rose, Faye, Flo and Erin spent the
rest of the Saturday exploring the sites of London. They went to famous
locations such as Buckingham Palace, Houses of Parliament, Trafalgar Square and
the London Eye. Flo also showed them the gym in Soho where Rose would start
work on the Monday morning, and then took them all to lunch. After that they
paid a visit to Brick Lane, Erin found a pet shop selling exotic animals and
Flo had a hard time trying to pry him off of a tank that housed a large python.

After a walk along the Thames they hopped back on the tube and made their way back to Flo’s house. Flo put the
kettle on as soon as they were indoors, after which they all proceeded to
collapse onto the sofa.

Flo sprawled on the armchair, hand
on heaving chest. “I’m bleedin’ knackered.”

After three cups of tea to aid
their recovery, Faye said her goodbyes and left, eager to try and bond with her
new housemates at the house in Bethnal Green.

Flo, much recovered, busied herself
in the kitchen preparing a meal while Erin played on the X-Box in the living
room. Rose sat at the dining table, talking to Flo who was chopping an onion,
tea towel thrown over her shoulder.

“She’s a lovely girl,” Flo said.

“She’s an amazing friend,” Rose
said. “Faye is my rock in many respects.”

“Aw, that’s lovely to hear. I’m
glad you’ve got someone like her in your life to look out for ya, to be there
and all that. It’s lovely.”

Rose smiled.

Flo placed the onions into a frying
pan and poked at them with a wooden spoon. “You all right, darling?” she asked.
“It’s a lot to deal with, the stuff with ya mum. I think you and your dad are
so strong…” she stopped. “Sorry, I know you probably don’t wanna talk about
this.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m all right.
I love my mum and dad but I need to take my life by the balls and live it, you
know?”

“Well said, darling. You’re a young
woman. You need to get out into this big wide world and enjoy it while you can.
How was your dad when you called him last night?”

“He was okay, a bit quiet.”

“He’s a dad. Dads always struggle
when their little girls become women.”

Rose laughed. “Really?”

“Absolutely. And I’ll be the same
with Erin. He could be fifty and I’d still see him as me little boy.”

“I’m sure he’d love that.”

“Can’t wait for when he’s eighteen.
I’ve got so many baby pictures to embarrass him with.”

 “Now that will be a sight.” Rose
could just imagine Erin standing arms crossed, as his mother brought out the
photo albums. “So, how many are coming for dinner tonight?”

Flo dragged her attention away from
the potatoes on boil. “Well there will be me, you, Erin, Roman and his four
mates.”

“How is Roman? Is he back from his
holiday?”

“Yeah, he got in this morning. He
sent me a text. Not a bleedin’ phone call, a text.” She shook her head trying
to look put out but didn’t quite manage it– there was more than a hint of
affection in her voice to pull it off. “But there ya go. Anyway, I think he’s
looking forward to going back to work on Monday. Him and them old cars, he does
love getting them up and running though, and Harold keeps ‘im company. Them two
come in covered in grease most nights. The grey bar of soap and the nail brush
in the bathroom are his and there’s a spare set that Harold uses when he’s over
for dinner.” Flo smiled to herself. “Bless ‘em. They do work hard.” She turned
down the heat on the potatoes. “He’s got a lovely group of mates. You’ll really
like them. It’ll be nice to sit around and chat at the dinner table.”

“Do they come over a lot?” Rose
asked hesitantly, imagining a house full of leery blokes.  Not that she had any
right to complain, she’d just learn to make herself scarce if they bothered
her.

Flo chuckled. “All the time and
with bellies like bottomless pits. They do like their food. They’re an active
bunch though so they never put anything on. Lucky gits! My Shepherd’s Pie is
their favourite, or so they tell me.” She glanced up at Rose, noting her
slightly wary expression. “You’ll really like them.” She reassured.

“I’m sure I will.” Well she was
damn well going to try.  This was going to be her home now too, so she might as
well get used to the routine. “Smells great.” She changed the subject, sniffing
the air appreciatively.

“Thanks, luv.”

Erin’s shouts cut through the
serenity. “NO! NO! NO!” There was a crash.

“Erin!” Flo stood hands on hips.

Erin came skulking into the
kitchen.  His face was red with anger “This stupid bloody game!” 

“Don’t you dare swear in my house!”
Flo yelled. “And don’t slam that controller on me coffee table!’

“You say bloody all the time,” said
Erin matter-of-factly. “And anyway, bloody ain’t swearing.”

“I will do as I please. This is my
house and it’s my rules. And bloody is bloody swearing. And its ‘isn’t’ not
‘ain’t’ remember?”

“You’ve just said it twice!” Erin cried in exasperation.

“I’ll have none of your lip. I’ll
take the bleedin’ game away from ya if ya gonna be like that.”

Erin huffed and stormed out of the
kitchen.

“Bloody kids. Sorry, luv,” Flo
said.

Rose bit back her laughter. “It’s
okay, really.”

“I’ll apologise now for the rows to
come.”

“They’re just a part of life.
That’s what family is I guess.”

“I have to agree with you there.” 
Flo finished draining the potatoes.