Alice

The harvest moon hid behind a cloud as Alice pushed the car door open with her foot. It was a routine she had adopted when she didn’t have a spare hand. She tried to keep her black Honda clean but there was always a footprint on the door. A shiver crossed her path as she wandered to the top of the stairs. The sea roared beneath her. A deep breath of salty air filled her lungs and the wind caressed her pale face. The moon continued to play hide and seek with her as she hurried across the bridge. Her arms ached from carrying the heavy package and she juggled the weight from side to side. Ahead was a deep oak door with iron cast fingers spread on one side. Tiny purple heads of muscari swung and gently bashed against one another at its feet. There was a large hurricane lamp anchored to the floor that housed a fat cream candle; the flame flickered slightly but never ceased. Alice fumbled with the rusty bolt and lock until the door creaked open. Once she was safely inside she offloaded the package onto a nearby sofa that squealed in protest. She shrugged her faded black tops onto the thick hessian carpet and re adjusted her worn woollen cardigan. She assessed herself in the huge silver mirror and pushed a stray piece of blonde behind her ear and rubbed at the dark semi-circles under her sapphires. She could hear the low growl of a voice in the kitchen as she pulled one of her dark blood socks up. A slow smile crept across her face as she remembered yesterday’s events and even though it had been a whole day since – she had spent most of it at work. Any time she could have had to relive it all was taken by customers wanting to know how much or how big or how small or how good. Most days she would snap back with a sarcastic comment but today she had gone along with the charade and even felt better for it. Her eyes were sore and achy from lack of sleep but again this was no bother. Alice felt suddenly shy as she stepped into the kitchen and followed the pattern on the faded slate tiles. She pulled the duck egg blue door of the fridge open and helped herself to a bottle of Bollinger. She took her time when preparing the glass, remembering to coat the top with sugar and slice a strawberry to sit on the lip.“Work?” His silver eyes glittered dangerously as he took the glass from her hand and sipped.
“Done.” She locked onto him.
“You wouldn’t believe how glad I am.” He smirked, winding her tendril of blonde around his finger.