Page 39 of The Vanishing Bookstore
Dora laughed. ‘You do? Are you a little scared of all women?’
He shook his head, and his voice was much deeper when he spoke. ‘Of course not, there are only two women in this world who scare me, and who I will never, ever, cross.’
‘Who’s the other one?’
‘Your Aunt Lenny, I find her terrifying.’
A teenage boy ambled over with a tray bearing pancakes and another horrible mug of coffee, placing it on the table. Ambrose pushed the plate in front of Dora.
‘Get you guys anything else?’
Ambrose shook his head. ‘Nope, we’re good for now thanks.’
He waited until the boy was behind the counter again, but it was Dora who spoke.
‘You know my Aunt Lenny even though we’ve lived in London for as long as I can remember?’
He lowered his eyes, then, lifting his mug, he took a sip of his coffee as if trying to find the right words.
‘I guess this is all a bit of a shock to you this time, Sephy told me that you were struggling to remember. It’s weird, right? I mean, who knows why some of us just keep living again and again while others don’t.’
Dora felt a sharp pain in the side of her temple as it began to throb and she lifted two fingers to massage it.
‘Do you not have any memories?’ He looked confused. Dora shook her head ‘Wow. You don’t remember, say, long walks in the forests picking wild strawberries with me on the Fourth of July?’ Dora shook her head. ‘The ring I gave you last time, with the black crystals around the sides? The first time I saw you at the wharf and I had to pay some kid to take me to your house on the common?’
Dora found the sound of Ambrose’s voice mesmerising; she could listen to him talk all day. But she was sad to have forgotten such things. She felt jealous that he remembered her, and the many lives they’d spent together. She felt suddenly sad. If what her aunts and mother had said was to be believed, they would never grow old together.
‘And to top it off, as far as I know my entire life has been one big lie. I’m a florist, I own a flower shop that sells beautiful bouquets for birthdays and anniversaries. I’m no witch, as far as I know I didn’t drown in a pond or get burned at the stake. I didn’t have to flee for my life across muddy fields and through dense forests where brambles tore at my flesh.’ She laughed lightly.
His eyes locked with Dora’s. ‘None of them were burned at the stake over here or dunked then drowned in a pond. The Europeans were far more brutal than the Puritans, who were plain crazy. Over here victims were tortured and hanged – apart from poor Giles who was pressed to death. That was horrific, but he never gave in, he wouldn’t confess and give them what they wanted, all he kept saying was, “More weight.” I don’t know how he found the strength, but he did. And are you absolutely sure about that?’
Ambrose pointed to the tangle of tiny scars on her wrists and forearms peeking from below the long sleeves of her sweater.They had always been there, so old they were barely visible, tiny threads of silver running through her soft pale skin like minute rivers.
‘How did you get those?’
She looked down, tugging down the sleeves of her sweater, and shrugged.
‘I don’t know, probably when I was a kid playing in places I shouldn’t have been. I was always trying to pick pretty flowers to take home for Lenny. They’ve just always been there, I’ve never really thought about how they got there.’
He nodded and leaned closer to her. She could smell his cologne, it was subtle, a hint of citrus and jasmine, as he whispered, ‘I was there when you got those. I bathed your torn, bleeding arms with salt water once we were in the safety of the boat out in the bay. We huddled together in the darkness, listening to the hounds as they trailed after us through the woods.’
Dora pulled away from him and stared. ‘I don’t believe you. How could you have been in my past life that I have no knowledge about?’
She pushed her chair back and stood up fast. As she walked past him, he reached out for her arm and a jolt of electricity so intense ran up her arm she thought he’d Tasered her. Ambrose jerked his hand back, letting go, clearly feeling the shock too.
‘I’m sorry Dora, I would never?—’
She didn’t listen to him, and as she walked away the smell of burning tinged the air and her skin tingled where his fingers had touched her.
23
Dora decided to walk back to the house. She was feeling more confused and alone than ever. She realised that she needed a phone and hers was out of bounds, she had to call Katie to see how things were, so she wandered back to the bustling, pedestrianised part of Essex Street, and saw the red-brick building of Witch City Mall. There were a group of little kids splashing in the water feature out the front, their teacher looking as if he was having a nervous breakdown. She gave him a smile of commiseration and went inside to see if there was a phone shop she could buy a basic model from until she got back home. There was a small shop in the corner with an assortment of phone cases in the window, lots of glittery ones, most of them with silhouetted black witches on. Dora sighed; she had just about had enough of flipping witches, they were everywhere. She glanced down at her arm where Ambrose had touched her to see what looked like small red burns where his fingertips had brushed her skin. Inside the shop there was a huge guy squeezed behind the too-small counter, looking down at a phone.
‘Hey, what’s up?’
She wondered if that was the official Salem greeting.
‘Hey, I need a basic phone to use until I go home. Do you have any cheap ones for sale?’
