The Girl Who Couldn'T See Rainbows

Chapter thirteen

Chapter thirteen

The next day I set out, like an aspiring sailor craving for adventures. I simply told Mrs Mc Millian that I was going to take the day off, and I answered her happy smile. The poor woman had probably considered my anxiety to return to work unnatural, and had blamed it on the shock of the terrible news I had received. I left it up to her to inform Mr Mc Laine. It wasn’t a burden for her; she assumed that he would agree to an afternoon off following my unexpected pain. He probably would be as angry as a bull in front of a red cloth, I thought mischievously. It was too bad for him. I wanted to visit the town, and since my arrival I hadn’t had the chance to do it.

I set off in good spirits, breathing in deeply the chilly and healthy air of that part of the world, surrounded by the strange and intriguing scents of flowers. Half an hour later I was near the village, and I could see the bell tower of the church.

It wasn’t very big, and I embraced it with a look, peaceful for the first time after years. I felt as though I owned the world, after a life of deprivation and sacrifices. Little did matter that it was just the fleeting effect of Sebastian Mc Laine's closeness.

I went down the hill, like a pirate about to conquer a treasure chest full of jewels. The first person I came across was old, probably over the age of seventy; she had a wrinkly face and dreamy air.

“Good morning, ma’am. Is there a shop around here? A haberdashery?” I gave her a polite smile.

She looked at me from head to toe, and I didn’t even doubt for a moment that she already knew my name.

“Of course, my dear. Go straight down. It's right next to the church. You can’t go wrong.”

I thanked her warmly, and I went on my way. Not many people were around, and those few who were studied me openly. I passed in front of a group of middle-aged women, and I greeted them. The muffled murmur that followed my passage didn’t surprise me, but the thought of how dull and depressing their lives must be for them to find such interest in a new person was indeed amazing. For me, to whom the beauty of colours was denied, everything was a discovery, even a simple field flower. For others, who had all their senses, only novelties counted.

The shop was right next to the church, and I stopped for a moment to peek inside. A young woman with a baby bump gave me a welcoming smile as she placed balls of wool on the counter. In the showcase, I could also see what was happening behind me. Several people stared at me, while the exchanged curious comments. To escape their gaze, I gratefully took refuge in the shop.

The woman smiled at me again cheerfully. “Good morning Miss. What can I do for you?”

“I was looking for some buttons,” I confessed. “And for a moment to catch my breath... I never liked being at the centre of general attention... And thank heavens it never happened to me before.”

Her smile widened. She held out her hand in a friendly manner. “I'm Tiffany Meadows. You must be Melisande Bruno.”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t know who I am?” I mumbled resentfully as I shook her hand.

The woman laughed warmly. “I'm afraid not. Ah, maybe there is someone. Paulie Matthews. She's been deaf for twenty years, and her daughter refuses to repeat things to her more than twice.”

I also laughed, perfectly at ease in the company of that nice woman.

“I already love Paulie Matthews. I hope you’ll forgive me, if at this moment, I wish they all were deaf. And maybe also blind,” I added, peering over my shoulders. The group of people had moved, crowding in front of the shop window, their eyes focused on me, like blinding lights.

Tiffany laughed again, sympathetically. “I can understand. I also have to bear their continuous curiosity.” She rubbed her belly. “I'm pregnant, as you can see. And I never revealed the father's name.”

She lowered her voice, her eyes glittering with amusement. “No, that’s not true. I’m married and faithful to my husband. But he works out of town, and comes home only once a month... The gossips always try to find targets, just to pass time... This place is so small that scandals are artfully created.”

“So much for the pleasant and cute village... It seems more like a snake pit...”

Tiffany shrugged slightly. “It is, believe me, Miss.”

“Call me Melisande,” I said, with a smile.

She lit up, as though I had given her a present. “Of course, thanks. I have no friends here, and meeting someone my age is... fantastic.”

“Aren’t there any young people?” I inquired, curious.

Her face darkened, I was afraid of being indiscreet. “There are,” she replied finally. “But as I told you, I'm frowned upon at the moment. Fortunately, this is the only haberdashery within a hundred miles, or else I would have to close the shop.”

In the meantime the murmur outside the store had grown louder, like a tide, and I was getting nervous.

“What’s going on? They don’t want lynch me, do they?” I joked half-heartedly.

Tiffany conspiringly winked at me. “No, they're just arguing to decide who will come in here.”

“Did I get that right? They’re arguing to decide who will come in here?” I asked calmly.

“Right. To spy on you, extort some information on you,” she explained quietly. “The store is small, they can’t all come in.”

“And they can’t assault me in the street” I finished for her. “Verbally, that is.”

“Well, actually...”

She was scaring me. “Well... what?”

She laughed, amused. “Sorry. I was just kidding you. Of course, just verbally.”

“Don’t play any more jokes on me,” I begged.

My eyes went back outside the shop window to observe the movements of those villagers, greedy for fresh news, especially about Sebastian Mc Laine, who had been locked up for years. Without warning, I saw the crowd drift and disperse.

“What happened?”

Before Tiffany could answer, I saw the door of the shop open wide, and the doorbell connected to it rang like a nightingale. Father Alan appeared on the threshold, impressive in his pastoral attire.

“Good morning, Miss Bruno. I’ve rescued you from the scheming curiosity of my parishioners. You’re free to continue your tour.”

I was extremely relieved by his intervention, even though I didn’t dare tell him.

“That was very kind of you, Father.”

He nodded, seriously. “It was my duty, Miss. The parishioners must be made to understand their shortcomings.” Then he looked at Tiffany. “How is your pregnancy going? It's everything okay?”

She nodded with her unfailing smile on her lips. “Yes, Father Alan. Thank you.”

I also looked at her, remembering the purpose of my visit. “Do you have some buttons? I lost one on my favourite blouse.” I showed her the garment to help her find a similar button.

She showed me her samples, and miraculously I found one that looked like the twin of the one I had lost, at least in the shape. Tiffany told me that even the colour was perfectly identical. I was forced to trust her words. I paid for it, and thanked her for her kindness.

“Come back to visit me soon”, she urged me, friendly. “Even just to chat.”

“I definitely will,” I promised, gratefully, and I turned to Father Alan, still standing in front of the door, his hands clasped behind his back. “It was nice seeing you again, father. I’ll try to come to Mass on Sunday.”

“I doubt Sebastian will let you. He’s such an unbeliever that he tries to convert his employees to the devil too...” The ferocity of his tone made me gape in surprise. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept silent. He opened the door and held it as I walked through the threshold. I was about to say goodbye when I realized he was coming out with me.

“Let's walk together, do you mind?”

Unable to refuse, I nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

The road was deserted, although when I looked up, I saw several heads peeking from behind the windows.

“Do you like Midnight Rose, Miss Bruno?” My companion began.

“Of course,” I said happily. “It's a beautiful place. After the smog, the frenzy, and the noise of London, this seems like paradise to me.”

“How mistaken you are, Miss,” he said severely.

I stared at him, waiting for explanations that he was happy to provide.

“My cousin... you must know that Sebastian and I are cousins​​...”

“I was told so, yes,” I confirmed.

“Well, my cousin has been a lion in a cage since the accident,” Father Alan said, walking at my side.

“It's understandable, isn’t it?” I pointed out, resenting his implicit criticism.

“No, Miss Bruno,” he replied calmly. “Not everyone responds with resentment to the trials of life. However hard, they are the choices of our Lord, and at some point we need to accept them, with a high head, without being nasty or denying who has given us life.”

“Not everyone has your faith, Father,” I whispered, looking up at him.

“Those who don’t possess it should at least allow others to help them find it, to be comforted, to be led in the storm, for they don’t know how to deal with it, before they miserably die in it,” he said firmly.

“I'm sorry, but I can’t help you... I have no influence on Mr Mc Laine,” I said instantly, hoping to get rid of him. Father Alan didn’t give up, as determined as a bulldog chewing on a bone. “But you can help me reach him, somehow.” He stopped abruptly and looked at me. “Would you like to help me, Miss Bruno? You have faith, I feel it. Help me assist my cousin, even though he refuses any support.”

“I don’t see how I can help you,” I said, looking away from him.

“You’re loyal to your employer, right?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “Then let me help you. You doubt you can help me. You mustn’t. There will be a moment - I don’t know when and how - when there will be a c***k in my cousin's armour, a c***k in the rubber wall he so carefully erected - well, I want to be present when that happens. You’ll call me and I’ll be able to reach the real Sebastian, buried under layers and layers of mistrust and cynicism. Will you do it, Melisande?”

He didn’t miss my hesitation, and he raised an eyebrow. “Will you do it, Melisande?” He repeated.

“I can’t promise you anything,” I murmured reluctantly.

He smiled, condescending. “We have a common affection, therefore you will. There’s no need to promise me.”

I turned my head suddenly, annoyed by his confidence. I didn’t want to betray Sebastian's confidence in any way, but I couldn’t even doubt the goodness of his cousin's intentions.

After all, we both had the same goal: to save Sebastian from himself, from his fears and his ghosts.

I gazed at a shop window. A clothing shop was just a few yards from me, and the showcase attracted me. It had been a long time since I last bought a new outfit, and the euphoria of ridding myself of Monique's emotional and economic blackmails pushed me towards an impulsive purchase. After all, I was in debt with Mr Mc Laine and, instead of squandering money in unnecessary clothes, I should reimburse him, regularly repaying him for his generous loan. Nevertheless, I gave in to the temptation, confident in the future.

“Do you mind, father? I would like to take a look at that shop... I think I’m no longer being watched, and I would like to take advantage of it...”

A laugh escaped him, and for a moment his resemblance to his cousin was more evident, then he became serious again, as if to return to his sacred role.

“It’s typically feminine to indulge in these pastimes... Remember our agreement, Miss Bruno,” he warned me. “Have a nice walk. I’ll make sure it’s not further disturbed.” He bowed slightly, and walked away, almost royal in his plain tunic.

Dejected, and with the feeling of an incumbent disaster, I went to the clothing store, stopping in front of the shop window, admiring the dozens of exposed garments. One, in particular, attracted my attention. A medium-length, sleeveless dress, closed by a bow at the neck, and embellished with ruffles on the bottom. I squinted in order to read the price on the sign. It was impossible. Did such a marvel really have such an affordable price? Perplexed, but hopeful, I made my way into the shop. A woman, about the same age as Mrs Mc Millian, was folding some blouses. She looked at me carefully, taking in every detail of my person.

“Good morning.”

She haughtily answered my greeting with a nod.

I hesitated, almost sorry to have surrendered to the temptation. That woman intimidated me more than the strict father Alan.

“May I help you?” She finally asked, her sharp face devoid of any smile.

I blushed to the root of my hair, feeling like an intruder. In her there was no glimpse of the curiosity displayed by her fellow citizens, but there was also no kindness or warmth towards a potential customer, unlike Tiffany.

“I saw a dress in the showcase and... I’d like to try it on.”

Her face didn’t light up, it was obscured by thick clouds. “Which one?”

I shook my hand, confused. “The one with the bow on the neck.”

She curled her lips in a gesture of disappointment. “Three of the models displayed have a bow on the neck. What colour is it?”

There it was, the question I so much feared. The one I'd been fighting against forever, in an exhausting battle, because I knew I didn’t have any weapons, and I was destined to lose always.

I approached the showcase, hoping she would follow me, but she didn’t.

I pointed to the model I was interested in. “It’s this one.”

“From here I can’t see it well. Do you mean the purple or the blue one?”

I was weighing my possible alternatives - react with arrogance and contrast her, stammer a random answer in the hope of picking the right one, or go away without answering - when a girl, about eighteen years old, emerged from the back.

“Hello. Are you the new secretary of Midnight Rose?”

The older woman, perhaps her mother, barked a rebuke. I responded with a smile, grateful for her intercession.

“Yes, I'm Melisande Bruno.”

The girl ran to me, her eyes dilated with curiosity. “Is he really as beautiful as they say?”

“Brenda!” The other woman was furious.

Surprised by the question, it took me a while to answer. “Don’t worry, ma'am. Brenda... that’s your name, right?”

She nodded, anxious to hear my answer. Touched, I obliged. “Yes, Mr Mc Laine is a very attractive man. Have you never seen him?”

She shook her head regretfully. “No, he’s never let anyone see him. For fifteen years. And I don’t remember him.”

“Don’t bother the customers,” the other woman insisted, frowning.

“I’m not, Mom. I was just curious,” she protested, blinking.

“Curiosity killed the cat, and that’s true,” her mother quoted, without losing her frown.

Brenda snorted, as if she were used to that saying, and couldn’t bear to hear it anymore. I felt a wave of sympathy towards her, for having to live with that sour and unpleasant woman.

Brenda winked at me, giving her back to her mother. “Did you need something?”

“I wanted to see this dress.” I indicated it, hoping to avoid the other woman’s third degree.

“It's the nicest! The purple, in my opinion, suits you. You'll see... And it's cheap... It's on sale because it's the last one.”

“Go do your homework, Brenda,” her mother ordered. Her tone allowed for no arguments and the girl noticed it. She gave me a last smile, and disappeared in the back, her dark skirt floating. She looked like a butterfly.

“Can I try it?” I asked again uncomfortable under the ruthless gaze of that austere woman.

She decided to get out of the counter, and in a few moments, thanks to her experience, she pulled the so much sought after dress off of the mannequin and handed it to me.

“The dressing rooms are back there.” She showed me a curtain.

A few minutes later, I checked the price tag and I went back to pay for the dress. During my short absence, a woman had come into the store, and I recognized her. She was one of those women who were trying to enter Tiffany's haberdashery. It was my fault, I thought frowning. I shouldn’t have defied fate, and gone straight back to Midnight Rose. The dress fit me perfectly and it cost so little that it seemed like a crime not to take advantage of it, but every temptation has another face. More subdued, hidden and harmful.

“Good morning” the newcomer greeted me, staring at me with eyes as round as coffee spoons, huge behind her eyeglasses. She was short, petite, homely, and her expression was typical of a gossip on the hunt.

“My name is Fliss Fellow. You are Melisande Bruno, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t lie, of course. I handed the dress to the woman behind the counter, determined to pay in a hurry and get out of there.

The gossip realized that she didn’t have much time left and made her first strike.

“You work for Mr Mc Laine... They say that he lost his mind... Aren’t you afraid to stay in the house with him?”

I bite my lip, annoyed by that cheap little dig. “Mr Mc Laine is healthier than you and I put together.”

The reference to her person seemed to inflame her more. “Yet if everyone says it... there must some truth to it.”

“If everyone you're refer to are donkeys... The majority of people don’t necessarily carry the absolute truth,“ I replied with my eyes fixed on the silent woman who was putting the dress in a plastic bag.

I waited for the bill with feverish anxiety, while Fliss Fellow turned to the shop owner. “Hannah... you've also heard that Mc Laine has lost his mind, haven’t you?”

Hannah didn’t bat an eyelid, indifferent. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

The other woman exploded in an idiotic laugh. “Liar… You're as curious as all of us. You’re just too much of a prig to admit it...”

Hannah handed me the bag and I grabbed it quickly, almost crying out with relief.

Fliss Fellow was good at making wisecracks, though. An Olympic swordsman, in the race until the last second. “They also say that Mr Mc Laine is able to summon the devil, and that he calls him every night. Is it true?”

I squeezed my fist, outraged by the insensitivity of that woman. “Nonsense, Mrs Fellow. Only wicked minds can believe such rubbish. I'm sure you were just joking.”

I smiled triumphantly in seeing her in trouble. I didn’t give her time to recover, and I literally escaped from the store, bidding my farewell to the silent Hannah with a quick nod.