Page 50 of Tears of Ink

“And do all the people that annoy you end up as a statue?”

She’s being funny. Sadly, they don’t. I run away from most people who annoy me or upset me.

I shake off the thought. “What do you know about glass making?”

“Absolutely nothing.” There is a gentle tap at the door and Tabitha opens it. Jennings stands there with a tray of cups, some biscuits, and a coffee pot. “I can pour coffee, though.”

I grin. “That’s a start. Then I’m teaching you how to make glass.”

“Really?”

I chuckle. “Sure, why not?” Panic settles in my stomach and makes me want to hurl into the nearest wastepaper bin. “At least then I can work out how terrible tomorrow is going to be.”

Tabitha smiles and starts to make the coffee. “It won’t be terrible, you’re a natural.”

I curl my top lip, but I can’t even pretend that this whole situation isn’t scaring the life out of me.

C H A P T E R F I F T E E N

“Faith!”

I groan and look up from the kiln. I’m trying to get the quantities right for the glass and at the moment I can’t make anything other than a shattered pile of dust. I don’t know why it’s so hard. I’ve done it hundreds of times. Now it’s late, I’m tired and cranky, and in my stomach is a giant knot of tension I can’t dissipate no matter how hard I try.

“Go away.” I shout back.

“Open up now, you are being completely ridiculous.”

I know he’s not going to go away, so, throwing my gloves onto the chair, I stomp for the door and swing it open. Red hair and freckles are leant against the door frame. “So, you’ve quit?”

“So, you’re a cheating bastard?”

Gerard scowls at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Ooh like you’re married and never told me.”

His face falls, but whether it’s because I’ve caught him out and know how much of a cheating bastard he is, I don’t know. “Let me guess… Peter?” He scrubs a freckled hand down his face. It’s inexplicable, but my mind wanders to the golden skin of Elijah.

“It doesn’t matter who. The point is I trusted you. And this has nothing to do with sex because we both know I couldn’t give a shit about that. I trusted you to be my friend. I let you into a world that, in case you didn’t realise, is actually quite small.”

“For goodness’ sake, Faith, I didn’t lie. Ella and I separated three years ago. Peter would have told you that if he wasn’t such a complete arse.”

I shake my head. “It’s not the point. We’ve been friends for two years and you never once mentioned a wife.”

He steps into the room and takes in my pile of dusty mess. It’s everywhere, crusted along my legs, under my sandals. “So now you walk away from your degree? All because I didn’t want to tell the engaging, vivacious girl who I couldn’t believe liked me that I’d once made a silly, childish error and married the wrong girl.”

I glare at him. Throwing daggers with my evil side eye. “I can let that go maybe before we slept together, but not the time since when we’ve been friends.”

“Is this because you’ve told me what happened back in Brighton?”

I hold my hand up. “Never talk to me about it.” I step towards him, backing him back towards the door. “Don’t ever talk to me again. You’ve crossed a line with this, Gerard. I was willing to think you wanted to be my friend, that maybe I wasn’t on a long list of students you wanted to fuck.” My pulse races. “What am I thinking now, hey? That you’re a dirty scumbag.”

“So what are you going to do, Faith? Start again? Find another degree? Waste more years? I gave you so many opportunities; your work is in galleries because of me.”

I can barely speak. Blood is pumping in my veins, my head throbbing. Every muscle, every tendon, is pulled as tight as an elastic band about to snap.

“I think the lady said she didn’t want to talk.”

My legs sag a little as Elijah’s smooth voice cuts through the static buzzing between my ears.