Passing as Elias - By Kate Bloomfield Page 0,59

not afford to pick and choose.

Elizabeth thought non-stop about Merrill, even though it caused her great physical pain to do so. At night she lay awake, thinking about holding, and kissing Merrill on her soft, pink mouth. The memories were agony. It was as though a giant hole had been carved from her chest, leaving a gaping wound that would not heal.

Elizabeth did not reveal her sexual preference to her mother, for she knew that it would be a hard thing to understand. Feeling more alone than ever, Elizabeth kept it a secret, wondering if she really was perverted for preferring women.

She looked at other women on the street, wondering if any of them had loved another girl, like she had. Would it be a hard thing to do, to find someone like Elizabeth? Did such a thing even exist?

Yet her heart pined for Merrill more than anything else, and though Elizabeth felt lonely, she did not seek the company of another woman.

Elizabeth heard through word of mouth that the apothecary had sold to a wealthy doctor who planned to turn it into a surgery. Elizabeth was not too bothered by this, for she was glad that the apothecary would remain a source for medical treatment.

She was not unhappy working in the hat shop. The elderly couple, Mister and Misses Weatherby, were extremely kind, and the shop was often quiet. It was a relaxing job, yet Elizabeth felt frustrated that her mind was not being stretched to its full extent.

Another week passed, the bruise around Elizabeth’s eye faded, and her tender ribs were less painful. Each morning she woke up, wondering why she felt so depressed, and then she would remember.

It was around this time that Elizabeth saw Merrill for the first time since their untimely break-up.

Elizabeth was working in Weatherby’s Hat Shop on a Friday afternoon, when Merrill entered, looking rather dapper in a periwinkle blue dress. She did not notice Elizabeth straight away, for she looked upon the shelves at all of the lovely hats on display.

As soon as Elizabeth saw her, her knees felt weak, and her mouth felt dry. She wondered if she should hide, or simply face the music. It took several minutes for Merrill to see her.

Merrill stared, and Elizabeth breathed heavily. She ached. Time seemed to stretch out in front of her. In that moment, every kiss, every touch seemed to float in the space between them.

Merrill had turned pink, and had taken a step backwards towards the door.

‘Do not go.’ Elizabeth said weakly, but it was too late. Merrill had turned on her heel and sped through the shop door.

Elizabeth cursed under her breath and rested her head on the counter. There had been so many things she had wanted to say, but all of them had been forgotten in those few moments they looked at each other.

Elizabeth knew Merrill was ashamed. She must think it disgusting, what they had done. Elizabeth felt horrid that she had deceived Merrill, and wanted nothing more than to talk things through with her.

But Elizabeth got just this chance only a few hours later.

Elizabeth sat at home alone; her mother had gone to visit a friend for the evening. On the sixth hour there came a knock upon the door; Elizabeth, dressed in her trousers and shirt, slouched towards the door and opened it.

Merrill stood on the doorstep, her tiny body trembling from head to food. She looked absolutely petrified to be seen there.

‘Merrill.’ Elizabeth gaped, ‘Wh-What are you doing here?’

Merrill looked up and down the street nervously before whispering, ‘Can I come in, Miss?’

‘I - well, yes, of course.’ Elizabeth said, absolutely amazed.

Merrill slipped through the door and Elizabeth took her into the sitting room.

‘How did you know where I lived?’ Elizabeth asked immediately.

Merrill ignored this, ‘Are we alone, Miss?’ She asked.

‘Y-Yes.’ Elizabeth breathed.

Merrill was wringing her hands together nervously, as though on the verge of revealing something very personal. She looked exceptionally tiny, as though she had not eaten properly for weeks.

‘I just … I just wanted you to know,’ Merrill began in a shaking voice, ‘what you have done to me.’

Elizabeth’s heart sank. So, Merrill had come to lay a guilt-trip upon Elizabeth, as though she did not feel terrible enough already.

‘I cannot eat.’ Merrill said weakly, ‘I cannot sleep.’

Elizabeth did not speak, and she did not look at Merrill. Instead she looked at her feet.

‘I think of nothing else.’ Merrill continued.

‘If I could fix this,’ Elizabeth said pleadingly, ‘I would do anything.