The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,57
I have less than four days stored in my memory banks. That is not a situation I’ve encountered in that time. “Sure?”
Polly sighed heavily. “Then you’ll understand me when I say this: if life gives you a chance for something, you can’t hesitate or wait for a better time. You just have to take a leap of faith while it’s there.”
Keira was nodding, but her brain was composed entirely of question marks. “Do you regret something that happened before Emma’s death?”
A flash of panic crossed the florist’s face. She glanced behind herself, then busied her hands with stripping leaves off a bunch of flowers in a bucket behind her desk. “She came to my house on the morning she died. I wasn’t home; my sister answered the door, but dear Emma wouldn’t come in. She left for Crispin House without waiting for me to come back. Sometimes I think…if I’d been there for her…if I’d guessed…” Polly shook her head, reached over the counter, and seized Keira’s hands. She tilted forward so she could give a meaningful look over the pince-nez glasses. “Regret is a terrible thing, my dear. I hope I’m not being too blunt—but if there’s a special someone you think you might have feelings for…”
Oh. We’re back to that. Keira very carefully extracted her hands. “I understand. Thank you, Polly. You’ve been incredibly kind today.”
The smile was back in place. “Anytime, dear, anytime. Pop back in if you fancy some flowers; anything in the shop is yours!”
Nodding and muttering thanks, Keira backed out of the store—and collided with a tall, warm body. “Ah, I’m so sorry.” She turned and blinked up at a familiar smile.
“You weren’t having tea with Harry, were you?” Mason tilted his head to one side, his warm green eyes sparkling with laughter. “You’ll make me jealous.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Keira laughed and gave Mason’s shoulder a shove as she slipped past him. “Harry sure is something, isn’t he? Does he really have concerts at the pub?”
“Oh, yes. They’re incredible.” Mason nodded in the direction of the town center, and they began strolling toward the fountain. “Ear-splitting screams count as incredible, right?”
“Ha!” Keira pushed her hands into her pockets and matched Mason’s easy pace. “What’re you doing out this way?”
“On my way to visit you, in actual fact. It’s lucky I saw you as I was passing the florist.” He shrugged. “My official excuse was to check on your arm, but really, I was just bored. Can I buy you a drink?”
You need to tell him you’re leaving. Keira’s chest tightened at the thought, but she smiled before the emotion could leak onto her face. “Can we get it to-go? Today’s too nice to sit inside.”
“Good thought; we should enjoy the sun while it lasts. They’re talking about more rain tonight.” They’d reached the intersection, and even though there weren’t any cars in sight, Mason still stopped and looked both ways before leading Keira across. “That’s one of my favorite things about Blighty: it’s almost perpetually wet. If it’s not rain, it’s mist, and if it’s not mist, it’s snow that turns to slush before you can look sideways at it.”
Their conversation came to a halt as they entered the coffee shop and a wave of chatter and radio tunes enveloped them. Keira only remembered her financially handicapped condition when they’d joined the queue. “Uh…sorry, I didn’t bring any money—”
“Good! It’s my treat.”
Marlene, the disengaged barista, barely glanced at them before asking what they wanted. Keira crossed her fingers that she didn’t hate coffee and asked for a latte. Mason ordered tea for himself. Keira didn’t know how it was possible when Marlene only had one harried-looking assistant helping her, but their orders were filled in less than a minute.
Keira wrapped her hands around her cardboard cup and inhaled deeply as she returned to the outdoors.
Mason nodded toward the fountain. “Want to sit for a minute?”
The stone ledge surrounding the feature was still cold, even though they settled on the sunny side. Keira hadn’t been close enough to see the fountain clearly before, and she couldn’t help but gawk. It was a bizarre sculpture: cherubic toddlers with fish tails frolicked up Grecian pillars. Every few meters, an openmouthed gargoyle vomited water into the basin below. The spectacle was topped with a crossbow-toting centaur endowed with one of the largest noses she’d ever seen.
“What do you think?” Mason watched her with open amusement.
She shook her head. “It’s… Wow. There’s something for everyone, huh?”