Shades of Errol Flynn - Chapter Two

A new chapter of this draft serial will be posted every Wednesday. Your comments are always welcome!

Prologue~Ch. 1~

Despite the remnants of her nightmare plaguing her, Jessica read until she fell asleep, a restful, dreamless sleep that she woke from when Ellen’s alarm clock went off. Five minutes later her own sounded, a deliberate arrangement she and Ellen devised to keep them from going back to sleep, especially useful for mornings following a late night.

“Rise and shine, Ellen,” Jessica called.

There was a muffled reply from Ellen’s room.

Jessica stretched and surveyed her wardrobe.

“Hey, Ellen,” she called.

“What?” slightly less muffled, but definitely grumpy.

“Can I borrow your black belt?”

“Only if I can borrow your jade earrings.”

“Deal.”

“Woven, leather, metal or plastic?” Ellen asked.

“It’s Wednesday,” replied Jessica, delivering the earrings, “so I’d better go with woven.”

“What’s Wednesday got to do with it?” Ellen yawned hugely and handed over a black belt made of woven hemp.

“Our stock of vases are delivered on Wednesdays. Mr. Pressman always likes to supervise the unloading to make sure the supplier isn’t trying to rip us off.” Mr. Pressman was the owner of the florist shop Jessica worked in.

“I still don’t get it.”

“I like to dress a little earthier when Mr. P. is around, that’s all,” said Jessica. She headed down the hall to the kitchen.

“If your wardrobe were any earthier it would be covered in dirt,” muttered Ellen.

“I heard that!”

Jessica put a pot of coffee on. By the time she was showered and dressed it was ready. She poured herself a cup and sat down at the table tucked under the kitchen window. Absently, she began checking the plants on the sill to see if they needed watering.

Plants were one of the few interests in life Jessica had stuck with. Her Aunt Sandra, who raised her after her mother died, didn’t like gardens. There were, however, plenty of gardening enthusiasts in the neighborhood and most welcomed her visits and help.

She became interested in herbs in high school when a substitute history teacher gave a lecture on how the pioneers coped with illness. The idea of using bark tea and poultices fascinated Jessica. She acquired a book on plants and their uses that same day and shortly afterwards started her first window sill herb garden, hidden behind the blind on her bedroom window.

Eventually she started a notebook to keep track of loose bits of information she gained from research and from talking to some of the residents of the nursing home she did volunteer work at after school.

The first thing Jessica bought when she moved away from her Aunt and Uncle was a plant. It was a spindly Boston fern, but she nursed it back to health and now it held the place of honour, a brass plant stand, in the living room.

Jessica glanced at her watch. It was eight o’clock, time to go. She finished her coffee just as there was a knock at the door to the apartment.

Whoever was at the door was persistent, they knocked twice more before she got there and got the three locks undone.

“Howard!”

Surprise warred with admiration at his early morning appearance. Admiration won out. His dark, shoulder length hair was tied back in a tail with one dark wave falling in front of his blue eyes. He wore a white shirt tucked into black jeans. Though not heavily muscled, Howard still managed to exude an aura of wiry strength.

“Morning Jess. I heard the shower going and figured you must be up.” He handed her an envelope. “This was delivered for you yesterday and I promised I’d pass it along.”

“Thanks, Howard. You want some coffee?”

“No thanks,” he was already starting down the stairs. “I’m just on my way out.”

Jessica stared after him. On his way out? This, from the man who once explained in great detail why mornings should be prohibited by law?

“Was that the door I heard?” asked Ellen, fresh from her own shower.

“Howard dropped this off for me,” Jessica replied, waving the envelope at her.

“Howard from upstairs Howard?” Ellen asked. “What’s he doing up this early?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica replied absently. “He said he was on his way out.”

“Well, leave a note on his door, could you please? The faucet in the bathroom needs to be fixed.”

Jessica sat down, still looking at the courier envelope. “I wonder what this could be?”

“Well, open it!”

She glanced at her watch. “No time, we’ve got to go.”

There was the usual mad rush for coats, shoes and purses and a promise on the way out the door to meet at the mall for lunch, Jessica’s treat.