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Feeling sick to my stomach, I undressed and went to bed. I soon fell into a restless sleep, and my dreams followed suit. I found myself outside a closed door, which I couldn’t open no matter how much I tried. In desperation, I kicked it angrily, and it yielded. Inside was a bed in disarray, and I started to tidy and straighten the bedclothes. But when I reached under the covers, a cool hand grasped my wrist and pulled me down into the darkness. I could feel warm breath on my face and hands on my waist.
‘No!’ I cried and twisted to get away.
‘Mercy, it’s me,’ said Jasper’s voice in my ear, and I instantly stopped struggling. The darkness gave way to light, and I saw that it was indeed him. A red sheet was draped around his body. Our faces were so close I could see each individual eyelash framing his liquid brown eyes.
When I looked down, I saw that I no longer had pox scars on my arms and hands; and when I touched my face, it was smooth and unblemished. Tears of relief leaked out of my eyes. To be with Jasper like this and be disfigured would be unbearable.
‘I never realised you were so beautiful,’ he said and traced a finger down the curve of my cheek. His other hand stroked down my hip, and my body swam with desire.
‘Do you think I am too?’ He pushed away the sheet covering him, and I gasped in horror at the deep-pitted scars scattered all over his chest.
‘No!’ I cried. ‘I want you to be perfect! I thought you were perfect!’
‘What you see is what you get,’ he said mockingly and tried to press up against me. I recoiled in disgust.
But Jasper laughed, grabbed my head, and tried to kiss me with lips blistered with pox pustules. I screamed with some force, and this woke me up. I lay there in the darkness, sweaty and shaking. The dream was so upsetting to me that I cried for some time and wondered what it could mean.
I knew one thing for sure: the next time Sebastian wanted me to clean Jasper’s room, I would ask Maggie to do it.
Chapter 9
‘What would you like, Anna?’ asked Thomas when we arrived at the Castle, a black-and-white Tudor-style pub a couple of minutes’ walk from the castle proper.
‘Oh, I can get mine. Don’t worry,’ I said, feeling weird about him paying for my drink. I’d formally introduced myself on the walk over, thinking that I’d better since he didn’t actually know my name.
‘It’s not a problem,’ he said, trying to catch the barman’s eye. ‘I get paid prison wages.’
He seemed adamant, and I didn’t want to be rude. ‘OK, I’ll have a cider, thanks.’
The barman came over and greeted Thomas with a ‘Hey, mate’. So I gathered he did come here quite a bit. As he ordered for us, I looked around at the pub. It was rustic with an eclectic mix of wooden tables and chairs and not too busy since it was late afternoon. I’d never been here before despite living in Oxford for the past five years.
Thomas nodded towards one of the booth seats and carried the drinks as I slid in. Now what? Make small talk? I wasn’t good at that at the best of times. If I knew I was going out with a guy, I needed at least a week to prepare my body and my outfit. I couldn’t just be spontaneous. But I got the impression Thomas, now sipping from his Pilsner across from me, was taking this in his stride. He seemed like a casual kind of person. I took a large swallow of cider to help calm my nerves and attempted to look natural as if I went out with strange men all the time.
‘Ah, that’s better.’ Thomas leaned back and stretched out his legs, being careful not to knock my ankles. ‘Saturdays are always hectic, but I did sign up for weekend tours, so I shouldn’t complain.’
‘Are you a full-time tour guide?’ I asked politely.
‘No, part-time. I manage an e-bike shop during the week and on Sundays.’
‘Oh.’ I thought this over. ‘So do you work at the shop, or do you actually own it?’
Thomas’s mouth quirked. ‘I actually own it. Are you into biking? I could probably do you a deal since you’re friends with Eleanor.’
‘Oh, not really, but thanks.’ Eleanor didn’t mention anything to me about him owning a business. I peeked at Thomas through my lashes when I took another sip of cider. She also didn’t mention he had a cheeky grin, warm brown eyes, and sex appeal. But then again, why would she? I felt a bit silly for putting him in my phone as ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’.
‘So how did you get the gig at the castle?’ I asked.
‘I did a double degree in history and economics,’ he said as if that explained it. ‘Hey, shall we get some loaded fries to share? I’m starved. Unless you want a burger? They do vegan ones.’
‘Why do you think I wouldn’t want a meat one?’
‘I figured you might be into plant-based food,’ he said with a small smile. ‘You seem the conscientious type—someone who likes to do their bit for the planet and check out men before she goes on dates with them.’
I flushed. Dammit.
‘Fine. Yes, I would like a vegan burger, but only if we split the bill.’
‘Sure. I’ll order and get another round of drinks then.’
