praying my dad is AWOL again so that I don't have to deal with whatever drama that might be orbiting around him.
When I get home the house is empty, but after taking a quick peek in the door of Gran's old bedroom I see that Dad and Sal aren't out, they're just sleeping. I wonder if either of them realises they're sleeping their lives away.
I make a small bowl of pasta for myself and eat it alone at the kitchen table. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the silver cooker front, my green eyes standing out even though the image is blurry. It reminds me to try and get Sam alone at some stage so that I can ask him about elves. What exactly are they? Where do they come from? Surely he'll be a better source of information than the temptation to google “elves” on my iphone.
The time flies by, and I realise I've only got a few minutes before Frank will be here. I run to my room and change my t-shirt for a silky purple blouse, tie my hair up in a ponytail and put on some mascara and clear lip gloss, hoping to make a decent impression on the new people I'll be meeting tonight.
My phone chirps with Frank's text and I rush out of the house, grabbing my coat on the way. I slide into the passenger seat of the van and close the door.
“ You look nice,” says Frank, his eyes focused on the small bit of gloss on my lips.
“ Thank you. And d-ditto,” I reply, taking in his own appearance. He's changed his clothes from earlier too, but it wouldn't really matter if he hadn't because Frank always looks wonderful. He has this kind of clean handsomeness, with a small hint of trouble whenever he pushes up his shirt sleeves to reveal the tattoo on his arm.
He raises an eyebrow. “Ditto? That's all you're going to give me? I'm disappointed Flo, I thought I made a real effort,” he says, with mock disappointment.
“ You did..” I fumble. “Of course you did, you know I'm terrible at saying what I t-think.”
A frown marks Frank's face. “Sometimes you say exactly what you're thinking. You did yesterday.”
I open my mouth to apologise yet again for the hurt I've caused him but he stops me.
Frank places a finger to my lips to shush me. “Don't. I shouldn't have brought it up.” He lets out a sigh and rubs his hands on his pants. “I'm an idiot. So, are you all ready for this spoof show we're headed to?”
“ Spoof show?”
Frank glances at me. “I know you're the real deal honey, but the people you're going to meet tonight are con artists. Or people who are either dumb or desperate enough to believe in the lies the con artists peddle them. Hayley's always been into this kind of thing, sometimes there's no talking to her. All of her friends are crazy hippies who think they've got spiritual abilities or something special about them.”
I eye him speculatively. “I think I'll wait until I meet them before I make up my mind.”
Frank grins and places a hand on my thigh. “Always so reasonable.”
I glance at his hand but he takes it away so I presume it was just a friendly gesture and nothing more. He starts up the engine and we begin the drive to the bookshop. It'll take us a couple of minutes to get there so I decide to fill him in on my encounter with Green George last night. I need Frank's opinion, and I want to see if he knows anything, particularly about elves, that could be useful to me. He seems pensive and silent while I recite my tale, and something passes over his expression, either worry or concern. Is he worried about me? Or about Green George showing up in the first place?
“ I've never heard of Green George or Silvanus, but I do know that elves exist. I haven't met one or anything, although I think John has once or twice. They're a more elusive race of beings than say vampires or witches. But remember back when I told you that most supernaturals can breed with humans? So you've got all of these people floating about whose parents or grandparents or great grandparents might have been vampires or
When I get home the house is empty, but after taking a quick peek in the door of Gran's old bedroom I see that Dad and Sal aren't out, they're just sleeping. I wonder if either of them realises they're sleeping their lives away.
I make a small bowl of pasta for myself and eat it alone at the kitchen table. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the silver cooker front, my green eyes standing out even though the image is blurry. It reminds me to try and get Sam alone at some stage so that I can ask him about elves. What exactly are they? Where do they come from? Surely he'll be a better source of information than the temptation to google “elves” on my iphone.
The time flies by, and I realise I've only got a few minutes before Frank will be here. I run to my room and change my t-shirt for a silky purple blouse, tie my hair up in a ponytail and put on some mascara and clear lip gloss, hoping to make a decent impression on the new people I'll be meeting tonight.
My phone chirps with Frank's text and I rush out of the house, grabbing my coat on the way. I slide into the passenger seat of the van and close the door.
“ You look nice,” says Frank, his eyes focused on the small bit of gloss on my lips.
“ Thank you. And d-ditto,” I reply, taking in his own appearance. He's changed his clothes from earlier too, but it wouldn't really matter if he hadn't because Frank always looks wonderful. He has this kind of clean handsomeness, with a small hint of trouble whenever he pushes up his shirt sleeves to reveal the tattoo on his arm.
He raises an eyebrow. “Ditto? That's all you're going to give me? I'm disappointed Flo, I thought I made a real effort,” he says, with mock disappointment.
“ You did..” I fumble. “Of course you did, you know I'm terrible at saying what I t-think.”
A frown marks Frank's face. “Sometimes you say exactly what you're thinking. You did yesterday.”
I open my mouth to apologise yet again for the hurt I've caused him but he stops me.
Frank places a finger to my lips to shush me. “Don't. I shouldn't have brought it up.” He lets out a sigh and rubs his hands on his pants. “I'm an idiot. So, are you all ready for this spoof show we're headed to?”
“ Spoof show?”
Frank glances at me. “I know you're the real deal honey, but the people you're going to meet tonight are con artists. Or people who are either dumb or desperate enough to believe in the lies the con artists peddle them. Hayley's always been into this kind of thing, sometimes there's no talking to her. All of her friends are crazy hippies who think they've got spiritual abilities or something special about them.”
I eye him speculatively. “I think I'll wait until I meet them before I make up my mind.”
Frank grins and places a hand on my thigh. “Always so reasonable.”
I glance at his hand but he takes it away so I presume it was just a friendly gesture and nothing more. He starts up the engine and we begin the drive to the bookshop. It'll take us a couple of minutes to get there so I decide to fill him in on my encounter with Green George last night. I need Frank's opinion, and I want to see if he knows anything, particularly about elves, that could be useful to me. He seems pensive and silent while I recite my tale, and something passes over his expression, either worry or concern. Is he worried about me? Or about Green George showing up in the first place?
“ I've never heard of Green George or Silvanus, but I do know that elves exist. I haven't met one or anything, although I think John has once or twice. They're a more elusive race of beings than say vampires or witches. But remember back when I told you that most supernaturals can breed with humans? So you've got all of these people floating about whose parents or grandparents or great grandparents might have been vampires or
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