Cuts Like An Angel by Mason Sabre, Lucian Bane Page A

who came here. The kind who wore summer flowing dresses with their hair and make-up neatly done. The kinds of women whose husbands worked long hours in the office while the mothers met for mother and baby groups at the local church and swapped child rearing tips. The kind of woman his mother had never been. Rosie would be this kind of mother. Only maybe he’d not work long hours and she’d not swap baby rearing tips with other women.
    Rosie stopped and came off the path, walking across to the railings that separated the park from the greenery. The ground was covered in soft rubber to catch any children who fell, saving them from grazed knees and hands. Her eyes were on one woman; she was pushing a small child in a swing with bars around it, holding the toddler securely in place as he squealed each time he got close and his mother cheered joyfully with each push.
    “Do you have any children?” Josh asked her as he stood beside her.
    “No,” she answered quickly, making Josh curious as to why. “I have a niece, though. She’s five. When I was back home, I would take her out for a day sometimes. My sister worked a lot.” Her gaze flitted with shadows that never wanted to be told before she turned a pretty smile at him.  You?”
    Josh looked out at the mother and child. “No. My mum used to bring me here, though. When I was little and it was her day off work. She’d come here with some sandwiches and crisps.”
    “Crisps?”
    “You know, chips?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “She would read and I would play. I think I drove her mad sometimes.” He didn’t think. He knew. William anyway. Not Josh. Josh’s mother would have brought him to these places with lovingly made jam sandwiches and a flask of hot chocolate that they would sit and share together. William’s mother, he had to make his own sandwiches when she wasn’t looking. Usually when she was asleep. She never rose before noon and even then the only thing she said to him was “ where’s my cigarettes?” The closest he got to sitting and drinking a hot chocolate with her was when he made her black coffee. The days she was too tired, too beaten to bother. He would make it for her, sit opposite her and sip his hot chocolate he dared to make. Those days she wouldn’t shout at him for taking what was hers in the kitchen. She wouldn’t shout at all because it hurt her hung over head.
    “Sounds wonderful. You and your mother are close?”
    “Yes.” He came away from the railing. Came away from that poisonous memory.
    “Sorry,” she said. “Did I say something wrong?”
    “No.” For whatever reason it was, he couldn’t fathom it just then, but he dared to hold out his hand to her. Brave, confident. This was Josh. “Do you like ice cream?”

Chapter Twelve
    Rosie
    Rosie’s heart skipped five beats as she regarded his extended hand. Before she could wonder too long if he meant what she thought, she reached out with her own and put it in his. A few seconds of weird feeling passed between them and she felt his hesitancy. “Sorry,” she whispered, pulling her hand out as they walked. God what a stupid moron she was. Of course he wasn’t wanting to hold her hand and walk the park, girlfriend and boyfriend style. Way to jump the gun. Was probably English custom to hold your hand out and direct a person along, or gesture come on, follow me, let’s go. Not let’s hold hands and walk like lovers.
    And oh God, there was that remote possibility that maybe he did want to hold her hand and all her stupid overthinking showed through and made him think she didn’t want to. Dammit.
    “So beautiful here,” she sighed, wanting to let him know she wasn’t upset or bothered with any of it, and a do over was fine with her. “Did you walk here?” she suddenly wondered.
    He laughed. “I do like walking but no. I rode my bike.”
    “Oh,” she said, smiling. “You like riding bikes? I have that on my list of things to buy still.”
    “A motorcycle,” he said,