Sweet Things Dying - Prologue III

The eighth instalment returns us to Cole and Heather in 1886...

Prologue III

London

October 1886

            It had been a short game yet black already dominated the board. An untidy pile of white’s pawns, along with a knight, a bishop and a rook had collected beside Cole’s left hand. In two moves he was sure he would have her queen, too.

Heather frowned. Her hand hovered over the queen but retreated when she could see no way out of the predicament she’d been cornered her into. She gave an exasperated laugh and smiled at him.

“Is there nothing I can do?” she asked.

“That would be telling,” he replied. “You don’t want me to think you a cheat, do you?”

“I said I would play chess. I made no promise of being good.”

“Nor am I, I promise. Shall we play for money next time?”

“You’re not very sporting, Adam.”

“I am so.”

“Then you’re not such a fine gentleman to bash me around so badly. I have to win one of these times.”

They had seen each other five times now in the ten days since Heather had returned home. Always at her work while she took her break, or on her walk home. Always in secret, too. Her parents knew nothing of Cole’s interest in her.