Two of one, to one, of one...

The black flakes stuck to her lips, crumbling and occasionally making the long journey to the void below. Love Fool by The Cardigans came and washed over her, doing no more for her parched tongue than a tear could do for a desert plain. Possibly less. She tried to speak but her throat had something heavy clogging it, a hamster somewhere down the endless mouth of a snake. Drenched in her own sweat on a day warm only by Antarctic standards, the absolute loss of moisture in her mouth caused a dry, shrill sort of chuckle. With the cogs in her mind jamming and rusting in place, some senses were more alive than ever. Like how her dear friend, dearest sweetest Ellie had let loose her supportive hold when her arm was so slick that her purse barely stayed. She looked down to where Detroit was emblazoned on her T-shirt, and for the first time she wished she were there. Detroit, New York, any town bigger than a couple of football fields. Any town, any place, where there was more than just the single solitary public house of Amsher.

“It’s a cold sort of life. You. Your brother. Just the two of you, come from God knows where. Most of us, we’ve been down here since our forefathers forefathers, and even that’s no real count. Sure them folks as come on over show us bits of the world outside, we’re no lost dingy little island in the midst of the wilderness, but now you planning on staying. And here. That’s a first, really, but can’t say as I’m not glad for the company, like I said a new friend being the rather dismal hope of most us local folk. Hoping you don’t mind of course, seeing how I get to be your friend, fought for the right good and hard I did.”

She wasn’t sure whether Ellie had prepared that little speech before she came knocking, or if it were really as genuine as her lopsided smile seemed to suggest. But making a friend here was something she had been afraid might never happen, and Ellie, with all her charm peeking out through her features, black cracked lipstick and a faded striped shirt was a more pleasant surprise than she would have dared to hope for. Ellie would grow into something to complement her as the year passed. Different as black and white, but there was no doubting the depth of their friendship. Never. Sceptics merely had to look to their lips, to see them smudged with colours so dark that they had become indiscernible. And good old Amsher, it wasn’t a place for sceptics. It was where the homely folk carried out their delicate balance between the centuries. Ellie just adjusted the weights a bit, so that she could fit in without tipping the scales.

“I’ll be out late tonight, so sorry about this. I know I said it would come to an end here, but you know how I have to work. It’s all for you, really it is. Just get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow. Night sis.”

Her brother walked out the door. The same words. Every time, more now than back in the big city. Any of the big cities, it had become difficult to remember how many they had been to any more. Coat wrapped tight around him, she watched the black figure fade until it become one with the dusk outside. She removed her face from the window then, drawing lightly where her breath had left its mark. A tear in the fabric. When he left, she was alone and the house was big and haunting. When he stayed, it was small, warm and comforting. When he stayed…

Three loud raps against the door snapped her out of the usual trance. When the one become two, the night that parts so cruelly. She shook her head in a violent little bob, clearing her thoughts as she got up and crossed the three yards to the door. Swinging it open, the braced position was instinctive as Ellie ran in to crush her in a hug that smelt more of bears than it felt like one. But when she stayed at the door, not moving to come in, the wind blew in more than just the cold.

“He’s off to the pub again. Let’s go there and surprise him. Night’s awfully cold as it is; don’t think I can stand to be indoors anywhere else. Nice drink, it’ll warm the both of us right up you’ll see.”

There are few things as loud as the beating of ones own heart. The dull thud as it pushes against the pitiful constraints of its cage, no master of handling details, pounding away in the ears to drown the brains futile attempt to make sense of things. Not her brother. He was her soul. Sworn to protect her forever, pure and angelic. No vice could touch him. And the pub, you could smell it. It lingered for hours after a visit, and he never smelt of it. He always smelt of the strong spirit aftershave. Of the deep woods he would frequent. Of bark and rain. She would know. She did know. Not her brother.

As she stood outside it still remained beyond her to ask why. Why she was there. Just a drink. To keep her warm, that’s all. No one she knew by name would be in there. One drink and they would go home to play with Ellie’s battered deck of cards. That was where she belonged. She hardly needed a drink now, perspiration making her glow fiercely. Ever nerve was on fire. Ellie had moved away, halfway through the door and staring at the half collapsed figure of her friend with a wondrous disbelief. She grinned in spite of herself, keeping her thought of whether 999 actually services Amsher to herself. The warm glow came to her through those heavy oak doors.
…pretend that you love me…

She pushed through then, a sudden burst of determination verging on hysteria. Every sense numbed. Her eyes took much too long to adjust to the light, her ears to the sounds. An ambience all its own. They had the right of that. Wood all around, everything made of wood, and the whole little town crammed into one small place to keep warm. To spend their night here, where the floor had turned dull from use, a sight rarely seen. Her eye wandered to the rows of bottles behind the bar, stacked to the ceiling. Glasses filled with liquids of every colour imaginable. And the smell. It overwhelmed her. The smell of wood. The smell of the people. And the smell of aftershave. She didn’t reel then. Spinning sharply on a heel her eyes bore holes through the nightly patrons. Faces swam past her, but there was just one she needed. Her gaze swept across the room. And again. And again and again and again until the floor rushed up to meet her.

Ellie was there then. She smiled her cracked black smile. And her dear friend, dearest sweetest friend smiled right back at her. They laughed then, loud and long. Neither knew what the other laughed for, but they laughed all the same, with not one curious eye upon them. This was Amsher. They’re good folk here. Decent folk. They wouldn’t gossip, not tell her about any other mans business. But there would be no asking. Because he wasn’t there. Not her brother.

He watched the doors swing violently behind him, his black coat tight around him. There is no sound so loud as the beating of ones heart. Once. Twice…