Dies Irae

"It's pissing down Beauty you don't really want to go for a walk?"

Accompanied with a soft whine and a wagging tail, pleading black eyes stared back at Astor and said, 'please please, yes yes.' How could she refuse? Besides, the wind had been howling mercilessly at the French windows in the library, and even through the thick green velvet curtains the clattering was making it difficult to concentrate. 'I must have something done to those windows,' she thought, before putting her book down. She peeled herself off the soft blue sofa which elicited an excited bark from Beauty, who then proceeded to run out of the room, through the hallway, to wait eagerly by the front door. Astor dutifully followed.

Astor had found Beauty four months previously in an alleyway lying in a pool of blood, beaten and on the brink of death. When the RSPCA arrived, they told her the dog would be put down. With apparent regret the man had said, "veterinary medicine is expensive, especially for unclaimed dogs." Two months later Astor picked Beauty up from the vets and, to everyone's surprise the dog had made a speedy recovery; her two broken legs had healed without any complication, and the only signs of injuries sustained were from the sporadic patches of shorter hair that hadn't fully grown back.

Astor had expected Beauty to have emotional issues, she didn't know the dog's history. Although as a pedigree flat back retriever she assumed someone's unwanted pet. She quivered with anger every time she thought about whom had cruelly beaten her, but when she reminded herself that it was this that brought them together she couldn't help but smile.

Beauty turned out to be an exceptionally clever dog; when Astor first brought her home she ran directly to the kitchen and with great aplomb jumped up, delicately turned the key with her mouth and opened the door to the back garden, where she proceeded to unceremoniously mark it.

Astor threw on her navy Burberry mackintosh and her trusty walking boots, she decided to forego a hat; her hair needed washing anyway and she also quite enjoyed the exhilarating feeling of being out in the rain. However, after twenty minutes the heavy rain turned torrential and even Beauty looked miserable, "shall we go see Fran and Jack?" Beauty wagged her tail in agreement. Five minutes later, Astor and Beauty walked into the Crown & Gate.

"Astor, how lovely to see you." She was immediately greeted by an avuncular man who ran out from behind the bar and gave her a great big hug completely disregarding her bedraggled state, before bending down to greet Beauty who jumped up on his knees and licked his face, "I'm pleased to see you too girl," he said while stroking her head. "She looks like a brand new dog!"

"It's amazing isn't it? And she's such a special dog she seems to understand everything. I still can't even begin to imagine how she was left like that. Anyway how are you? How's business? Is Fran around?"

"Can't complain. Fran's staying with her family, been a couple of weeks and is away for another, I'm bit lonely but all the better for seeing you. Come, what will you have? Whisky?"

"Please."

"I don't know why I ask." He dashed back behind the back of bar and then shortly returned with an 18 year old bottle of Talisker. He poured her a sizeable glass and left the bottle under the counter for her convenience.

Astor sat down at the bar, where Beauty immediately curled at her feet; it felt like home. She'd been coming to this pub since she was fifteen, she was now twenty eight. Jack was the closest thing she had to a father even when he found out she was underage he didn't ban her outright; she had been a difficult teen and he recognised she would just go somewhere else and cause trouble.

Jack and Fran were childless, Astor was parentless and although they didn't play at being a family, over the years they had developed a genuine friendship. Jack had even given Astor away at her wedding and then a year later held a party for her divorce. Astor loved their down to earth nature, they were good people and they provided a needed constant in her life. Even in his seventies Jack had the vigour of a young man, he was bright and alert as she watched him chat to a few patrons, she caught his eye and smiled.

Jack smiled back at Astor, fifty years as a publican and he had never met another character like her. Her resilience in spite of everything that life threw at her; the murder of her parents when she was twelve, the suspect guardianship of her uncle, her emancipation at sixteen, her struggle with her vast wealth and independence; they jokingly called them the wilderness years, when Astor was just as likely to be found in an East End squat or on a yacht in the south of France, and then her disastrous marriage. Jack was not a violent man but as he told Fran, "If I ever see Karl I will kick his head in." Fran, who was from a family of proud Spanish Gypsies, had sweetly replied to her husband's unusual show of aggression "not if I see him first." Astor was the strongest person he knew, and she has not let experience ruin her innocence.

"That's a nice dog you have there, flat back retriever, right?"

There was an accusatory note to the voice and something mephitic to his breath. Astor turned coolly towards the man and gave him a quick appraisal; Dark black hair framed a sallow gaunt face, black beady eyes pierced through her, he must have been about 6'2 and she could see he was lanky even under his long thick black coat. The overall impression was that of a Victorian undertaker and he was the most sinister man Astor had ever seen.

"Yes." Astor gave a purposefully curt answer, she did not want to converse with the man.

"How old is she?"

"About 3."

"She's a rescue?"

"Yes."

"And how long have you had her for?"

"Four months."

A wicked smile crossed the man's face that chilled Astor to the core.

"Why the interest in my dog?"

"I'm just interested. Is that a problem?"

"You tell me? Your interest doesn't seem too friendly, so if there is something you want I would rather you just got to it."

Vincent glared at the insolent little girl, no one spoke to him like that, as a predator he usually found his prey to be instinctually intimidated, he sensed her unease but she wasn't frightened. He hadn't expected resistance, no one ever stood in his way. 'Play nice, you're in public,' he told himself.

"I would like to buy your dog- please." The please came out as a hiss.

"Excuse me," she looked at him with incredulity.

"You heard me."

"Is there a problem?" Jack had come over when he saw the exchange becoming heated.

"No problem." She smiled directly at Jack before turning to the man with contemptuous distain, "Our conversation IS over," and upon turning back to Jack she gave him a dismissive wave of the hand. She knew it was unnecessarily rude as she did it but his unpleasantness seemed to provoke her.

'Who the hell does she think she is?' "Our conversation is not over you are going to give me that dog and I will pay you in kind." A discernable note of anger seethed through his veiled attempt at civility.

"I think you better leave." Jack said and started to move towards the end of the bar.

"Hold on Jack. I don't know who you are and you expect me to sell you my dog? Why don't you fuck off to whatever cess pit you crawled out off!" She spat with such venom that there was a sudden hush in the pub followed by stares and whispers.

Vincent turned on his heels and was out of the pub in flash, a second longer and he would have snapped her neck and to hell with the consequences. 'No, I'll get them when they leave. Her impudence deserves a more unusual punishment than a quick death, haven't had a good hunt in ages.' He chuckled to himself then mused to the wind "so much for feeling bored" as he slipped into the shadows of the street.

"What a creep! Have you ever seen him before?"

"No, and I don't think it was too clever to be so rude to him, he seemed unstable."

"You're right. I couldn't help myself, I don't react well to intimidation well, and that he wanted Beauty." She looked at the sleeping dog with tender concern, "I feel very protective towards her, and there was something truly nefarious about his interest, I shudder to think what," She sighed and took a large swig of her drink.

"Maybe he thought she would be the perfect accessory for his look." A deep cheerful voice interjected.

"Hello Matthias. You saw that?" Jack greeted the man who had stridden over and promptly sat next to Astor.

"It was hard to miss!"

"I wanted to introduce you two anyway, Astor-Matthias-Matthias-Astor."

"Hello."

"My pleasure." He said with a warm smile.

Matthias had been sitting in the corner reading when he felt Vincent come in. Surprisingly his old rival had failed to notice him, the dog had been the complete focus of his attention.

Matthias had also noticed the girl with dog come in; it was hard not to. She was strikingly beautiful, about 5'8, svelte and she moved with a lithe grace, her long curly brown hair fell to her waist, a contrast to her pale skin. She had a refined faced, Slavic cheek bones, a large characteristic nose that complemented her full sensuous lips, but it was her light hazel eyes that captivated him, they had a mesmerising darker outer ring and they sparkled with vitality and intelligence. He knew this must be the woman that the old man talked so fondly about, which was confirmed by their greeting.

Matthias had just moved back to London and had been coming to this pub for the last few weeks, whiling away his evenings in the simple conviviality that most pubs had either exchanged or surrendered to bland homogeneity. The thought, that circumstances had brought Vincent to this random space and time, after not meeting in over sixty years, filled him with fatalistic trepidation. He hadn't taken much heed of the dog but his curiosity was definitely now piqued.

"You should be careful who you shout that mouth off to that man is dangerous."

"How do you know?" she asked surprised by his certainty even if the other man was entirely sinister in his demeanour.

"Oh one can just tell these things," he nonchalantly replied, he knew Vincent all too well and with a tone of grave sincerity added, and with blatant intent, "but I think it would be wise not to walk home alone."

"Is that an offer?" she beamed, picking up on his flirtatious proposal, thinking he was probably quite right, and not averse to the man's good looks.

She was instinctively drawn to Matthias, she figured he was in his early thirties but he had an old world charm that spoke of sophistication and elegance. At 6'4 he was lean and his frame was perfectly suited in a pair of black jeans and an off white silk shirt donned under a green tweed blazer. He had a long face balanced by a strong jaw, a straight nose and a prominent brow. Deep blue eyes were offset by his short wavy dark brown hair, and he had lips, Astor couldn't help but think, that would be delicious to kiss.

"Well I think that's an excellent suggestion, you'll save me the trouble." Jack chimed in, feeling somewhat smug at playing matchmaker.

Jack knew they would have plenty in common, Matthias was an antiquarian and Astor was a bibliophile. He had liked Matthias almost immediately when he first came to the pub a few weeks back, he was clearly intelligent and good humoured. He had also endeared himself to Fran as he spoke fluent Spanish but she had balked at Jack when he suggested introducing him to Astor.

It had been too long since Astor had taken pleasure in a man, and his concerns for her well-being far outweighed his protectiveness towards her. After Karl, she had spent a year at an Indian retreat in solitude, and since having been back in London for six months she had shunned most social situations, and though she seemed content, and Beauty had given her companionship, she deserved to know the love and happiness that Fran and he shared. His beautiful gitano drifted before his mind's eye, and he longed for her to return.

...

Music resonated throughout the compound; a chorus of rhythmic clapping and stomping feet accompanied the sounds of the flamenco melody being strummed by two guitarists. Cries of encouragement came from the crowd that encircled the dancing couple. They did not touch but their movements were counterpointed to heighten the anticipation of their desire, a prelude to the coming corporal union of the newlyweds.

Fran enthusiastically joined in the celebration, the intonation and beat were ingrained in her, it was always through music that her family came together. In her forty years of marriage to Jack she hadn't been home more than a handful of times, and at that for not more than a few days at a time; she hated being apart from Jack and her family rarely let outsiders in.

They hadn't directly ostracized her for marrying Jack, but everyone was resigned that this was the way it had to be. Jack had easily accepted the mysteriousness surrounding her family, what did it matter to him when in no way did it affect their relationship? She knew he wouldn't bat an eyelid even if he did know the secrets of her kin, but it wasn't a risk she had the right to take when it protected the lives of so many.

The last two weeks had been dramatic, or perhaps she was unused to the melodrama? No, the apprehension in the camp was justified; the wedding celebrations of the past few days had eclipsed the forebodingness that hung like the shadow of a dark rain cloud.

Fran turned to her sister; Nina was eight years younger than her, but she looked at least ten years older, her face was wizened and her hair completely white, her brown eyes had dulled and were speckled with red spots. Fran at sixty four however still retained some darker pigment to her otherwise short grey curly hair, her light brown eyes were bright and sharp, and though her face was lined she didn't look old.

Nina was dying and Fran couldn't help but feel some guilt over her sister's premature departure. She knew her sister didn't hold her responsible, but an intrusive thought kept telling her it should have been her instead.

"Stop it." The old woman remonstrated her but lovingly grasped her hand, knowing her sister's concern, knowing, she wouldn't be around to the face what was to come.

The dance finished in a frenzied yet controlled crescendo. The couple moved from the centre circle and extricated themselves from the congratulations of the jubilant crowd. Holding hands, exhilarated from their dance, filled with yearning, Carlos and Ramona ran off into the night.

The crowd began to disperse; the children were sent to bed; the lovers; their passion enflamed from the dance, they too retreated to their cabins not caring what tomorrow might bring.

...

Matthias and Astor had been in deep conversation since their meeting. Matthias hadn't learnt anything from Astor or the dog that indicated a possible reason for Vincent's interest.

Beauty seemed like a normal dog, Astor had said she was smarter than most people, but he shrugged that off as owner pride, and his own experience of people had led him to believe that most were also none too bright. But there had to be something, and even if there wasn't he knew Vincent wouldn't care, after all, the girl had insulted him.

Matthias did learn that he liked the girl. She was self-possessed and courageous, but she also carried an air of vulnerability, and it invoked in him some atavistic urge to protect her. That she was mutually attracted to him was a given, few women were immune to his charm, though many were uncomfortable by their lustful craving. Astor was clearly at ease with her sexuality, and was quite uninhibited in her own wanton desire.

Astor couldn't remember the last time she met a man who really interested her let alone aroused her. Most men became intimidated once they realised she was obscenely rich and fiercely intelligent, but Matthias seemed to share a background of privilege. When he had asked what she did for a living? She crudely replied "I'm rich." He brazenly smiled at her and said "Excellent, I sell things to rich people."

It was 11.30pm and the last few customers had finally left. Jack bolted the door of the pub and cleared the remaining glasses and then joined Matthias and Astor to finish the last quarter of the Talikser. "So how many books have you bought?" he jokingly reprimanded her as he sat down.

"Ah, you know me so well." She said with a mischievous grin. "So far? A few nineteenth and twentieth century first editions, Baudelaire's, Les fleurs de mal, Rimbaud's, Illuminations. Though I'll send those to the chateau." She added wistfully.

"A couple of Oscar Wilde's, a signed copy of In Cold blood and we discussed a few others, but we've decided it would be best if he just peruses my library and tells me if he has anything else to enrich it."

"I should charge commission for introducing you!" he teased.

"How about I buy you lunch tomorrow instead?"

"Deal. Anyway I wanted to discuss presents with you for our fortieth next month."

"Sure," then immediately suggested, "You should take the boat for a week."

"You have a boat?" Matthias asked.

"It's a sailing yacht," Jack corrected her, "and she has a plane too."

"You're embarrassing me."

"Don't be embarrassed sweetie." Matthias assured her.

"Anyway, the boat was from my divorce settlement and the plane, well it is an extravagance, but I'm terrified of flying and otherwise don't think I would, even if I couldn't afford my own plane!"

"I didn't know you had been married?"

"Why would you? Besides it's not something I talk about, it happened and that's that."

Even through her apparent stoicism Matthias could see that her marriage was not up for discussion, even the brief mention of the subject brought pain to her eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and ease the pain away.

"We can discuss the boat tomorrow. It's getting late and an old man needs his sleep."

"You're not old, but hint taken. Sounds like the rain has stopped," she turned to Matthias "I doubt I'm in any danger but will you still be escorting me home?"

"Mais bien sur."

Astor kissed Jack goodnight and told him she'd be over at midday. "Come on sleepy head." She said tugging at the slumbering dog's lead. Beauty took her cue from Astor, she got up drowsily and headed with her to the door.

Matthias wished Jack good night, and was informed with a firm handshake and a somewhat threatening look that warned he better look after her. Matthias nodded in understanding, before following Astor out the door. Jack was smiling smugly to himself at playing match maker, he re-bolted the door and headed upstairs to bed.

...

'There you are.' Vincent watched from the Crown's rooftop as Astor and Beauty emerged onto the street, his eyes twinkled with mirthless glee, then immediately widened in disbelief as Matthias walked into view. A flurry of thoughts barged through his head; 'Does he know about me? Does he know about the dog? Is it just a remarkable coincidence? Or has he too been sent by someone?'

The first of these questions was soon answered. Matthias quickly turned and even from afar looked him directly in the eye, he looped the girl's free arm in his and the threesome walked off down the street.

'Tricky but interesting,' his lips curled, 'the game has begun my friend I hope you're ready to play,' he cackled to himself before vanishing down the chimney. ...

"We're here." Astor said, stopping outside a stuccoed white Victorian townhouse. "Would you like to come in for a drink?" she asked seductively, her mouth forming into a pout, begging to be kissed.

"I think you know that I would." He stated and then in one fluid action, grabbed her by the arm, drawing her to him, their bodies pressed close, before their lips met in a fervent kiss, their tongues tentatively touched .