All Saints

Cireuse à Chaussures

An awkward atmosphere had settled in between Joseph Descamps and Dahlia Beaufort. With every hour the tension grew but also the urge within them to mention the whole thing. Descamps feared her reaction, would she deny? Why would she? The fragility of it all was almost unbearable to handle. Dahlia didn't know if Descamps was aware of their rendezvous accompanied by her father due to the dire alcohol infested state he was in. She decided not to say anything for the sake of dignity and humiliation.

Dupin was first to bring it up that day in the morning thankfully he hadn't asked any questions. He simply said that he told everyone that you were a violent drunk which was worse but not as bad as everyone thinking he fought for a girl, which obviously wasn't true.

They had PE that day and Descamps was forbidden to play due his new found blindness in one eye. He sat on the bleachers watching the skinny boys squirm after the ball. To the girls dismay they had tight, blue, short uniforms that barely covered them. Dahlia hadn't shown this much bare leg since she was four. If her mother saw, she thought that her heart would stop beating in her chest. They looked like sailors as they shuffled into the far corner of the gymnasium clearly uncomfortable being under the thirty or so watchful eyes of boys. An uneven number of eyes thanks to Jean-Pierre.

That had been given a rope to climb. Dahlia looked up at its limp figure dangling from the sealing. Her mind was trying to figure out the best way to loop round the rope into a noose for her cold body to hang from. She sat with her hands wrapped around her knees looking at the celling. She could feel the eyes skim past her to move to the next girl probably Simone or the next girl next to her. Her eyes peal from the ceiling to give a nervous look at her surroundings and as soon as her eyes met Descamps, he forcefully tore his eyes away.

Michèle's brother had come waltzing in holding a chunk of his navy blazer in his hand. "Isn't that your brother." Simone nudged Michèle and she darted up walking towards him without a word. They were whispering and both look agitated. The rest of the girls slithered next to them listening in to the bickering. "Well didn't you check this morning before putting a blazer on?" Dahlia added her hand picking the side of his blazer to inspect brushed his ever so slightly. He looked up from his blazer for a moment at Dahlia with a strange look she swore she'd seen on some other familiar face.

He shook his head sighing at his predicament. "That's what I said, you've been so reckless these past days." Michèle agreed nagging him like a mother. Simone who could only look at Jean-Pierre also contributed to the conversation, "you have been so absent minded due to what happened." She hinted to the brawl and how in some way he had taken a students eye out with a punch. Annick said one of us was bound to have a sowing kit on us, "I'm afraid it would take too long." He thanked us all politely and pranced out of the gymnasium taking his blazer off. "He's such a charmer." Simone said abruptly, still swooning over him that she hadn't realised the girls curious stares.

Descamps watched the exchange with Jean- Pierre intently what could be going on now that was so important that he had gained all the girls attention. The whistle blew and the boys started flushing out to the locker room to change. Joseph Descamps remained. He only left when the last girl, Dahlia Beaufort had too, trying to ignore her at all costs today. Her head whipped back to look at him right before she slipped through the door. His fits slightly red and bruised up in bandages.

Class had become excruciatingly long that day and Dahlia had given up on listening. Instead she watched the ticking hand, counting each second of the hour she has left in the confines of the boiling room. The minute hand tirelessly ran laps around the clock. Only after a life time had passed the bell rang freeing its young prisoners at last. Everyone had shuffled to get their stuff and barged through the door to leave hastily. At once, all the students swarmed the courtyard. It has become so full one's body would brush the other slightly as they weaved through.

Descamps saw Dahlia wave Annick and the rest goodbye. He watched her walk and disappear in to the busy street. He decided to confront her, to follow her. He picked his pace trying to remember what street she turned to last time they had met like this. Finally she was there only 20 or so steps away from him. "Beaufort." Her last name slipped off his tongue to his own surprise. She stopped, she had recognised the voice beckoning for her to turn around. Her legs wouldn't move working against her will. Her head told to keep walking towards home, onwards and don't look back.

Something filled her, was it dread? She didn't know but it was nauseating. She finally had turned around to meet his face, "what is it now Joseph?" She complained loudly as she stomped towards him. He hadn't thought of what he was gonna say. His mind spiralled trying to find his words, "about Friday." He finally had the courage to bring up the events of that night. Dahlia had of course heard the rumours that floated around from the girls that Joseph Descamps had lunged at a boy that mentioned her name because he was a violent drunk. "Yeh what about it? You had all day and the rest of the weekend to bring this up." She complained acting as if she hadn't had the time to stand here in the streets with him. Acting as if she didn't want to dawdle about with a boy just incase her mother was lurking in the shadows.

"So you heard?" He asked hoping the opposite because he didn't want to give her any ideas. She clears her throat  and said out load what she had rehearsed in her head incase this occurred, "I don't need you to fight boys for me but your efforts were noted." She added unable to understand why he would do such a thing, was he trying to twist her thoughts in some wicked game. "I didn't fight for you." He stated bitterly looking at the ground, the creeping feeling of humiliation making the ends of his ears go red in the dark shade of a shop. She scoffed her arms folded, "then why did you?" She asked her eyebrow raised. His face screwed up quickly as he looked for an answer. "I just wanted to punch someone, I wasn't thinking straight now leave me alone." He exclaimed unable to handle her interrogative questions. Afraid if she had inquired any more she would uncover something he much rather have hidden. He rather make her think she was some violent drunk than other things.

Then he thought about something, he thought it was quite witty of him and his eyes lit up, "Don't you have match sticks to sell or something." He shrugged a clear mocking prod at their empty wallets. She gasped her face filled with shock and embarrassment. Her head looked around wondering if anyone was near to hear. No one could know, her mother would simply die. Her societal reputation tarnished in front of heiresses of companies was her mother's biggest nightmare. "Lower your voice, vermin." She said through gritted teeth. Descamps who was so amused would applaud himself, "hey I'll give some change if you polish my shoes, look we both know you need it to buy bread tomorrow." He broke into laughter immediately at his own words and the appalled expression she held on her face. "Shut up. In your dreams I rather be living on the streets then on my knees for you." Her tone held the snobbery and disgust of any heiress although she was not even comparable now, economically speaking. A sickening smirk weaved on his face, "You on your knees... In my dreams indeed." He said with mischievous wink that made Dahlia want to lunge at him to pull out his other eye. "Cyclops keep dreaming." With that she stomped off, fists practically shaking with rage towards the Beaufort's enormous, empty home. Cyclops the word formed into his mind making him almost quake in fit of rage. He stuffed his hands into his pocket fishing out a cigarette to drown this moment with. He slowly made his way home discarding the used cigarette on some path. Somehow he would find a way to get her back and he would surely enjoy it.

Writers note:
Dear fellow readers,
I want to apologise as I accidentally posted the wrong chapter that wasn't finished. Sorry for the confusion.

mes sincères excuses.