Have Faith

Chapter 3

"No one has ever become poor by giving." Anne Frank 

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Chapter Three

Through the pained haze, Cassian recognised the voice as a drunken Mr Towler. The man had obviously taken his money straight to the tavern.

Cassian cradled his bleeding head, and felt the glass in his skin as his eyes fluttered, unconsciousness wanting to take him. Warm blood was running over his fingers and pooling around him.

"You wretch!" cursed Mr Green.

Cassian could not see properly, but he heard the sound of a man falling to the ground. He could not be sure it was Towler.

He faintly heard footsteps running towards him. "Oh my goodness!" cried another voice, a female voice.

An angelic voice. Cassian smiled dopily. Perhaps he was dying again. His eyes closed and he fell from awareness.

***

Cassian was suddenly aware that he had a pounding headache. His right temple was throbbing, the pain encompassing his entire head. Instinctively, Cassian lifted a hand to support his temple.

This sudden movement elicited a gasp from someone sitting beside him. He was not alone.

Cassian's eyes opened slowly, and they were immediately assaulted by the light from a lamp situated beside him. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust before he could take in where he was.

He was in a room, one he had never seen before. It was dark, but he could see that it was a small flat, with a kitchen, sitting, and dining room all crammed into the tiny space. He was laying in the only bed.

He noticed Mr Green sitting at the little dining table, a bowl of something in front of him. He turned his head in the direction that the gasp had come from.

Cassian stared at her for a few moments, waiting for her to disappear. But she did not. Faith was not a hallucination. She was sitting beside his bed on a little stool, wearing the same concerned expression that she had three years earlier.

Faith's lips parted, but no words escaped. Her brown eyes glistened.

"Ouch," Cassian whispered.

Faith exhaled, her breath staggered. "Oh, Mr Kensington. Are you alright? I am so sorry. This was my fault."

Cassian frowned. The muscle movement painted him, as it felt as though he was pulling something. He wondered if he had stiches in his head.

Her voice had alerted Mr Green, who had risen from his seat. Cassian's driver was not standing at the foot of the bed.

"It was not you who struck me, Mrs Rowe," Cassian mumbled. His eyes flicked to Mr Green. His driver did not appear to have a scratch. "What happened to him?"

"Arrested," he replied. "An officer heard the noise and took the assailant to prison for the night. Intoxication and assault. I am sure they will contact you, sir."

Cassian nodded, immediately regretting the motion. It hurt. His eyes returned to Faith. She still appeared to feel incredibly guilty. She pressed her hands together and held them to her lips. Why was she blaming herself? She was not the one who had hit him with a bottle. Henry Towler was spending the night in prison because he was the one who was guilty.

"Mr Kensington, please forgive me," Faith whispered. "If I had not behaved so ... if I had never said a word ... oh, if only I had accepted Mr Towler's position then this would not have happened."