VI. STAYING A WHILE

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- STAYING A WHILE -

The door of the clinic jingled as Rose quickly closed the door and locked it. She waved to the factory men as she walked by, her heels clicking on the pavement en route to the Garrison. The walk had become a routine over the last weeks- a quick cup of tea before heading home.

Districted by a rare piece of blue cutting through the smoke filled sky, she rounded the corner only to slam straight in to the chest of a man going the opposite direction.

"Bloody hell, what is with this corner?" she muttered to herself, looking up at the man she had hit.

He was small and mousy, and he looked down at her with more disdain than she had ever seen. His lips, topped with a thin, black moustache, were turned down in a sneer.

"You say somethin'?" he asked, his eyes raking her up and down. Rose suddenly noticed the men standing behind him. Two of them were stone-faced giants, but the other offered her a small smile, tipping his hat.

"No, Sir. There just seems to be a pattern of me having bad encounters on this corner, that's all."

She tried to smile, but the sickly look on his face and his dark, slicked-back, hair, made her grimace.

"Well, you've run in to me; so they can't be all that bad." He winked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

She forced out a laugh, "No, Sir."

"Enough with this 'Sir' stuff, okay? A pretty girl like yourself ought to call me by my name."

The way he stood- she could tell he thought himself a ladies' man. He winked at her again, looking no less slimy than before.

"The name's Kimber. Billy Kimber."

She extended a hand- anything to make him stop staring at her.

"Roseanne King, Mr. Kimber. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going."

She went to move away, but he grabbed her wrist. His grip was not hard enough to hurt, but it made the blood broil in her veins.

"Where are you headed, Ms. King?"

"The Garrison," she said, keeping her voice as even as possible.

"I've just come from there. A total shit hole. That place ain't worth your time, love. Why don't you come with me and-"

"I think I can make decisions on my own, Mr. Kimber. Now, as I said, I must be going."

He stared at her like she was a puzzle that he could not solve. She glared at him, but he just laughed.

"I hope I see you around some time, love."

She shook off his hand and turned on her heels, not saying a word. Finally, as she swung open the door of the Garrison, she turned back to see the corner empty. A small shiver ran down her spine.

"Rosie!"

Whipping around, she saw Arthur, John, and a small, brunette woman sitting at the bar.

"Grace, a pint for the nurse," John exclaimed, waving a hand in the air.

"A whisky, actually, Grace," she said, taking a seat next to the brunette.

John and Arthur raised their hands to their mouths in fake surprise.

"Well, well, well, who are you and what have you done with little Rose?" Arthur said, his cheeks already rosy from drink.

"You all seem to forget that I was on the front lines. I can handle a bloody drink," she replied as Grace slid her glass across the bar. 

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