When Mike had said he knew someone who would share a flat with her,Jane had expected… Well, she hadn’t been expecting anything particular but certainly not this.
The day had started like the other ones with her morning routine — apple, coffee, staring at her empty blog — and her session with Ella, her therapist. She had been surprisingly happy to meet Mike at the park. Back in uni, he had been one of the few people to accept Jane’s bisexuality.
Anyway, Mike had brought her to Bart’s and the both of them were now standing in a laboratory. Before them, a tall woman was manipulating the scientific instruments with extreme precaution. She hadn’t even reacted when the two friends had entered.
She was… Well, by Jane’s standards, she was beautiful. Black straight hair was surrounding a pale and bony face, stopping just above her shoulders. Grey eyes like those of Athena, full of intelligence and danger, were fixed on the experiment. She was wearing a purple shirt, the two top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled-up to the elbows, and black trousers that were doing wonderful things to her already long legs.
Jane suddenly felt self-conscious. She had never really put any effort in her appearance. Nervous, she passed a hand through her short brown hair — ‘boy cut’ as they called it — and pulled on her jumper to arrange it a bit. ‘It’s different from back then,’ she said to fill the silence. Thankfully, her time in the army had taught her to hide her thoughts and emotions deep inside.
‘You have no idea,’ Mike chuckled. He was playing with a tube of blood near the experiment table. If she didn’t know him better, Jane would say he looked like a psychopath.
‘Mike, can I borrow your phone?’ the woman asked, long fingers now tapping on a keyboard. Her voice was deep and soft, like a river running on pebbles or the wind’s murmure in a meadow.
Mike let go of his tube to search his pockets. ‘Sorry, it’s in my coat,’ he apologised.
Jane, hypnotised by the stranger, didn’t think about it twice. Her hand seized her own phone as her lips moved on their own. ‘Here, use mine.’
The woman rose her head quickly and to look at her. Her pale lips parted as if to let an unspoken ‘Oh!’out. A black lock slid along the white cheek like shadows on the snow. Grey eyes were piercing Jane whose ears started to burn. She had to blush, didn’t she?
Whatever the other woman was looking for, she must have found it because, the next second, she was walking toward Jane and taking the phone. Jane couldn’t repress a shiver when their skins brushed. There was a warm sensation inside her chest she hadn’t felt since… Before the army, probably. God, it had been a long time since Jane had had any sort of intimate relationship. Intimate relationship? What was she thinking? She didn’t even know her name yet!
‘Jane, this is Sherlo—‘ Mike started.
‘Sherl,’ the woman cut him. ‘Call me Sherl.’ Silence fell back, awkwardly. Jane shifted on her feet. She didn’t know what to say. ‘Army doctor.’ The words had been whispered, as if they weren't meant to be heard, or even spoken. If Jane hadn’t seen Sherl’s lips move, she would have thought she had dreamt it.
‘I’m sorry, what?’ she asked, glancing at Mike who had a smug look on his face. Sherl rose her head.
‘You’re an army doctor. Coming from Afghanistan or Irak,’ she repeated, eyes on Jane, fingers still taping. ‘Do you like the violin?’
‘The vio- Why?’ Jane blurted out.
‘I play the violin when I’m thinking,’ she explained. ‘Sometimes, I don’t talk for days. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should now the worst about each other.’
‘I don’t— Who told you about flatmates?’ Jane asked, shifting and glancing at Mike.
‘I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult woman to find a flatmate for. Now, here he is, after lunch, with a friend clearly home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn’t a difficult leap. There’s a nice little place, in central London.’ By the time she had finished talking, she had a blue scarf around her neck and was shrugging a long black coat on.
‘I don’t even know wher—‘ Jane opposed.
‘The adress is 221B Baked Street. Tomorrow evening, 7pm. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’ve left my riding crop in the mortuary.’ And on those words, the mysterious woman called Sherl had disappeared in the corridors.
Jane looked at Mike. Had this really happen? He still had this smug smile on his lips.
‘Yes, she’s always like that,’ he said. At the same time, the door opened again. Jane spun on her heels, hoping to see Sherl. Instead, a young woman in her twenties with brown hair fastened in a ponytail and a white coat entered, a cup of steaming coffee in her head. She looked around and looked disappointed when she couldn’t find who she was looking for.
‘Is Sherl gone already?’ she asked no one in particular. Jane looked at Mike before answering.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘She’s left her, er… Riding crop? In the mortuary.’ The young scientist nodded before exiting the room, probably to return to the mortuary.
Jane smiled interiorly. Whatever this was, it was going to be interesting. For the first time in long while, she had hope.