Part 1

It was the beginning of July. In a lonely street a man walked battling as the wind made howling noises , with the rain pouring down more heavily.

His legs quivered as he felt the rush of adrenaline in his body and something in his heart that he couldn't quite identify. He looked left and right at the road on both side that greeted a silence only seen in graveyards. But this was an odd hour.

2 p.m certainly was. No human in London streets could be fool to fight the little luxury of slumber from a hectic day, which only the treasured hour of night brings !

And no one more than him, knew it better !

------'--------

The distance from the hospital to his home was pretty long. But one of the professor who admired him, gave him lift everyday, so he'd not had to walk the entire distance.

Still, the rest, was a long walk and he was becoming to get tired.

He stretched out his hands, away from his body and tried to read the time on his quartz watch gifted by his father on his 16th birthday, under the shade of his open umbrella.

But it was so dense and dark even with the street lights on, that he was hardly able to see.

'Past two and a half! ' he mumbled to no one but himself. He was sure of it. Couldn't be any less. That much time it took to cover the distance from the "Croydon hospital" of London road, to the less accomplished place, he lived.

He could of course have taken the tube train or the bus , but it was the end of month and he was hard on cash. So he thought to save the last few bucks by walking instead. Plus it would also serve as a healthy move to his body muscles !

For the past one week, he was attending the hospital for his practicals. And it would continue for a year, and he was already facing the need of a home and the comfort of having someone ; where he could pour his burden--and talk about the mere hopes of recovering his wealth, so that at least he could manage the remaining time of attaining his medical degree !

God only knew, how he would manage the next few months !

***********

Sighing, he glanced over at the road through the glass he wore, but could trace nothing except silence and empty space. Pulling his raincoat further tightly around his body, he paced forward.

His steps more cautious and hurried.

It wasn't the fear of anything supernatural, like most people seem to fear, but the burglers; whom he'd the ill most luck, to have bumped into one night. And that was the only fear he held at his heart. Because that night more than losing, any expensive accessory, what he lost, where his books, those were worth thousands !

He'd saved his every earned penny to buy them and the moment he'd to part with their existance, the pain and despair had been excruciating ! Because it meant he'd to work an extra shift at that spiteful and worst places of all---the "night club"---to earn that amount of money again! And the mere prospect of it had taken every single happy thought and merryment from his face, that he'd been carrying, away!

The pat he'd earlier on the day, and applause he earned from the professor, for being the most attentive and hard working medical student in class, ebbed away in a whiff! All that was left was an outrage and violent disgust and pity on his own weaker self preservation !

The road bent and opened to a junction of three lanes. He--without hesitating took the left one.

Leaving " Islington Street " behind he raced toward "Barnsbury Square" and mutely calculated the time it will take for him to reach the not so popular, "Greenwitch". The eastern part of London was crammped with houses where poor and earning men lived with a sincere wish and proliferation, uplift their social stratum and be someone.

And he too was one among those few, in pursuit of achieving a marked position from where he could not have to dream about a full meal and a comfortable housing anymore !

The streets at other days were crowded even at night, but because it was morning and since rain has been constantly pouring for the whole day, there was not a sound he could hear. The lane seemed to be darker than the ones he'd been walking till now.

There was something sinister and obvious about the air and he'd felt it everytime he'd walked this area. But it didn't scare him. Although it did feel weird and the feeling lingered, until he'd crossed it and left the lane entirely.

But he knew this was the safest path he could have in as late an hour as this. Although Mrs.Rosemary---the landlady of the house he stayed ; had warned him to stay away from this particular lane. However She didn't reveal the reason, nor did anyone else, who had known its history. Once asked, but having received no suitable reply, he didn't ask again. But he had a suspicion, what it was.

Ghosts---!

Yes. The most obvious thing.

Having a haunted house in this very lane,that was close to the back of the local cemetery; no more explanation was needed. People seemed to have a penchant for mystery, so supernatural for them, was the easiest thing to hold on to !

And he didn't believe in ghosts. So the advice had been of no use to him. On the contrary, he found this to be more safer. The burglers obviously didn't pry here, not unless they were too desperate ! And besides this was the shortest route. So the whole thing was a silver lining for him !

The rain came on hard and the wind spiked his skin with cold bites. With an effort he steadied his swaying umbrella and held the books close to his chest with his left hand. A quick dinner and then he'd to start working on his thesis.

The more it rained the more cold it became ; and it mildy irritated him to think how hard it was going to be, to bear the night for him with only a thin blanket and no fire.

'Not having sufficient money could cause such severe discomfort ! If only he had enough riches to spend---afteral...there was a time his family used to own acres of land----!' he thought with some contempt.

The footsteps low but clear, reached his ears and he looked about him.

The rain had been so fierce and unruly that he could see nothing. He held the umbrella in his underarm and wiped the glasses and put them on again. And then he saw.

It was her.

It wasn't the first time they were meeting. He had seen her a couple of times even before. And he'd always noticed her standing in the same place--same corner. Her eyes half hidden by the hat and her face always behind the shadows. The figure slightly leaning against a door of an old house. In her toes she wore a pair of black pump shoes !

And that was how he saw her today too.

She gave him a smile that was somewhat close to sadness. The effect however, was like always, hauntingly beautiful. It was an errie feeling. Like he should not, yet he could not help himself from admiring.

He gave a smile as she came near. She didn't say anything and neither did he. They started walking.

It was always like that. She seldom spoke. And he didn't either. He was more comfortable in silence. It felt more natural to him. And he approved her company even more since she appeared to be just as same.

Presently they had hardly walked a step or two, since the rain bit hard on them and the vision in front his eyes were obscure. Besides now he wasn't alone. So he took steps with more ease. Somehow her company always assured him of a safe walk, why that he cannot tell.

But he was sure it had something to do with her presence which was gentle like a soft breeze yet strong and stout like a shadow of wind that secures but does no harm.

He had but only paused to feel his hand inside his pocket when he heard her voice. It was always a pleasant experience to hear her speak although she did that seldom. And when she spoke he was little baffled, then astonished, at her words, not because she said them but because of the fact that she remembers such a trifle matter !

Indeed he talked about it some few days ago, himself and he was in a sad state of mind when he uttered those words. But it was a fortnight ago. And he was a little taken aback to see her remember it still.

With little pain, he tucked his hand inside his vest pocket and brought out the watch crafted with a gold chain.

The watch was his grandfathers' and the only reminder he'd of him. It was the only possession he'd of his family, apart from an old two story house in the village of Wessex.

And though the hand watch was immensely old yet he prided himself on its solid beauty and curved design with its luminous gold tint. And he was in grief when he had discovered the minute hand, no more working! Therefore when she'd asked, he didn't try to hide the reason.

But he was astonished now as he handed her the watch.

Her pale fingers took to it and the golden case shined against her white skin. The street light gave it a whole new vision and he stared with a new found wonder in his eyes.

Only a minute or two she looked at it and then gave him back the watch. She asked him in her strikingly soft yet pale voice to hold it under the light and see if anything's broken. He answered there's no chance of any such thing happening since the watch is intact, only the minute wont work. It had no more qualm.
But she insisted again at having it checked and for just the sake of assuring her, he held it at an angle that the direct light from the street lamp hit its face.

And to his amazement, what did he see ?

Why--the watch in her beautiful golden chest, working like a gem !

It was perfectly alright !

He stared at it for some time then he looked about her.

She stood like she was standing before. The shadow still veiling her features mostly, like it was a part of her existence. He could therefore had no opportunity of observing her face. Unable to read any sign of knowledge there, he bent his head down once more and still found the watch, ticking just as fine.

He was a man who could well hide things, especially emotions, when he wanted them not to show and this was something he did often. He preferred it more, than expressing every single of his emotion with estatic joy. Besides he believed, educated people should be less inclined towards outward expression. They should have a certain hold on their emotions as well as careful about their revealation. He thought it's expected of them to be more collected. And all of it, no doubt made him peculiar. His friends, which were undoubtedly few, laughed at him and his belief, but he cared less. There was a pride on considering that he didn't belong to the majority ! And the thought, gave him an amazing amount of satisfaction !

Presently he was beyond astounded on discovering the sound and view of the hand-watch ticking in his palm. But his strong notion and pride on being a learned man, prevented him from any exclamation. Therefore; he meerly stared at it for a few seconds more and then shoved it back at the innermost pocket of his shirt.

They resumed their walk once again, and often he looked at her from the shade of his umbrella but he still failed to catch her face in proper light. She talked timidly and few words passed her lips, which were mostly about the books she'd read the previous day. Anyhow, he took part in the conversation from time to time as he liked such a book oriented subject. He liked talking about fiction, the characters and their art at length, and her vast knowledge of books, gave him that opportunity, which he availed with pleasure.

But a part of his mind, with its renewed interest, went on looking for that slight change in her tone.

But there was not a trace. She talked as innocent and naively as she'd been previously.

But he was sure the watch was dead, and in no condition to run on its own. And thus far he didn't have the money to repair it. Then how could it magically start working on its own ? A few moment ago he'd checked it as he liked to see it often, and it was dead then! Then how does it work now?

He was astonished. And he couldn't make out why. It was working, wasn't he supposed to be content with that? The memento of his grandfather was giving perfect time !

Yet he could not feel assured.

There has to be something he could not understand.

****************

At last she bid him good bye when they have reached the part of the lane where she always parted.

The rain still gushed and he thought to propose her and so he did. With a gentlemanly gesture he placed his request, trying to be immensely careful in his manner, so as not to offend her. As he was aware anything out of the way, could hurt a woman's pride, specially a lady like her, might take it as an offense.

Being a bachelor and never having the fortune of courting, he did have little idea about it. But he knew as much as the books he read, allowed him. And so his knowledge of women were derived from femmes fetales, from books across genres !

With a shy awkardness and aware of how his manner of proposal would sound, he lowered his eyes after he'd said it and looked away. He was taken aback when she addressed him by his name, with the unmarred kindness and realized, she still was standing close to his side.

" papa will worry--if I don't reach on time. But I sincerely thank you! At other times I would have gladly accepted your offer Mr.Abhay, as your company is nothing but enlightening to me! I take pleasure talking to you. " he could in the faint light, see her smile. Everything else was washed under the flickering rain drops.

He murmured in a slightly haltered, but a tone clear enough for both of them. "But the storm seems to be approaching--the rain is falling hard and fast ! It wn't be trouble for me to accompany you to the door! "

But with same politeness she declined. Her reason was that it would be past his time !
His house owner had a rule for the inmates. A minute past after that, made her severe. It strongly antagonized Mrs.Rosemary. And she'd heard this from him on their fast meeting itself.

But he was ready to antagonize even Mrs.Rosemary, tonight !

A passionate urge of securing her to her house door, posed in front him with more sincerity ! Therefore he professed the idea of dropping her home. And if she felt like, they could walk to the house he boarded, and have some tea. But the reply returned to him was same. She insisted him to carry towards his home.

He accepted. Wishing her a good night, he trodded along the eastern lane, the path muddy and wet under the heavy rain. The umbrella swayed from his hand more than once as the wind grew more strong, more firm. Silently he thanked to have taken the short cut, which he always glided now.

He was glad in fact as his steps strided more speedily, that he'd not had to extend his generous offer of entertaining her and sheltering her to his paid room. Because no matter how civil and good natured people knew him to be, an abrupt entrance of a beautiful damsel, could raise suspicion and enough murmur to ruin his image. And apart from his academic record, his patchless character, was the only thing he had, and he was adamant on keeping it that way ! He wouldn't allow his forefather's and his late Father's name to be blemished in anyway.

So it was a relief when she declined his offer of coming with him and although a little amount of shame did nag him for acting, as such like an hypocrate, but he recovered it, thinking that whatever happened, happened for the best. She was a lady and respected, he could vouch on that, so in no way, it would have pleased her parents or her family, whoever that consisted of and so he reached a state of mild satisfaction, of having done no such wrong. Besides she declined his offer, which he was ready to act upon.

"Shame! You were --in fact , you're besotted by her beauty! Accept it that it gave you an excuse to have her company for some more time--or maybe a whole night!? That's what you were planning! Did you not?!!" the other voice which was not his yet a part of him, spoke in his head. And he vigorously shook his head, like he was answering to someone else in front him. "No! Never! For a night--with a maiden--?!!! Impossible ! No way! I had no such plans! The least I could have done, would have been a little chat in my room with my plain routine dinner and then securing her a seperate room with help of Mrs.Mars and excusing myself to my own chamber and study through out the whole night, like I do everyday!" having said this to the other voice in his head, he felt somewhat calm and composed. It lifted the frail tint of conscience, through accessing his thoughts with a justified argument !

And fact was, in truth, he was a good man. Truly a boy who wanted to secure himself with a career that was respectful and blameless in the same time. And like he said, he had no malice in his heart, nor did his mind had any plans of taking advantage of a girl he liked very much.

And like the other boys of his age, he had not a corrupt mind. It was clean and most of the time only biology and human physiology, made its way there. No other thought harboured, and even if any thought of youth did strike there, it was rare.

By the time he reached the next curve, the thoughts of his night beauty, had ceased. Completely aware of the rain and the wet clothes that clinged to his body, all he craved, was for food and a dry cloth !

The night was windy and such a long tiring walk in rain, had made him cold. Violently shivering, he entered through the door, as old gatekeeper "Mathews-", opened and closed it behind him. And shrinking with cold and hunger, he at once ran towards his room, wishing desperately for a hot meal... !

------------to be continued

Note : My dear readers...do tell me how it was ! This is the first time I'm writing on this genre, so I need to know about your response. :) please review ! :)

P.S. The story will end on two parts and first part is here and 2nd will follow very soon !