Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Funeral was over for just a couple of hours. Personages slowly withdraw from the place. It was cozy and dismal, the sky seemed to cry and escort Delilah in the freshly harrowed soil where her cousin Harper was situated. She continued to sob like a lost kitten, wiping her tears that continues to dry off her face. Until now, she couldn't believed that her cousin passed away, it was just like yesterday when they poke around themselves and threw mires. They even share common interests like listening to those old and grumpy tales of the folklore in the Northern heights of Manitoba, reading the Andersen fairytales that they both giggled and shrieked when books where stashed into pieces, slaughtered and killed-perhaps.
She touched the ground and continued to whimper in the chilly breeze of the Highgate Cemetery ground. It was one of those heroic deeds she did in her life. And of course she was held responsible for this after Harper's parents and husband disowned her like she was a gross beggar on the street executing hilarious clown shows just to earn a few dollars from the passerby while tossing her three year old daughter on her arm. Delilah hold her sobs and continued to recall those melodramatic memories she and Harper shared for how many years.
"Leaving without a goodbye Harper," she breathe out wiping the name plate of the tombstone. Her voice thrills and became frigid as she was gazing through the flowers, the cross and through the reality that Harper was gone. Delilah's face drew a mundane smile as frosty as the ices of the Arctic's. Sadness was inscribed into her face as she slowly stand on her feet waving for a goodbye.
"Goodbye Harper, goodbye," Delilah leaned and smiled assuring her friend that it will be her last sight of her.
Delilah scrimped a smile as she leaned towards the tombstone. She leave a bitter tear and scorched her eye on sight. Delilah knew that she had to do something, she swish her roseate in front of the laying Harper. Roofing the gauge out pit with her shadow. Her heels were planted on the soft soil while relenting the regrets and leaving the quondam behind.
Near King's Road, London
Three days later
Delilah almost jumped out of her chair in surprise as Mr. Gauss throw the 3-paged paper in front of her dining table. It even folded into half. She was eating her breakfast dutifully. A bacon and one of those roasted chicken she bought last night from Spitalfields Market around downtown. She lifelessly sip the orange juice which savored through her mouth before turning to the strangled paper in front of her.
"Breakfast Mr. Gauss," she heard herself without taking a glance. She whizzes the front page and silently read each words written in there. She hated the idea of reading such long sentiments and tedious papers, so she just skim the periodical-like thingy.
Mr. Gauss pulled a chair and ensconce oneself in front of Delilah, gazing at her for a second before grabbing a spoon and one of those menu in front of him–salad and friend chicken. He poured on the side of his plate a drop of gravy and started to dig the food like a voracious beast.
"A custody?" she asked whimsically. Presenting Mr. Gauss the value of the paper she was holding.
"Yes Ms. Grayve, that little daughter of Harper had no place to go, nor to stay," Mr. Gauss explained with contempt and delight as it continued to crisp the chicken on his mouth, gazing Delilah with satisfaction.
Mr. Gauss was one of those few scholars she knew. He studied in Oxford a medical course, became an honor student and landed a fine job in New York few years ago. But he wasn't so lucky to continue due to a family crisis, so he packed his baggage and return to London, his hometown to study and pursue his love and passion to court offices and reading those thick law books. There, both of them met two years ago and became her sole acquaintance who helped her in entrancing onto her current job- a tourist guide which she was very proud of. Speaking to tourists and presenting them the few beautiful spots of London and over the edge of the country. The mid-40 lawyer was also well known to solve many cases and of course it could be seen on the medals and trophies the legal practitioner vociferously told her- at least that's what Delilah knew in two years of escorting Mr. Gauss. The rest of the story were ambiguous and partly believable or not.
"So where is this little snippet?" Delilah asked cautiously, her voice were sharpen in excitement.
"She is in New York," the bookish lawyer answered directly. He's finished with his delightful and palatable breakfast and both of them are discussing the content of the upscale and skeptical paper.
"Why is she in New York?" Delilah painted bemuse in her voice and on her countenance following another question. Mr. Gauss whiffed for a second and started to spit words.
"Your unlucky cousin deserted her child. I guess she knew that her death was coming so soon or so she don't want the child to suffer in the tyrannical life off the street, digging and watching shoes from the passerby of London." The lawyer bitterly explained his thought, knowing that the sensitive woman could burst into tears for just a few painful words.
"So who is this person my cousin owes her betrothal of gratitude and leave Kristen in their fullest of authority," She reminisces the bubbly and squishy face of her cousin's child. Those rosy cheeks and it's refine thick hair, even the partly gray eyes were enough to intrigue someone of selling or making her a thrall.
Mr. Gauss cupped the slit of his envelope and pouch a few papers before handing Delilah a pleated old white mini envelope. It was bind tightly by a blue lace, tied in a ribbon shape.
The maiden swayed her hands horizontally acknowledging the lawyer's first-hand information. She firmly hold the paper, stare for a few moments. Her face looks worried and curious, like one of those investigators who waa always featured on suspense dramas . They are always enthralled with this puzzling idea of solving crimes. Which on her case, she wanted to find out who's responsible for the care of Kristen back in New York. The bubbly and beautiful girl could possibly be in a great danger and the poor little child didn't even knew about her mother's wretched fate.
Delilah slowly opened the white envelope, untying the tangled laces and carefully draw the freshly captured pictures out of it.
"So this is the man who's responsible for Kristen's needs." Delilah frowned at the sight examining the man featured on the photos. Two of the photos were clearly taken and the other one was of a side view. The man was preferably walking inside a shopping mall wearing a hat while little Kristen innocently holding on the edge of his shirt while gripping tightly on her pink bear on the left side of her body.
The man was not as bad as she thinks. It was probably at the age of thirty but a very pure and masculine man. The face was captivating and enough to be called as a very delightful and intriguing man- a bachelor - she thought. Broad shoulders and cogent golden brown eyes and long wavy lashes made Delilah's sensual passion arouse. Her inner piece was disturbed for a few seconds, she was deceived, tempted and raging with sexual desires all over her flesh. Any woman could be intoxicated in pleasure by this man, go wild and galloped all over his body. Anyone can be turned into a ferocious vixen, a whore or perhaps a sex-driven idiot just by gazing at its male harshness.
Delilah pulled her toxic hallucinations before her mere silence turned into an utter moan.
"Thank you so much Mr. Gauss, I'll see to it that Kristen will be in my place as soon as possible," she painted a quick smile on her face.
"So I think I must go then. If there's anything you wished to ask, just don't hesitate to make a call." Mr. Gauss replied in accordance. They both pulled their chair out in unison and shake hands before the vigorous lawyer flee from the place.
Delilah was left standing on the door holding the photographs on her hand. She sighed in relief knowing that Kristen was in the hands of a good morale man or a bachelor or so whatever. But she couldn't stop the stern cringe of her inner flesh whenever she puts an eye on those tempting pictures, she was perhaps crazy or attracted at first sight–but it was not usual for a woman like her to be attracted easily into such extent that she would think infatuatedly. On her twenty-three years of existence she was never bewildered on the wildly thoughts and visions of herself being on the top of the man's body wanting and rubbing fleshes with each other, it was at the least of her concerns- up until now.