Silver Eyes Ch 01

CHAPTER ONE

'Double vodka coke and two pints of fosters, did you say?' Annette Fleming asked pleasantly.

The man at the other side of the bar smiled back at her nodding. God, she was pretty. He tried to catch her eyes again but she focused on getting the drinks and did not look back at him until they were ready.

Annette, or Netta as she was known to friends prevented herself from looking up at the near-drooling man that was making no attempt to hide his hungry stare. Ever since she started working in the quirky bar off the famous Oxford Street, different men had pestered her for her phone numbers; for drinks to be served to them; even offering to buy drinks for her. She had been as firm as possible with them, yet nice in her turn downs as the tips she got from them practically trebled her normal salary. She did not understand why they all thought she was so beautiful and had asked her best friend and flatmate Olivia about this after the first couple of days working at the bar.

'Are you mad, girl? Of course they're all ogling your goodies. With that hair, and smooth as cocoa-butter skin, and body and....bloody hell. What the fuck do you expect?' Olivia had answered exasperatedly. This was something they had argued over throughout their university days back in Bristol and she still could not understand how Annette was so oblivious to her amazing beauty.

Annette shook her head once more as she came back to the present. Although it had taken her one whole month of mastering the perfect art of nice rejection, she now had it down pat and her further two months of working there had seen no disturbance.

About three hours later, the bar was winding down and Annette finally allowed herself twist her neck, smiling inwardly as she heard the satisfying clicks. She ignored the look of disgust on Melissa's face, the other female bartender who worked on the ground floor with her. She was used to people practically recoiling from her when she clicked her neck. It was something she had done from childhood and she could not help herself. It felt like heaven whenever she did it. 'Well,' she sighed. 'Another night, another dollar.'

'Pound you mean,' Melissa sneered back. Annette rolled her eyes and did not bother to explain that it was just a phrase. There was no point in doing that as it would just cause Melissa to sneer some more about her being so clever yet working in a bar, same as Melissa herself who had quit school at the age of sixteen. Sometimes graduating from a Redbrick University with a First Class Honours in such a difficult subject as Law could be excruciatingly tasking.

'Okay guys, lets tidy up here and you can all get your money and sod off. Need you all prepared for tomorrow. Busy night, Friday nights you know.' The manager of the bar, David, an average slightly balding brown-haired man hollered at them as he was wont to do every Thursday night. Like they did not know Friday night was a pain in the arse; all the smug City types splashing their hard earned money on drinks that would be pissed out the next day, and pestering Annette whilst they did so. This was probably another reason for Melissa's hatred. She was an attractive enough girl, but clearly not as attractive as Annette as she never got the same attention the other girl got. No matter how much she gazed sultrily at them or pouted her lips. This angered her to no end as she was a closet racist and she thought all black girls where, by preference uglier than white girls. Plus, Annette was fatter than the average girl. Why, she was definitely a size ten or twelve, not like her, Melissa, who was a six. She glared at Annette again as the other girl wiped down the tables, humming cheerfully to herself.

Annette was oblivious to the intangible hatred emanating from the skinny sulky girl at the other end of the bar. All she could think of was her nice soft bed waiting for her, and, hopefully, some leftover lasagne which Olivia was sure to have cooked tonight. She was very lucky with the flat she shared with Olivia. She had met Olivia in uni back in Bristol as a fresher and they had become best of friends whilst studying the same course. They had lived together in their second and third years and, when they had graduated, had moved into the cosy yet comfortable flat Olivia's rich and doting father had purchased for her on Baker Street as a graduation present. Olivia had gone on to do her LPC in the College of Law as she had secured a training contract with the magic circle firm Allen and Overy. Annette, on the other hand with no training contract as she had never bothered to apply for one had gone backpacking in Australia for six months and Asia for the other six. Now that she was back, she decided that she did not want to work at all and would rather enjoy life earning whatever she could whilst doing so; this was the less important reason anyway. Olivia knew the real reason for her reluctance to work but it did not stop her from being exasperated as she, Annette had such an amazing degree, even better than Olivia's 2'1. It was not about the rent as Annette had enough money to pay, even though Olivia was very reluctant collecting money from her. It was the fact that Annette was exceptionally clever and Olivia had grown up in a house where brains had to be utilised. She had tried explaining this to Annette and the cheeky girl had replied to Olivia's frustration, 'Well, since I was practically raised in an orphanage, there were no expectations there so no harm done really.'

When Annette was through with her work, she waved a goodbye to David and Melissa, with the latter ignoring her as usual, and she walked out almost jauntily towards the bus stop. It was one in the morning and therefore too late for the tube so she had to use the bus, a mode of transportation she was not too fond of. No matter, she thought to herself and slipped her IPod earphones into her ears.

An act that she would come to rue, if only for a moment as it blocked out the footsteps that shuffled towards her quietly.

As if she felt the change in air, she looked up suddenly and realised she was the only person on the street. She turned to her left sharply and was too late to see the hard blow that landed on her face.

'Gimme your purse, bitch.' The unkempt looking man in the oversized hoodie growled at her, his partner laughing manically beside him.

She did something which shocked both men. She sighed. 'Seriously guys, I'm not in the mood for this, just go away and leave me alone. It's for your own good really.'

'Are you high, bitch?' the hoodied man asked again, looking at her incredulously. The other man, who was clearly high on something giggled uncontrollably. 'Yeah man, she high, man. High as me, come on cut the bitch and get her purse.'

Annette looked round to see if anybody was walking towards them and saw that the street was still empty. She turned back to the two hoodlums and saw the man in the hoodie bring out a knife from his pocket, 'I ain't messing with you bitch, gimme that purse or I'll cut your pretty face up so bad.'

Annette studied him coolly. This was something she tried to resist as much as she could. In fact in the past year, give or take a couple of months, she had not had to do what she was about to do. She smiled at the man and said, 'Come and get it then tough guy.'

The man growled wildly at her and rushed with the knife. She raised her hand ready to grab him and she heard a voice yelling from behind her, 'Hey, leave her alone you two!'

She whirled round in surprise and felt the knife slice at her raised arm, cutting deeply. By the time she turned back to the yobs, they had run away, the giggling one doing a scary impersonation of the Joker from Batman. She sighed and stared at the long, deep gash on her arm. She looked back at the 'saviour' who was running towards her as if he could save her from, well, nothing now. She quickly tried to hide her arm from the man as he caught up with her panting heavily.

'I saw...I saw him cut you. Are you okay? Did he cut you?' He grabbed her hidden arm roughly as if his eyes had healing powers. His worried gaze turned to confusion as he studied the perfect skin on her arm. No blood, nothing. 'But...I could have sworn...what...' He stuttered.

'Guess in his haste to run he missed.' She shrugged at this. Luckily the bus was coming towards her. She quickly put out her arm to stop it and got her oyster card ready. As it trundled to a stop in front of her, she turned round to her would-be saviour and said, 'Thanks for yelling like you did. You probably saved my life.'

He did not reply but just stared at something on her grey tracky bottoms mouthing silently as the bus door closed. She looked down to see what he was staring at and noticed the red smears and drops on her tracky bottoms and groaned. It was the blood that had spilled from her arm.

'Oh Bugger!'