The girl with no name, chapter 6.

The girl with no name is a story I started a year ago.

http://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/01/the-girl-with-no-name.html

It is about a young woman with severe memory loss, living in a mansion together with her grandfather. One day she becomes aware that her grandfather has a tenant for the boathouse next to the lake. Despite her loss of memory and her almost zombie like existence she gets curious.

Well....actually....the girl with no name is a sequel to another story....I wonder if people can guess which.

The girl with no name. Chapter 6

She opened her eyes and looked in to the amazing ocean colour of his eyes.

The big smile that appeared on her face drew dimples that only showed at the rare moments she was really happy.

"You beautiful mother fucker...you scared me." She whispered.

His mouth found hers and silently they kissed.

For a short moment his lips left hers and he said:

"I thought you were dead..."

With her index finger she wiped away a tear in the corner of his eyes.

"I was dead, Eddie."

His two hands clasped her face.

"Oh my love...that moment when I saw you being hit...I..." He shivered while a tormented moan left his mouth.

"Edward!" A stern voice sounded.

And more friendly the old man said while he approached the bed in which the young woman and the hypothermic man were covered in a pile of blankets:

"Edward...it is perhaps better to leave the events of the past to Hálwen herself to remember. Don’t try to haste things..."

"Grandpa..." Hálwen pushed herself up from the bed.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not there."

"I'm sorry, child." He laughed.

"This is all a bit awkward and unreal. I forgot you were always such a perky individual.

I'll take Edward's temperature, if that is all right with you - and go back to the house. I'm sure you both won't mind a nice warm soup."

When the grandfather left the boathouse, both Hálwen and Eddie looked at each other.

Abashed.

Like two children left alone in a room with a big pie, excessively decorated with cream and icing, they stared in each other's eyes until Hálwen shyly averted her eyes.

"How...how are you feeling?" She cleared her throat.

Edward furled his brow. Pulling her back under the sheets.

"Hungry." He grunted as he grabbed her butt and pushed her up against him.

The old man, William, was in the kitchen preparing to warm a sturdy broth and putting three bowls on a tray to take back to the boathouse.
"Nothing like a full vegetable soup." William mumbled.
"Oh." Suddenly he remembered he had to make an urgent phone call.

When he walked to his study he heard a sound...like breaking glass.

The silence.

"Miles?" William called.

Nothing.

When he picked up the phone to dial the number on the vintage telephone he heard another sound. William shook his head and concentrated on the call he was going to make.

"District Police, how can I help you?"
"Oh, yes.... good evening.... I would like to report an assault.... possible attempted murder."

A firm hand grabbed around the fragile old man's.... forcing him to break the connection.
"No, sir.... no calls."

Then the old man felt something crashing down his head.
He saw the two men, before he collapsed and everything went black.
"Hàlwen." He croaked...in a sad attempt to warn his granddaughter.