Love Resisted (Entwined Hearts #2) Read Free Page B

the central heating on. I’d never started the fire before, but she was adamant that the fireplace had to be on, as it was the only thing that would keep her warm. She couldn’t possibly get up off the sofa to do it herself. So I loaded in the wood and then popped the kindling in as I’d seen her do in the past. I reached for the matches and pulled one out of the box. I was scared to light it. I hadn’t ever lit a match and was frightened it would burn my fingers.
    “Sophie! For goodness sake, get on with it. I’m getting worse by the second!”
    I struck the match against the sharp edge of the box to light it. Nothing happened. I tried again and this time the match snapped.
    “Sophie, if I have to come over there!” she threatened.
    I took a deep breath and the next match my shaky fingers retrieved I managed to light. With trembling hands, I leant over and held it to the kindling until it took and watched the flames ignite. I didn’t manage to pull myself back quickly enough though, and the ends of my hair caught the flame. Of course, my head was doused with hairspray as Mother fixed my hair with it every damn day. So the side of my hair quickly went up in flames, and as I was trying to put the flames out by hitting my head, they’d managed to lick behind my right ear.
    “Ahhh!” I screamed.
    “Here,” my mother said casually while throwing a pillow at me. “Use that to pat the side of your head, it should put the fire out.” She looked at me while I frantically patted away. “I was planning to buy new pillows, anyway,” she said almost as an afterthought to herself.
    “Mother my ear hurts,” I complained.
    “Oh, go and have a shower. Let some cold water run over it. You’ll be fine. The same cannot be said for your hair though. We will have to take you to the hairdressers and get your hair cut and styled in a way that it doesn’t show that significant chunk that’s now missing, thanks to your carelessness.”
    I felt my eyes brimming with tears, partly because my ear really hurt and partly because my mother just didn’t care.
    “Get me a glass of milk, before you go shower,” she said.
    I got her milk. Wishing I could tip it over her. Instead, I passed it to her and headed for the shower. My ear was so sore. I washed and cried and got into bed.
    The next day, I visited Pea’s gran, telling her that I had hurt my ear on the fireplace. I explained that I hadn’t told mother, as I didn’t want her to tell me off for playing with the fire. I’m not sure she believed me, but she did take a look. She cleaned up my ear and applied some cream which she gave to me, and told me to re-apply it regularly. She had looked down at me with her soft, sad eyes.
    “Soph, maybe you should tell her,” she had coaxed. “No Granny Pea, I don’t want her to be mad.” She had stroked the good side of my head. “Soph, she should know. I mean, you shouldn’t have to take care of this yourself. You’re only eleven-years-old, hunny.”
    And that’s how I remember the fire. My mother making me light it and injuring myself. She didn’t care, I don’t think she ever had.
     
    “Food?” Dane asks in his still kneeling position in front of the fire.
    “Oh, erm, yeah, food sounds good,” I mumble.
    Dane looks at me quizzically, his eyes going all squinty. “You okay?” he asks.
    “Yeah, sure?” I say, but it comes out as a question.
    Dane gets up and walks over sitting next to me. “You know, you can talk to me,” he says, and I wonder how many more people are going to say that to me today.
    “I know.” I stand up and move over to the fireplace to get warm.
    “Okay…I’ll just go and see what there is to cook,” Dane says walking out the room.
    Holding my hands out toward the fire and feeling the warmth on them forces my emotions to flood to the surface. I still love fire. It fascinates me. How it manages to decimate everything in its path.
    “There’s salmon, pork loin and chicken breast. What do