Jack and Silver

Jack Goldsmith squinted through his lashes and looked at the girl staring at him with wide blue eyes. She was gazing at his face and then her eyes widened even further as she looked at the rest of him, and her gaze turned into a scowl, and her skin turned the colour of pink summer roses. Bloody hell, women never scowled when they saw that part of his anatomy. Perhaps it was because he was as naked as the day he was born and lying on wet grass at the edge of the forest at ten o'clock on a wild, wet and windy night. She trembled over him, apologising that she had caught him with her Land Rover. Though, if he was honest, she hadn't knocked him over, but his wolf Silver.

Jack checked in with Silver, who seemed to be fit, but the image he received was of the wolf with his paws over his eyes. It wasn't often he caught an apologetic stance from Silver. The car had just caught his back leg as he was belting across the road, and in mid-air, he had changed back into a man. "Sorry, Jack, I wasn't thinking about traffic. We never had this problem with horse and carts." Silver had never been happy with the internal combustion engine. He was old school.

The girl's wax jacket was dripping - on him, on his… No. No. No. He wasn't even going to think about that. This was embarrassing enough without adding to the affair. She dropped a blanket over him, brightly coloured with wiggly stitches, and she ran to get her phone to call an ambulance. Oh, for god's sake.

"No, no ambulance," he gasped, and brain linking to his wolf. "Hi-ho, Silver, let's go home." 

Silver pushed the boot room door open. He was gentle ever since he had pushed the door open, and it had off the hinges for the third time. Jack had threatened him with a wolf-flap, but that Amazon guy didn't seem to make those. It was insulting, he was not a cat. He shook the rain from his fabulous Silver coloured coat and turned back into Jack just as the hall door opened.

"Bloody 'ell Jack, I don't need to see that first thing of an evening," said Clint. The vampire - housemate and friend to Jack - put his long white fingers over his eyes as Jack, still naked, was bending over to pick the blanket up from the floor. "'Ave you been to Granny Talbot's knittin' class," asked Clint with a grin. He looked at the blanket as Jack wrapped it around his waist, "Sorry, crochet class,"

Jack raised his brow, "I refuse to ask how you know that's crochet,"

Clint shrugged as he put his motorcycle helmet on, "One girl at work, crochets blankets for the babies on the ward."

"What's with the helmet? Asked Jack, knowing that Clint could just vanish in an instant and appear at his workplace.

"I'm picking Liv up. Someone nicked her car, which I'm sure they will regret once I've found them," he said, waggling his eyebrows and licking his lips.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Does Liv know you have er… funky teeth?"

"Covid mate, it's a bloody godsend for vampires. I have a mask on all the time at work. I mean, my fangs appear when I'm hungry or when someone tasty comes in. But with the mask on, I can hide all that." he said with a grin.

Jack shook his head. He'd met some strange creatures in his life. Still, none were as odd as Clint Walker. Which was the name he had taken once he had watched 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' and had a bit of a vamp-crush on Clint Eastwood. He was a vampire, doctor, charity worker, and a kind, good-hearted soul, even if he didn't have one of those. He was a couple of hundred years older than Jack, and the fascination with the human body was Clint's raison d'être, even in those far-off days. Jack had found him in a churchyard digging bodies up so that he could examine them. That was how he'd become a Vampire. The guy had dug a body up, and it wasn't as dead as it should be, and the old Vamp wasn't too happy that he'd had his beauty sleep disturbed. These days, Clint was a Dr at the local hospital, and he gave his wages to the local charities. He didn't need money; neither of them did. They had made millions over the years.

The next morning Jack's housekeeper, Edyth Hargreaves, washed and dried the blanket. Edyth was not of the 'otherworld', but she was not an unbeliever, which was unusual for a no-nonsense Yorkshire woman. Edyth took everything in her stride. When she had caught Jack changed to Silver, Edyth just carried on vacuuming. She warned Silver that if he wanted a gravy bone, he'd have to get off that sofa and behave himself.

During the coffee time, Edyth said, "Someone has moved into Honoria Talbot's cottage. It must be her granddaughter. Nora told me she would be coming to live here."

"Ahh, that's who the blanket belongs to. I'll take it over and introduce myself," said Jack scoffing Edyth's homemade ginger biscuits.

"Well, don't let Silver out. Nora had some delicate ornaments, and Silver's tail can be a menace. Besides, not everyone likes a Lycan rubbing up against the paintwork."

"It's a good job I like her ginger biscuits," Silver murmured.

Jack took the car to Granny Talbot's. He had the blanket folded and a box of Edyth's biscuits on the car's passenger seat. It wasn't far to the Talbot cottage, much nearer to his house as the crow flies, but it was a couple of miles to go all around by road.

Jack parked his car on the road, walked up the drive past the Land Rover, and knocked on the door.

Saffy's heart jolted when she heard the knock on the front door. Finding that note this morning had put her all about. Her grandmother was dead, so who the hell wrote that note and cleared it away. She was sitting on the sofa and had been for most of the day. Would she walk into the ghost of her granny? Would she wake up and find her sitting on the bed?

She went to open the door. It was a man, a very tall man. "Can I help you?"

"I've brought your blanket back, and some of my housekeepers wonderful ginger biscuits s a thank you for trying to rescue me."

"Oh, it's you? sorry I didn't recognise you with your clothes on." Saffy gave a slight grin,

Jack raised a brow and quirked his mouth, "I suppose that comment was par for the course," he half-heartedly grumbled. Silver was rolling on his back. His tail wagging like crazy and with his mouth open and laughing as much as a wolf could. "Fuck off, you oversized poodle," Jack said, linking to Silver, which made Sliver roll about even more.

"Good morning, Mrs Talbot," he said, looking over Saffy's shoulder and raising his hand in greeting.

"Er, just hold your horses matey, who are you talking to," Saffy demanded, spinning around to see if anyone was there.

"Mrs Talbot, she's your grandmother, isn't she? What's your name, anyway?"

"Saffron," she said, spinning around again. "Where is she?"

"Who?"

"My grandmother?"

"I think she went to put the kettle on," Jack said, nodding towards the kitchen.

Saffron ran to the kitchen, there were three mugs with tea-bags in them, and the kettle was near-boiling. "Oh my god, I can't bear this," as she ran back out of the kitchen straight into Jack's chest.

"Whoa, stop," Jack held her arms, holding her in front of him and then pulled her to him. He could feel her hot gasping breath against his chest, through the material of his shirt. He was sorry for her to be dragged into this life of the otherworld. Jack guided her back into the kitchen and sat her down at the table. He made the tea and took one mug to Granny Talbot, and then sat down opposite Saffron.

"Now tell me what's going on?"

The tears ran down Saffy's cheeks, "I'm sorry, you must think I'm crazy." she pulled a piece of kitchen roll off and wiped her eyes and nose.

"Have some tea. Everyone feels better after a cup of tea. From what your granny says, you can't see her?"

Saffy looked at him as if he had two heads, "Of course I can't bloody see her. She's dead, Kaputt, shuffled off her mortal coil, like that parrot."

"Do you know your granny at all, Saffron?"

"I never met her. She and my mum had a huge row. She wasn't part of my life at all. I was so surprised when I got a letter from the solicitor to say that she had left me this place."

"So you don't know of her… Lifestyle? "Jack asked tentatively.

"Lifestyle? She was an old lady. What kind of lifestyle could she have? I doubt it was throwing her mobility scooter keys in a bowl at her neighbour's drinks parties."

Jack made a face, "Hmm, it might have been her broomstick keys, or whatever they used to get it to fly."

Saffron stared at him, open-mouthed. "Don't be ridiculous. You're saying that my grandmother is a witch?"

"Have you been in there?" he asked, pointing to the door to the strange storeroom.

"Of course I have," it's just a… an old storeroom for silly remedies. Saffron stood up and poured the rest of her lukewarm tea down the sink. "If that's all you can suggest, then I think you should leave. How ridiculous. Witch indeed."

Jack shrugged his shoulders. He knew that Saffron would have to face this eventually. She was a witch, a powerful one, and getting her to realise that would be difficult.