by Ali McNamara
‘I’m not. I just feel like having a drink tonight, that’s all.’ And I do. I’m suddenly sick of all this time-travelling nonsense. Of trying to figure out not only what’s happening to me, but what’s happening to everyone else around me too.
We’re on our third slammer, and just waiting for a fourth, when I spot Harry at the other side of the bar. He’s sitting on his own, sipping from a glass of whisky. I’m about to wave and shout hi, when he looks across at us. And the look he fires at me is filled with such disapproval that its intensity alone almost knocks me from my stool.
My head drops towards my chest in shame; I don’t want Harry seeing me getting drunk on shots. Then I reconsider that thought. Why should it matter to me what Harry thinks? This Harry anyway – I don’t really know him. Plus, what right does he have to judge my behaviour, especially if Ellie and Lucy are right about him?
‘Excuse me for a moment, Ellie,’ I announce, climbing carefully down from my stool and rearranging my skirt. ‘I have something to do.’
Ellie doesn’t take a lot of notice of me – she’s too busy right now, fending off the advances of a rather large and sweaty city banker who’s introduced himself as Rudolph. Rudolph, unfortunately for him, sports an alcohol-induced red nose to match his rather unfortunate name.
As I approach him, Harry’s just left his seat at the bar and is making his way towards a door marked Private, in front of which is a burly bouncer. But this doesn’t stop me. I don’t drink much usually – a couple of glasses of wine are typically my limit. In fact, since I’ve been time travelling I’ve probably taken in more alcohol of varying sorts than I have ever done before, so three slammers in the short space of time we’ve downed them in are making me feel very confident about life.
Tottering slowly across the shiny club floor in my red heels means I don’t quite reach Harry before he disappears through the door, and the bouncer steps in front of it again.
‘Jo-Jo, hi,’ a voice in the crowd calls, and I see Lucy expertly weaving her way towards me. She carries a tray with some glasses and an ice bucket chilling a bottle of Bollinger champagne.
‘Hello again,’ I call over the noise in the club; I glance towards the closed door where Harry has just gone.
‘What are you doing here so soon?’ she asks, leaning in towards my ear so I can hear her. ‘Guests of Ringo again?’
‘No, we’re just here for… pleasure,’ I improvise.
She looks surprised. ‘Really? I didn’t think this would be the sort of place you’d come out of choice. Your friend Ellie told me what you do when we met the other day, so I know why you’re here.’ She nods her head towards the closed door. ‘You after him?’
I look at Lucy, and wonder whether I should trust her. ‘Yes,’ I say, deciding to.
‘What’s Ringo done?’
Ah, so that must be Ringo’s office? ‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘Ringo’s all right. It’s that Harry you wanna watch.’
What’s Harry done to everyone?
‘Really?’
‘Yeah,’ she nods. ‘He’s trouble. Look, I gotta go; that lot will be wanting this in a minute. She tosses her head in the direction of a rowdy bunch of city types over in the corner who’re downing champagne as if it was water. ‘Watch out for yourself, Jo-Jo. There’re some nasty people about.’ And she begins weaving her away across the club again, the tray held above her head.
Damn! I’m torn about whether to go after Lucy and ask her more, or to try and pursue my original prey, Harry. My decision is made when a scuffle suddenly breaks out in front of me, as two city men argue about whose eighties haircut is the silliest, or something equally unimportant, and the bouncer guarding the private door Harry went through a few minutes ago moves forward to break up the fight. So I grab my chance, quickly side-step around them, and slip quietly through the door.
As the door closes behind me I find myself in a dim corridor lit only by an occasional spotlight mounted on the purple and black flock-papered wall. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all, I think, my earlier bravado ebbing away fast. But then I hear voices coming from a room at the end of the corridor. It’s Harry, and he’s talking to Ringo.
I creep down the corridor closer to the room and pause at the half-open doorway.
‘… and you think this makes it acceptable?’ I hear Harry say, as I press myself against the wall as close to the door as I can get without being seen. ‘When I provide you with the goods I expect them to be looked after, not stashed away in some damp old basement. This is top-of-the-range merchandise, Ringo.’
‘Harry, Harry,’ I hear Ringo say now in that gravelly voice of his. ‘What I do with the goods once you provide them is up to me. It’s no longer your concern then. You’ve done your bit in getting them to me, and a damn fine job you do too, if I may say. My clients have been very happy with what we’ve provided just lately, very happy indeed. I’ve had no complaints.’ Then Ringo laughs in a way that sends a cold shiver down my spine.
I cover my mouth with my hand to prevent a gasp escaping. So Ellie was right, Harry and Ringo are involved in drugs trafficking. Harry’s providing Ringo with the drugs, and Ringo’s selling them on to his clients.
I turn away from the door and hurry back down the corridor, but I forget I’m in ridiculously high heels, so I stumble and bang my hand into the wall as I try to keep myself balanced. I flick off my heels, pick them up and dash the final few metres to the door, but just as I get my hand on the handle I hear: ‘Jo-Jo, what are you doing in here?’ behind me.
Slowly I turn around.
‘Harry,’ I reply lightly. ‘I must have taken a wrong turning – I thought this was the door for the ladies’.’
‘No,’ Harry says, eyeing me curiously. ‘And I don’t believe the word Private looks anything like Ladies.’
‘Didn’t see that! Really must have had a few too many slammers earlier if I can’t read now, eh?’
Ringo, who has been standing behind Harry puffing on his cigar, blows a big plume of smoke into the corridor. ‘I do hope you weren’t snooping, Jo-Jo,’ he says as the security guard, fresh from breaking up his fight, comes through the door behind me. ‘Because there’s nothing I hate more than a journalist nosing into things she shouldn’t.’
‘What would I have to snoop about, Ringo?’ I ask, looking him directly in the eye. ‘If everything you do here is perfectly legal and above board?’
Ringo appears to lunge towards me, but Harry holds him back by putting his arm out.
‘Steady, Ringo, she’s only lost her way.’
Ringo, still growling, eyes me suspiciously.
‘If you’ll just let me pass, I’ll be on my way,’ I say, turning to the guard behind me. ‘I don’t want any trouble. It was a simple mistake.’
‘Ringo?’ he enquires of his boss, looking over my head.
‘Let her pass, Brian,’ Ringo says eventually. ‘But make sure she’s escorted from the premises immediately.’
‘Charming!’ I say, flashing my eyes at him.
‘Don’t push it, sweetheart; I don’t take kindly to finding people trespassing on private property. The only reason I’m being lenient with you is because you helped me out the other night with Rocky, and I owe you. But that debt is paid now,’ he adds. ‘So, I don’t want to see you in here ever again.’
‘Don’t worry, Ringo, I wouldn’t lower myself.’
‘I suggest you just leave, Jo-Jo,’ Harry interrupts quickly, before Ringo can speak. He walks down the corridor towards me. ‘Just let it be,’ he whispers, looking me in the eye. ‘Please, just go. It’s for your own good.’
I look at Harry, and I’m about to reply, but there’s something about the look in his eyes that tells me not to.
Don’t think you’ve got away with it though, Harry. You can wait until later.
I slip on my shoes while the security guard opens the door, then he steps back to let me pass and follows me through when I do. ‘This way, miss,’ he say
s, guiding me by the arm towards the main exit of the club.
My cheeks are burning with embarrassment as we make our way through the busy club.
‘Hey, stop!’ I hear as I’m about to be shown the door. ‘Is that you, Jo-Jo?’
Brian and I turn towards the voice exiting from the gents’ toilet. It’s Rocky from the other night, although I barely recognise him without his purplish hue of then.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks, looking at Brian’s hand on my arm. ‘Why are you manhandling this lady when she saved my life the other evening?’
‘Boss’s orders, Mr R,’ Brian mumbles.
‘I think not,’ Rocky says, removing my arm from Brian’s big paw and looping it through his own. ‘She’s my guest now, and any guest of mine is never unwelcome in Ringo’s club.’ He gives Brian a meaningful glare. ‘If Ringo has a problem with that, just you send him over to speak to me, OK?’
‘Yes, Mr Rockwell, whatever you say, Mr Rockwell,’ Brian mutters, scuttling away. Which, when you’re way over six foot, isn’t an easy thing to do.
‘Thanks for that,’ I say, as Rocky guides me towards one of the private booths across the other side of the room.
‘No problem. Anyone that saves my life is my permanent special guest. Sadie will be made up to see you again.’
‘Sadie?’ I enquire, wondering who I’m going to encounter now.
‘Yes, Sadie, my fiancée.’
‘Is she the woman in the green dress from the other night?’
‘Yup, that’s my Sadie. It’s her birthday, so we’ve a few friends in with us tonight, celebrating.’
‘I don’t want to intrude,’ I say, pretty sure Sadie won’t be too pleased to have me gatecrashing her birthday celebrations, but we’re already at the table, kept slightly private from the rest of the club by the addition of an ornate black net curtain circling the outside of the purple velvet seats.
Rocky pulls back the curtain and I’m surprised to see in amongst the guests enjoying champagne and cocktails not one but two familiar faces: Sadie, wearing a red satin dress so tight I can hardly believe she can breathe in it, let alone bend to sit down, and, sitting a bit further around the table from Sadie – Stu.
I’m not sure who looks more shocked to see me standing with my arm locked with Rocky’s, Sadie or Stu.
‘Doll face, look who I found!’ Rocky bellows, oblivious to their expressions. ‘It’s my guardian angel.’
‘Darling,’ Sadie gushes at me, recovering her momentarily lost composure. She fixes a tight smile to her lips. ‘How wonderful to see you again. Won’t you join us?’
‘Thank you, and happy birthday – I’m so sorry for gatecrashing your party,’ I smile nervously.
‘You’re not gatecrashing, darling, anyone that saves my Rocky’s life is welcome at any family gathering.’
It’s family! That makes it even worse. I cast a quick glance in Stu’s direction. What is he, her brother? Getting too weird now… but he just smiles back.
I’m found a seat, thrust a glass of champagne, and I sit down, glad that no one else seems bothered by my presence. They all just continue with their conversations and their drinking. Rocky and Sadie become the perfect hosts again, mingling with everyone.
‘How do you know Rocky?’ Stu asks, leaning across the table towards me. ‘I thought it was Ringo you were in with. Quite the dark horse, aren’t you?’
‘No, not at all. I don’t know him that well really. Unless you call saving his life, knowing him, I guess?’
Stu looks confused. ‘Is that what he meant about you being his guardian angel just now? Care to explain further?’ Stu slides his chair around the table so it’s closer to mine, but no one seems to care, and I begin to tell him all about the peanut incident.
‘Impressive,’ he says when I’ve finished. ‘How’d you know to do that?’
‘Saw it happen at a Christmas party. So,’ I ask, keen to move the subject away from my future knowledge. ‘How do you know Rocky?’
‘He’s involved with the band I roadie for.’
‘Is he, how?’
‘He finances them, basically, shoves money into them when they need a bit extra for tours and the like.’
‘Is he a big music fan then?’ I look at Rocky standing with his arm around another man, drinking whisky and laughing. Rocky looks many things but a fan of pop music isn’t one of them.
Stu laughs. ‘Not really. It’s Sadie – her brother is one of the band members, so Rocky does it for her.’
Now it makes sense.
‘And Sadie is my cousin, so that’s how I got the gig working with them originally. Been doing it for years, now. Got to know them all quite well, and it’s not a bad job, gets me out and about, seeing things I wouldn’t if I were stuck in an office all day. I’ve pretty much travelled the world.’
‘There you are!’ Ellie comes tottering over to us on her bright yellow high heels. ‘I wondered where you’d got to. You left me all alone at the bar.’
‘I bet you weren’t alone long, though?’ Stu says to her, casting an admiring eye over her short black dress.
‘Hello, and who might you be?’ Ellie asks, putting her hand out.
‘Your lucky day,’ Stu says, standing up to take her hand.
I roll my eyes. ‘Stuart, meet Ellie, my friend and work colleague,’ I cast my hand in Ellie’s direction, ‘Ellie, meet Stuart. We met earlier today in George’s shop.’
‘You like music then, Stuart?’ Ellie asks.
‘Yeah, I’m embarrassed to say I have a sad addiction to obscure seventies punk music, which George feeds nicely for me.’
‘That’s not so bad,’ Ellie says, smiling at him. ‘Just between the two of us I like a bit of the Bay City Rollers when I’m all alone of an evening. Now that’s embarrassing!’
‘Yes, it is,’ Stu says seriously, and then he grins. ‘Are you here all alone tonight?’
‘Yes,’ Ellie says without hesitation, her eyes not wavering from Stu’s.
I clear my throat.
‘Well, I came with Jo-Jo but she doesn’t really count.’
‘Thanks a bunch!’
‘You know what I mean, Jo!’ She winks at me. Needs must! she mouths so Stu can’t see.
I look at the pair of them, gazing at each other above me while I perch on the seat below.
‘Why don’t you two just go and have some fun together?’ I suggest. ‘I’ll be fine here with Rocky and his pals.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ellie asks, barely looking at me.
‘Yes, just go,’ I say, waving my hand dismissively at them. ‘I’ll catch you later. By the way, I’ve got some info for us,’ I say as Ellie and Stu wander off still gazing at each other, but I don’t think Ellie even hears me.
I pick up my champagne from the table and take a long consolatory gulp.
So, it looks like I’m all on my own again.
But isn’t that how I’m supposed to prefer it?
As I sip my champagne I ponder how, even in the middle of a noisy club like this, you can feel so alone. How when sitting at a table of people, all chattering away and enjoying themselves, you can still manage to feel lonely.
But that’s just how I feel now that Stu has gone off with Ellie and I don’t really know anyone. It’s odd, I should have felt like this before in all the unfamiliar situations I’ve found myself in, but I haven’t; I’ve always felt fine before, able to cope, so why has it suddenly hit me now in the middle of all this noise and merriment, how utterly alone I actually feel in all this?
‘What are you still doing here?’ someone hisses in my ear.
I turn around to find Harry bending over my shoulder.
‘If Ringo catches you still in his club you’ll be for more than the high jump.’
‘I’m having a drink with Rocky – he invited me to stay as his guest,’ I reply haughtily, turning away from him and facing forward again.
‘Did he now?’ Harry says, sounding surprised. ‘And how might you know
Rocky?’
Not this one again.
‘It’s complicated,’ I reply, to make it easier.
‘I bet it is if Rocky is anything to do with it. I wish you luck if you’re involved in any of his shady dealings.’
I swivel around in my chair. ‘You’re a fine one to talk!’
‘What do you mean?’ Harry asks. His face is right next to mine as I stare indignantly into his deep blue eyes.
Damn! I didn’t mean to say anything until I spoke to Ellie first. But now I have I’m not backing down.
‘I mean about you and Ringo.’
‘What about me and Ringo?’ Harry asks, looking right back into my eyes without blinking. ‘What do you know? Or should I say what do you think you know!’
‘I know enough.’
‘Enlighten me?’ Harry’s eyes flicker with danger now.
‘Here? You want me to say it here in front of everyone?’
‘Let’s go elsewhere then,’ Harry suggests quietly.
‘I’m not going somewhere with you! I hardly know you and after earlier in the corridor, why would I?’
It was true; I didn’t really know this version of Harry. I might think I did because of all the other times I’d met him, but it might be different this time: he really could be dangerous.
Harry sighs. ‘Are you suggesting that I might harm you in some way?’
I look at Harry in his smart black suit and blue shirt as he squats down next to my chair now. No, I have to admit he doesn’t look very dangerous. But an expensive designer suit doesn’t mean anything. Then I glance into his eyes again. But a pair of kind eyes does mean something. And Harry has some of the kindest, loveliest eyes I’ve ever seen.
‘No,’ I say quietly. ‘But you’re a virtual stranger to me. I’m not going just anywhere with a stranger.’
Harry’s face softens. ‘There’s a bar down the road from here. Well, it’s more of a pub really, but you have to call them bars these days. We’ll go there and you can explain to me just why you think I might be anything like Ringo, Rocky and anyone else with the initial R you can think of.’