by Isabella May
Then one August evening after the bombardment of the book club brigade, when River suggested she go back to the penthouse early, for an evening of movies and takeaway because he was too exhausted for anything else, Georgina knew it was time to up the tempo. One: because something was clearly on his mind, and two: because if she procrastinated any longer, she’d start going down Lover’s Lane, a destination she was not prepared to travel to, despite the fact he’d recently started referring to their bedroom antics as ‘making love’, despite the fact every time she heard those words fly out of his mouth, it made her belly all warm and gooey inside.
“Hey Zed,” she’d greeted Zara, who was sorting out stale baguettes to drop off at one of the homeless charities nearby.
“Georgina, how’s it going? You look cream crackered, that’s gotta be a good thing, right? You’re certainly getting more customers than you were when we first met not so many moons ago!”
“Am I ever, and I shouldn’t complain, but my feet are ever-so-slightly killing me. I only wish River would put on a PJ and slippers themed night.”
“Well, why don’t you run it past him? He seems open to the weird and the whacky… talking of which, Heather was in here earlier buying me out of root ginger biscuits for the second time in a fortnight.”
“Oh don’t, the woman’s obsessed with that spice.”
“But not as obsessed it seems as she is with your dad.” Zara flashed Georgina a toothy grin. “A baker is like a taxi driver… or even a receptionist, you know. Oh yes, we hear all the little and not so little secrets of our customers, they all come voluntarily spilling out when there’s no-one in earshot. There’s something about the sight of cake,” she ran her hands along the bakery counter, “the smell of fresh bread besides, that makes grown men and women forget themselves, think of us as their Agony Aunts,” she laughed.
“Well you’ve got to spill the pinto beans now,” said Georgina, wishing she hadn’t made mention of those hideous ‘legumes’ Zara took it upon herself to unnecessarily stuff in her chocolate cakes. “Come on, talk about a carrot cake dangle.”
“All right, all right, all I know is she is ‘simply too busy to bake the weekly root ginger grounders’.” They both sniggered.
“That makes sense. Dad is claiming to be taking on more work to pay for this Prague Christmas market trip thingy organised by the travel group – I invented that idea.” She smiled at her own intelligence. “But now you’re telling me this, I’m half wondering if he’s doing something else with those extra hours he claims to be working instead.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we are talking about another type of spice, going on the look of lurve in her eyes, at any rate.”
“Oh great, I’m beginning to think I preferred Dad when he’d lost his swagger.”
“Well, I think it’s great, not only is the bar making money and introducing the town to a taste of the exotic, but it’s spreading the love bug too, what could be better? I only wish some of it would rub off on me. There doesn’t seem to be a half-decent man left in this town… with the exception of River, of course.”
“While we’re on the subject of bean spilling,” Georgina briskly redirected the conversation drumming her beautifully French polished nails on the counter to create something of a build-up effect, “I have a little secret of my own.” She quit the tapping and pulled a paper from her wallet, wishing she’d secured Zara’s word before she displayed the evidence. “But I need you to take an oath.”
“Can I think about it for five minutes?”
“Um, okay then… but I was kind of hoping we were friends, as well as me being your star customer… not to mention almost your personal travel agent.” Zara cracked up at this point, Georgina grinned too, her narcissistic self in complete and utter egotistical adoration of her wit and timing.
“Oh, what a story that was about those two from round the corner. Why did I have to leave the bar so early that night? Do you know, I might well book my next holiday the old fashioned way rather than through my regular airbnb, just to sit in front of them in their shop and drop several hundred hints that the rumours about their behaviour have done the Glasto rounds… Oh dear, what a place we live in, hey? Sorry, Georgina, that was rude of me to interrupt, you were saying?”
“Nothing much really, just that I was assuming I wouldn’t even need to ask you to volunteer to be sworn to secrecy.”
“Of course you don’t, kiddo. I was only messing with you, spill away.”
***
So that was that. Zara was officially on board. Not only a fully-fledged member of Team Georgina, but keeper of a very beneficial secret herself; a secret way sweeter than any of her organic stevia and chia seed stuffed pastries put together.
Georgina simply couldn’t hide her grin as she exited the bakery, made her way back to The Guinevere for her insipid movie night with River, wondering what takeaway decision they’d debate tonight. He always wanted a Chinese or a Thai, something stinky, garlicky and spicy to pong out the room, while she’d opt for a sweeter smelling pizza or chips. Travel to far-flung places and jumping on the Waitrose-foodie-bandwagon-express had never been her thing, no man on Earth was going to change that now. Not even River.
She paused to check her purse was zipped shut, saw that the paper translation was poking out enticingly, buried it deeper into her bag and pushed open the door to walk in on quite the scene.
“In slightly the wrong position to play whizzing down the banister now, boy,” said a monstrous looking figure as he rose from the throne next to the fireplace, slapped his broadsheet down on the table, and followed his statement up with a beastly chuckle. “We’re going to stay here until we sort this out.”
“Excuse me, love,” he muttered under his breath.
Oh, she did indeed love that commandeering effect that her presence cast on males like him: priceless.
She was quick enough to do the maths. This was some ‘acquaintance’ of River’s and now was not the time to pledge her allegiance to her beau. So she blanked him completely, acknowledging instead the stranger who un-capped his frizz of a hair-do, as if she were The Queen, walking on imaginary red carpet, and marched right past him and on up the stairs, leaving the fragments of their conversation to dissipate in a haze behind her, echoes of “Has he paid you or something?” rebounding in the reception’s hallway.
It was at this point that she realised she was not alone on the stairs. Someone else, it seemed, had been listening in on the debauchery below. A snappy burst of tumbling strawberry blonde curls, an expensive china doll face, one of those haughty-taughty posh shawls draped around her size zero frame, and then she was gone, the only clue of her presence a door closing gently overhead. Georgina wondered if she was half asleep. The day had been long after all, the scheming with Zara had clearly over-stimulated her senses. Maybe a film was just the tonic to calm her livewires? The words “press”, “paps” and “contract” pinged through the air as she hunted in her bag for her key, shutting the door on the madness. River would free himself soon enough, congratulate her for playing dumb, not giving their relationship status away.
Unless of course, the very reason Mr Hideous down below had been put on her path was to mesh with her plan? And now those cogs in her brain really started turning.
Chapter Sixteen
RIVER
“Rules don’t apply to me, I’ve told you before. Now just move on, switch some band members around, shuffle things up, recruit a couple of eager new faces, and be done with it,” said River to Lennie, swivelling promptly thereafter to face the hotel’s receptionist, “and as for you… how could you, you two-faced little—?”
“I’m so sorry,” she blurted, her heavy sniffs turning immediately to loud guttural sobs as she grabbed her bag and ran out of the building.
He turned back to Lennie: “Wow, you really are a conniving son of a—”
“Now that’s no way to talk about your…” but Lennie stopped himself going further. “And ha
rk at you thinking you’re above the ts and cs of a legally binding document… I don’t think so.”
“Legally binding nothing, Lennie! For the gazillionth time, you forgot to renew it. So bring it on. All you’ll do is stress yourself out and keel over with a heart attack, take my advice, find a replacement, it’ll be easier on the arteries that way.”
“Ha!” Lennie nodded, rocking his head back and forth like one of those moving toy dogs people stick on the parcel shelf of their cars. “You’re hilarious, you. Slight problem there though, River. Not only did you go AWOL, but you encouraged Alice to go AWOL too.”
“That had nothing to do with me.” River let his eyes bore into Lennie’s, willing him to know it was the truth.
“Oh come on, you must think I was born yesterday, thick as thieves you two.”
“Really it didn’t, I had no idea until she turned—”
Damn him. Lennie always had that irksome way about him that made River say more than he’d intended to.
“Aha, so you don’t deny you know of her whereabouts.”
“I never said that.”
“I rather think you’ll find you just did.”
“Look, you’ve done enough damage already by bribing the receptionist, now kindly go.”
“Are you kidding? I won’t kindly anything, I haven’t even got started. Gonna get my money’s worth now I’m staying here at The Guinevere… indefinitely.” He disappeared behind his former throne to wheel out a giant leopard print suitcase.
“Fine, then I’m moving out.”
“River, think about it,” Lennie’s voice softened, but River was no fool to this customary tactic. “I’m prepared to let you go… in return for Alice. Hand her over, it’s obvious she’s here… or at your mother’s… I’ve already spoken with the lovely Tamara, such an accommodating filly she is, shame about the clock face.” He drew a circle around his own face with one of his pork chipolatas and let out another of his monstrous laughs. “You wouldn’t want me pestering Heather again now, would you… talking of ‘accommodating fillies’.” He whistled between the gaps of cemented together teeth.
“Don’t even think about it.” Rage consumed River and his mouth contorted at the very implication.
“Bit late for that,” Lennie chuckled.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“For all your musical gifts you never were the sharpest note.” Lennie shook his head pitifully. “Forget it. I’m messing with you, too long a story anyway. Now then: back to business. What’s it to be, your good self or Alice?”
“Um, that would be neither of us; I think I’ve made that pretty clear.” River felt the anger burning in his throat now, wishing it would convert to fire so he could douse the putrid specimen stood in front of him for once and for all.
“Fair dos, son, fair dos. I’ve tried to play nicely, really I have.” Lennie’s hand twitched at the handle of his case, firm grip and release, firm grip and release, as if he were a chess piece trying to work out his next move.
“So what are you going to do now?” River challenged him with an arch of his eyebrows.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“No,” River smirked and shook his head at the supposed riddle. “No, no, no. I’ll tell you what you’re going to do now: you’re going to accept our decisions as final.” He put his hands on his hips as if to back up his words with some authority, “You’re going to realise that this happens to every manager in the music industry at some point, even the likes of Simon Sodding Cowell. And you are going to go back, talk to the members of Avalonia who still want to keep the band alive and kicking, ask them what they want to do, organise some auditions and recruit two new members. It couldn’t be simpler. Now, have a happy rest of your life and excuse me while I get on with mine.”
“Nice try, River.” Lennie flipped open the lid of his mobile, pressed some buttons, and stared menacingly at him, breathing deeply as he waited. “Yeah, taxi please… central London.”
“Good. Now stay there.” River headed up the stairs, shaking his head again in disbelief, ready to relay the whole episode to Georgina, not before slipping a note under the door to Alice. Fortunately, he had the order book he’d pilfered from Georgina for the umpteenth time, lodged into his back pocket; he took it out, and the biro attached to it:
“Stay in your room until further notice. Tonight will be our last night here at The Guinevere! I’ll sort out new accommodation for both of us tomorrow… not Mum’s and the shitty pink tie-dye, don’t worry. Oh, and we’ll be together, promise. Riv xx.”
He paced the corridor, unsure whether to go back downstairs and check up on Lennie’s current status, or play bouncer to Alice’s room. Just in case. The heavy creak of the door and trundling of wheels onto the steps outside, followed by a slam, marking the end of a chapter – as far as he was concerned anyway – told him all he needed to know. Alice would be fine now; the scumbag had taken the hint. Time to rekindle whatever it was that he had left with Georgina.
“I just cannot believe the audacity of that loser,” he said as he opened the door to his room. “Thanks for not letting on that we’re sort of an item.”
But there was no reply. Funny, unless his mind was completely messing with him, he swore he’d seen her walk into reception and up the stairs.
“Georgina? George?” He went to the bathroom, even swiping at the shower curtain, in case she should be there in a Psycho-inspired bloodbath; please god no.
Chapter Seventeen
ALICE
River banged frantically on the door. “Have you seen her? She’s not even answering her phone?”
“Who are you looking for?” Alice said to the rather serious looking fire escape map, mentally erasing the immediate past.
Great, just when she was beginning to think his affection was wearing thin. Alice opened the door with a feigned look of interest, her heart sinking lower as she took in the genuine concern on River’s face, the kind of concern only displayed when emotions are at stake.
“It’s Georgina, she’s missing.”
“Yeah, I gathered already. But it’s a bit difficult for me to help when I don’t even know what she looks like, you haven’t introduced us yet, Riv, remember?”
“I know, I know. But no time for that now, Lennie knows we’re here by the way.”
“I did get the note.” She fanned it in front of him since she was still holding it in her right hand. “You’re flustered, come in, calm down, you’re not going to find anyone in this state.”
“No, it’s not us I’m worried about anymore,” his words were sparking up in all directions, offshoots from a Catherine Wheel at an amateur firework show, “although we do need to get out of here sharpish. I could have sworn Georgina walked past me when I was in reception, I know I’m not imagining it. Then again, I was slightly stunned at him tracking us down like that, not to mention the freakin’ receptionist tipping him off, utter nerve of that woman… and god only knows who else besides.”
“I wouldn’t panic. From everything you’ve told me about Georgina already, she sounds as street wise as they come. Are you positive that you saw her walk in though? Couldn’t it have been another female guest?”
Alice couldn’t believe she was practically lying to him. She’d heard those trademark footsteps, after all. Nobody else lived on the top floor. As for the disloyal woman behind the front desk, she was beginning to realise just how these things happened when someone was down on their luck, her own funds like dregs at the bottom of a petrol tank. What choice had she ever had? Lennie had certainly charmed Alice into all sorts of scenarios her logical mind wouldn’t usually have said yes to.
“I’m useless at thinking straight in situations like this, what should we do?”
“Well, I think for one thing, let’s leave it until the end of the day before sending out a search party. How long has it been? She’s probably just gone home, nothing more sinister than that.”
“Hal
f an hour, forty minutes, I don’t know.” River scratched at his half-formed beard and paced the hallway. “I definitely can’t call her there. Blake won’t have started work yet. Something tells me she won’t be at home anyway. There’s something darker going on, I can sense it.”
“Lennie’s probably just trying to scare you, us, but beneath that façade he’s just a…” Alice realised she couldn’t finish her sentence, since she had zero belief in the lexicon which was randomly flying out of her mouth to try to make him, them, feel better. “Why don’t you come inside and wait here? Or we could scour the streets together?”
“Not safe.” River shook his head as if that were the most appalling idea anyone could ever come up with and she immediately wished she could retract it. “Lennie’s making out he’s heading back to London, quick fake call on his mobile downstairs for a taxi… I’m not stupid… five minutes earlier he claimed to be staying here at the hotel indefinitely. He’s out there, still at large, throwing all sorts of possibilities around to try and confuse me.”
“I’m at a loss as to what else to suggest.” Alice shrugged and held her hand out to pull him inside. “Vigilante at the window?”
“Pack your things,” River exclaimed in a bizarre Eureka-esque moment. “I can’t promise it’ll be immediate, I’ll have to talk her round, but sometime next week I’ll have cracked her for sure: we’re moving into Aunt Sheba’s.”