by Isabella May
Two men were engulfed in silence. One sitting, one standing, until River knew it was his turn to offer up some advice.
“Want me to let you into a little secret?” He coughed in a bid to calm himself down again, like that might also help him locate his voice.
“Well yeah, okay,” said Lee, still looking as glum as could be. “Shoot for the stars but I doubt it’ll make any difference.”
“Give or take a few hundred thousand, you and I have a rather similar looking net worth.”
“Geez Louise. You’re joking, right?”
“No, I am not.” River moved his head from side to side to further reassure.
“Well then what did you squander it on? And more to the point, why are you still driving around in that hideous excuse for a motor?”
“I’ve been a bit boring, true; a tad sensible. But I’m proof that you can come into money – and mine also came in pretty thick and fast…” He turned, suddenly regaining his composure to gather a selection of bottles, since a stiff drink could not come soon enough for the both of them. “Put it this way,” he continued, “I never really had chance to spend it, that’s how quickly it was piling up. What I mean to say is you can be a multimillionaire without it running your life; you can do it in such a way as to enhance what you have. It’s all about staying grounded. That’s it. Find the thing you’re passionate about, and follow it. Refuse to get entrapped by life’s falsities.”
“Can I ask you something?” River plonked the bottles down and carried on with his interrogation anyway. “Would you still have said yes if Jonie had popped the question after your balls had been picked?”
“Such a way with words, Riv… such a way with words.”
“Well, are you going to answer my question?”
“Yes. Not a doubt about it.”
“There then. That tells you all you need to know… but also that you owe me a big fat drink as a thank you for having the inspiration to walk to Tequila that day.”
“I’m still not convinced about that story, you know.”
“You will be soon. Things are only warming up.”
***
River faltered, paper in hand; one last look at Alice’s hastily penned words before he decided if this gave him permission to investigate.
“…weekend break in the city… maybe longer, really not sure. Not sure about anything anymore to tell you the truth. Something’s come up, got to get my head together. Don’t want to hold you back. Will love you forever for all you have done for me. Alice xx”
Autopilot – and the Black Russian he’d shared with Lee half an hour earlier – took over his logical mind. The next thing he knew, he was calling the number at the top of the taxi company’s headed paper receipt, and then waiting, nervously, for somebody to pick up the receiver.
“I’ve been expecting this… to be honest, like.” The woman on the other end of the call let out a deep breath, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, appeared to be simultaneously munching on a packet of crisps. “I’ll call into the bar, gimme five.” And with that she’d hung up on him before he’d even had chance to protest.
“I didn’t mean right now,” River said to the four walls.
He walked over to the door, twisted the sign to ‘closed’, and waited at the nearest table so the driver wouldn’t escape his notice when she did arrive, fingers drumming in anticipation. How had he been so bloody jejune as to take Alice’s erratic words at face value? He stared at them again, suddenly realising they were nothing but a lie laced with anger, fear and upset. There was clearly more to all of this than met the eye and had he only been more tuned in from the start, she’d still be here now, helping him prep for the evening, spoon feeding him with jokes, coming out with long forgotten snippets about the past, further cementing their bond.
No way was she in London. Yet if she’d got a taxi all the way to either one of the two closest cities to Glastonbury, who did she know in Bristol, or Bath?
An excitable shadow blocked the stream of daylight which would usually illuminate the bar through the sheer glass door at this time of day. Intuition told him it wouldn’t be long before this woman spilled some seriously helpful beans, and so he let her in with a welcome smile, and the offer of a strong drink.
***
“Well this is like one of them deja-vus,” said the woman matter-of-factly, adding a quite non-essential snort. She’d thanked River for his cocktail offer, opted for a non-alcoholic Mexican Limeade and then insisted upon taking him to Bath Spa train station immediately, not before outstretching her hand for a business deal kind of a shake. “I’m Hayley by the way, never did introduce myself to your… to Alice.”
“Are you sure about this?” he’d asked. “It’s more than hospitable, and I’m more than happy to drive – the both of us – if you think you can help sniff out some clues.”
“And miss the opportunity to give a lift to the original frontman of Avalonia? Not a snowflake’s chance in hell.”
Somehow he didn’t dare challenge her.
“I’ll have to get your autograph before the day’s out, mind.”
Hayley snapped him back to the present and the fact that they were approaching the nearest car park to the station.
“I’ll have to park her up here, else there’ll be every man and his dog trying to get me to ferry them about in Jane Austen Ville if I chance it for a local taxi rank.”
The bust of Cassandra tilted her head back and laughed at the way she’d weaseled her way into his life for the third time that day, until he blinked her ferociously away.
“Good idea.” River nodded as if he knew all about the logistics of cab parking. “And thank you, Hayley, once again. This is over and above the call of duty.”
“You’re most welcome, Sir. No… sit… I insist… it’s my prerogative to open your door for you.”
River had gathered by now that it was easiest at all times to agree with this lady.
“I’m not sure what I think I’m after here,” he said, as they crossed the road moments later and entered the main building. “But I guess there could be a notice board, or maybe we could ask the station master if there’s some way they can give us access to camera footage?”
“Hardly likely, total invasion of privacy.” Hayley frowned at the suggestion and River berated himself immediately for his ridiculous and very desperate clutch at straws.
“What does she mean to you: Alice?”
“Hey? Where did that come from?”
“Well, I get the feeling you’re both dodging each other politely, when what you’re really wanting is to just get it on. You might have spared yourself all of this bother if you hadn’t insisted on playing silly games. What is it with men and freakin’ dating games? Don’t even get me started on my last boyfriend’s constant messing me about like we were on a Snakes and Ladders board.”
“All right, all right calm down!” River was stunned at Hayley’s impetuous words; to an outsider she must have looked like his bolshy big sister. “You sure you don’t want to take a seat and let me see if I can find you a shrink while we’re here?”
“I’m right though, aren’t I?” she ignored him.
“In a way… yes… perhaps,” he conceded.
“See, I’ve seen enough of this over the years, in and out of the cab, as well as my own private life, should have a degree in Psychology, me.”
That threw River back once again to the degree he himself had walked out on. Perhaps if he had followed it through things wouldn’t be the catastrophe they were revealing themselves to be before his very eyes – oh, and he might have some kind of a light bulb moment as to where Alice would take herself next.
In the end it was Hayley who provided that, River having unsuccessfully scoured the station’s entrance, while she strolled the platform, authoritatively hunting for clues.
“Now she did go on about her love of horses briefly… for the short amount of time I could get any small talk out of her on the journey, at any rate.”
>
“And?”
Hayley breathed in through her nose as would a matriarchal dragon, rankled by its slow-to-catch-on young. Just as she pointed at a notice board at the doorway leading on to platform one; the doorway River had failed to as much as notice, Mercedes’ voice whispered lightly in his ear: “Yes.”
River walked, half-possessed by the murmur which had already vanished, until he reached the notice board. And there it was, clear as day.
“Strawberry pickers wanted; additional expertise with horses preferable. Live-in summer job, small wage, great benefits.”
All of which sounded like the epitome of cons, a magnet for anybody down on their luck, and a quaint little disguise for modern day slavery, all rolled into one. But still, he was in no doubt that this was the detour Alice had taken. He ripped the notice down, at which point a steely-eyed station official began to march forward, mouth open to say something equally stern, until Hayley made herself Piggy in the Middle, hands on hips, glare unbending, putting paid to any attempt of reprimand. The worker retreated Michael Jackson style in an unusual moonwalk, best left to drunken uncles in white patent loafers on wedding dance floors. And Hayley took River under the bingo wing of her arm, a quick peek at the address on the notice, as they paced back to the taxi.
***
They didn’t have to look far once they’d sped past the rural clotted cream fudge factory on the city’s outskirts, and on into the village beyond it. Alice was sitting atop a wobbly stone wall, sandwich in hand, chatting to a girl, both of them presumably taking an afternoon tea break.
“Well that’s something, they can’t be quite as harsh as these slave drivers you read about in the papers if they’re keeping them fed and watered. But still, your Alice wants to put several stone on, let alone pounds. She’s got to weigh a quarter of me,” said Hayley, as she rustled in the sweet bag nestled dangerously close to her handbrake and popped a handful of Jelly Babies into her mouth.
“Al, what’s happened? Please come back,” River’s words jumped out of the taxi before him, and he walked after them, carefully towards the woman he loved, fearful that if he came on too strong, she might scurry off like a field mouse.
Alice looked plain startled. She muttered something that sounded decidedly French to the younger girl, evidently a worker in her checked shirt and dirty jeans, and then swung her own body over the back of the border and into the strawberry field.
“You! I trusted you… all your sworn secrecy with your chitchat about the stars and their confidentiality. What a crock of shit that was!”
Alice pressed her palms down on the wall now, sandwich discarded to a cranny of its stonework; she was a gymnast about to vault over the horse, an angry gymnast at that. Alice’s friend headed back to the farmhouse alone, looking back over her shoulder uncertainly.
Don’t you dare have any grand plans to call any rifle-toting farmers down! With any luck, River would get Alice to come to her senses in minutes, even if that came to some serious financial bargaining with the landowner.
“You gave yourself away, me number was on the taxi receipt, sweetheart. What man wasn’t going to call it to try and find you?”
Hayley popped her head out the window to add her pearls of wisdom. Magically, this seemed to soften things.
“I actually wished you’d come sooner… it sucks here, Riv.”
Alice put her head in her strawberry-stained hands, slunk down against the jagged wall and began to cry. Huge fat tears. River was all a dither.
“Are you happy to wait here a bit?” he shouted back to Hayley.
“All in a day’s work, I’ve got my Jelly Babies… might have to call into that fudge factory’s shop on the way home, mind… that’ll keep me energised ‘til supper.”
He leapt over the wall. “Christ, she’s a case, that one… bet you enjoyed the journey to the station.”
They both laughed then and Alice spurted out the entire backstory. From start to finish, not a middle bit of Georgina’s declaration left out.
“Why that twisted little... just you wait until I see her.”
“River, no: you’re not like that, you’ve never been like that, and you’re not going to start being like that now.”
He looked to Alice, only to see it wasn’t her who had uttered those words.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
GEORGINA
“George: outside, this instant.”
Holy moly! What now?
Just when everything was nice and cushy; okay, so even though she had him all to herself, romance had unofficially died, and she was all out of ideas as to how she could reignite that again. The short skirts and occasional flash of her backside when she bent over – which was with an embarrassing frequency, her desperation for some flirting forcing her to throw napkins, straws and spoons in all directions – making no odds at all to the frustrating secret loyalty of River’s eyes.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Alice claims you told her that you’re pregnant, and that’s what that whole episode upstairs was about the other weekend.”
That rotten cow! How dare she resume contact?
Georgina smiled sweetly and quickly, her brain sharp enough to realise he wouldn’t believe a lie, not like this, so she’d change the story slightly.
“I had,” she paused to inhale deeply, “a miscarriage, actually, River… if you must know. Not that my private life is any concern of yours nowadays. Happy now?” She lowered her head for effect.
Oh, the magic of her zippy calculating mind to have this wrapped up in seconds as per usual.
“So you’re suggesting that Alice has a hearing problem?”
He was unbelievable. Georgina was stunned that this hadn’t silenced him, let alone not had his conscience firing off questions as to his potential involvement.
“I’m suggesting,” she brought her head up now, eyes flitting between his and her stomach which she covered protectively, “that you take a very large hint and ask me no further questions. You’ve no idea what I’ve been going through, no idea at all.”
“I don’t know what to think any more, really I don’t.” He bit his lip, shook his head and then stopped to sweep a hand through his hair. “If it wasn’t for your dad and my mum, I’d have asked you to kindly move on already. You’re not a team player, George. I took you on in good faith… albeit under regrettably sordid circumstances… circumstances which suited the both of us at the time. But things are different now. We’ve had our fun, we’re colleagues and the bar is growing. Al’s back on board for as long as it takes to find her a decent job elsewhere. You’re just going to have to accept that and frankly muck in or check out.”
“Well that’s just charming! Do you talk to all your staff like that when they’ve lost a baby, your baby… as if I needed to make it any clearer, to spell all the letters out for—”
“I’ve heard enough, Georgina!”
River cut in, hand in the air now as if to halt any remaining flurry of words.
“If that’s the truth then I’m sorry, for my part in it, really I am. But firstly, you assured me you were taking the pill… and you… well, you’re just something else altogether, aren’t you? I mean never mind the boy who cried wolf…” he paused to take a breath, to gather his next flurry of words. “In any case, it’s over now, and this dialogue totally redundant. A child, between the two of us, just no… as insensitive as this is going to sound, I’m going to say it: what life would it have had?”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, had she truly been pregnant, oh, how those words would have stung. But more than anything, she couldn’t believe that an annoying little waif had more front than she herself did, straying just a little while to fool her, but now here she was back again from Cali-flippin-fornia, presumably, for Round Two. Well, you know what, ‘Al’ – and since when had he started calling her Al? – bring it on. And bring it on with bells on, the jinglier the better.
And as for that love rat who had made her fall in love wit
h him, well, he was taking absolute liberties now in every sense of the word. Whereas most when they were in trouble would cringe deeply at the mention of their full name, Georgina felt her buttons pushed when anybody dared to shorten it; it was like they’d cut off her significance or something, diminished her universal existence with the chop of a knife through a particular arrangement of the alphabet. River Jackson had not only dared to do it.
But he’d dared to do it twice.
All of which seemed to be the natural conclusion to the end of their affair, and goddammit, she was the one who terminated the contracts in that department; which was precisely why Operation Payback would officially start that very night.
Chapter Thirty
ALICE
You can be sure there’s something quite genuine about a man whose weekend priority is opening a cat sanctuary. A few days after Hayley and River had rescued Alice from the hell that was fruit picking with the offer of a very occasional horse riding session at a discounted rate; a discounted rate which happened to be give or take a day’s wages, she found herself beaming in a rather sedated crowd as Glastonbury’s Hero cut the white satin ribbon to officially open Cassandra’s Cat Sanctuary.
Then the throng cheered, ramping the festivities up several notches, Alice included.
And he was a hero. What other way was there to describe River? Once again, he had come to her rescue, stopping at nothing, even paying Hayley quadruple the fare to rope her into rescuing Jocelyne, the French student too, transporting her back to the safety of Dover where she boarded the last ferry of the day over to Calais as a foot passenger, vowing to return to the parents who were worried sick about her when she’d fled her village home as a teenage Goth and made off for Paris.
“You wanna keep hold of that one.” Hayley nudged her out of her daydream, quite from nowhere, almost knocking her down like a skittle. But Alice had warmed to her now, how could she not?