by C. Gockel
He gazed up at her with a doleful expression and she laughed. He finally smiled in return and stretched up to hug her. Skye watched the proceedings with a mixture of fondness and envy.
‘How about you?’ her mother asked, peering round to look at her. ‘Any luck on the job front?’
Skye bit her lip and shook her head. Her mother shot her a commiserative glance.
‘Something will turn up eventually.’
If only she had her mum’s optimism. The guilt she felt at still living at home and sponging off her parents was becoming overwhelming. Skye tried not to think about the letter from the bank and instead looked down at the catalogue, flipping it over to scan the back. Then she frowned. Something was stuck to the underside. Peeling it off, Skye realised it was a postcard with the familiar, statuesque Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament on the front. Turning it over, she read the words.
Hey you!
How’s life in Bonnie Scotland? Still looking for a job? I’m working at a nightclub that’s always looking for new staff. Money’s pretty good even if the hours are a bit crap. I can put in a good word for you if you want something to tide you over for a few months. Let me know!!!!
Emma xoxo
There was a phone number scrawled at the bottom. Skye stared down at it for a moment.
‘You’re right,’ she said slowly, ‘maybe something has turned up.’ She passed the postcard over to her mother, who looked down at it, her brow furrowing.
‘A nightclub? Skye, you’ve got a Master’s degree.’
‘In English freaking Literature, Mum. Much good it’s doing me out in the real world.’
‘Yes, but…’
Skye shot her mother a look. ‘I can’t stay here forever.’
‘You know this is your home. You can live here for as long as you want.’
Her father eyed her thoughtfully. ‘I think what your mum is trying to say is that perhaps a nightclub isn’t really the most suitable place for you to get a job.’
Skye bristled. ‘Why not?’
‘Well, nightclubs are generally loud, boisterous places with loud and boisterous people. And you’re…’
‘Quiet? Studious? Boring?’
Her mum frowned. ‘Skye, that’s not what he’s saying.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Skye said quietly. ‘And he’s right. But beggars can’t be choosers and maybe it’s time I stopped being so quiet and mousy, and started standing up on my own two feet for a change.’
‘Skye…’
‘Surely even just being in London will make finding a real job easier. This will simply tide me over, as Emma says.’
‘Love, it’s not that we disapprove of you working in a nightclub. Of course we don’t. You should do whatever you want to. It’s just that Emma’s not you. She’s more outgoing.’
‘Which means she’ll be able to introduce me to lots of people. You never know what might happen or who I might meet.’
‘If you want to do this…’
Skye stared down at the postcard. A hot, zippy kick of excitement shot through her stomach. ‘Actually, yes, I do.’
Chapter Three
Coop had chosen to ignore the summons. If she decided she wanted to send him out on another mission to shoot some poor couple in the heart with bolts of love, then she could damned well send him an email about it like she normally did. He had better things to do with his time, and right now they involved lying under a parasol in the sun and hoping his bloody hangover would go away.
It was ridiculous, really. What was the point in being a god if you still had to deal with the after-effects of alcohol? As soon as he felt better, he was going to seek out Bacchus and demand some answers. If the God of Wine and Intoxication couldn’t prevent hangovers then Zeus should give the bloody job to someone else. In fact, he thought, stretching out lazily like a cat, he would be the perfect choice. Bacchus could spend a couple of millennia forcing unsuspecting people to fall in love while he travelled the world ensuring his merchandise was of the highest – and, indeed, non-hangover inducing – quality. It would be a dirty job, and no doubt involve a vast amount of sampling and tasting, but he reckoned he could do it. Coop decided then and there he would bring it up the next time he was at Olympus. Not that he was planning to show his face there again any time soon. He had far better things to be doing with his time.
‘You know you shouldn’t be here, right?’ stated a voice from somewhere above his head.
Coop didn’t bother to open his eyes. ‘I can’t think why not. The sun is shining, I’ve been out and done all the jobs I was supposed to do, and my head feels like it’s had Sisyphus’s stone thrown at it several times by an angry Cyclops. Until I start feeling better, this is where I am going to remain.’
‘You’ve been summoned.’
‘I know.’
‘Coop, she’s already pissed off enough as it is. If you don’t turn up, the whole of Olympus is going to end up hearing about it.’
‘Herm, you need to chill out a bit. Take some time off, relax, soak up some rays.’ Coop sat up and eyed his old friend. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘No.’
‘Let me get you a drink. Aria!’ he shouted.
‘I don’t want a damn drink,’ said Hermes irritably.
‘Of course you do. Aria!’
A voice floated over from the other side of the swimming pool. Hermes looked up, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the scantily-clad nymph who’d suddenly appeared.
‘My lord?’
‘Aria, this is Herm. Herm, Aria.’
She curtsied prettily, dipping low enough so that the loose robe which was supposed to be covering her effectively hid nothing. Hermes swallowed.
‘Aria,’ Coop continued, ‘get my good friend Herm here a drink. One of those purple things with swirls in and lots of ice will do. I’ll have the same, but,’ he added with a wink, ‘make mine a double.’
She curtsied again, and left.
‘Isn’t she marvellous?’ he murmured.
Hermes, whose eyes had been following the departure of the sashaying nymph, snapped his half-open jaw shut and refocused his attention onto his friend.
‘You seem to be in a good mood.’
‘It’s true,’ said Coop languidly, ‘I’ve been in a bit of a funk of late. But I am indeed feeling remarkably chipper now. Aforementioned hangover aside, of course.’
‘And what’s brought on this sudden volte-face then?’
‘My friend, I’ve decided to take a holiday. A long, extended holiday. You might call it a sabbatical even.’
‘I see,’ said Hermes slowly. ‘And have you run this, er, holiday by anyone?’
‘I don’t need to. I am my own man.’ He shrugged. ‘Or god, rather. In fact, as a love god – as the love god – I feel like it’s time to put some of my skills into more ardent practice. There are plenty more where Aria came from.’
‘I feel faintly nauseous.’
Coop laughed and clapped his friend on the back. ‘Join me. You must be bored of all that to-ing and fro-ing to run messages for others.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Let’s have some fun.’
Hermes shook his head sadly, watching his friend with the expression of someone who was seeing the deep, dark chasm of doom.
‘You should probably answer the summons first. Before you make too many plans, that is.’
‘She can’t stop me.’
A shadow fell across the pair, blocking out the golden sunlight. ‘Oh yes, she can.’
Hermes immediately straightened, colour highlighting his cheekbones. He began to cough, although whether it was due to shock or embarrassment wasn’t entirely clear. Coop raised his sunglasses, noted the woman in front of him and lowered them again. Other than that, he didn’t move.
‘Mother. How good of you to visit.’
‘Hermes, leave us.’ It wasn’t a request.
‘Certainly! At once,’ Hermes stuttered, wheeling round and almost stumbling headlong into the turquoise-blue pool in his
haste to get away.
Aria, who was just entering with two tall glasses perched on top of an elaborate silver tray, caught sight of the new visitor, paused for a fraction of a second with her mouth dropping into a perfect circle, then abruptly turned and left.
‘You’re frightening everyone away,’ Coop murmured.
Aphrodite stared down at her son, her face a frozen mask of wrath. ‘Apparently I don’t seem to be having the same effect on you. That’s unfortunate because if you don’t pull yourself together, put on some clothes and present yourself properly at Olympus within the hour then, so help me, I will not be responsible for the consequences.’
Coop raised his sunglasses again. ‘What?’ he asked, with a mocking edge to his voice. ‘You mean you’d do something to hurt your beloved son?’
The answering look in Aphrodite’s eyes would have sent many a lesser being to cower behind the nearest rock.
‘I have other children. And all of them are a damn sight more responsible and trustworthy than you.’
‘I fail to see what the problem is. I was working yesterday, doing your bidding. Today I am taking some time off to relax and recuperate. Tomorrow I may just take off some more time.’
‘You idiot,’ she hissed. ‘You have absolutely no idea, have you? Do you remember the assignment in Kos last month?’
Coop frowned, as if deep in thought. ‘Hmm. Kos, you say? To be honest, I don’t.’
‘Well, let me jog your memory. You had to shoot the couple on the beach just after dawn. You spent most of your time drinking in some dive of a bar.’
He smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. ‘Oh, I remember now. Good whisky.’
‘Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time concentrating on what was in your glass and worried more about what you were supposed to be doing, we wouldn’t be in this mess.’
‘I really have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘You got it wrong,’ Aphrodite said flatly. ‘The beach was deserted and you still managed to screw it up. Do you have any idea how complicated it’s going to be to straighten out your mess?’
‘Mother, dearest, my aim was true,’ Coop began.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said sarcastically, ‘you hit your mark alright. It was just the wrong mark.’
He raised himself onto his elbows, a furrow suddenly creasing his forehead. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You shot the wrong man, you fool.’
Coop began to lie back down on the lounger again as if in dismissal. ‘No, I didn’t.’
In a sudden fit of uncharacteristically physical anger, Aphrodite kicked the foot of the sun lounger, causing it to collapse with a clatter. Coop, landing with a heavy thud on the ground, scowled up at her. ‘That was completely uncalled for.’
‘Get up.’
For a moment he considered ignoring her completely but there was a tinge of angry disappointment in his mother’s eyes, which he’d never seen before. And besides, his arse hurt from dropping so unexpectedly onto the hard concrete of the pool’s edge. With a sigh, he pulled himself up to standing height, towering over Aphrodite’s shorter frame.
‘Shoot the man on the beach,’ he said finally, giving in to the inevitable. ‘That’s what your email said. I may have been drunk but I remember it quite clearly.’
‘By,’ she replied shortly.
‘Huh?’
‘Shoot the man by the beach. Not on the beach.’
‘There was no man by the beach. It was barely dawn, Mother, the place was deserted.’
She didn’t even blink, just stared up at him, a tiny muscle flickering in her cheek. Coop looked back at her, his face the picture of innocence. There had been no-one else at the damned place, just the jogger, the man with the dog and the…
He blinked. ‘Oh.’
‘So you didn’t remember quite as clearly as you thought you did?’
Coop raised his index finger in realisation. ‘The ice-cream guy. He was the one?’
She sighed. ‘Yes. He was by the beach. Not on the beach. By the beach.’
‘On, by, to be honest it’s a very small difference.’ He shrugged. ‘Easy mistake to make. Besides, what does it actually matter? I’ll find some other poor girl for Mr Rocky Road to fall in love with and everyone will be happy. It’s not a big deal.’
Aphrodite slapped him across the cheek. ‘How dare you?’ she spat. ‘You know very well it doesn’t work like that.’
The answering look of cynicism in her son’s face was clear. ‘If they were meant to be together, then they would be.’ He raised a hand to his stinging cheek for a moment and looked Aphrodite directly in the eyes. ‘My intervention wouldn’t be necessary if it was true love. Except true love doesn’t exist. So whether the jogger ends up with an ice-cream seller or a local with a dog, who cares?’ He shrugged. ‘They’ll be happy either way.’
There was the faintest slump in his mother’s body. ‘When did you become like this?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like someone who is so disgusted with the world that they’ll ignore the natural order and throw every sensible thought and caution to the wind.’
‘Natural order?’ he scoffed. ‘How is it natural if I need to shoot them for them to realise how they feel?’
‘You know very well that sometimes a little push is required. You’ve forced the wrong two people to be together and, unless I sort out your mess, they’ll be unhappy for the rest of their lives. All because of you.’
‘Thanks to me,’ he pointed out, ‘they’re now in love.’
‘With the wrong person.’
‘There’s no such thing as the right person, Mother. It’s all smoke and mirrors.’
‘The stars…’
‘Screw the stars. Screw fate. And screw love.’
Aphrodite stiffened then pulled back her shoulders in a dignified gesture. ‘You cannot spit on everything I stand for, Coop. I will not allow it.’ She took a step forward and stared up at her son. ‘Present yourself at Olympus before the sun sets or I will not be responsible for my actions.’
With that, she turned on her heel and left, her back ramrod straight. Coop watched her go, a scowl marring his handsome features. She had spent too long as the Goddess of Love, he decided, and her vision was clouded by her ridiculous belief that some people were just destined to be together. She simply couldn’t grasp the fact that if it was truly their destiny, his services wouldn’t be required. She probably needed a long holiday too. He’d suggest as much to her later when he turned up at the seat of the gods. Of course, he was only going to appear at Olympus because, as his mother, she deserved a modicum of respect. He certainly wasn’t afraid of her. Bending over, he returned the sun lounger to its original position and lay back down. There was still time for a little nap.
Chapter Four
The trouble, Skye was starting to realise, was that it was all very well deciding to be more lion than mouse and up sticks to the big city, but the theory was an awful lot easier than the practice. Emma had stayed true to her word, not only helping her get a job in Nemesis, the same nightclub as herself, but also putting her up in the house she already shared with two other girls, Joy and Chrissie. Skye had felt welcome from the outset, even though the room she was sleeping in was more cupboard than actual bedroom, and the three of them were fun to be around. But, almost three weeks into her big move, and she still felt like a fish out of water. A floundering, flailing fish out of water.
Working at the club was fun, if bewildering. It was a vast space encompassing a range of different ‘rooms’, which pumped out diverse music, allowing patrons to enjoy whatever they were in the mood for. There were at least a hundred employees, many of them a similar age to herself, who worked as everything from waitresses to dancers. As the newest recruit, Skye had been designated the Chill-out Room, a small space filled with ambient music where weary clubbers could relax. Considering that the majority of Nemesis’s customers went there to dance energetically or to see and be seen, few ended
up in her area. Skye was secretly grateful for that; she enjoyed finally having some work to do but she found the crowds that frequented the nightclub vaguely terrifying. And that was to say nothing of the club’s owner, a gruff, large bear of a man who barked out orders and stared hard at anyone who didn’t immediately jump to his bidding. In her one and only meeting with him, she’d found herself completely tongue-tied and red cheeked. It was just as well Emma had already vouched for her.
Still, she got one day off a week, which she spent searching for other jobs more suited to her qualifications. Nothing had turned up as yet but she remained optimistic. Despite the late nights, she managed to rise early and use her time fruitfully. Emma, however, was somewhat baffled by her efforts.
‘Skye, you need to live in the moment,’ she kept insisting. ‘The wages at Nemesis are fantastic, the lifestyle is beyond brilliant and you get to meet all manner of people.’
Emma’s eyes had gleamed at that last comment and Skye was fully aware what kind of people she’d been referring to. Just the previous evening her friend had been flirting incorrigibly with a group of men who’d travelled in from the States on business and had come to the club to wind down and experience some of London’s nightlife. She’d finally tottered home at about ten o’clock in the morning, bleary-eyed, and headed straight for the warmth and comfort of her bed.
Skye envied Emma’s relaxed manner and open, easygoing nature, which allowed her to make new friends at the drop of a hat. Whenever a customer spoke to Skye, she was professional and polite but she couldn’t strike up conversations like Emma. Socialising was an art form, Skye decided, and most definitely one at which she did not excel. If she was going to get anywhere in life, however, she was going to have to work harder at it.
With that thought in mind, she decided she would begin by winning over her colleagues. Life at Nemesis meant antisocial hours, but that didn’t mean it was an antisocial environment. Skye might not find it particularly easy to force her way into conversations in the spacious staffroom during her breaks, but she knew she could get to know other people besides Emma, Joy and Chrissie. And the best way to do that was by baking. After all, she figured, everyone loved cupcakes, and they were definitely something she knew how to make. That was the reason why she was foregoing her usual afternoon trawl for job opportunities and concentrating on swirling the intricate Nemesis logo in icing on top of a range of chocolate, red velvet and lemon cakes.