Calamity Jena

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  Matt’s fist shot out in the direction of Joe’s eye.

  “What the hell?” Joe shouted as he covered the rapidly swelling eye.

  Grunt ignored his friend as he quietly faced Matt. “Let’s get something clear. I’m here to stay. Claire will come around. I’m going to marry her, have a family with her and make her happy for the rest of her life. If you have a problem with that, then stay away. Either way, I don’t give a crap. Now, get these cuffs off of me. I’ve got to do some damage control with my woman.”

  Matt took a deep breath. “Not until we clear a couple of things up.” Grunt growled. Matt took that as agreement. “Consider yourself on probation,” Matt said. “I don’t have a problem stepping between you and my sister. You hurt her and you’ll pay. Are we clear?”

  “I won’t hurt her.”

  Matt ran a hand through his hair and nodded at Lake, who produced a set of keys.

  “I’m watching you,” Matt told Grunt. “One wrong move and they won’t find the body.”

  “I heard you the first time, brother,” Grunt said. “You’d better get used to me. You’re about to have a Yank in the family.”

  He strode out of the door and after Claire.

  Matt righted his office chair and plopped down into it.

  “What about the idiot in the cell?” Jason said. “You going to arrest him?”

  “No.” Matt let out a sigh. “I’ll give him a warning and an escort to the airport. I want him gone. Any volunteers?”

  Pete shrugged. “I could use a trip to Glasgow.”

  “You’re it, then.”

  Pete nodded in Joe’s direction. “What about those two?”

  “Those two,” Joe said, “are staying in town for the foreseeable future. Grunt’s the only family I’ve got. Where he goes. I go.” He grinned at Lake. “Got any vacancies? I can offer you two well-trained marines.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Matt said. “After grabbing Jena, you want Lake to hire you?”

  “Come by the office. We’ll talk,” Lake said.

  “Seriously?” Matt said. “You’re really considering this?”

  Lake gave him a cool look. “They’re well trained. They did the right thing in a bad situation. And it looks like Grunt is sticking around. I would hire him for his right hook alone. Did you see what he did to Frank? There was a hole in the wall where Frank hit it.”

  “That’s it. I’m done. Everybody out.” Matt pointed to the door.

  “He’s a grumpy ass, isn’t he?” Joe said, and Jason laughed.

  Matt stretched out in his chair and closed his eyes. As the men left, he opened one eye and called to Lake. The Englishman turned back to him.

  “Thanks,” Matt said.

  “Anytime.” And then Lake was gone.

  Leaving Matt alone with his bruises.

  30

  “Men are stupid,” Claire said.

  “Dumber than dirt.” Jena lifted her almost empty wine glass to toast Claire’s sentiment.

  “Hey!” Harry called from the bar, where he was perched with his laptop open in front of him. “I’m a man.”

  “Yes, you are.” Magenta patted him on the head before heading back to the table full of women, armed with more bottles of wine.

  Harry shrugged and went back to whatever he was doing.

  The women had pushed two small round tables together in the middle of the bar area of the pub. Jena, Abby, the twins and their best friend Magenta sat around the tables. In the corner, a couple of old men were playing dominoes. It was a quiet Monday night for the pub part of Dougal’s business, but from the hum of noise coming from the restaurant area, he was still having a good night.

  “Samuel told me he was different.” Claire topped up everyone’s glasses.

  “They all say that,” Abby said. “Even David. I still remember his earnest declaration that he was a better man.”

  “Better than what?” Megan said.

  “That was always the questions,” Abby said wistfully.

  “It’s caveman thinking,” Jena said. “Matt’s all ‘grr’, ‘aarrr’. He’s only happy when he’s hitting something or flexing his muscles. When he’s not in protector mode he’s in possessive moron mode. He told me he’s keeping me. Like I’m a piece of lost property no one claimed.”

  Harry let out a bark of laughter, and the women scowled at him.

  “This is ladies’ night,” Claire told her cousin. “Stop listening or leave.”

  “My mistake,” Harry said. “I won’t listen anymore.”

  For a second that seemed reasonable to Jena, and she vaguely wondered how much wine she’d drunk.

  “I don’t belong to anybody,” Jena declared. “I’m my own person. I’m responsible for me.”

  “Hear, hear,” Claire said. “Samuel told me he’s moving here. He keeps telling me I’m his and he’ll stick around as long as it takes for me to agree. That is not normal behaviour. It should have set off alarm bells, but I was too distracted by the muscles and the penis piercing to pay attention.” She sighed. “Sometimes I think the only word he knows is ‘mine’. It’s like those seagulls in Finding Nemo—‘mine, mine, mine, mine…’ I’m nobody’s freaking fish.”

  “You’ve got to stop using the movies you watch in kindy as your social reference point,” Megan said. “Last week you were quoting Mickey Mouse. That is not cool.”

  “Wait a minute.” Abby leaned across the table and pointed in Claire’s face. “Go back a step. He has a penis piercing?” Her eyes went wide.

  “Yep, he has a ring. It’s called a Prince Albert piercing. I don’t know why.”

  As one, the women around the table leaned towards Claire.

  “How does it feel? For you, I mean. You know, when you, you know?” Abby stage-whispered.

  Harry coughed loudly. Jena frowned at him. Was he listening again? He seemed focused on his computer screen, so she turned her attention back to Claire, who was blushing bright red.

  “We haven’t done that yet.”

  “Can you call us once you have,” Magenta said. “I’d like to know how it goes.” She gave Harry a thoughtful look. “Maybe it’s something we can try.”

  Harry choked on a mouthful of coffee. Yep, he was definitely listening. Jena frowned over at him, but he kept his eyes on the screen.

  “Is it a normal ring, or a vibrating ring?” Abby said.

  The women stared at her.

  “What?” She held up her hands. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

  “Can you even get vibrating rings?” Megan asked. “Is that just your imagination talking?”

  Nobody knew the answer. Jena whipped out her cell phone and consulted the oracle Google.

  “Holy crap,” she said. “You can get loads of vibrating rings for all different parts of the body.” She gave her friends a look of wonder. “There’s vibrating tongue jewellery.”

  Abby spun on Claire. “Does he have his tongue pierced?”

  “No.” Claire looked disappointed before she remembered she planned to have nothing more to do with the man. “This is a moot discussion. I’ve broken up with Samuel. He isn’t the man I thought he was.” She pointed at Jena in outrage. “He kidnapped my friend!”

  “Good point,” Abby said. “But do you think he would get his tongue pierced if you asked him to?”

  “How much wine have you had?” Jena said, confiscating Abby’s glass.

  “Enough to know I’m horny and fascinated by vibrating male body parts. You should be applauding me. It’s only taken three years, but my sex drive has finally woken up.”

  Jena returned Abby’s wine glass, then gave her a hug. “You’re right. Ask all the questions you want to ask.”

  “You know,” Megan said, “I’ve often thought men’s body parts should vibrate. And not just their penises either. Vibrating fingers would come in really handy. Get it? Handy!”

  The women descended into giggles.

  Matt stood in the doorway of the police s
tation’s only cell. Frank Di Marco sat on the bed smiling smugly up at him.

  “You’re being escorted to Glasgow Airport. You’ll be put on the first flight out of here. If you show your face in town again, you’ll be arrested for kidnapping and assault. This is a one-time deal. I would take it seriously if I were you. I’m more than happy to lock you up and throw away the key.”

  Frank sneered at him. “This isn’t over.”

  “It is for you. Find another way to save your club and your sorry arse. Jena is a dead end. Am I clear?”

  “Oh yeah, you’re clear.” The hard, flat look in Frank’s eyes was murderous.

  Matt didn’t care. He just wanted him gone. He closed the door. Pete waited in the reception area.

  “Get his stuff from the hotel, take the SUV and get him out of here.”

  “You want him cuffed?”

  “Absolutely. Take no chances. Keep him immobile until he’s on that plane. Then he’s somebody else’s problem.”

  “Gotcha.” Pete headed to the door.

  “I’ll call ahead, make all the arrangements for him. I’ll have someone waiting for you at the airport. This isn’t official. There’s no court order for his removal, but we’ll make it look good. Just get him on the plane. I’ve had enough of him.”

  “Haven’t we all?” Pete said as he pushed the door.

  Matt headed back to the office, passing the tiny kitchen, where Joe was making coffee. He cocked an eyebrow at the man. “Why are you still here?”

  Joe shrugged. “Thought I’d hang around in case you needed another pair of hands. Plus I might get the opportunity to hit Frank.”

  Shaking his head at the guy, Matt left him to it and went to make the calls. The sooner Frank was gone, the better.

  Girls’ night out had descended into chaos. Sometime after the great penis debate, the women of Knit or Die had come in from the restaurant and joined the party. The half-dozen or so middle-aged women bought more wine and commiserated over stories about stupid macho men who thought they owned their women.

  Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned to Jena’s many problems. At the news of how much work she had yet to do in her house, the women organised a work party for the following weekend. The older women insisted she raid their garages and attics for anything she could put to use in her house. There were hugs all around—and more bottles of wine.

  It was after Jena had lost track of how much wine she’d drunk that the conversation turned to earning money. Jena informed everyone that her only marketable skill was dancing, but Matt had forbidden her to run classes in her garage. There was outrage. Which pleased her immensely.

  “What kind of dancing do you do?” Kirsty’s mom, Margaret Campbell, asked. “Do you twerk? We learned to twerk for Caroline’s wedding.”

  Shona nodded. “Twerking is hard on the hips.”

  “I was a go-go dancer, so I did all types of dancing,” Jena said.

  “What’s a go-go dancer?” someone asked.

  “It’s a dancer who revs up the crowd, gets everyone excited about being there, makes sure there’s a good party atmosphere. She gives people something to watch.”

  “Is there stripping involved?” Margaret asked.

  Jena frowned at her. Why did people always think she was a stripper? Did she look like a stripper? She eyed her feet. Maybe it was the shoes. “A go-go dancer is not a stripper. Sure, you wear sexy club gear, but you don’t take it off. You don’t work a stage and you don’t dance to make the men horny. Mainly you get a tiny area high above the crowds.” She eyed the table in front of her. “About the size of this table. And you dance like a demon in it. The idea is to get the party going. We’re like club cheerleaders.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Megan said. “I’d be good at it.”

  “You would be amazing,” Jena agreed, even though she didn’t know if Megan could dance or not.

  “Did you train as a dancer?” Magenta asked.

  “Kind of.” Jena shrugged. “I had classes when I could afford them, but mainly I learned from the dancers around the clubs where my mom sang. I spent a lot of time with them and they’d teach me things and let me practice with them.”

  “That sounds cool,” Megan said.

  Or lonely, Jena thought.

  “Okay.” Shona pointed at Jena. “Get up on the table and show us what you’ve got.”

  “Aye.” Margaret nodded. “If you’re offering to teach us to dance, we need to see if you have the skills or not.”

  Jena laughed. “I can’t dance to this.” The pub was playing folk music.

  “You’ve got tunes in that huge bag of yours,” Abby said. “Dig them out.”

  Jena felt her excitement build as she did as she was told. She handed her iPod to Megan. “The playlist labelled ‘dance’ is the one I need.”

  “On it.” Megan turned to the bar, where the new bar staff was hiding.

  Early in the evening the twins had discovered the woman was called Mindy. They’d greeted her with “Na-Nu Na-Nu” every time they went to the bar, and swore an oath to help her find her Mork. The woman didn’t know whether to scream or laugh.

  “Dougal won’t let me change the music,” Mindy whined.

  “Dougal isn’t here,” Megan pointed out. “He’s at the council meeting. They go on for ages. What’s the harm in playing some better music for a wee while?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “I’ll set it all up. You don’t need to do anything.” Megan let herself behind the bar. “That way, if Dougal is angry, he can be angry with me.” She gave Mindy a bright smile.

  The woman backed away from Megan. It was clear to Jena that Mindy wasn’t cut out for pub work. Megan disappeared through a door behind the bar, and a moment later will.i.am’s latest hit blasted through the room.

  The old guys playing dominoes shouted their protest. The women whooped with joy. Chairs were pushed back to make a dance floor. The table in front of Jena was cleared. A second later she was standing on top of it, letting loose. It felt great.

  “You’re really good,” Shona shouted above the music. “She’s really good,” she told anyone who would listen.

  Jena tuned them out. She was in the zone. The door to the restaurant opened and curious townsfolk flooded in. The lights dimmed. The laughter grew. And the dancing started in earnest.

  It was club night at The Scottie Dog.

  31

  Matt answered his phone with a growl. Frank was on his way to Glasgow. He’d just gotten rid of one problem, and he didn’t need another one. If this was Morag calling about her bloody cat, he was going to lose the plot entirely.

  “You need to get down to the pub,” Harry said in his ear. He sounded like he was grinning. “Your woman is drunk and dancing on a table.”

  “What the hell? I can hardly hear you over the music. Talk louder.”

  There was a pause. “We’re in the pub. Jena’s dancing on a table. So are the twins. And Kirsty’s mum. Yep. That’s the whole Knit or Die crew up on tables now too. I’m fairly certain only half of them are drunk.”

  Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m on my way.”

  “Yeah, you don’t want to miss this. Your Jena’s got moves that shouldn’t be seen in public. She’s gathering an audience. I reckon you’re about five minutes away from Jena being propositioned by half the men in here. Wow, I didn’t know a body could do that. I really need to get Jena to teach Magenta how to dance. Magenta dances like a five-year-old at a school disco.”

  With a growl, Matt hung up.

  “Need help?” Joe was still hanging around the station. Why, Matt didn’t know.

  He let out a sigh. “Another set of hands would probably be good. The women are drunk and dancing on the tables at the pub.”

  With a wide grin, Joe dug out his phone. “Your woman’s at the pub,” was all he said.

  “Grunt’s coming too then,” Matt said with resignation.

  Joe rubbed his hands together
. “This should be fun.”

  “Aye. Fun,” Matt said grimly.

  He left his stab vest hanging on the back of his chair. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t need it to deal with the women. On second thoughts… He strapped the vest back on.

  “Coward,” Joe mocked.

  “Let’s see if you’re still saying that at the end of this thing.” Matt locked up the station behind them. It was a five-minute walk to the pub, but he pointed to his car. He’d need it with him to get Jena home.

  “I like this town. I’m gonna get a kick out of living here.” Joe grinned as they headed to the pub.

  A DJ remix of popular UK bands of the eighties was blasting through the pub. Jena was in her happy place. The music had taken over. Her body was flowing to the rhythm. The troubles of the past few months faded away. There was just the movement of her body and the vibrations of the beat as it thrummed through her. It reminded her of the parts of her life she missed. The overwhelming noise of the clubs that managed to drive out all other thoughts and somehow gave her brain space to rest. The darkness and coloured lights that made her feel like she was transported somewhere else, somewhere far away from her everyday mundane life. It was like a secret world where she could take a time out from life. And it was wonderful to have a version of it back, even for a little while.

  The music snapped off. “What the bloody hell is going on here?” a voice boomed through the silence.

  The lights came on full. The glare hurt Jena’s eyes and made her groan. Along with about a dozen other women.

  “Dougal, put the music back on right now,” someone ordered.

  “Don’t you tell me what to do, Margaret Campbell. This is my pub. Not yours.”

  It took Jena a minute to focus on the rotund, red-faced Dougal. He didn’t look pleased. His red cheeks clashed with his pink shirt. Not a good look.

  “Get off the tables right now,” he ordered.

  “No.” Margaret put her hands on her hips. “We’re having fun. You’re just being an old fuddy-duddy.”

  Jena started to giggle. Fuddy-duddy. She caught Abby’s eyes and noticed she was smothering a giggle too. Abby stood on the table nearest Jena. With her long brown hair and very proper grey dress, she made it look like Kate Middleton was table dancing. It made Jena giggle harder.