“Fuckin’ hippy slut,” Ricky snapped as he looked at the photograph of Leah and Paige together. “’Though I’d fuck ‘em ‘ard!”
Roger ignored Ricky’s leering. “Now, you know Paige’s father was originally married to Jack’s aunt Lucinda?”
“Eh, is t’at incest?”
Roger exhaled. “No. But it was a surprising link, especially as Jack’s family and Paige’s family supposedly don’t like each other. And onto Hazel.”
“What’s ma bitch been up to?”
“Very little,” he said. “We can find nothing untoward in her private life. Jeremy on the other hand …”
Ricky’s eyes lit up; Roger spent an hour detailing the evidence he had gathered, the information they had received and amount of surveillance each member of Paige’s family had received.
Ricky left the office, the pale manila file tucked under his arm. He had the evidence he thought he needed to prove to himself that Paige was involved in the hacking of his accounts and the humiliation he had suffered as a result.
Chapter LXXVI
Paige
The views of the square were breathtakingly impressive, and Paige sat on the hotel window seat watching the Russian citizenry undertake their daily lives. The architecture looked ten times more grandiose in person than the photos Paige had seen before she arrived in the Russian capital.
“How is our communist finding the birthplace of communism?” Jack teased, sitting opposite his pregnant girlfriend. She ignored his jibe; catching the feint whiff of mischief in his voice.
“Capitalist utopia, now. Full of heartless bastards using dirty money to buy football teams. With all that disgusting orgy of uncapped and immoral wealth, you must be in your element.”
“Ah but …”
“Is there a point to this?” Paige asked. “Yes, it's very nice and I'm sure they'd love to sing the Red Flag with me. Now please, piss off and give me space.”
“Still worrying about Hazel?”
Paige sighed. She nodded and stared out of the window again. She hadn’t divulged to Jack the story of the encrypted drive. He knew that she had been to visit Emit and he had relayed a flaw character in her brother-in-law. “Although, I don’t know if that’s all true or if he just told me this stuff because he thought that’s what I wanted to hear. But I’ve sent lots of text messages and Hazel’s ignored ‘em and she's not picking up her calls.”
“She rang me earlier. Changes to our schedule. And I spoke to Andre and Hazel’s PA too. She’ll come round. No need to be worried.”
“There is. I tried speaking to Mum, and she's just said that Hazel has been 'round there but she's not getting involved in our sisterly dispute. Just that she wants us both to move on. I just told her that she needs to keep an eye on Hazel with that psychopath or I will fly back home and deal with it myself.”
“Just give everyone space,” Jack suggested.“You did call her husband a nutter among other things. Give Hazel space.”
“He is a nutter. He's a nasty piece of work,” Paige replied and looked at her partner. “OK, I'll show you.”
She reached down from her window seat to her phone and flicked through her contacts application. Jack's unease was palpable with his body language, but he didn't dare argue with the stubborn expression on Paige's face.
The phone's speakers burst into life; the ring tone of a UK mobile filled their hotel room until the obnoxious voice of her brother-in-law interrupted the mechanical purring.
Paige's smile was unmistakable. “Ricky, this is Paige.”
“What the fuck do ya wan'?”
“Ahh, I see we've sobered up to our usual horrible self. What do I want? I am sending you a bill. A very big bill.”
“I ain't payin' you jack!”
“Well pay me instead of Jack then.” Paige giggled. “Oh. Well I was speaking to Lucinda before we left. We have a £120,000 bill from the venue plus the cost of hiring the hall and the money we forfeit is a cool £220,000. So we are sending you a bill, which if not paid within a month, we are suing you for. And …”
“Fuck off!” Ricky squealed. “Fuck yo and yo stupid party.” Paige put the phone on the window sill and looked at Jack with a quizzical look as Ricky's rant continued.
“Yo busting my balls for a few bottles that got spilt. Two hundred stacks, fuck yo! Yo a fuckin' cheap pussy ringin' me wit' t'is shit, girlie. Now yo better get back in y'all pink panties and fuck off 'cos I ain't likin' t'is shit y'all tryin' to pull on me. Yo hear me?”
“We heard you. Didn't understand a word that came out of your mouth. So let me make this nice and easy for you ‘cause you’re a wee bit simple. Either I get payment to repair the damage you did or I will sue you and take all your cars off of you in the courts. And then I'll sell them. And if I still ain't got my money, I'm going to start with your jewellery. And then your properties. And only, only when I have my money will I let you go. Now … yo’ hear me?”
There was a pause for a few moments. “I've knocked bitches out for less shit. I know where yo' live. Yo baby, yo try any shit on me and yo might no have a 'ouse or yo' baby no more. Yo hear me?”
Paige laughed at his threats; Jack's eyes widened. “I hear you. But yo make me laugh,” she said as she mimicked his tone of voice. “'cause yo' is full of shit.” She coughed. “I am not scared of you Ricky. I gave up being scared of feeble male bullies when I was at primary school and I ain't starting now. I will have you 'cause you ruined our big day and you owe us big time.”
“I ain’t payin’ yo’ a dime. I know it was yo’ in league with t’at Emit who ‘acked my phone and I ain’t droppin’ no two hundred large on yo’ sorry arse. Fuck yo’ Paige. Yo’ wanna war. Yo’ can ‘ave one!”
“I ain’t in league with Emit. I don’t like him one bit.”
Ricky spluttered. “I know he’s your bitch. I know you stuff ‘bout you.”
He didn't wait for Paige to respond but he hung up with a profanity.
“See. Total arsehole. Delusional too”
“You just told a paranoid guy with an anger problem that he is being sued for almost a quarter of a million pounds and you are surprised by the reaction.”
“Not at all,” Paige replied instantly. “But I hope it causes Hazel to ring and talk to me. There’s something going on.”
Jack eyed his girlfriend. “You know, I always have the same feeling with you.”
Chapter LXXVII
Jack
The couple had spent the late morning and afternoon wandering aimlessly around Russia's majestic capital city. Two of Paige's political friends were in Moscow, and they met up on the banks of the River Moskva, eating a picnic yards from a bright red bridge.
It was a cool day, mild for the time of year, and far from ideal naturism weather. Paige was needlessly reminded by Jack that under no circumstances should she think about disrobing. Twenty young people, many of them students, laughed and shared food on the freshly-cut lawn, watching the parade of motor vehicles and busy Muscovites as they underwent their daily business.
Paige and Jack were not afforded special treatment and nor did they seek it; they bought some local produce from a supermarket before meeting the group. Several expensive boats roared past them, and as the daytime flickered towards twilight a mist arrived on the horizon, bathing much of the city in a mysterious quality.
Claire moaned at them that they were late when the couple arrived back at their plush hotel, and the Russian producer moaned louder when the taxi's driving made them even later.
It was a favour from the BBC; with the EuroSong contest a few weeks away Hazel and the EuroSong producer had arranged for them to visit a number of countries to sing their song live on their local television. Russia was the first stop on their tour.
The English language satellite channel had a small number of subscribers, but some of their content was syndicated to other networks. It was not “high-profile” but it was better than nothing and appearing on Russian television would be remembered
and replayed come the tournament. Few Western acts took the time to come to Moscow before the tournament
Their chaperone, since landing in Moscow, was a balding, overweight gentleman, called Konstantin; Paige and Claire had both tried to talk to him in between his monosyllabic English barks but he was not talkative. He had a young daughter, and that was all they knew.
That day, his angry barbs were louder and more pronounced than ever; he was unhappy at their lateness and he had no hesitation in reminding the band that they were late, were holding everybody up and the producer was threatening to pull them from the show.
Paige allowed him to “rescue” the situation with a heated argument in Russian, but ending in both their chaperone and the Russian presenter laughing loudly as they pointed in their direction. “Would it have been lovely to have learnt some Russian?” Claire mused.
They had visited over 40 countries during their world tours, but had failed to learn much of the language from any of them. None of the three members had too much cause to learn any of the local lingua, as everyone had spoken English to them, or there was a translator hired for the duration of their stay. Claire was not alone in wishing that they had spent a little more time learning some of the native tongue in the foreign lands they passed through.
The band were rushed into the dressing room, changing into just T-Shirts and having their skin coated in a fleshy powder; the cameras and studio lights did horrible things to the perception of the skin.
The English-speaking presenter oozed unnatural charm. Claire referred to him as “Caesar Flickerman” causing Paige to break into a wry smile as they briefly met the suited suave gentleman. Jack looked perplexed. “Modern literature not your thing, is it?” Paige teased.
“Harry Potter?”
“So uncultured …” Paige giggled.
“Well it’s not Tolkien or Salinger. Or even Dan Brown. That’s culture. Heard of those?” Paige snorted.
The band were warmly applauded as they strode onto the stage a few moments later; their host's smile seemed genuine but his silky smooth demeanour would not have shown disapproval even if he had meant it. The trio laughed and joked with him, and were candid as he probed the reasons for their split.
“We failed,” Paige dryly and tactlessly admitted. “Jack tried politics and he failed, I tried being a solo artist or an actress and I failed. And Claire tried life and failed. As a unit we are great, far greater than the sum of our parts.”
The host put his hand on Paige's knee with a syrupy smile. “You didn’t fail at everything, my dear.” He gestured to the audience who warmly accepted his cue to cheer the pregnant musician. “And I see someone got very busy being away from the band.” He tapped Paige's belly. “And we all hope that he inherits your talents and good looks.
There was a pause. “Or she …” Paige's smile vanished, her look became icy. “It could be a young lady.”
The host's expression flickered; still warm, yet unsure if, or how, Paige's mood was going to turn. “Of course.” He turned to Jack. “So tell us, what have you been up to in the Capital? What do you like best?”
“It really is Caesar Flickerman!” Paige joked to Claire; her jibe was picked up my the microphone and a titter emerged from the audience. “We went to see Red Square and then had a picnic with some activists. Two of them were arrested last month by the arrogant Mr Putin.”
A gentle gasp swept through the audience at the mention of the Russian president's name. “I'm sure …”
“They were arrested because they are gay. Well gay activists. This is a great city but it's stained with the stench of homophobia. What is it, Putin has against the LGBT community? I swear all that half-naked muscle-bound sexually-provocative photographs is just a ploy to get himself into some seriously hardcore for-men-only magazine.”
“Paige …” Jack cried; they could both see the producer waving his hands behind the camera as Paige's rant continued.
“Is it because Vladdy-boy's ashamed of his own homosexual attractions? Does he slip off to saunas in his spare time? I just don't understand …”
The host finally wrestled the conversation from Paige as the audience disapproval became noticeable and audible. He looked stunned, and for the first time all evening, was unsure of what to do or how to react. His smoothness disintegrated by Paige's outburst.
“And I think now will be a good time for the Bare Necessities to play us out,” he called and pointed towards the music set to his left. “And thank you to Jack, to Claire, and the Bare Necessities!”
With the audience's temper still bubbling, they walked to their instruments, discarding their T-Shirts as they walked, before giving Russian television a rendition of their song.
The headlines, though, would not mention a single note of the music.
Chapter LXXVIII
Hazel
The man sneered, glancing at his wife a few feet away in the door to their lounge. She carried a tray of cool lager bottles: his favourite brand. Three of his friends lay on the sofa, laughing at a tablet which was passed from Ricky to his guests.
Hazel recognised two of the guests: Ben and Jay were in Ricky's old band and their bare chests displayed their tattoos. The third member of Ricky's party Hazel had never seen before. Short hair with an aggressive sneer to his expression. His muscle-bound physique was decorated with sexually explicit body art and misogynistic slogans. She noticed three deep scars across his flesh.
“Hey, Ricky, yo' bitch is likin' my tats!” Ricky glanced over at Hazel setting the tray of cold drinks on the table in the room.
He picked up the tablet and swiped it, passing it to his wife. “What do you think of m' bros' new track?” Hazel glanced up at the drunken men watching her expression as she tentatively clicked the triangle on the screen.
Hey, this smokin' bitch is strippin' off her keks.
Lovin' all the blokes dreamin' of her sex.
We've all knocked one out when she comes on TV
Dirty little whore, probably got some STD!
Want to fuck her big time, not want my knob go green
As we take our turns, the fuckin' slut is keen
Now she's got herself knocked up nice and good.
Let's party on Paige 'cause she's the slut in the hood
You hold her down. She can't get caught again.
She's already naked, so desperate to get lain.
We say strip the bird, fuck the bird, we're gonna fuck the bird, gonna fuck the bird
We say strip the bird, fuck the bird, we're gonna fuck the bird, gonna fuck the bird.
Hazel stared open-mouthed at the obscene and violent rap lyrics coming from the tablet, discarding it on the sofa. “You can't say that.”
“Yeah right!”
“You can't say that,” she continued, shouting louder. She glared at her husband. “That's my sister. You can't say that. You can't fucking say that.”
Ricky stood from his seat, squaring up to his wife. “My friends will release whatev'r tracks they wanna. And you're gonna 'elp 'em find a fucking deal.”
Hazel sneered. “No way. They'll be toast the moment a single paper gets hold of them.” She backed away, only for Ricky to grab hold of the young lady.
“Be a host,” he smarmily said, grabbing hold of her wrists and squeezing them until she squealed. “Be a good little host and entertain.” He affected a fake upper-class accent. “Hazel dear, please show my friends here, just what you got up to at those little naturist events you went to with your fucking freaky sister.”
Hazel's eyes widened. She shook her head. “Oh no!”
“You will do as you're told,” he yelled and pulled her forward before ripping at her designer dress. The four men brutishly ripped the outfit from her body, covering her arms in bruises as she fought them.
They cackled at the abuse; her desperate attempts to stop them in vain as eight strong hands tore all her clothes from her body. They taunted her with misogynistic threats. Ricky pulled his wife onto the sofa, so h
er naked body was on top of him, for Ben and Jay to lewdly photograph the bare woman.
Which they tweeted to the Internet - “Hanging out at Ricky's place …” was the subject; the picture was of violence.
Not that anyone realised. Except Paige. She knew her sister better than anyone.
Chapter LXXIX
Paige
Paige rang her sister the next day; Andre answered the phone. “Where’s Hazel?” Paige demanded.
“Oh hello Paige,” Andre called. “She’s on the other line. How’s Moscow? Is it Moscow or is it …”
“It’s Moscow. It’s shit. I need to speak to Hazel.”
“She’s just talking to someone else.”
“Get her on the phone. I don’t want her talking to someone else. I want her to be talking to me.”
“Yeah, oh and we’ve got another date for you in Iceland and …”
“Excellent,” Paige interrupted. “I don’t care. Where’s Hazel?”
Andre sighed. “You know, you really need to work on your patience. Let lubricant into your piranha tank, Paige. Breathe in the …”
“Andre! Get Hazel on the line.” He grunted; Paige heard the line click and soft classical music filled her ears. “Bastard’s put me on hold!” She jabbed at her phone keypad until Hazel picked up her phone.
“What’s up?”
“What the fuck is going on Hazel?” Paige asked aggressively.
“What do you mean?”
“That photo last night. There’s no way you posed for that. What’s going on?”
Hazel sighed. “Nuttin’ Paige. Honestly I had a bit to drink and we had a laugh and it got a bit out of hand,” she lied.
Paige gulped. “Now posting naked pictures to Twitter. If it was me, it’s in character. If it’s Claire, still in character. If it’s you, it ain’t. I know you.”
Bare Necessities 2 (The Bare Necessities) Page 32