Roskov, Book 2, page 2
‘Kick the door in! Now!’
Dobby kicked hard, Bonza joined in, and it broke, soon open. I ventured inside with my mouth in my elbow, a night knocked on, the old lady on the floor, a dozen knives sticking out of her. I recoiled quickly, gagging.
Mobile phone out, I shouted at them not to go inside. I called the police. ‘It’s Ricky Roskov, I’m at 75 Gloucester Road with a charity worker, and we found a dead body, stabbed. I need SOCO and an ambulance!’
It was just a minute before flashing blue lights preceded a police car screeching to a halt, officers jumping out.
I told them, ‘You’ll need masks on.’
‘Bad, is it?’ they asked, masks out, and in they went.
Back out, masks off, one began, ‘Been dead two days or so, but the purse is there, money in it, jewellery, so it wasn’t druggies.’
‘Not druggies?’ I loudly queried as the neighbours came out. ‘Who the fuck would do that … if not druggies?’
‘That’s what we’ll have to find out.’
More cars arrived, soon an ambulance, and I made a statement, Dobby sent on his rounds after I reassured him that it was not his fault in any way.
Bonza walked back with me, just three streets over. In my house, my parents could see my mood and they stood.
A glance at a sombre Bonza, and I told them, ‘Old lady was murdered, Gloucester Road.’
‘We move this weekend,’ my father snarled. ‘Be good to be gone.’
I thanked Bonza, and I sat with my parents with a cup of tea, the mood well and truly off. Mum was horrified, but glad to be moving, soon on the phone to her friends, one of which lived in Gloucester Road.
The next day in work I told them what had happened, the office staff shocked, the police coming to see me at 2pm, detectives. I made them a cup of tea.
‘What did you see when you first got there?’ the first detective asked me.
‘Lights were out, and they should have been on, the notes for the old lady said that one light stayed on, and … she couldn’t go out unless in an ambulance, so it was odd.
‘I had a look through the letter box and the smell almost knocked me out, could see someone laying down, so we kicked the door in and called your lot. I stepped in, but just a few steps and out before I puked.’
‘It was nasty, yeah, she’d been like that two days or more. Can’t quite pin it down, the time of death, and your charity ladies only just started a paper log of visits. Money is there, nothing taken, so we’re looking at the last visitor, the daughter.’
I shocked upright. ‘The daughter!’
‘Forty-six, and in debt, heavily in debt.’
I shook my head. ‘What the fuck happened to this town?’
‘This is normal for us, trust me. And most murders are in the family.’
‘To murder your own mother…’
‘Not everyone had a happy childhood.’
I nodded. ‘I had a great childhood, loved school, loved playing football. I’d go back and do it all again.’
‘These three girls you’re with…’
‘Yes, they take it in turns for sex, but in turn in the same evening, an hour each.’
They exchanged stunned looks. ‘Well that’s not something I’m going to tell my wife, she might get ideas. Three hours on the job? You must be fit.’
‘I find it arduous, and no fun at all.’
They stared at me till I grinned. ‘Fuck off, you!’
Friday, and Bob Turnball called; Interflora was a go. And could we do it next week? Seychelles was a go, and could we do the week after?
I called the twins and asked that they send Olesya for a TV role on Tuesday, just her needed for the shoot - plus a few old ladies supplied by the TV agent, and that they book the trip to the Seychelles from next Saturday, eleven days.
Rolf had work to do, so Ingrid would fly with the twins, and I would meet the twins in Dubai or at the hotel.
With Trish updated, the diary filled in and contracts signed, I was looking at fourteen thousand pounds plus residuals for my Interflora role, which would take an hour at most to shoot.
Saturday morning, and the moving van arrived just before the Bonza gang and Dobby, a cash-in-hand job.
Boxes loaded, sofa loaded, beds and mattresses, and we were making progress, the old house soon looking empty. One trip to the new house, and the men made light work of it, soon back at the old house for what was left, which was not much – and it all fitted in the van.
House locked, mum and dad in their car, and I drove my own car after the van, the contents soon in the new house.
But I now had a small single bed in a large room, a king sized bed on order with a suitable mattress, plus two monster cabinets for clothes – visitors’ clothes.
With the monster removals men paid and thanked, my car parked outside, my mum made our first cup of tea in the new house, and we sat on our old sofa, a new sofa sought.
‘It’s pigging huge,’ I noted as I took in the ceiling and cornice work.
‘Old lounge was much smaller, but we’ll get used to it,’ my father noted.
‘I was thinking that I get a flat in town. Not to live in, an investment.’
‘They go up in price each year, yes, good investment,’ my father approved.
Sunday, and we drove back in two cars, to check the old house for items left behind, and we found quite a few, a few curtains overlooked, a few light fittings to take with us.
Sleeping in the new house had been odd, the room so large compared to the box room I had been used to all my life. I would go shopping for furniture soon.
Tuesday, and I met Olesya at Heathrow, a big hug, soon on the tube in disguise and heading to the Edinburgh Hotel, not least because from now on my room bookings here were all half price.
At reception the staff were delighted to see us, the manager coming out, and I told him about the Interflora shoot.
Up in the room, just a double bed, I told her, ‘I can give you a massage later, but just a massage.’
Her eyes twinkled. ‘Just a massage?’
I held her shoulders. ‘I’m with the twins, you know that.’
‘They don’t mind, and I don’t mind. We share.’
I cocked an eyebrow. ‘I’ll talk to them on the phone.’
‘Rita said to call you a pussy.’
‘Oh, she did, eh?’
‘Pussy man, pussy, pussy, pussy…’
‘Stop that, you’ll … get my cock hard.’
‘Pussy, pussy, pussy…’
Food ordered, and we sat to eat, talk of the clothes modelling in Sweden, and of the residuals that Olesya was making. I had cash, and I handed her five hundred quid.
‘What is it for?’
‘Any expenses.’
‘The company buy the ticket,’ she puzzled.
‘Then it’s a gift, because I like you.’
‘How much … you like me?’ she teased.
I sighed out. ‘Don’t make it any harder.’
‘Well if I can’t make it hard, you need a doctor.’
My brow furrowed. ‘What?’
‘Your cock.’
‘That was not what I meant.’
‘Ah, sorry, poor Russian girl, not so good the English,’ she teased.
I wagged a finger at her as she gave me a cute sexy smile, my cock getting stiff.
After the food, I gave in to the inevitable and we hit the shower, enough room just about, and she washed me all over. She was an inch shorter than the twins, but other than that they were very much alike, same bra sizes.
Kneeling, she keenly sucked on my end for a minute. ‘You must teach me.’
‘Never done that before?’ I asked.
‘No. But I watch video.’
‘And there was me thinking it was just single men that watched those videos…’
Dried, and in the bed not on it because it was chilly, we kissed as I gently rubbed her pussy, and it was already wet. And I knew her sexual history from the twins, so long as she was not lying about anything.
I eased her up and on top, and she got a hand down, getting my cock inside her to a loud moan. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Little.’
‘Lay down.’
She lay forwards and rested on my chest, my cock still inside, and we waited, just hugging for a few minutes. Finally easing up again, she started to move up and down, my cock being squeezed, a great friction created, the boobs elongating as they hung down, her hair hanging down.
In just a few strokes the moaning started.
‘You OK?’
In ragged breaths, she got out, ‘It is fill me up, but I like have you inside me.’
Gently rocking back and forth, her eyes mostly closed, she kept going, soon a squeeze of my cock as she came, and she flopped onto me. ‘First time.’
‘First … time?’ I was shocked.
‘Only hairbrush.’
I knew what she had said about the past Swedish boyfriend, but had forgotten the lack of cock involved. ‘Just lay still, then try and do the same again.’
After a few minutes, and with my cock still hard, she started again, this time moaning loudly as she got the motion just right, her face flushing red, and she was now breathing hard.
Cumming a second time to a loud moan, she again flopped. I waited a minute then eased her over, my cock pulled out. Bedding pushed back, and I eased out, quickly washing my cock.
Back on the bed, she looked up, a mess of hair and red cheeks as I went for the 69 position. ‘Try and suck the cock as if your mouth is a pussy, tongue forwards, tight.’
At my end, I hit the moist clit and the taste registered, but it was not a bad taste at all, and she was soon moaning, or trying to, her mouth full.
As I got closer to finishing I told her, ‘It tastes bad when I finish, so you can spit in a hand.’
She kept going, and as I came she halted for a few seconds then carried on. Finally gasping for air, she said, ‘Twins tell me to swallow, and … it tastes like caviar, I not sick. I eat shell fish like this.’
‘Good. Suck more, very soft.’
She followed my instructions, and the after-suck was great, none of my swimmers wasted.
Cleaned up, we cuddled, and I held a small arse.
‘My god, first time,’ I noted.
‘Good first time, best man.’
‘Best man?’
‘All in Sweden are jealous of me, which makes me smile. Twins call your agent and we have poster of you, on wall in house. My mother is shocked you are so beautiful.’
‘Ah, so they got some posters of me,’ I said with a broad smile.
‘This is best photo of you, yes. And when I go to shop they let me have some clothes no money.’
‘Good to be popular,’ I commended.
Easing out, and getting some clothes on because it was chilly, I checked the radiators and then explained the Interflora role.
Ready to practice her Interflora role, and she held a plastic pot from the dresser, a welcome smile as she read the card, then she puzzles the odd arrangement, then studies the card again.
‘OK, good. You’re surprised and puzzled not angry, you don’t quite understand it, but I’m mad at you. Try again.’
She repeated the process, from glowing to deeply puzzled.
‘That’s the look, use that look. That’s it.’
‘That is all?’
‘Yes. I have three lines, rest is other actors.’
‘So simple.’
‘You need the face right, that’s all.’
Dressed fully, Oleysa in a new sexy dress that she had secured free of charge, we headed down, and to the bar. Drinks ordered, Smirnoff-Roskovs, and we headed to the piano, which was not in use tonight. She sat as people recognised us, and she began to play, a few people walking over to observe her.
The manager appeared behind us, the snapper arriving on time, and he would get free shots of us on condition that he mentioned that we were here for the new Interflora advert.
After the shots of Olesya playing, and shots of me looking on, I had Olesya pose with me before she returned to playing. The manager had the snapper handed a drink, and we stood chatting quietly about the Seychelles – and keeping the costumes.
Olesya received a loud applause, a man moving in. I moved in quickly when I saw him.
He began, ‘I’m BBC, and we’d like you to play for us.’
I explained to Olesya, ‘English television, music programmes. Do it for free, good publicity.’
‘OK,’ she shrugged.
He asked her to play a piece, the words in Russian. She began to play.
‘Classically trained,’ he enthused. ‘A damn hard piece.’
‘She … sometimes breaks down crying because … as a kid they beat her in the music school, Moscow.’
‘Ah, yes, I read about it, horrid business.’
‘Just don’t be surprised by it.’
He nodded. ‘Can you do Thursday night?’
‘Probably, yes. I’ll want to be there to protect her, but I fly Friday morning.’
‘We’re quite safe.’
‘She’s someone I care about and … she has issues … her past was very painful for her.’
‘I read about some of it.’
‘Just understand that she has the pain to carry around.’
‘I can arrange a large security woman.’
‘Do so, but … she needs a familiar face.’
After a long and loud applause we returned to the bar, the snapper up for a drink, the BBC chap handing me his details and I gave him my mobile number. He knew that we were here in this hotel for two days.
I put an arm around Olesya. ‘If you play well, many people will see you and that helps. But I don’t want you to be sad when you play.’
‘I am not sad when you are here. You will come to see me?’
‘I’ll be at the side of the stage,’ I assured her.
I knew Rolf loved classical music, so I called him on my mobile. ‘Can you come to London for a concert? Thursday night, Olesya will play.’
‘She’ll play?’
‘Yes, good publicity, but tell me … do you think she’ll be sad?’
‘She is getting better every day, and we talk about her past, and I have a psychologist friend who talks to her. She is much better than before.’
‘I need to fly to the Seychelles Friday morning, I should be OK to make it, but I know you like classical music.’
‘Who is playing exactly?’
‘BBC Symphony Orchestra.’
‘Oh my god. I’ll be there.’
‘Don’t get an erection,’ I teased.
‘I am getting an erection, yes.’
‘Thursday lunchtime, Edinburg Hotel again. You can take her back to Sweden.’
An hour later, and in the room, the twins called. ‘Olesya will play a concert?’
‘I don’t know what they want, just a few … songs.’
‘Pieces, not songs, you crazy man.’
I smiled. ‘Pieces.’
‘You film tomorrow?’
‘Yes, Interflora, just an hour for me, same for Olesya. Your father will come Thursday.’
‘He likes the BBC Symphony Orchestra, yes, mother as well.’
I detailed for them my charity work, and the dead old lady - shocking them, how my driving was going, even how the glass sales were going, finally the house move – they would be able to visit.
Rita finally asked, ‘Did you give Olesya a massage?’
‘I did give her one, yes.’
‘Ah, good, but don’t be a pussy man, have sex, make her happy.’
‘Yes, Boss.’
In bed, the light off, Olesya cuddled up to me, and she would not let go. It was a worry, having someone care about me like this, but then I stared up at the ceiling, wondering what was wrong with having someone care about me. And was there something wrong with me?
The next day we set off with bags for the studios, which were again in a warehouse in Docklands. The staff all greeted me, the director soon shaking my hand. He had an actress for the shop assistant role, and amateur actresses for the nan and the mum roles.
Dressed and ready, the actress ready, “Quiet please!”, and I moved into shot, a made-up Interflora shop.
The shop assistant looks up. ‘How can I help you, sir?’ She has paper and pen ready.
‘I want something that tells my nan that she’s the best.’
The assistant smiles warmly and makes a note.
‘Then … I want something that tells my mum that I would visit more if my job was not so manic.’
She again makes a note.
‘Then … I want something -’ I lose my smile. ‘- that tells my girlfriends she’s on borrowed time.’
The assistant struggles to understand and is confused.
‘Cut. Good. Take five.’
As they checked the video and the lighting I chatted to the actress, a cute girl in her twenties with cheek dimples.
They were not happy with her final expression, so she practised that a few times.
Going again, they just had the facial features to focus on, from professional smile to confused and shocked, as to what to do for me. I suggested that she glance at flowers and puzzle them. She does, they like it, and we go again, four cameras on us.
This time they like her expression, but have her touch a catalogue as she appears lost.
Going again, and they’re happy, Interflora to take a look, their marketing staff here.
An hour later and Interflora were happy, so the old ladies were filmed smiling at the receipt of the flowers from me.
Olesya came out of make-up.
Set up ready, “Action!”, and she smiles widely as the flowers are delivered, soon puzzling a circle of black flowers but with red flowers making an unhappy face, two eyes and a mouth upside down.
She checks the card again.
Cut! Good. Take a break.
Lighting adjusted, the plastic shining, and they go again, Olesya again smiling at the receipt of the flowers, then puzzling the unhappy face in black and red, the card checked again.
Break!
An hour later and I was invited to sit with the Interflora staff, all ten of them, all women. The provisionally cut full advert was ready, and we watched it together, the ladies laughing.
