Stone Ruins and City Smoke, page 11
The three friends raised their glasses and chinked them together.
‘Wing chicks!’ Mary bellowed.
Kelly and Beth repeated her toast in unison, if a little quieter.
As the alcohol took effect on the trio, they crooned at the top of their voices to the songs they knew, or made up new lyrics to the ones they didn’t, before making their way to the small dance floor.
‘Shots time!’ Mary called out of the blue.
Kelly followed her wing chicks as they continued to dance in the direction of the bar. Dodging raised pint glasses and men with chest hair erupting from opened shirts as if it was an aphrodisiac to all women, they reached the bar. Mary ordered the shots as Kelly stood patiently beside her.
‘Excuse me, please,’ a male voice came from Kelly’s left.
Turning, she was greeted by a lean gentleman in a charcoal grey suit with a shirt so white it was in danger of blinding her as the lights from the band’s equipment bounced off it. His dark hair was perfectly groomed and the smile he gave Kelly as she let him get close, made her stare at him for a little longer than perhaps she should. His attire was not that of a planned night out and the compact suitcase he towed behind him offered confirmation he was only visiting. Kelly was caught in the web of charisma that came from the care he took in his own appearance and a confidence which flowed from the way he stood fully erect at the bar instead of slouched waving money under the barman’s nose. This met Kelly’s criteria of what she was seeking, rather than the drunken oafs with rugs spewing from beer-stained shirts who considered themselves a gift from the Gods. The no man rule had left the party and Kelly’s chase was on.
Resisting another sly glance at the out of place arrival was proving impossible. Kelly craned her neck just enough to snare him in the corner of her eye. A heavy nudge from Mary soon brought her back into the room. A shot glass filled with a clear liquid was thrust into her hand and the familiar smell of aniseed made Kelly recoil as it assaulted her nostrils. Here she was, caught in the grip of this unclaimed specimen who projected sophistication and class, while she omitted the personality of an uncultured chav about to be goaded by her friends into tipping the shot down her neck.
When did the etiquette of the lady disappear?
Mary and Beth flanked her. Mary nudged the gentleman away, only after making her statement to him with solid eye contact, her head moving without discretion as she surveyed him from top to bottom to top, before smiling and giving him a wink of approval. Inside Kelly rose the foreign feeling of envy at Mary’s brazen approach to men.
‘Wing chicks!’ Mary announced as the trio reached for the sky and chinked glasses.
Kelly tilted her head back and was about to open her mouth to let the liquid pour in when she paused. The gentleman glanced over his shoulder and their eyes held fast. ‘Such a lady!’ she muttered, before pouring the drink down her throat. He returned his attention to the bar and shuffled half a step closer.
‘Now that’s a real man,’ Mary commented, slightly too loud and unable to disguise her admiration for his rear end. The stare was beyond obvious, probably bordering predatory.
‘For once, I agree with you, but I don’t think he looks like the kind of chap who’d want to take a lager swilling, shot downing, raver home to meet mummy,’ Kelly said.
‘Mummy wouldn’t need to find out,’ Beth chirped.
Kelly and Mary turned their heads in unison and glared at Beth. ‘Excuse us,’ Mary hailed.
‘Window shopping is perfectly legal. Besides, it gives me a little extra to think about to . . . reach a certain point with Glen,’ she giggled. It was clear the alcohol was bypassing her filters.
Kelly and Mary stared at Beth.
‘Now we’re married with kids, trying to sneak quickies between feeds and overflowing nappies is about as good as it gets. You should try getting intimate with milk squirting everywhere like an Icelandic geyser. We tried it in the shower once, you should’ve seen it, milk sprayed up the glass and everywhere. It was too funny to carry on. Mind you if those babies are asleep when I get home tonight that could change.’ Beth’s top lip turned up as she began to gyrate her hips.
‘Unless you’re sick and pass out,’ Kelly said.
‘Second thoughts, probably,’ Beth agreed, and the sex-hungry look vanished, only to be replaced by a frown of disappointment.
Still huddled together, Kelly stole another look over her left shoulder. He was still there, chatting animatedly to the barman, Keith, and only shifting his attention to look at his expensive watch with growing impatience.
Who really wore a watch these days?
‘Come on ladies, I’m in need of a rest,’ Beth sighed.
The three wing chicks nudged and dodged their way past an array of people in various states of intoxication, none more so than the young lady fast asleep on a long bench resting against the wall. ‘Think she’s had a few too many,’ Kelly said, tapping Mary’s arm and pointing at Sleeping Beauty.
‘The night is young!’ Mary yelled, raising her arms in the air, and wriggling her hips until they reached the booth where their coats, like a scent, marked their territory.
Kelly plonked herself into the seat and shuffled across, allowing Beth room to slide in beside her. She looked back at the way they had walked from the bar.
The stranger had moved from the bar and now stood next to a pillar that went from roof to ceiling, but not leaning on it. A drink in his left hand and an unyielding grip on the raised handle of his travel case prevented him from moving around the throngs of inebriated punters. Mary looked at him, full of wanton desire.
‘That’s it, I’m going to get him to come over here,’ Mary declared.
‘It looks like he’s waiting for someone,’ Beth said, before taking a gulp of her drink.
‘Well, whoever it is he’s waiting for, I can help him pass the time,’ Mary said, through clenched teeth.
‘What about the “no man” rule for tonight?’ Kelly said, smiling.
‘Really, are we sticking to that? We say that every week and you know I can’t resist the temptation of a good-looking man,’ Mary argued playfully. ‘I’m gonna talk to him.’ Without another word and with the confidence of a matador intimidating the bull, she walked towards him, shuffling as she struggled to pull her skirt down to any kind of respectable length.
It wasn’t hard for Kelly to read the uneasy look on his face as his eyes flicked from side to side as Mary approached him. Despite her reputation, Kelly knew an unknown man in the area would swiftly fall for Mary’s charms. A lively personality complimented by an Amazonian body and sharp facial features rarely failed in rendering most men intoxicated with lust, or arousal, once she approached them. Yet this time, it was as if he was searching for the nearest escape route, only to realise he was anchored to his case, which looked too heavy to gather under his arm and sprint towards the emergency exit with. Mary wasted no time as she began her well-practised spiel. She couldn’t have uttered more than a few syllables before this unfortunate tourist appeared restless in her company.
Kelly felt her stomach tighten as he approached, certain he hadn’t yet noticed her.
‘How does she do it?’ Beth asked, leaning into Kelly’s ear.
‘I really don’t know. One thing’s for sure, he clearly doesn’t know her, or her reputation.’
‘Agreed,’ Beth raised her glass to her mouth and went to take another gulp, only to realise it was empty. She stared blankly into the bottom of the glass.
Kelly wanted to look anywhere other than at this man as he slipped into the booth alongside Mary, who appeared not to want to shuffle too far along, just so he had to sit a little too close to her. But it was only polite to occupy the eyes of someone new upon their introduction.
‘Wing chicks, this is Marcus. Marcus this is Kelly.’
He reached a hand towards Kelly, who welcomed the offering. His skin felt soft to the touch. They were not hand’s that had spent years outside in all weathers slaving on a building site, and the grip was well practiced, as if shaking hands was an everyday, but formal, occurrence for him. ‘Nice to meet you, Marcus,’ were the only words she could muster. Being someone who was confident around strangers, someone who kept their cool when being subjected to complaints whose legitimacy was nothing more than founded on speculation and increased aggression because they were having a bad day, Kelly was stumped. By the time another word was ready to pass her lips, Mary was introducing Beth.
‘And this beautiful, and slightly misguided and underestimated lady is Beth. Could you guess from that little figure she only gave birth to twins three months ago,’ Mary said.
‘My figure looks great when it’s wrapped up like a Christmas present, but you wouldn’t say that if you could see the stretch marks!’ She said, before a slow-motion smile tinged her lips.
‘You look superb considering you gave birth so recently,’ he complimented.
Kelly noticed Beth’s cheeks flush as she said, ‘I’m going to get another drink. Anyone else want one?’
Kelly and Mary both accepted the invitation. Marcus declined. Beth stood up, leaned over the table and looked into Marcus’s eyes and with a deep voice said, ‘what are you drinking buddy?’
Kelly noticed Marcus’s eyes crinkle just a fraction as he tried not to laugh. ‘Well, only as you insist. I do have at least another hour until I can get a taxi. Double Grey Goose and Coke please.’
‘Jesus couldn’t afford that shit in here! This is Penzance, not the bloody Hilton,’ Mary said, wide-eyed.
‘Sorry, I mean a double vodka and Coke please.’
‘That’s more like it,’ Beth said and disappeared to the bar.
‘Is she always that bullish?’ he asked.
‘Only when she’s drunk, otherwise she’s quite timid,’ Kelly explained. ‘Where are you from Marcus?’
‘London. I’ve travelled down for business.’
‘On Easter weekend! Are you nuts?’ Kelly said, her voice raising an octave.
‘Apparently so. I hope to be quick, and on my way back to London by tomorrow evening.’
Mary butted in sharply before Kelly could interrogate him further. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘Somewhere in the country, I believe. A small hotel near the coast.’
‘That’s nice,’ Mary said, angling her naturally ample chest towards him as she began to trace a finger up and down the arm of his suit.
Kelly caught his reluctance to disclose the information of his whereabouts for the near future in case Mary decided to hunt him down and set an ambush. His eyes rocked from side to side, unable to hide the nervous tension that clearly flowed from toe to forehead.
A wobbly Beth returned bearing gifts of various drinks, carefully clasping two in each hand. Despite her unsteady feet, she refused to spill a drop as she placed a glass before each member of the table. Beth plonked down heavily as if the exertion of going to the bar had sapped any remaining stores of energy from her. ‘That’s it, someone else can go to the bar from now on. I’m jush goin’ to sit here and . . .’ Her words trailed away into the oblivion of drunkenness.
‘I think it’s time for Beth to head home,’ Kelly said to Mary. It was easy to see the lack of disappointment on Mary’s face by the refusal to look at Kelly. The leering look she was giving Marcus informed Kelly she had other plans for the night, which did not include her or Beth.
‘Okay,’ Mary eventually replied. ‘Are you going to take her?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
Mary shrugged her shoulders. ‘I suppose we could both walk her home and then head back to mine to continue the party?’
After the busy day at the hotel, Kelly felt a dull ache begin to press against the backs of her eyes. Slipping her fingers beneath her glasses she pressed slightly to release the pressure. It was nothing more than a brief respite from the ache, but it helped.
Mary made a move to stand when Keith, the barman, rushed across the dancefloor and made his way to their table. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he said to Marcus, ‘your taxi has had to cancel due to being involved in some kind of altercation with another customer. I can try to ring around for another one, but it may take a while. Sorry, it’s one of the busiest times of our year.’
Marcus glanced at his watch.
Kelly followed his direction and pressed the screen on her phone. It was almost midnight.
‘Well, I have a solution to your problem, Marcus,’ Mary said, offering him a knowing look as she raised her eyebrows in excitement.
Kelly knew what was coming, but Marcus didn’t look as distraught as she thought he would.
‘Which is?’ he asked.
‘I only live a short walk from here. We can walk Beth home and then you’re free to stay at my flat. Sleep on the sofa, or wherever, and then get a taxi to your secret hideaway in the morning. Besides, if you were to get a taxi now, you’d pay through the nose for it. By the time one comes it’ll be well after midnight and you’ll get stung for double time,’ she reasoned.
Marcus flitted between Mary and Kelly. ‘Are you sure I wouldn’t be imposing?’
‘Not at all,’ Mary replied, a grin almost touched both earlobes.
‘And you promise to get me a taxi first thing in the morning?’
‘Scout’s honour,’ Mary said, raising her right hand.
‘There we have it,’ Marcus declared solemnly, looking at Keith as though the choice had already been made for him.
Keith looked at Mary. ‘You be gentle with him Mary Roberts.’
She flashed him a pearly white smile and shrugged in excitement. ‘Yes, sir, Keith, sir,’ she replied, saluting him.
‘Good luck, pal,’ Keith said, slamming a hand of moral support on his shoulder while grinning at Marcus.
Marcus said nothing as Keith walked away.
‘In that case, if we’re about to leave then I’d better pop to the ladies room. Kelly, are you staying too, or is your dad still coming to pick you up?’
Kelly pondered her options for a moment before replying. ‘I’ll stay at your place. I don’t need to drag Dad out at this hour. I know he never minds, but he’s been busy lately. I’ll just plug my ears.’
‘I’m sleeping on the sofa,’ Marcus declared.
‘Of course,’ Mary said. Mary stood up and slid across Marcus’s lap, no doubt giving him a view of what could be on offer for him later, should he choose against opting for the sofa, Kelly presumed.
Kelly drained what was left in her glass.
Marcus did the same.
Mary walked away from the table. Both watched as she disappeared into the facilities. ‘She wants you tonight, and she never takes no for an answer,’ Kelly warned him outright.
Marcus leaned over the table and looked her directly in the eyes. ‘That may be so, but I want you,’ he said, firmly.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘Well, this is rather awkward,’ Tom said, rubbing his bristled chin thoughtfully and looking anywhere other than at Mel.
‘It certainly makes a mockery of why I’m here, she said. ‘And if that’s the truth, it explains something else my father said before I left his office on Thursday.’
‘Which was?’
‘You may even find your Ross Poldark.’
Tom sighed and palmed his forehead. ‘Jesus, you lot really do believe we’ve only just heard of the wheel down here, don’t you?’
Mel shrugged. ‘The internet’s bloody awful, probably better off using carrier pigeons.’
Tom tried to hold it in, but his laugh was too deep. Mel joined him. The thick air between them had been cut and the stand-off ended with no little white flag.
Was this a truce?
‘Fair point, I’ll give you that one. It just seems that every woman who comes here fantasises about seeing Ross Poldark out on the cliffs, shirtless and effortlessly swinging his scythe as sweat trickles down his 21st century gym-toned body. Or thundering his way on horseback while his wavy locks flail upon the sea breeze. If you really want to be one of those drooling romantics, St Just, where it’s set, is no more than a few miles from here along the coast.’ Tom stood and began to walk away.
‘If you’re going to the bar, would you mind getting me another drink, please?’ she asked, waving her empty wine glass at him.
For the first time since he had met her, Mel began to ease. Not in defeat, only as if the burden of expectation and the tension exercised by Harry’s revelation had lifted. She wobbled on the cusp of relaxed as a smile accompanied the glass. Tom liked it. ‘If you really are looking for your Ross Poldark, then I’ll speak to Aiden Turner next time he stays here. He might be able to introduce you to him.’ Tom couldn’t miss Mel’s jaw as it fell open. If it hadn’t been hinged to her skull, he was sure it would have crashed to the floor.
‘Aiden Turner stays here too?’ A slight squeal seemed to come from deep in her throat.
Tom nodded.
‘So, right at this very moment, as we sit here in this room, you have one of the world’s leading movie stars and a famous jazz singer staying here on the same night. And now you’re telling me that one of the hottest hunks on British television also stays here?’
‘Technically, Harry doesn’t count because we’re just mates,’ he shrugged. ‘So, the way I see it, Alana is the only celebrity here tonight, but otherwise, yeah, I’m saying that.’ Tom thought about sitting back down again, but instead refrained when he remembered their empty glasses. ‘Your father really did send you in blind, didn’t he?’
‘As Stevie Wonder. If what Harry says is true, then I guess it makes sense. Perhaps it was to prevent me misjudging you, and instead learning to understand how you function? How your hotel functions? In a way, showing that you and the business are two separate entities. I understand the hotel is part of you, but it’s not your world. Your family is. Sorry, he can be rather sneaky at times. But he’s also a great man.’
