Chapter 15 - Twist of fate

Racing over to his brother, Andy panicked.
“Drake,” he said while slapping his brother on the cheek. “Drake, can you hear me?”
Chris had woken up to the noise coming from downstairs. Throwing on his red fluffy dressing gown, he stumbled down the flight of wooden stairs, narrowly avoiding the loose nail that Andy had trodden on, and the noise got louder. It seemed like it was coming from the kitchen, but as he wandered through, he wasn’t expecting the sight he saw.
Andy spotted him entering the kitchen. “Grab the phone. Call an ambulance. It’s serious!” Andy’s words pierced through his skin giving him goosebumps. “If you’re not awake enough just get me the phone.”
Chris laboured into the sitting room.
“Every second counts,” cried Andy, a lot more vocal this time.
Violet, Jake and Lauren all leapt out of their beds as if they’d been bitten by something. Hearing the urgency in her brothers voice, Violet raced down as Jake and Lauren opened their door, nearly knocking Chris over as she reached the foot of the stairs.
“Watch it,” Chris said in a half-awake tone. “Nearly sent me flying you did.”
“What’s happened?” squealed Violet as she spun into the kitchen.
“I don’t know,” replied Andy, snatching the phone out of Chris’s hand. Pointing at Drake motionless on the floor, he continued. “You stay with him while I call an ambulance. Looks like he’s taken an overdose but washed it down too.”
Glancing on to the table, Violet saw what Andy had seen, three empty whiskey bottles and a number of empty boxes of medications. She fainted, but luckily for her, Chris caught her before she bashed her head on the worktop.
“Andy, she’s fainted in the shock,” Chris called to his brother-in-law.

By this time, Jake and Lauren were now both dressed and downstairs. They were all a little dishevelled and tired, but alert with everything going on.
“Has an ambulance been called?” Lauren was a little fearful. “Is he alright? What’s up with her?”
The questions came thick and fast.
“I’m calling an ambulance. I think Drake’s mixed alcohol with tablets,” Andy couldn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. “And Violet just fainted at the sight of it all.”
Lauren held tightly to Jake. Chris managed to flick a chair out from under the kitchen table and put Violet onto it. Free from the extra weight, he span to Drake, putting him in the recovery position.
“Ambulance please,” Andy’s voice was shaky.
Chris popped his head up above the table. “I need a couple of pillows, and a bowl of some sort. Jake, you sit with Violet. Lauren, can you make some coffee? I think we’re going to need some,” he said.
Lauren responded. “H-h-h-how strong?” Stuttering her words as if she was being shaken violently from beneath.
“Think it’ll all need to be strong and sweet,” Chris glanced at Andy who nodded before walking off to the sitting room while giving details of Drake’s misfortune. “Yes, make four of them. Set one extra for if she comes back round,” he said while raising a finger aimed at Violet.
Rushing up the stairs, he noticed the loose nail and somehow managed to avoid it.

A few hours had passed since Angela had left. Jackie was a little nervous as she had said she would be back by six-thirty. Was she ok? The last flicker of daylight receded, leaving the bedroom engulfed in purely artificial lighting. Hearing what seemed to be a key in a lock, she let a sigh of relief out. Surely this was Angela with her two girls. Casting a watchful eye over the clock, she noticed it was nearly nine in the evening. It was awfully quiet. Almost as if the two girls were asleep. But then she heard footsteps. They didn’t belong to one, or even three people. It sounded like a herd of elephants rampaging downstairs. Frightened, she closed the bedroom door as quietly as she could, but as the catch clicked into place, there was a silence, followed by a staircase bombardment. Being in the only room with a closed door, she heard a few whispered mutterings outside of it.
“We know there’s someone here,” came a soft, crisp, and deep voice. She had chosen to hide under the bed. “If you don’t come out, we’ll come in.”
The voice sent a piercing ripple through her skin. ‘Not again’ she thought. ‘Surely not again.’
“Ok, have it your way,” came the voice.
Nearly taking the door off its hinges with brute force, a tall and stocky figure sent a few splintered pieces of wood flying. Being underneath the bed she was relieved. None of the shards of wood were going to hit her. Within moments, however, someone had pulled back the covers that were overhanging, and peered under.
“We got one under here, boss,” came a familiar drone.
“Pull her out then,” said the piercing voice.
“There’s no escape luv,” the droning voice added, gazing straight down into her eyes. “And you’re all alone.”
A ripple of sniggers followed. “If you aren’t going to play nice, we’re going to have to use,” the soft voice deepened, pulling back the covers closest to her, grabbing at her legs, “Brute force.”
She was outnumbered, alone, and in a room which by now contained no fewer than eight men. “You again,” she screamed, looking directly at him. “Harry Davis.”

As she pulled up onto her driveway, she remembered she’d left someone inside. Angela had been delayed by her mums insistence on playing games, but she saw that her front door lock system had been breached. Panicking, she knocked on her neighbours door, Mr Jones. “Mr Jones,” she called, as she banged harder. “Mr Jones it’s urgent.”
Unlocking his door, Mr Jones looked out. Seeing the worried expression filling her face, he asked. “Why Angela, dear, whatever is the matter?”
“I need the police to be called. My house has been broken into, and there is a new friend I’ve made in there, alone,” she spoke a bit briskly, fear setting in.
“The phone is right there,” he pointed to the desk alongside his rather magnificent grandfather clock.
“My girls are asleep in the back of the car too, can you go and sit with them for me?” she was more fearful as she expected the worst. Only her neighbours, to her knowledge, and her mum, knew the exact whereabouts of where she lived. Unless someone had followed her when she’d picked up Jackie.
Mr Jones was quickly in the drivers side of the car. He wasn’t leaving it parked on her drive, so he moved it on to his own drive. Stepping back out, Angela popped her head out of the door. “They are on the way. Am I ok to stay here until they arrive?” she asked, adrenaline shaking through her veins.
“You certainly are my dear,” he replied.
At that moment she heard the scream from inside the house. She then knew exactly who one of the intruders were. ‘Oh no, not again’ she thought.

“You,” he barked, pointing at the stocky one who had broken through the doorframe. “Silence her.”
The tall figure dipped his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a roll of silver duct tape. Approaching her before peeling some off, he quoted a phrase he‘d once heard from a comedy novice. “Silence is golden. Duct tape is silver.”
Placing some over her mouth, she tried screaming but it was almost impossible to project any kind of distance.
Harry himself proceeded to put on some clear, white, rubber gloves. “Time, for phase two,” he smirked. Roughly throwing her on the bed, he barked at another one of the guys. “Ok, you hold her arms while I remove her clothes from her legs first. Then we’ll remove the top half, and, as discussed, tie her up.” Removing every item of clothing she had on so she was left naked once again, the group of guys all followed Harry’s lead and put on the rubber gloves. “Now, you there,” he barked at a third guy, the quickest of the rest to get the gloves on. “Gimme that bit of rope. I want this done right.”
Tying her arms and legs in an outstretched star, she was open to any invitation.
“Oh, my manners,” he cooed, in a simple power adjusted moment. “I nearly forgot. Where’s that pipe?”
Jackie shook her head violently.
He replied with sincere sarcasm, “Come now my dear, it won’t hurt. It didn’t the last time.”
Unable to reply, she struggled and struggled against the rope. Noticing it shredding some of her skin, she eventually gave up.
“Ok guys. Now we, sow the seed. She’s not going to be fully unconscious as she is going to enjoy every moment of this, aren’t you dear,” Harry looked Jackie in the eye with a mild hint of remorse.
Having forced her to take two puffs of the pipe by now, she agreed.
“Boss first,” he barked at one of the other guys, who had already removed his trousers. “You should know how this works, It’s been the same system for too long for you to have forgotten!”
Penetrating a little deeper than the last time, he began to forcefully ruin her insides once more.

Finishing their lunch, Anita turned to Emma. “So, he’s your new friend then,” she whispered in her ear. “A bit dashing isn’t he?”
“Well he was working,” Emma whispered back. “But I’ve kinda, hooked him because I liked him.”
Taking the glasses back to the bar, Stuart and Jason had a little conversation of their own. “I was a little pre-occupied last night,” Stuart said. “Was meant to have been working on a journalist apprentice course.”
“Really?” queried Jason. “So how did this come about then?”
“Well, after the press conference for the new film she stars in,” Stuart’s reply was more assured now he’d got a little confidence back. “I was one of the last to leave the room when I got a tap on my shoulder, inviting me to dinner.”
“I know she’s been on the prowl,” Jason chuckled. “So you best not let her down,” he winked.
“He seems nice enough,” said Anita. “Are you sure he’s up to the challenge of being with a celebrity?”
Emma paused for a second. “I think with him having done his journalist apprenticeship for a while he’d be used to what they’d do to get a story of any kind,” she replied.
“Useful knowledge, especially in this business,” admitted Anita.
The guys were soon back.
“Time for us to head off, we’ve got to get to Rome for this evening,” said Anita. “Was lovely to see you again Emma,” piped up Jason.
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Stuart was diplomatic.
“Likewise,” Jason winked again. Stuart understood what he meant.
Emma was the last to speak. “You have my number,” she said, before using her eyes to indicate Stuart. “Call me when you can, I’ll get back to you or at least have this one take care of things.”
Anita and Jason bid farewell and headed off with their bodyguards to where their car was parked.
“Got time for another?” enquired Steve, as the two of them stood together at the bar. Emma stole a glance at Jack, who nodded.
“Yeah, we got time,” she replied. Leaning over the counter, she whispered, “I could fill you in a little about this chap with me.” Turning back towards Stuart, she said, “I’ll bring these over, you go sit with Jack.”
Stuart looked at the table of four. “There’s not enough space, I don’t think,” he replied. “Unless I move that table we were sat on.”
Walking back to where they had been seated, he tried to lift the table but it was heavier than he had envisaged. Jack spotted this, and, excusing himself from his colleagues, he ambled over.
“Need a hand?” Jack was frequently helpful. “It looks like a two person job. Where you trying to move this to?”
Stuart was panting a little. “Just over to your table. Emma wants us to sit with you,” he gasped for air between words.
“All in the name of service,” Jack replied, taking most of the weight as they shifted the table over so they could all be seated together. “I’m sure she’s unearthed a gem in you,” he added, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“So, where would you like to start,” Keith asked.
“Ideally in the bathroom,” Grace replied. “Sitting on park benches has its drawbacks.”
Grace took off her overcoat, which had picked up a little dirt and debris over a number of weeks. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get this fully clean,” she added. “I might have to just get a new one.”
“We’ll have to see what we can do after eleven tomorrow then. I might be able to help you,” Keith answered.
He took her coat and hung it over the back of the kitchen chair. It was a relatively narrow space, but he’d managed to tuck a four seater patio table into the dining room end of the kitchen. At the back of the house, the kitchen sink sat directly below the bathroom, but there was a break in the counters as there was a side door to the staircase.
“Follow me,” he said. “I’ll show you the room you can call your own, at least for tonight, and the bathroom too. If you like it, I’m sure we can come to some agreement for you to stay on longer, or whenever you are in town.”
Grace was elegant with her reply. “That sounds lovely, but what if you have company when we run into each other?”
“Lets get through tonight and tomorrow first, and we’ll see where we stand,” he smiled affectionately.
They nipped up the stairs, and although the bathroom was a little more compact than the other places she had been staying in, it had a feeling of belonging. The bedroom she was also shown had a double bed in, for it had almost the same sizing as the master bedroom, a chest of drawers with a television on top, a wardrobe built in to a slightly set back side wall, and a little desk space. He had been house sharing with a couple of college friends, but they had decided to move on to have their own place.
“This is perfect,” Grace felt all warm inside. “It’s so welcoming. In a way it reminds me of my parents spare room that they rent out.”
Keith’s smile was infectious. “I do like to help where I can. I’ll leave you be so you can freshen yourself up. I’ll either be in the kitchen or in the lounge at my computer.”
“Ok, I’ll see you there in a while,” she answered. “It’ll do me some good I bet.”
Leaving her to prepare herself, Keith went back downstairs and made a cup of tea. He took a shine to her, he knew that, he just wasn’t quite sure how to actually approach saying anything. Perched up on his computer chair, he booted up his machine and the little buzz of the fan spinning away inside the base unit started humming its merry tune.

A little while later, refreshed and rejuvenated, Grace glided seamlessly down the stairs. Seeing that he wasn’t in the kitchen, she silently made her way through to the lounge. He was typing something on the screen, in a word processor, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was. Inching closer, she noticed a few words.
Would you like to go on a date with me?
Making him jump as he was oblivious to her presence, she said, “Why not. It could be fun.”
Embarrassed, he hurriedly closed that particular window down and turned around. “No need to be nervous,” she noticed his cheeks had gone red. “Or shy.”
Taking his hand in hers, she added, “I’m pleasantly surprised, but also feeling something inside. It feels right, but should we act on this?”
He managed to get a couple of words out. “It may help tomorrow,” he kept it brief and direct. Here he was, in the presence of a pretty young woman who had more musical talent than he did, and she was accepting his rather insecure approach to asking her out, which had taken them both by surprise.

It was five minutes to five. Gary was stood, anxiously waiting for John to arrive. A few last minute stragglers heading off to the pub around the corner from the church for the football match bypassed him, laughing and joking as they went. Other than that, it was eerily silent. Lighting up a cigarette, he barely had time to take two pulls when a red car pulled up. In the drivers seat, sat John, winding down his window. “You’ve made it then,” he laughed. “For a moment I thought you weren’t going to turn up.”
As they got out the car, John introduced each one in turn. Almost like it had been rehearsed. Out of the passenger side jumped a six foot three, thick brown hair of neck length, green eyed lad, who, at twenty six years old, was the eldest of the quartet. “This one is Eric. He’s the bass guitarist,” said John.
The rear passenger door opened next, and the second lad popped his head out. A ginger haired twenty four year old, he was a little stockier of build than the Eric, and he had his hair long and wavy. He was six foot one when he wasn’t slouched. “And this would be Henry,” John continued. “He’s the drummer. Sure mean with a set of sticks in his hands.”
Out of the drivers side rear door, stepped a rather skinny fellow, twenty five years old, blonde hair, a hint of a trimmed goatee, and rich, brown eyes. This skinny lad was six foot six in height, towering above everyone else. “This is the lead guitarist, Benny,” John had deliberately planned the guys were to get out first. “He is almost as good as the all time greats.”
The last person to step out of the car, other than John himself, was a taller than average woman at five foot ten. At twenty three, she was the youngest from the group, but she was the most vocal, quite literally. She had jet black hair, just below her shoulders in length. Like Gary, she wore glasses, but she had a gorgeous smile which beamed at him. She recognised him from the encounter earlier in the day, but he had been blown away, so he was rather distracted. “And this young lady, is Kerry,” John finished up with a swift introduction to the band. “This young man is Gary. He’s going to hopefully help us record you guys.”
A quick handshake followed with all the members as John went to open the boot.
“Right kids, get your kit out and I’ll open the door,” John had a senior authority about the way he occasionally spoke to them, in order to get anywhere they needed a little guidance and steady leadership. Gary’s laptop was in his bag that was slung across his shoulders. “You wait here for them to get in, close the door and make sure it’s locked. They’ll know where to go, so you can follow them up,” John handed a little responsibility to him. The trio of guys brought in the equipment, and Kerry took Gary’s hand. “You didn’t call,” she mused, a little downhearted. “But you’re here, so that’s better than nothing.”
“I am indeed,” Gary replied. “I had a little trouble which I had to sort out first. Someone had broken into my place while I was out meeting John.”
“Oh no!” exclaimed Kerry. “Did they take anything?”
Gary’s face dropped a little. “Only my most precious framed picture of me and my son. Haven’t seen him in five years, but that was a memorable moment.”
Kerry felt a wave of sympathy. “Throw yourself into this, we can chat after,” she advised. “And who knows what may happen,” she added with a raised eyebrow.

Chapter 14 - An unexpected find

As they approached the country pub, Stuart, Emma, and the quartet of bodyguards, noticed there were a handful of people inside through the cottage style window in front of them. Not wanting them to see her wearing her trainers, they stopped before the entrance to give her a chance to change her footwear again. Again she was leaning on Stuart for support, but the pebbled pathway had ended and she was able to put her heels back on again.

In front of them stood a stone building. A thatched roof sat above a wooden beam, as a period feature of what was once a cottage. An oak door had a little frosted glass square three-quarters of the way up, and a spherical door handle. Jack opened the door allowing them to pass through. Stuart and Emma approached the bar area, while Jack and the others went to organise two tables of four. One would be for the four of them to keep a relatively close watch on events, the other, a little further away, was to be where Emma would be sitting.

“What can I get for you?” asked Steve, the star specialist barman. He spun a few bottles in his hand while Emma replied, “Just a martini for me.”
“And for you sir,” Steve looked Stuart up and down. “You’re not a celebrity, are you?”
“No, I’m not, but I am here at the request of Miss Howard here,” Stuart pointed to Emma. “I’ll just have a scotch on the rocks.”
“A whiskey man, you have good taste,” Steve had the drinks prepared within moments. “And whom may I ask are you awaiting, Miss Howard?”
“Just a close personal friend of mine who also happens to be a star in their own making,” she replied. “I’m not sure if you’ll have heard of her yet, but she’s meeting me here in approximately fifteen minutes.”
“These are on the house,” Steve winked at them. “My shout.”
Steve was a forty-five year old, bleach blonde haired, pot-bellied landlord. He lived and breathed the pub lifestyle, and had been located here for around six years now. Old fashioned by nature, he was slicker than the young upstarts who had tried to impress him with their tricks, and had grown to know a number of famous names gracing his business, which was that far off the beaten track, it would be nearly impossible to find for the general public. So far in fact, that not even journalists had stumbled upon it in their quest for every word or action that the celebrities had been saying or doing. It was a homely retreat, and a much needed breather when the stars had been overworked by press conferences or award ceremonies or even just a standard night out in the more expensive VIP treated clubs.
“Lets go take our seats,” Emma led the way. “Look, there’s a table right there.” She pointed to a four seater, as the two seater tables were already taken and a host of other stars were also in attendance. Just like Emma, they all had personal minders and bodyguards who were grouped in conversation.

As they pulled out their chairs to sit down, the door opened wide. All prior conversations halted abruptly, as a glimmering metallic blue frock dazzled in the rays of light entered, being worn by a style icon in the fashion industry. Anita had arrived, sporting her latest creation, and Emma realised who it was.
“Anita, my darling,” she called across the silent room. “How lovely it is to see you again!”
Anita was just a couple of years older than Emma. Apart from their stylists, they could have been twin sisters, they looked that similar. The only glowing difference was Anita’s longer legs which gave her frame extra elevation. Emma’s heels made up the difference because she preferred to wear the bigger variety.
“Well hello again Emma,” Anita called back. “It’s ok people, as you were,” Anita spoke to the rest of the room, before conversations started back up again. Walking around to the table with them, Anita was followed by her long term partner Jason.
“You remember Jason, don’t you Emma?” asked Anita, with a grin.
“I sure do,” Emma responded. “He hasn’t changed much since I last saw him.”
“Hello Emma,” Jason’s slightly high-pitched voice reverberated off Anita’s dress. “It’s a pleasure as always.”
“Always a pleasure Jason,” Emma’s face broke into a wide grin.
“I don’t believe I know this one,” Anita was a little uncertain, looking at the sharply dressed Stuart.
Answering in a definite tone, he reacted with assurance. “I’m Stuart. I’ve been invited along by Emma.” Taking Anita’s hand in his, he placed a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand before continuing, “It is an honour to meet you.”
Jason scanned Emma for a reaction. “Known him long?” his eyes suggested.
“Oh Jason, I’ve only met the guy last night, give me a break,” Emma chuckled. “He was actually working then he found himself sharing a dinner and night with me.”
“Really?” Anita was taken aback. “You’ve changed a bit then by the sounds of things,” she said in shock, furrowing her brow.
Emma hadn’t anticipated that. “Yes really. And no, I haven’t changed that much,” she sighed. This was going to be a little bit harder than she anticipated. Before anything else could be said, Steve popped up along side them and asked, “Hello Anita. What would you like to drink?”
“Martini for me,” she replied, “and just a coke for him. He’s on driving duty today.”
“Surely one wouldn’t hurt,” Jason frowned. “Hasn’t done before.”
Stuart sensed there was a little extra tension and found a voice. “Right, rather than spoil a perfectly good lunchtime, how about we look at the menus and see what’s available. How long do we have for conversation? I’m sure there will be time for you to get to know me and vice versa.”
Stuart pulled out a chair for Emma, Jason followed suit for Anita. The guys took their seats and the tension eased.

Ducking into the shop, Gary scuttled out the back towards the indoor stairwell. Taking care not to disturb any of the boxes of products, he acknowledged Sachin with a cheerful wave, before climbing up to his flat. When he got there though, he was in for a nasty surprise. His previously tidy flat was a mess. Paper was everywhere, and a number of clean and recently pressed clothes were strewn about the couch and floor. Unsure as to what exactly had gone on, he looked around for his precious few personal items that he had recently purchased. His laptop, was still there, as was his keyboard and guitar. He was really bemused. It hadn’t been left that way, and he had barely been out for little under an hour. Gathering his clothes up, he realised what it was that had been taken. A picture he had kept hidden inside a drawer that was hanging open, had disappeared. Knowing that it was his most prized possession, he pulled out his phone from his pocket, and dialled the emergency number.
“Police please,” he shook a little as he asked the operator. When connected the officer at the other end of the line replied, “Police service. How can we help?”
“I’d like to report a theft,” Gary was nervous. “I’ve had a small picture of me and my son taken from inside my flat.”
“Ok, what time would this have been likely to have occurred?” the officer fired the question robotically.
“Sometime in the last hour. I left my flat tidy around eleven, and met up with someone about eleven-thirty at the nearby Starbucks coffee place,” Gary’s words were a little frustrated.
The officer was duly concerned. “We’ve collared a group of youths, we’ll interrogate them as they are all fugitives at large, wanted for a variety of petty incidents,” regardless of confidentiality, the officer believed it could be a linked situation. “We could send someone round in a few hours as we’re stretched at the moment.”
“A few hours?” Gary repeated. “I’m likely to be elsewhere.”
Handing over his mobile number so he could be contacted while on the move if necessary, or at least traced, he hung up.

Having turned off her alarm, Angela stumbled into the bathroom. It was a little before three in the afternoon, and she had her girls to go and pick up from her mums. Within a few minutes she at least looked reasonable. Popping her head into the spare room where Jackie was, Angela thought she was fast asleep and thought it would be best to at least leave a note to say what she was doing.
‘Make yourself at home. Help yourself to food and drink if you want, I’m just picking up my girls. Should be back before six-thirty this evening.’
Hanging the note on the door handle, she closed the door behind her quietly, making her way down the stairs to undo all the locks on the front door.

Jackie heard the door open and then close again. Hearing the key in the lock she felt a touch safer, and quickly found the note that had been left for her. Closely inspecting her fresh wound, she changed the tissue on it and flushed the bloodstained piece away. It was still seeping a little with trickles of blood, but it wasn’t anywhere near to as bad as what had been happening. She knew that she would have to eventually go and see someone about it, but didn’t know who or where at the present time, given that she was locked in a strangers house. Being in unfamiliar situations made Jackie really nervous, but she wasn’t as bad having been treated respectfully by her hostess.

Making her way down the carpeted staircase, Jackie had a little head rush. She hadn’t eaten for a couple of days since the traumatic incident had taken place. Popping her head into the fridge she noticed it was relatively bare. Half a pint of milk was sat in the doorway, and a small slab of cheese was sat on the top shelf alongside some butter. Thinking there wasn’t enough there for her to help herself to, she quickly closed the door and decided to look in the cupboard instead. There were a couple of tins of beans, a sachet of soup, a variety of sauces and spices, and some bread. Certainly not a lot in the way of food, that was all on the middle shelf. She felt guilty for wanting to eat so she decided against it.

Drake was pacing up and down. Violet, Lauren and Jake were huddled on the settee. “All I want is my Jackie back,” Drake sounded distraught. “I really hope they find her.”
“We have to trust what these other guys are doing,” Violet was stern. As the oldest of the group she had to try and remain calm during her brother’s breakdown. At that minute Jake heard a knock that was so silent it was barely audible. Jumping up from the settee, he ran to check that it wasn’t a passing kid being a little prankster. As he got to the door there was a slightly louder knock. Opening the door he found a dark haired plump woman. “Hello,” she said. “Is Violet or Drake about?”
She didn’t recognise him, but presumed that he must know of the two as he was in their house. Jake called through to the sitting room, “Violet, someone’s at the door for you.”
“Who is it?” Violet’s voice called back.
The woman hushed Jake and stepped inside. “It’s only me,” she said. “Andy’s told me what’s happened.”
Jake closed the door and pointed towards the sound. “They are through there,” he was a little sceptical, but this woman knew the names of the siblings so he assumed she was a relative. She led him back into the room with Drake still pacing and Violet and Lauren in a little conversation of their own.
“Mum!” cried Drake.
“You’ve heard about Jackie’s disappearance?” Violet quizzed.
“Yes I have. Andy phoned me to let me know that he along with a couple of others had gone to the police station to report her missing,” Patricia responded. “I’ve left your father at home in case there is any more news.”
Not looking her age, Patricia was a sprightly sixty-four year old, not a greying hair in sight. Rather large around the waistline, she hadn’t been able to remove the excess that had built up after giving birth, and that was a fair while ago since Drake had been born.
“Any introductions,” she pointed to Lauren and Jake, who were now sat together holding hands.
Violet answered, “Ah yes. You might remember Jake, he’s Neville’s nephew.”
Her mother cut her off, “Oh my, what a handsome young fellow he’s turned out to be. It’s been a while since I was last down here. And how about the young lady?”
“I’m Lauren,” the girl holding Jake’s hand replied. “I’m new to this village. I work with Simon in the post office. Would anyone like a drink?”
“A shot of whiskey for me,” Drake finally spoke, still pacing. “I need something to calm me down.”
“Just a white tea, no sugar for me dear,” Patricia said.
“I’ll have a coffee, white, two sugars,” Violet replied.
Jake got up with Lauren. “I’ll come and help you,” he said.
As they went to the kitchen, Patricia turned to Drake and said, “Son, it’s time to sit down. I am aware that you are missing her and frustrated that you can’t do anything to help.”
Drake was tense. “I don’t want to sit down. I don’t know if I’ll be able to rest while she’s not here.”
“Drake, you shall do as you are told or I shall call your father over,” Patricia’s tones were warning. Her husband, and the father of the trio, had been involved in the military for almost fifty years before his retirement two years previous. He had gathered an immense amount of knowledge, and Drake had been on the receiving end of a couple of army style punishments.
Finally relenting, Drake perched upon one of the chairs.

At that moment, the group returned. Andy, Simon, Derek and Chris all entered the house while Neville parked up. Hearing the sounds of the kettle Derek popped his head in the kitchen. “Hey Lauren, can we have five strong black coffees. All with no sugar, just bring the tub in with a couple of spoons so people can add their own.” he asked.
“They’re all in the sitting room,” she replied. Jake pulled out another five cups from the cupboard and proceeded to set the cups up ready.
Andy led the way into the sitting room. “Hello mum,” he said. “Glad you could make it.”
“Hey Pat,” Simon’s tones bounced off all the walls.
“Hello Derek, Simon, Chris.” Patricia acknowledged them in age order. “And of course, hello Andy. Where’s Neville?” she added enquiringly.
“Just parking up,” Chris replied.
“So, what’s the score?” she continued to quiz the guys.
“Well, we gave them as much info as we had,” Derek said. “And the case is being dealt with by my former school pal, Sergeant Manning.”
Patricia thought for a moment. “Wasn’t he the one that seemed to be more trouble than he was worth before he chose that career?”
Derek chuckled. “He sure was a handful.”
Jake brought in the first supply of drinks as Neville entered.
“Hello Pat,” Neville approached the crowd that had formed. “I see you have Drake seated at last.”
“I want to find her!” Drake was impatient.
“We all do,” Derek was stern and forceful. Not something that was usual for him and all mini conversation had stopped. “None of us want her to be hurt. But there’s a procedure. If we were to locate him, you’d probably do time.” he continued, looking straight at Drake. Knowing he was right, Drake had no reply. Knocking back his whiskey, he got up to go get another, as silence filled the room.

Waiting until everyone was asleep, Drake patiently lay awake in his room. Chris and Violet were in one room, Andy was in another, and in the final room were Jake and Lauren. Patricia, Derek, Simon and Neville had all parted ways moments before the others had come up to bed. The lights seemed to take forever to go out, for he was just clock watching. He knew what he intended to do, but whether he would go through with it was another matter.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the last light eventually went out. It was only two in the morning, and there was barely any sounds. All doors had been closed, and the only sound he could hear was that of Andy’s snoring. Creeping as quietly as he could down the stairs, he went to the kitchen. Opening the alcohol cupboard, he searched for the whiskey he’d been drinking and found half a bottle there. Rifling through the rest of the bottles, he located a hidden stash of three more bottles. Laying them all out on the table in front of him, he opened the half bottle and started drinking.
After he’d finished that bottle, he heard a door open. Motionless on his chair, he waited. A moment had passed and the sound of a flushed toilet echoed inside this house. Click. The bedroom door had closed. Sighing with relief he continued to drink his way through the first of the unopened bottles. Halfway through the second bottle, he decided to look through the cupboard for whatever pills he could find. Paracetomol, Ibuprofen, Cocodamol. He found a number of unopened boxes, and decided, in his alcoholically warped mind, to take as many as he could. He finished the second full bottle of whiskey and started to develop a headache. Without warning, he passed out on the kitchen worktop, before slumping to the floor.

Light began to filter through the windows at the back of the house. Jake was the first to awake. Nudging Lauren, he giggled, “Morning babe.”
“Morning,” she replied, in a sleepy voice.
“Want a coffee?” he asked.
“Not yet, I need a little more sleep,” she groggily responded, before rolling over and pulling him closer. Accepting that sleep would be ideal, he hugged her tightly and drifted back off himself.

Andy was the next to awaken, even without the light filtering through his window as brightly. A quick shower later he was dressed for the days events. Trying to be quiet whilst going down the stairs, he trod on a nail which had come loose. “Ow,” he whispered to himself. “That’s painful.”
Rubbing his sleepy eyes as he headed for the kitchen to find a plaster, he awoke fully with a shock. In front of the medical cupboard was a slumped body, and on the table were three empty and one full whiskey bottle. That wasn’t the only thing he noticed, he also spotted a mixed variety of painkiller packets, all gone, alongside. The pain in his foot was insignificant, as he hobbled around the table to see who it was. It was Drake.

Chapter 13 - Criminal Capture

The medication Angela had been prescribed a few months prior had been working initially, but it was unlikely to maintain that. Yes she had made friends with Jackie, someone else in the same situation, constantly replaying the devastating effects of what she had gone through, but with Jackie having suffered at the hands of the same person too, Angela was now on edge. This one man had now ruined at least two women’s livelihoods, and also presented one of them with a child who, although she was loved and well looked after, would have to be told the truth one day.

Jackie wasn’t familiar with her new surroundings, so instead of going for her routine morning jog, she decided to at least try a few sit ups instead. Only having got through a few, she heard Angela scream out herself. “Why Harry, why are you such a monster!” Racing through to the other bedroom, she saw Angela sitting upright, eyes still closed, but with a blade of a razor in her hand. It was an instinctive reaction but she leapt over the bed with an athletic spring, and by knocking the razor blade out of Angela’s hands, the eyes opened.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?” cried Angela. “You have no reason to be in here, this is my space.”
Jackie sternly replied, “You were reliving your own trauma with Harry. I think I stirred it up with my situation, and for that I can only be sorry.”
“Oh no,” said Angela. “I wasn’t up to anything was I?”
Jackie motioned to the razor blade on the floor. “You could have been, had I not heard you. I saw you sat upright, but still asleep, with this in your hand and the flesh on your arm was showing.”
Angela looked slightly relieved. “I haven’t cut in a little while, but yes, it may be a jolt in terms of my memory from the trauma you suffered. Having both suffered a similar circumstance with the same person, it was likely to trigger something in me even though I thought I would be able to cope with it,” Angela mentioned, crestfallen.
“It’s fine,” said Jackie. “Everyone has their own ways of handling traumas. Yours just happens to be punishing yourself physically. While that might not be an ideal way of coping, it’s the way you see yourself.”
Angela looked at the blade laying on the floor again. It was a stainless steel blade, with a slightly shinier edge to show where the sharper edge was. Easy to notice on the hard wooden flooring of the bedroom, as the colour difference was distinguishable. Upon a little bedside cabinet in the corner closest to this piece of equipment, there stood a framed picture of Angela’s two girls. Carrie, the elder of the two, had a flowery patterned turquoise dress on, and Emily, was in a pair of white trousers and a green buttoned v-neck t-shirt. They were very similar in facial features, wide eyes, slender nose, thin mouth. Jackie could tell they were very much Angela’s girls.
“Perhaps we should both try resting again,” suggested Angela as she yawned a little. “We have both been through similar events, and could do with a recharge if possible.”
Jackie agreed. “If I can sleep it would be useful,” she replied. “It’s not easy, but then you already know that part of it.”
“Tell you what,” Angela moved off the bed. “I’ll give you one of my tablets. I shouldn’t really without a doctors permission or if you are allergic to anything, but I think it might help.” Making their way back downstairs to the kitchen, Angela rifled through her medication cupboard. “A-ha,” she said, as she found a small white box with a blue triangle on the front. “Here we are.”
Pulling two glasses from a cabinet above the toaster she had on top of a side unit in the kitchen, Angela filled them halfway with a splash of water from the cold tap.
“It’s always better to have medication with cold water,” she added.
Jackie agreed. “Indeed it is. It’s a good job I’m not allergic to anything.”
A moments silence passed as they both popped the pill into their mouths and swallowed whole with a swig of water.
“Right,” said Jackie. “I think it’s time we both went back to bed.”
With that, they headed off back up the stairs and to their respective bedrooms. Within a few moments, they were both fast asleep.

Across in the heart of the older part of the town, having just finished supping at his coffee while talking to John, Gary’s mobile began to ring. Reaching his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a slightly worn down but still useable iPhone. He read the screen and a number he didn’t recognise flashed up. Silencing the tune he‘d used as a ringing tone, he popped the phone on the table.
“Not going to answer that?” John pointed to the phone.
“I don’t answer numbers I don’t recognise usually,” Gary replied. “Anyway, where were we?”
“Straight down to business, I like that attitude,” John was positive in his response. “We were talking about a band that I do sound work for, but looking to get them recorded, and I was after your help.”
“That’s right,” said Gary. “Where would I need to be and at what time?”
“There‘s a green door at the side of the church,” John started. “You’ll need to meet me outside there at about five this afternoon otherwise you won’t get in.”
Gary picked up his phone and found his reminders. Setting an alarm for four-thirty he placed a note alongside 1700 hours, ‘Green door by church. Meet John.’
“That’s sorted. It’ll give me half an hour to get myself ready and there. It doesn’t take me more than a few minutes, and I’m guessing slacks would be appropriate too?” he asked, indicating John’s personal attire.
“Yeah, there’s no point dressing smart for these occasions,” John answered. “You don’t want to get your best suit ruined by a few beers occasionally spilt.”
“I’ll see you at five then,” Gary stood up as he spoke. “I have work to get back to for now, on my latest composition.”
That said, he bid John a good day and stepped out into the sunshine that was shining rather brightly now the clouds had sloped off to the west, leaving a bright blue sky punctured by a handful of light fluffy clouds. He also noted that the town was a fair bit busier by now, a mixture of slow moving elderly people with walking sticks, young parents carting pushchairs around with toddlers ranging from one to five years old, teenagers who’s priority was mischief, and builders in their high visibility jackets looking to grab a spot of lunch. It was midday, so it wasn’t really a surprise, but little did he realise he was being watched. Striding purposefully back to the shop, he found his eyes cast upon the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. As she glanced up, he looked away, but they had imparted eye contact. She got up and walked over to him, sliding a slip of paper in his hand which had her name and number on it. Making eye contact once more before heading off in different directions, she mouthed to him, “Call me.”

The limousine came to a stop. Stuart and Emma heard a door open and then close again, before seconds later, his side door was opened.
“Thank you Jack,” he showed his appreciation as he stepped out into the lunchtime sun. Emma was less appreciative, as much as Jack was her bodyguard, it was his duty to make sure she was kept safe from anyone trying to grab or grope her.
“We are to rendezvous at a little country pub less than two minutes walk away,” Jack explained. “The limo will not fit down there, so we do have to proceed on foot.”
Taking stock of the pebbled pathway, Emma was a little dismayed. “How am I supposed to walk on that?”
Stuart was a little excitable in his reply. “I think you’ll have to wear trainers to get down there. I’ll carry your shoes so you can put them on when we get to a better piece of pathway.”
“That sounds like a plan,” she confirmed. “At least my dress isn’t ankle length, and will not get ruined along the way.”
Jack opened the boot of the limo. “Which bag are they in?” he asked, as apart from the suitcase of Stuarts, the rest of the stuff was Emma’s.
“I think they are in the little white sports bag,” she was a little uncertain, as she hadn’t worn them for a few days with recent travels. Watching him unzip the bag, she realised that she was wrong. That was her extended make-up kit. “Oh, that’s not it,” she remembered. “They would be in the blue handbag at the back.” She pointed towards the Versace branded handbag that was rather large in size, for her frame. Leaning on Stuart as she changed first one shoe, then the other, she soon dropped a few inches in height.
“Heels,” he chuckled, picking them up. “Always give a false impression of height.”
Punctured with occasional jokes from Stuart, and giggles from Emma, the trio made their way down towards the pub, accompanied by Jack’s trio of colleagues, two flanking them, one at the front. Jack made sure he had everyone in front of him for a specific reason. If anything was to happen, he would be either the first to see it, or the first to feel it. He was rightfully proud to be a personal bodyguard and protector of Emma, as they had been paired together two years ago when her first big break had come. Forging a friendship that was bound to grow ever stronger, they had decided against pursuing a relationship in case things went wrong and she lost him.

John had watched Gary head back off towards the shop. He had seen what had taken place, only he wasn’t aware of the contents on the paper that she’d given him. What he did know, however, that the girl who had given him the small piece of paper, was one of the band he had been working for. Caught in two minds as to whether or not to tell Gary about this, he was brought back to reality with an ear piercing scream. Spinning on the spot, he saw a hooded figure, face hidden by a balaclava, running in his direction, carrying a purse in his hands. Being a well respected member of the town, instincts took over as he rugby tackled the offender to the floor, pinning them down. Rolling them over so they lay on their front, he used a little in the way of excessive force to drag their hands behind their back.
“You’re not getting away this time,” he growled. The same person had been behind a number of thefts recently, always in the same hooded jumper, just across various locations of the town that made them rather challenging to follow. As they waited for the police van to arrive, he forcibly removed the balaclava to unmask the purse thief. A slightly flattened curly mop of ginger locks were all he could see, as the person remained face down.

“What are you doing to her?” a rough voice approached him shouting. “Can’t you see you’re hurting her.”
John turned his head to see a few youths menacingly closing in. A couple of them were wielding planks of wood, and another was carrying a baseball bat. “So it’s a girl I have pinned down then,” he growled in return. “Shouldn’t go thieving, should she?”
Either he was extremely confident, or he was running on adrenaline of apprehending the mystery robber. It didn’t matter too much as the rough voice continued on. “Get off, or we use force to remove you.”
At that moment, John heard the sound of wheels from his left, coming up the slope, and also from behind him. “I wouldn’t be so certain of your actions,” his voice was still deep and unthreatened.
“What can you do about it,” the rough voice was rather annoyed. “There’s eight of us, plus her, and just one of you.”
The vehicles came to a stop, and, quietly opening the doors of the car behind them, a quartet of coppers stepped out and took aim. A few more plain clothed officers appeared from the sparklingly clean white van parked just out of sight.
“I’m gonna count to three. If you don’t move, you’re gonna get what’s coming to you,” The rough voiced thug wasn’t giving an inch. Neither was John as he replied just as gravelly, “Count to three, if you really must.”
“One,” cried the youth, as they circled the situation, the three with weapons stood between the cops taking aim and John. The coppers flicked their safety catches off, ready to shoot to maim.
“Two!” The rough voice had encouraged local businesses to cease trading as passers by looked on. But before he could finish the count, there were four shots, all catching the visible youths in the back of the legs. The plain clothes officers whipped out their own pistols and the inspector led the way closer.
“Drop your weapons,” Inspector Jeffries said sternly. “We’ve got you surrounded more than you have him,” he continued, indicating John in the centre of the circle.
The youths panicked, and the three holding weapons dropped them to the floor. They tried to run but having been hit they found themselves unable to. The other youths who hadn’t been hit tried to barge their way through the numerous officers who had also appeared on the scene, but found that they were blocked and unable to. Outnumbered, the youths were all apprehended and cuffed.
“Right you lot,” the inspector said as three vans were brought up. “Three to a van.”
“Yes guv,” replied one of the sergeants. “I’ll take these three, as we’ll need a doctor to patch up their wounds.”
Another sergeant moved forwards. “I’ll take this one,” he indicated the ringleader, before roughly bundling him to the back of his van. “And these other two.”
“You two,” said the inspector indicating the final two who were rather meek upon interrogation, “Can sit in this van.”
“Guv, do you want me to take this one back in the car?” asked a third sergeant.
“Certainly, Manning. I’ll join you, as this one we have been after for a little while,” Jeffries replied. There would be a time and a place for everything else, but John waited patiently until the cuffs were on before he clambered off.
“Thanks guys,” John was aware of their timely intervention. “I thought I might have had a little more of an issue on my hands if you hadn’t shown up.”
Jeffries answered, “No more than you deserve. I’m surprised you never joined up with us, John. Anyway, we have a few questions to be asking of these troublemakers, so we best be off.”
The inspector sat in the passenger seat as the sergeant bundled the purse thief into the back of the car. Making their way across the pedestrianised road, they all followed single file, the car leading the three vans back to the station.

Catching his breath back, he approached the lady who’s purse had been snatched from her hands. “Here you go, my dear,” he said in between gulps of air.
“How can I ever thank you,” she replied. “You saved me losing my fiancé’s stag weekend fund, which would have been impossible to replace within a few hours.”
“No need to thank me,” he humbly responded. “All in the preferred nature of humanity.”
“Here,” she said as she opened up her purse. “He can do without this.” Placing a note into his pocket, she added, “I would feel guilty for not showing my appreciation at your wonderful display of tactfulness, even when they had you surrounded.”
John was blushing slightly. “I was once taught a lesson within a few words,” he responded with a hint of shyness. “Help others when required, and you will be more respected by others. When the time comes that you need help, you will get the support you have earned the right to have.”
“An admirable sentiment indeed,” she approved greatly. “Perhaps you would like to join me for a spot of lunch. My treat.”
John thought hard for a moment. “As much as I would be delighted to accept your offer, I am afraid I have to turn it down as I already have plans,” he fumbled his words a little. “I’m glad to have been able to help though, but I must be on my way for I have little time for further disruptions to my day.”
“I understand,” she was slightly disappointed. “Once again, thank you.”
Parting with a little kiss on his cheek, they headed in opposite directions.

A few hours had passed since they had both gone to bed. Jackie was the first of the two to awaken, and, not being overly familiar with her surroundings, she started to slightly panic. Yes she was in a nice warm single bed, in a room that was set up to be a guest room to possibly bring extra revenue for her hostess, Angela, but nothing looked familiar. Looking down on the floor, she found her ruined pink frock, and begun to recall the horrific events. Shaking at the very thought of what had happened, she tried to focus on something else. It was powerfully penetrating though, and, recalling what was on Angela’s floor, she tiptoed quietly across to the other bedroom that was in use. Seeing what she wanted to see, Jackie effortlessly made her way across and picked up the blade. Quickly escaping the confines of Angela’s room before she stirred, Jackie hid back in her room, under the covers. The emotional baggage was too strong for her, and she looked at her lower left arm. Gliding the blade across, she winced at the sudden burst of pain, there was no sign at first that she’d made any inroads. Repeating the process, she went a little harder. A red mark began to appear. She felt a little better as she felt a tiny release. But she knew she would have to continue a while longer in order to release any significant emotional ties to the incident. A few times later of scratching the surface of her skin, she finally noticed a trickle of blood seeping through. Realising she was using the blunt side of the blade, she turned it over and pierced the skin more thoroughly. Not wishing to leave traces of her blood on the bedcovers, she rushed into the bathroom and held her arm over the sink. It would be easier, she suspected, to rinse the blood down the drain. Running the sharp edge of the blade over the open wound again, going a little deeper, the blood began to ooze more venomously. The deeper she went, the more release she felt from the personalised tension. Hearing a repetitive beeping sound, she jumped. It was Angela’s alarm clock. Grabbing some toilet tissue she hid the razor blade in the pocket of the denim jacket she was wearing. Wrapping the tissue around the wound she went back into the bedroom and found a long sleeve top. Yes it was autumn time, so the long sleeves would prove to be useful outside, but she didn’t want Angela to see what she had done.

Chapter 12 - A new beginning

“So what will we be ordering tonight,” asked Rajeev.
“I think I’ll have the rump steak, well done, with peppercorn sauce,” Stuart replied instantaneously.
Having studied the menu, Emma had settled for something a little less filling. “I’ll have the chicken caesar salad.”
“So that’s one well done steak with peppercorn sauce, and one chicken caesar,” affirmed Rajeev. “I must inform you that it could take up to half an hour for the steak to be ready.”
Emma nodded at Stuart. Stuart looked at Rajeev and said, “Yes, that is fine.”
Having taken their order, Rajeev went to the nearest till point and sent the order through to the kitchen before going inside it to personally confirm that the order had been received. It wasn’t a complete rarity for a celebrity to turn up, but through reviews given by guests over a number of months in which he had been there, he was the most preferred candidate to attend to their every need.

Other guests of the hotel were seated or attended to by a selection of waiters and waitresses, some of whom had been sitting in the press conference with Stuart earlier on. Because he hadn’t been in the industry that long, he was a complete novice in such a well organised high priority event, to the extent he knew absolutely no-one where others had previously bumped into each other. The restaurant itself could hold around two hundred people all seated, and the far end from where they were sitting extended further into a lounge area, which itself was situated right in front of the main bar. The wooden flooring of the restaurant enabled them to hear nearly every footstep that was placed upon it, other than the waiters who seemed to glide effortlessly across. Walls were lit up with relatively dim glowing lights, which were aimed in little pockets at the wall itself in order to project bursts of light at it. There was even a grand piano sitting in the far corner of the lounge, and while there was no individual talent playing away, a variety of young children, their parents, and even people as old as sixty would take it in turns to play something that they had learned or mastered over the years. A charity pot was placed upon the piano, as the hotel itself was an avid supporter of a variety of charities. With all of this going on, the two of them were slowly getting acquainted as this was their first informal meeting.

“So, Stuart, if you had a choice as to what to do for a career, what would you prefer to be doing?” Emma showed an interest, as he was an attractive young man, and he’d caught her eye.
“I’m not completely certain,” he replied honestly. “I’d rather not stay in journalism if this company has expenses issues,” he added. “I would have to say, I’m a creative person at heart. I do like artwork,” indicating pieces around the restaurant area, “and I wouldn’t mind having a piece appear in a hotel of this standard.”
“That sounds interesting. How do you decide what you are going to create from one piece to the next?” She pursued with her own line of questioning, while stroking her wine glass.
Stuart was a little confused, “How do you mean?”
“What I mean is, when you’ve completed one piece, how do you decide what to sketch next?” she asked again, just having reworded it.
“Oh, I just think of something I’ve seen before,” he replied. “I have what they might call, a photographic memory, as I can remember the most intricate details about everything I recall seeing.”
Now it was Emma’s turn to be a little impressed. “That’s fascinating. It’s also a rare gift I believe.”
“From what I’ve heard, it’s not exactly, the most common place artistic gift,” he admitted.
She slowly removed her right foot from her shoe and ran it up the inside of his legs. He was in unfamiliar territory, as although he’d had girlfriends before, he hadn’t been flirted with in this way. Outstretching her hand, she asked for his to be placed in hers. Yes there were other journalists around, but she wasn’t particularly fazed by this. He glanced over at the clock, and already twenty minutes had passed since the order had been taken. ‘Time sure flies when you’re having fun,’ he thought to himself.

After they had eaten their main course and desserts, the two of them had a few words before they headed off in separate directions. Emma had gone back to her hotel room, Stuart had stayed behind in the lounge. No-one had overheard their last few words, he was certain of that, so when fifteen minutes had passed, he made his way up to hotel room 214. Knocking in his usual patterned way, he heard her voice call out, “Come in.”
Pulling the handle down and pushing on the door, he entered into a room with candles on all units, including in front of the television. She was laying on top of the covers neatly spread over the bed, in a short dress, that was see-through in many areas.
“Hello again, Stuart,” she cooed. “So glad you could join me.”
Having not expected quite such a romantic twist to the evening, his heart pounded so loud he felt like it could jump out of his chest. Sensing his cautiousness, she proceeded to encourage him to join her on the bed. As he sat down, she knelt behind his back and placed her hands on his shoulders to give a massage. A few moments later he felt a little more relaxed, and opened up to say, “I wasn’t expecting this Emma.”
Placing a finger on his lips, she motioned for him to remove his shoes and move further up on the bed. Going with the moment, he obliged willingly, and she ran her hand down his face. “There will be a time for talking, but now isn’t it,” she whispered, leaning in closer. Understanding what she meant, he followed suit, and placed a passionate kiss upon her lips. It took a few moments for her to savour their first kiss, taking into consideration the romantic feel of the candlelit room, and they seemed to be glued to each other for what felt like an hour. It had only been a few minutes though, and soon enough their lips parted. Exhilarating. She was incredibly surprised, and he was just swept up in the heat of passion. Peeling off his suit jacket, they shared a handful more kisses, before she paused for a moment and said, “Would you like to see more?” with a gleam of excitement dancing in her eyes. Running his fingers through her hair, he nodded. Placing his right hand on her left breast, he began to caress her soft skin through the material of her see-through dress.

Moonlight shone through the window. She picked up the remote control and flicked to a radio station. Late night love songs were being played, only emphasising what was happening atop the sheets. Unbuttoning his shirt and removing his bow tie, there in the flesh was a fully toned six-pack. Rolling him onto his back, she shared a few more passionate kisses before slowly making her way down his body. His trousers were only held together by a button and zipper, which were removed with relative ease. Removing his trousers completely, she noticed he had gone commando. Raising her dress above her head, she was too, stark naked. He hadn’t anticipated the dinner gesture from her. Now here he was, in her hotel room, ready to embark on a full scale sexual encounter with a star. He really couldn’t believe his eyes. For Emma had a tattoo just above her belly button, of her star sign, which was a Leo. He was a Sagittarian, and from all accounts that he had read in the last few weeks, they were deemed to be a perfect match.

The following morning, a piercing burst of sunlight ripped through the bay window. The candles had been blown out, although the clothing was just slung to the floor. Snuggling up in his arms, she didn’t want to let go. As the angle of the stream of sunlight was, he had no choice but to wake up. Looking away from the window, he saw a woman in his arms. Recollecting the previous evenings events, he wore a smile. Taking her in his arms, he held onto her, not wishing to let go while she was comfortably sleeping.

A few minutes had passed, and the alarm she had set went off. Opening her sleepy eyes she searched for the alarm and turned it off. Clearing the dust from her eyes, she realised she wasn’t alone. A sweet smile formed on her face as she registered who it was, and remembered the evening before.
“Morning,” she said, wearily.
“Good morning,” he replied. “Did you sleep well?”
“The best sleep I’ve had in the last two years since I got my first big break,” she admitted, still a little drowsy.
“Well, I’m glad I could help you,” he answered honestly. Giving her a precious kiss on her lips, he continued. “But I think I should go back to my room, and at least freshen up into a change of clothes.”
She didn’t really want him to leave, but she had her own list of things she was doing today. More movie talk, more red carpet revelations, lunch with another celebrity, it was another long day ahead.
“I wish we didn’t have to part,” she mused, a little tearfully. “I know, can you just be quiet for a moment while I place a call?”
Stuart didn’t have to think twice about his response. “Sure.”
She reached over him, and picked up her mobile. “Hey Jack. Can you come up to my room when you get a chance?”
There was a pause while she awaited a response. Then she continued, “Ten minutes should be fine. See you shortly.”
Jumping out of bed, she explained. “Can you get dressed in ten minutes? I have one of my personal bodyguards coming up. I’ve just had a mini brainwave.”
He was ready in five. It wasn’t too difficult to redress his balanced self. Moments later there was a knock. “Door’s open Jack,” she called out.
In the doorway there stood a six foot three broad shouldered frame of muscle. Stuart was suddenly very anxious, but Emma soon reappeared. “Jack, meet Stuart,” she dealt with introductions very swiftly. The two guys shook hands. “Good grip,” Jack added. He seemed to like Stuart almost as quickly as Emma herself had the evening before.
“Do you have a copy of what I’m scheduled for today?” Emma questioned Jack.
“Yeah, Course I do,” Jack responded. “Don’t think I’d be in this job if I didn’t know where I was supposed to take you to.”
“Can you go and get a photocopy of it? I want Stuart to have a copy. And also, give him your number. If he wants to meet up with me at any point, all you need to do is send finances his way so he can get out to wherever we are,” she pressed. Walking over to Jack, she had to stand on a chair to whisper in his ear. “I really like him, and would like it if he was around more. You remember what has happened since I become my own person.”
“Certainly Emma,” Jack agreed. “I’ll get right on to it.”
Leaving the room quickly, the door closed quietly behind him.
Turning back to Stuart, she added, “I meant every word. He is to give you his contact number for if you ever wish to meet up, you call him, arrange the details, and he’ll get you to me. I wouldn’t say no,” she continued, fluttering her eyelashes. “Needless to say, after last night, I’d be hard pushed to turn you down.”
Stuart was enthralled. Even his wildest dreams hadn’t included meeting the person behind the celebrity status, given that he’d been in a few press conferences with a number of them. Before he could utter anything, Jack had returned.
“Here is a copy of Emma’s next three weeks of scheduled press conferences and which hotels she’d be staying in,” he handed Stuart a couple of pieces of paper with dates and times on. Giving a smaller scrap of paper, he added, “And here, at her request, is my number. We’ll sort out the money as and when we need to.”
Decidedly overwhelmed, Stuart finally found his voice. “Well, I must say I am most pleasantly surprised. Thank you Emma, and thanks to you as well Jack.”
“The life of a celebrity is rarely out of the public eye,” warned Emma. “You must be able to accept your life will possibly come under scrutiny too, if you do take me up on this offer.”
Stuart paused for a moment. “Would I be able to just quit my journalism apprenticeship and concentrate on my artwork?” he was testing waters, but Emma was equally undisturbed. “Yes. Short and sweet, I know, but yes. And Jack, that will be all for now, I have to get myself ready as best as I can before Nikki and Rachel add the finishing touches.”
Jack turned to leave, but Stuart had one more thing to say. “Jack, just before you go, if I was able to quit my apprentice position today, would I just be able to hang around with you when Emma is busy?”
“Yeah, that’s no problem. As long as you don’t do anything stupid or illegal,” Jack’s voice had a hint of stern leadership about it.
“No that’ll be fine,” Stuart ended the conversation with a few more words. “I have to go freshen up, pack my stuff just in case, and place this call, so I must leave too.”
Emma looked at him, “At least wait until Jack has left first,” she pouted.
“Alright,” he hung on for a couple of moments while Jack bit farewell and left them two alone.
“Come here,” she held out her hand. As his hand slotted in hers she twirled gracefully into his arms with a little giggle, before placing a lasting passionate kiss on to his lips. “This is our time, our moment. Lets make the most of it if we can,” she said.
“Too right,” he concluded. “I need to at least make this call and freshen up, so I really ought to be going.”
With that he gave her one last hug, before exiting room 214.

A couple of hours had passed. Stuart had been able to withdraw from his apprenticeship, and freshen up. There had also been time to grab a quick bite to eat from the breakfast buffet, but having glanced at the sheets as to where Emma was going to be, he nervously dialled Jack’s number.
“Hello,” answered Jack.
“Hello Jack, it’s Stuart,” he replied.
“Oh hello Stuart, what is the game plan then?” Jack queried.
“I’m free to pursue my art,” Stuart’s response was emphatic, particularly on the word free. “Have you left the hotel yet?”
“No, we are due to leave in thirty minutes,” came the reply.
“Can you take my cases then while I check out from reception?” It was Stuarts turn to ask the question.
“Sure, I’ll meet you in the lobby at the front,” Jack was selective with words and hung up.
Making his way to the reception, Stuart spotted Jack, and handed over the suitcase.
“Hello,” said the receptionist. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I paid for two nights in cash, have only stayed one, is it possible to get a refund as I don’t think I’ll be back here tonight?” he asked in return.
“Sure, let me just double check your payment,” the receptionist was thorough, but it didn’t take long. “You’ve stayed for one, paid for two, but not staying for the second night, and your bill was originally £179.90?”
“Yes that is right,” he replied.
“Ok, that’s a refund of £89.95,” she quickly calculated. “Do you have a five pence piece?”
Fiddling around in his suit jacket he located a handful of change. Pulling it out he spotted a small, round, silver coin. “There you go,” he said as he slid it over the counter.
“There’s £90 in return,” she handed over five notes. Four twenty’s and one ten.
He said, “Thank you for the hospitality, I may see you again some day,” and exited the hotel. Scanning the main entrance, he finally spotted Jack stood outside a stretch limousine, having a quick cigarette. Hurrying over, he was about to open the limo door himself, when Jack said, “allow me Stuart.”
Guiding Stuart to the back of the limo, Jack opened it and ushered him inside. The leather seats were extremely comfortable, and he was greeted with a joyous squeal of excitement.
“Stuart!” exclaimed Emma. “You managed to quit your apprenticeship?”
“I sure did. I even destroyed the tape of the press conference so that tabloid aren’t getting an interview with you sent back to them,” he chuckled. “I’m a little out of pocket but I got one night refunded by not having to use it.”
Sidling up to him on the seat, she placed her arm around his neck and smiled. She didn’t recall ever being this excited about someone quitting a role, but it was a chance she had at happiness alongside the fame that she hadn’t allowed to get to her head.
“We’re off to have lunch with one of my actress idols today,” she stated. “Have you heard of Anita Baker?”
“She’s one of my idols too,” Stuart was beginning to show signs of how much this new situation was overwhelming for him.
“It’ll be fine hun,” she registered his anxiety. “Yes, I’ll call you hun because I think you are one of the sweetest guys I have met across the media industry.”
Hearing the front door of the limo open and close, Stuart went quiet. The little window in the centre of the partition opened, and Jack called through, “We’re on our way now. Pop your seatbelts on please.”
Doing as they were told, Jack closed the window up and then started up the engine, before selecting first gear, and slowly avoiding collisions. Rolling slowly as they turned around in the car park and exited the grounds of the Serenity Hotel, they sat holding hands.

Chapter 11 - An opportune moment

So a new day beckoned. Raining. Barely a soul passed by the front window without a coat zipped up to the neck, an umbrella open above them, or a hood stopping hair from getting wet. The clouds were quite dark, even though it was supposed to be middle of summer. Roads were jammed with all manner of vehicles, people trying to escape the downpour. Overall speed of pedestrians had increased a little too. It wasn’t exactly the most ideal day to be out walking, but some had little choice, through lack of sight, senility, no drivers licence, or no other way to travel.

In the middle of the sounds of raindrops splattering the pavement outside the window, a piercing noise shook the house. It was only an alarm clock, but it had been set upon the loudest setting possible, for the young man it was meant to awaken was a very heavy sleeper indeed. There could be a raging thunderstorm above and he would not notice it. After a few moments of fumbling around, he stretched out a hand and pressed the snooze button. This would enable a few more minutes of extended sleep.

The flat in which he resided, was owned by the shopkeeper who ran the business from the floor below. The outer walls were showing signs of erosion as the building had been set up that way for nearly forty years now. Inside the oak front door, was a hallway that had barely enough room to hold a selection of coats and jackets. Useful for entertaining guests, but for just him, it played host to his personal collection of hooded jumpers. He wasn’t a troublemaker, just his preferential choice of attire. The best thing he’d found about these was that they were waterproof. Further into the flat was a small kitchen. Ample for one person, a nightmare for holding a gathering of more than a few people. Tucked away in the corner of this kitchen was a fridge-freezer combo, which was stood alongside the sink. There wasn’t enough room in this kitchen for a dishwasher, so all of the dishes had to be scrubbed by hand. The dining room-lounge was an open plan. Given the size of the flat it was hardly likely to fit a major amount in. A four foot table, a two seater sofa, and a couple of armchairs took up the main amount of space. To the right of the window was a television unit, angled at forty-five degrees to face into the entirety of the room. At the back of the lounge was a bathroom, well, more of a shower room as there wasn’t space to extend into having a bath in there as well. The final room of this flat was the bedroom. A single bed was hidden initially from view, with a radiator the initial feature noticed. The main boiler was also in the bedroom, leaving a tiny amount of space for a wardrobe, the doors were able to just about open fully, but because of where the unit had to go, there was a little bit of natural light blocked out from the window.

The alarm sounded again. This time however, the young man reached out a bit quicker and instead of hitting snooze he found the lever to switch the alarm itself off. Rolling the duvet off of himself, he spun his body round and dropped his feet to the floor. Glancing at the time, he noted that it was now ten past seven. Still traffic seemed to pour past, just as the rain continued to bounce off the window. His frame was rather skinny, and his hair was an untidy mop of brown tangled mess. Often looking quite greasy, he had rarely been one for taking enough care of it, and today was no different. Bed-hair was his own unique brand of hairstyle, along with a pair of slim-line spectacles. He had recently had all of his rotting teeth removed, but hadn’t made a move to get any replacements as of yet. Rubbing his eyes a few times before putting his specs on his ears and nose, he stumbled through to the kitchen and filled up the kettle with sufficient water levels to make himself a coffee. To go with his morning coffee he nearly always had a cigarette, but for this he would need to go outside. Luckily for him, the shopkeeper who owned the entire building, had been granted planning permission to build a smokers roof to yield extra protection against adverse weather conditions such as today was.

The shop below was also relatively small. Situated near to the central focal point of the older looking part of the town, there were often passers by from as early as six-thirty. Being a Saturday, there was a little debris from the night before, engulfed in puddles as the rain continued to swamp the floor, and the shopkeeper was keeping himself relatively dry under the awning that proudly projected his family name. A tradition of his ancestry, filled with entrepreneurs and chefs, he was Indian by history, but having been born in England, he was officially English. By luck he was able to own a dual passport, which enabled him to be both British and Indian, both of which were true. Having been a native to the English language, he found himself struggling when it came to understanding what his family would say to each other when they visited. He was five foot eleven, short dark hair, and, like his tenant above, bespectacled. There were often times they would enjoy a brew together, after a long day in the shop for him, but for the tenant who was currently out of work, helping out now and again when requirements were needed to be met, that enabled the twenty-seven year old, six foot tall tenant to be able to keep the roof over his head.

Lighting up his first cigarette of the morning, Gary choked a little. It was a relatively high pressure release, giving him an option to draw on a relaxation technique which he had administered successfully for the last ten years. It was still relatively quiet, although there were a few cars already parked up in the nearby car park. Peering between the raindrops he thought he recognised a black car belonging to someone he knew. However as the flow of rain continued it was a struggle to make out what the number plate specified.

“Good morning sir,” Sachin said, as a prospective customer entered the relatively narrow frame of the door.
“Morning,” grunted a deep voice in return. “Just here for my usual.”
“Twenty Benson and Hedges silver if I remember right,” Sachin scanned the cigarette display behind him. “I seem to have none here, would two tens be ok?”
“No, I’ll have gold instead. Must get twenty,” the deep voice resonated through the sound of the rain.
“Ok, that’s £6.52,” continued Sachin.
“Here’s £7. Keep the change,” The owner of the voice dropped a five pound note and a two pound coin on the counter and made a hasty retreat.
An unusual start to the day, the most common thing he sold early on were the papers, but perhaps being weather affected. After all, wet newspapers were a little tricky to read. Even so, he carried on putting the newspaper inserts inside them, mainly television guides on a Saturday with a seven day outlook as to what programmes were on.

After his morning cigarette, Gary stepped back inside. Unsure as to how the day was going to pan out, he went to find his laptop. He was a self developing music producer in his spare time, and he didn’t have a plan to go looking for a permanent job at the time. Making another coffee, he listened to the rhythm of the rain and wondered if he’d be able to utilise the sound instead. Peering out of the solitary window in the lounge area, he spotted a few people hurrying past, trying to avoid the puddles that were slowly building up. As his laptop loaded up, he decided to take another cigarette break. The stone steps that led down to the back area of the shop glistened in the rays of sunlight that were beginning to poke through the clouds, brightening up the day slightly. The forecast had been for heavy showers all day, but the weathermen weren’t always right. Once the laptop had fully loaded, he opened up his program and looked at his current project. There was a piano part, and a drum pattern, but he wasn’t sure that’s how he wanted the project to feel. Not trained and also not the best singer, he wasn’t sure if he should set himself up for a melody line, but having to think quite hard early on in the day, made it a challenging start.

“Hello Sachin,” came a familiar sounding voice. It was his long term friend John.
“Morning John, what can I do for you today?” Sachin had a smile for everyone anyway, but this was a slightly wider one.
“Well, I wonder if you could help me out?” John asked politely. “You see, I have been working part time with a local band who I feel are quite talented, I just need to see if I can find someone to help me record them.”
Sachin thought for a moment. Hearing the music from the flat above gave him an idea that he hadn’t thought about. “I could always ask my tenant,” he replied. “Judging by what I’m hearing above, he might be able to help.”
John closed the door for a moment to minimise the volume of passing people picking up as it was now eight o’clock. Straining his ears he heard the sounds through the ceiling.
“That sounds rather good,” he noted. “It sounds like he knows what he’s doing at least.”
Sachin replied courteously, “If you want, I could pass your number to him, and ask him to give you a call.”
“There’s no harm in at least talking, I guess,” John mused, as the door swung open and a young woman stepped in to browse the magazines.
“I’ll pass your details on then, look for his call later on,” Sachin was good at multitasking. “Is there anything I can help you with madam?”
She continued to look as she answered, “I was wondering if you had an up-to-date copy of the fashion magazine?”
Sachin excused himself from his conversation with John, and flicked through the magazine box he had at his feet. There was supposed to have been two copies come in but he could only find one.
“You would be in luck my dear,” his voice floated over the counter as he straightened his legs again. “I have one right here. It’s £2.85.”
Navigating her way around the stationary section, she approached the counter and looked at the magazine. “Yes, that’s the one. Oh, and could I get ten Sterling superkings to go with that?”
“Sure, that’s now £5.97,” Sachin totalled up the figures with quick keying into the till in front of him.
Pulling out a ten pound note she said, “I have an odd pound coin if you have any fives left.”
Opening the till point, Sachin shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t actually have any fives left,” he replied dejected. “They’ve flown this morning.”
“Its ok, I’ll probably do better to have the coins anyway,” she continued. “I just find it easier to keep hold of notes myself. But thank you anyway.” Taking her magazine and her cigarettes off the counter and placing them in her handbag, she stepped outside and opened her umbrella. It was still raining quite hard, although the clouds had started to break up allowing patches of blue sky to appear.
“Sorry about that,” Sachin explained to John, “Where were we?”
“You were going to give my details to your tenant,” responded John. “If you could do this sooner, it would give more chance to the group to get things moving a little quicker. They could even get a trial run recording done today.”
“Ah yes, I have your number in my phone, I’ll just jot it down and call up to him. I can’t leave the premises unattended without good reason,” It meant a lot to Sachin to be able to maximise profits.
“Well I bid you good day then,” said John as he opened the door.
“I’ll see you around sometime I expect,” Sachin called through before the door closed.

A stiff breeze started billowing past, blowing the drops of rain into the glass panes. With a few more breaks in the clouds developing, the rain itself began easing, but the breeze stifled the easing by making it sound worse. Playing through his current project, his mobile started to ring. Pausing the music, Gary picked up his phone and answered. “Hello?”
“Hey Gary, its Sachin.”
“Morning,” Gary replied. “Do you need me to help out at all today?”
“Not today. Actually I have something else to ask of you,” Sachin replied enthusiastically.
“Oh,” Gary was surprised. “What would that be?”
“It’s something a friend of mine has just asked me, and he also overheard your music coming through the ceiling,” Sachin pressed on, barely pausing for a breath. “He’s asked me if I knew anyone who could help him record a band. Having heard your music he was impressed with what he’d heard and wondered if you would be interested.”
Gary thought for a split second. “Would it be a paid opportunity?”
“I’m not sure,” replied Sachin. “I can give you his number though, and you can call and ask.”
“I’ve always done things for myself though, self teaching in many aspects of self-developments. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about working with someone,” Gary confessed. “But I guess it wouldn’t do any harm.”
“Have you got a pen and paper ready?” Sachin queried.
“Just give me a moment,” Gary hurried over to his dining room table. A loose pad of paper was sat with a handful of biros. “Ok, fire away.”
“Ok, the number is 01256,” Sachin started.
“0. 1. 2. 5. 6,” Gary repeated it back to him as he wrote it down.
“453525.” Sachin chuckled at the easiness of the number.
“4. 5. 3. 5. 2. 5.” Gary had a habit of reciting individual numbers back to whoever gave them to him just to clarify he had the right number. “And what would be your friends name?”
“John Stapleton.”
“Ok, I’ll give him a call in a bit. I’m just working on a piece right now. Would you like me to turn the volume down a bit if you’re able to hear it down there?” Gary asked.
“No its fine, it’s better than the sound of this awful weather we are having today,” replied Sachin, diplomatically. “Although it looks like it could be brightening up a little.”
“Thanks for that. Sounds like a good idea though,” Gary agreed.
“Ok, back to work now. I’ve got more customers filtering through,” Sachin added before hanging up.
Returning to his piece of music that he was working on, Gary looked at the slip of paper with the number on. It could be a defining moment for him to make the best of his self acquired skills and knowledge. But he had a project to add to for now. Devising a morning itinerary, he made his way back to the kitchen for his third cup of coffee of the morning, and it was only eight-thirty.

A little while later, after adding a little more to his musical project, he paused to take a cigarette break. It was nearly ten o’clock, and he’d been running a few ideas through his head. Piecing them together had been hard going for some reason. Having picked up the little slip of paper with the phone number on, he decided now was a more optimum time to make a call. He had no idea how old this ‘John’ guy was, nor did he know what he would be letting himself in for, but something was better than nothing. Picking up his phone he keyed in the digits written down in front of him, he thought for a moment and then pressed the call button. A voice greeted him at the other end of the line.
“Good morning, John Stapleton speaking, how can I help?”
“Hello John, my name is Gary,” he responded, but was cut off mid-sentence.
“You’re the tenant of Sachin, the newsagent?” John enquired enthusiastically.
“Yes, how did you….?” Gary was shocked.
“I was speaking to him this morning, and gave him my number to give to his tenant. Everyone else tends to call my mobile and I know he’s busy at this time in the morning,” John replied, seemingly a knowledgeable person himself. “It’s a deliberate set up, that after meeting new people I give them my mobile number and impart that it is imperative they use that only.”
Gary briefly took a moment or two to collect his thoughts, before replying. “So, you heard my music this morning then?”
“Yes I did, and as a matter of fact I found it interesting,” John wasn’t going to be stopped from his flow. “The thing is, I have a band connection, but I’m not quite ready to try to record them and was wondering if you would have any knowledge as to how to do such a thing?”
“Oh? I’ve only ever recorded myself, and that was a few months ago,” Gary answered.
“That’s not an issue. Can we meet up, say, eleven-thirty at the Starbucks on the corner of the parade near you?” John asked.
“I’m sure that wouldn’t be an issue,” Gary looked at the clock through the open oak door. “I’ve still got time to get ready.”
“Great. I’ll see you there then. We can talk music all day long if you like.” John finished with a flourish. “Look forward to meeting you.”
Gary heard a little click as John hung up the phone. It felt like there was something near to a big break happening for him. Certainly progress seemed to be being made.

The clouds rolled away as more blue sky appeared and the rain finally eased off. It was still a little breezy, but not quite like what stiff breeze had stifled the rain gradually easing earlier. There stood Gary, a few metres away from the entrance to the Starbucks coffee shop, awaiting John. Looking around him, there were a few people already seated inside, and only now a few tables were being set up outside by one of the baristas. Gary was dressed sharply, sporting a once worn suit jacket, pressed black trousers, a white shirt with a plain red tie, and a pair of cheap but polished black shoes. John was approaching but Gary didn’t know this instantly. John was a little more laid back, in a sporty jacket which was unzipped, a plain blue t-shirt, a pair of jeans and trainers. Having arranged this meeting, John had presumed that Gary would be smartly dressed.
“Hey,” John greeted Gary with a firm hand shake. “Shall we?”
They entered the coffee shop and joined the back of the queue. Only a few moments passed when a barista asked them, “So what can I get for you?”
John replied, “I’ll have a cappuccino please.”
The barista then looked at Gary, “And for you?”
“I’ll just have a black Americano,” Gary answered.
“Can I get one Americano, no milk, and a cappuccino to drink in,” the barista called to their colleague. “Will that be all?”
John nodded.
“That will be £4.30.” The barista took the money from John and gave him the change before adding, “We shall call when your drinks are ready.”
Making their way to a two seater table, John and Gary sat down and begun conversation.
“So, you make music,” John enquired inquisitively.
“Yes I do,” replied Gary. “I have been for about twelve years now.”
“Interesting. Have you had any lessons with any of your work?” John was intrigued to find out more about Gary’s musical knowledge and interest.
“Barely. I learnt guitar chord shapes off my dad many years ago, and had a total of about ten piano lessons. Other than that, the rest is acquired knowledge and self taught creativity.”
“One black Americano, one cappuccino,” called the barista.
“I’ll get these,” said Gary, pushing back his chair before standing up.
“I’m impressed with what I heard this morning,” John said as Gary returned from the end counter with the drinks. “I hope you can help me out recording this local band.”
“I’ll do my best. Is there any money in this?” Gary asked, hopefully.
“There will be. The band pay for my services, so I don’t see why they shouldn’t pay you if you do a good enough job for them,” John replied, confidently. “You have a talent, one that is unlikely to be teachable.”
Gary felt a little wave of personal triumph. Little had he known when he awoke that morning that four hours later he’d be discussing a possibility of developing beyond his original working comfort zones.

Chapter 10 - The Call

The trees swayed in the afternoon breeze. Strolling home, Keith was jumping with excitement. Having looked over the business card again, he couldn’t help trying to place the name. James McNulty. He was sure that surname rang a bell, but he really couldn’t remember where from. But this could be a step in the direction that he’d been seeking for the last three years. Popping into a local shop on his way home, he noticed his friend Tony. “Hey dude,” he called over the shelves.
Tony was startled. “Hey, where’d you come from.”
“I’m just on my way home for an hour or so,” Keith explained. “Are you free to come back for a quick chat?”
“Lets get what we’re getting in here then, I’ll come back for a brew,” said Tony,
Paying for their goods, Keith’s drink, Tony’s sandwich and crisps, they headed back to Keith’s two bedroom house. Situated in the middle of a cul-de-sac, this house was right in the middle of a terrace. Opening the front door, Keith dropped his keys on the little stand he had alongside for that very reason. Indicating the kitchen, he and Tony went through.
“So what happened then bud?” Tony asked.
“Well, where do I start?” Keith replied.
“At the beginning would be useful,” joked Tony. “It’s no good starting with meeting me in the shop.”
“Well of course, that would make the most sense,” Keith went along with Tony’s failed humour attempt. “It’s like this. As I was walking through the park I heard someone playing a guitar. A little challenging above the volume of noise from the toddlers and dogs running around, but being musical I was able to hear it.”
Tony pressed him, quizzically, “Come on, what’s got you beaming like a Cheshire cat?”
“I spoke to a young girl playing the guitar, got talking musically, she let me play it and I got given this by a guy walking past,” he pointed at the business card.
“James McNulty?” Tony was also surprised. “I’m sure I’ve heard of that name before.”
“Me too,” continued Keith. “And that’s not all. The twenty you saw me pay with in the shop…”
“I did notice, where’d you get that from?” Tony interrupted. He was eager to find out what had got his friend so excitable.
“…was also given to me by the same guy who gave me that business card.” Keith was determined to finish his story off. “He said I had a gift and should call back some point today or tomorrow.”
“Really? That’s excellent!” Tony exclaimed. “You shouldn’t hesitate. Something like this doesn’t happen everyday!”
Keith cast a disapproving look over Tony, “I am well aware of this. However I said I’d meet the young girl back at the part at four-thirty. Hopefully she’ll be coming back here and we can talk about music in much more depth.”
“Even so, perhaps there could be something there for both of you,” said Tony. “It’s not impossible, he didn’t hear her play, did he?”
“No, his only interaction with us was when I was playing a cover song,” Keith agreed. “It’ll possibly be better to wait until she’s here and well rested though, as it could be useful in conversing with them.”
Tony shook his head. “I wouldn’t delay my good man, you can always ask them if its ok if you bring a friend along and schedule it for tomorrow if that’s what you really wish to do.”
“I’d rather wait until I had her approval, mate. This would encourage her to stick around to find out whether she could tae her busking to another level too,” Keith was stubborn at times.
“Have it your way. Just don’t be surprised if they don’t accept you for waiting. Anyway, I think I’d better be off as I’m not finished for my day,” Tony reluctantly had to keep it short due to his long working day being only halfway through. “I’ve got a shift to finish. The sooner you call, the better your chances.”
Closing the door behind him, Tony strode down the path and out of sight. Keith glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had about an hour and a half to go before he would have to set off to go back to the park.

After her little fifteen little minute break, she started back up again. The number of people passing through the park had started to increase as parents were navigating their way towards the schools in which their children were. Some had little bits of loose change that they dropped into her case as they passed, relatively impressed with what they were hearing. It was a bit of a breezy afternoon, and her hands were starting to feel a little chilled.

The school gates were already unlocked as they approached. Seeing a number of parents already inside waiting, they realised that they weren’t late. The best of friends from their first days in school, Sam and Fiona were almost always together. Rarely separated, even during the daytime, for company as well as helping each other do various household chores, the two of them had both bore children a few days apart. Sam was the proud mother of an adorable five year old girl, and Fiona was equally proud as a mother, but her four year old boy was a bit of a handful. Luckily for Fiona she had a husband who was out working, but Sam was a single parent after her partner had cheated on her. Also hidden in Sam’s closet was a miscarriage, which was the one secret she had held back from telling Fiona. She didn’t want to tell her because it was her husband who had talked her into it.
As they queued waiting for their kids, they said hello to most of the other parents there who had made their ways across.

With a firm grip on his tape recorder, Stuart was one of the last journalists to leave. Unbeknown to him, he had caught the attention of the a-list celebrity. Making his way out of the conference room, he felt a hand placed upon his shoulder. Turning around and seeing the a-list celebrity stood in front of him, he felt a leap of excitement. Trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, he acknowledged them professionally. “Hello, Miss Howard.”
“Hello,” she replied, in a smooth tone. “You were sat at the front. But through the journalism, I saw something in your eyes that suggested otherwise.”
“Well, work needs to be done to survive,” he began. “To get anywhere the base jobs have to be done.”
“This much is true,” replied Miss Howard. “How would you like to join me at dinner? I shall be ready for around nine this evening.”
Stuart was stunned. Not only had he managed to ask a couple of questions being in the front row, here she was inviting him to share dinner with her. “Would you mind if I bring this along?” he asked, indicating his tape recorder. It was a natural response to anyone who invited him to do anything.
Miss Howard looked at him. “Are you sure that’s wise?” she whispered seductively in his ear. “After all, this is an off the record dinner at my personal bequest. I understand that I am in the public eye but even I must be allowed some time to myself.”
“I guess, one evening off shouldn’t do me any harm,” he agreed. “I daresay it would be interesting to get to know the person behind the talented actress.”
“So you’ll be back here by nine tonight?” she quizzed.
Stuart paused for a moment, thinking rapidly. “Ok. I’ll be here at eight forty-five. You will probably find me at the bar with a coke, as my company failed to accommodate the expenses.”
“It’s not an issue. I’m sure we’ll be able to sort something out. Who knows, you might discover you have a gift that would do you more good to pursue,” she was extremely persuasive. “I’ll probably be here at eight fifty myself. See you later,” she added, with a wink, as she left with her co-stars.

Keith picked up his phone. It was only three in the afternoon, but after careful consideration, he had decided to take Tony’s advice.
“Good afternoon, can I speak to a James McNulty please?” he asked.
“Certainly, I’ll just patch you through,” came the reply.
There was a pause on the line before a little piece of a symphony came playing through. After what seemed like an age, there was a familiar sounding voice on the phone. “James McNulty here, how can I help?”
“Hello James. My name is Keith. I was given a business card earlier this afternoon…” Keith had started to speak but was interrupted.
“Ah, Keith, were you the young man I personally spoke to playing guitar in Limes Park?” James questioned.
“Indeed I was,” Keith replied. “I was there with a young lady, and, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m meeting her again this afternoon. Would you like me to bring her with me at all?”
It was James’ turn to pause. “I don’t personally see what harm it can do. How does tomorrow afternoon around two-thirty sound?”
“Two-thirty would be great. I’ll personally be there myself, but as for my lady friend, it’s still an unknown quantity for now,” Keith finished with. “Look forward to meeting again. Cheerio.”
“Yes I look forward to meeting you to. Bye,” James hung up.
That was that. It was all scheduled to go ahead, whether he was alone or with Grace. Preparing himself with a cup of coffee, black, strong, and sweet, he settled at his laptop setting his alarm for four o’clock, to ensure he had enough time to get back to Limes Park.

It was eight fifty. Stuart was already sitting on a stool at the bar, noticing a few of the other journalists still sitting around in the lounge area. Not to be put off, he glanced over at the television which, playing in the background, had the sentiment of a political news channel about it. The lights were dim, but there was still a hint of daytime around. Turning back to the barman, he was about to order a drink when a voice persuaded otherwise.
“Can I have a glass of white wine, and whatever this gentleman would like?”
He turned back, only to see Miss Howard stood there in a long white dress, down as far as her ankles. Her diamond earrings shone, and he thought ‘They must have cost a small fortune’ before opening conversation. “Good evening, Miss Howard,” he said.
“What can I get for you?” asked the barman.
Turning back to face him, Stuart turned and said, “I’ll just have a pint of coke.”
“You don’t have to just have a soft drink,” said Miss Howard. “I don’t mind paying.”
“It doesn’t feel quite, right,” Stuart responded. “Admirable as the sentiment is, I can’t afford it, therefore it’s only fitting that I have what I would have bought for myself.”
“It’s your choice, but you are welcome to have a drink.” She replied in earnest.
Taking her arm in his, as their drinks were being prepared, he called to the barman, “Just bring the drinks to us, we shall be seated near the window.”
They approached the restaurant and were acknowledged by a waiter. The waiter introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Rajeev. I shall be your waiter for this evening.”
With a couple of menu’s in his hand, he spoke again, “Follow me, window seat as usual Miss Howard?”
“Yes please,” she replied.
Escorting her to her seat, he released her arm from his and pulled out her chair. Once she was seated he moved to the chair opposite and sat down himself.
“Here are your menus,” Rajeev said, placing them down on the table. “Your drinks will be here shortly too.”
“Thank you Rajeev,” Stuart acknowledged, “We will be ready in about ten minutes with our choices I think.”
Leaving them to it, Rajeev went back to the restaurant booking stand.
“Ten minutes? You don’t hang around I take it?” Miss Howard seemed surprised.
“Not usually, I’m generally looking for just myself,” Stuart replied. “Not really much point in waiting longer than necessary. I even know what I’m likely to choose, I just browse the options for a couple of minutes to make sure nothing stands out at me.”
“And by the way, my name is Emma,” she added, quietly. “Though for now, you may feel better calling me Miss Howard.”
She had noticed that some of the people around were also, just like Stuart, just here to get a scoop. As promised, he hadn’t brought down his tape recorder, and briefly taking his menu in his hand, he scanned over it and settled for his most regular dish. “I’m ready,” he said. “I know what I’m having.”
“Already?” She queried. “I’ve not even thought about what I want.”
“I’ve read so many menus over the short time I’ve been doing my journalism,” he responded. “Travelled to many places, eaten many different meal varieties. I usually opt for a well done rump steak, with mashed potatoes, and peppercorn sauce.”
She studied him for a moment. “I think I’ll have the same then. It sounds appetising.”

The alarm sounded. It was four in the afternoon and he had to go back to meet the musician at the park. Keith didn’t want to disappoint Grace, so he closed his laptop shut, locked up his studio, picked up his jacket off the back of the chair in the dining room, and opened the front door. Strolling outside, he turned back and locked up, leaving his two bedroomed house deserted. It was a little bit of a walk but he had thirty minutes to get there.

Clouds had filled the sky. There was a glimmer of sunlight poking through in pockets of blue sky now. Kids were playing football on the green, parents looking on, and motorists were driving or riding their way down the main road on the outskirts of the town. Striding through the traffic, he made his way purposefully towards the park. There were a lot more people about now, with the after school effect. Some were playing rough and tumble, others were playing something like rounders, only using a tennis racket instead of a bat. Nearly tripping over a loose football, he kept his balance by getting hold of the nearest railing. He listened hard, but found it very challenging to pick out the sound of a guitar. The park itself was quite extensive, spanning over two acres of field, with a couple of buildings at the far end. These had tennis courts and were private land. The rest of the park had a couple of children’s playgrounds, a couple of football fields, and a site which was sizeable enough to host open music festivals. It would take him twenty minutes to walk around the entire park, but scanning his eyes around all the known benches from left to right, he happened to see a lone figure, with what looked like a guitar in their hands. Unsure as to whether they were male or female from this far, he started to cross over to head in their direction. Suddenly there was a call from his right hand side. “Hey Keith! I’m surprised you came back.”
Peering over his right shoulder, he saw Grace, sitting at the same bench that he’d met her earlier on that day.
“Hey there, I’m surprised you remembered my name after seeing so many people go past. I’m sure there’s been more than just me interested in your music,” he replied.
“There’s always a few, but very rarely do people ask to play my guitar,” she stated. “So few in fact, that I remember everyone who’s asked me if they could.”
Keith wasn’t particularly surprised by this.
“Have you thought more about my offer this afternoon?” he enquired. “If you do want to come, that chap who gave that business card earlier on, I gave them a call. They want me to meet them at their offices tomorrow afternoon, and you’re allowed to be there too.”
“That really does sound like there’s some progress,” she was a little apprehensive. “But what if they don’t like my music? They only heard a snippet of your covers repertoire earlier.”
He sat next to her, and gazed directly into her eyes. “I’m sure they’ll like your music as it is different. It’s certainly not the same as other buskers that I’ve heard, and on top of that, you make a living of enough income to move around towns, stay somewhere overnight, and eat.”
Knowing that what he was stating was arguably factual, she didn’t have an answer. But for his first question, she was a little more prepared. “You offered me the chance to get a decent night of sleep in a comfortable bed, and now with this offer of speaking to this guy who gave you the business card, it’s a little overwhelming,” she was a touch nervous herself. “But having given the offer a lot of due consideration, I believe it would be unwise for me to pass up such an opportunity. I’d personally be delighted to take you up on your offer.”
With the graciousness of royalty, she stood up, put her guitar in its case, and said, “Lead the way, my good man.”
Talking a little more as they walked back, Keith was almost as nervously excited as Grace was. Neither of them had been given this opportunity, Keith in three years of trying, Grace in five. That was all about to change.
“Do you want to go and get something to eat first?” Keith asked. “You must be hungry after playing all afternoon.”
“Just a little bite on a sandwich will do me,” she replied. “I ate not long after you left.”
Taking her by the hand, he said in return, “Ok, I think we will just go straight back then. I can make a sandwich if you want.”

Upon returning to the house, Keith showed Grace where she was to put her jacket. “I’ll show you the studio in a minute,” he said, as the phone begun to ring. “By all means, there’s the kettle, cups are in the cupboard above it, teaspoons are in the drawer below it. Make yourself at home and I’ll be there in a moment.”
Hurrying to the phone before it went to the automated answering machine, he picked up the receiver. “Hello?” he said nervously.
“Hello, is this Keith speaking?” asked the woman on the other end of the line.
“Yes, this is Keith,” he was even more nervous now. “What’s the matter?”
“I have a message from the business of James McNulty. It’s not good news. He’s been taken into hospital upon suspicion of a heart attack,” replied the woman. “Before he went, he asked me to call you to let you know that the meeting has been rescheduled for eleven in the morning. You’ll be meeting with Jake Andrews instead.”
“Eleven, with Jake Andrews. Send my regards to James and his family,” he shook a little. “I hope it wasn’t a severe one.” Replacing the receiver on the handset he moved slowly back to the kitchen.
Spotting him looking dejected, Grace asked, “Is everything ok?”
“Not really,” he replied. “The guy who gave me that business card in the park has had a suspected heart attack. We’ve got someone different to go and see, at eleven in the morning,” he continued, “but what if they don’t like what we do?”
“I’m sure they will, Keith,” Grace replied. “Surely it would be better heard than ignored again.”
“I guess you’re right,” he stuttered.
With an air of uncertainty, he made them both a cup of coffee as it sank in. This was going to be a rather strange evening.