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Authors: Erik Schubach

London Harmony: Doghouse (8 page)

BOOK: London Harmony: Doghouse
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She gave the look you'd give an animal you didn't want to startle and spoke slowly,  “You're talking like you're off your trolly lady.  It's just a superstition.”

I shook my head, knowing I probably did sound a little off kilter to a non-believer, and I explained, “It's a superstition for a reason.  Why tempt fate?”

She grinned at me, probably because she thought I was the odd duck now.  Then she reached inside her bag and pulled out her coin purse and took a coin out and placed it face up on the sidewalk and proudly proclaimed, “There.  Now two people can have good luck today.”  Then she dragged me down the way.  “Walk me back to the hall.  Tell me how you got into jazz music.”

I couldn't have stopped my smile if I had wanted to.  I placed my hand over hers in the crook of my arm and started telling her about Uncle Slade as we walked.

Chapter 7 – Lunch

The rest of the week was just as frustrating.  The next day she called saying she had a message from Fran again.  She brought me to lunch at Cavendish's.  Only to say that Fran's answer to my question of 'what does no mean?'  “She says that no means, negative, abnegation, and declination.  That it is a simple matter of looking up the definition online or in the dictionary if you are so inclined.”  She smiled almost smugly.  “She's into big words like that.”

I almost growled and said, “I need to find Scratch.  I'm stuck here if I don't have my passport.  Is there anything I can do to convince her just to tell me where he is?”  I still wondered why I wasn't telling anyone that Scratch was a woman.

She cutely licked her spoon clean and said, “I'll ask her.  But you owe me four songs.”

I squinted at my arch nemesis and suppressed the grin I seemed to have on my face anytime I was crossing foils with her.  “Fine, be at Ronnie Scott's Friday night.  I'll make sure your name is at the door.  Pain in My Arse Hoyte.”  She giggled, and I heard Olive over at the counter chuckle as she pretended to read her romance and not eavesdrop on us.

I idly wondered if Olive was the only waitress here.  I have only seen her and the cook both times I was here, and they handle the lunch crowd alone.  I heard a dishwasher constantly running and dishes being stacked in the back, so maybe there were three of them.

I walked her back to the residence and she invited me in to talk some more.  We wound up chatting and exchanging barbs in her office.  I hadn't had such a good time in a long while.  We spoke for hours.

I noticed Fran come in with that other woman again, and head to the back wing.  I could have run out of the office to intercept them.  I almost did, but I was having far too much fun with the evil pixie.

Fine, I admit it, I was actually enjoying our game of her being the in-between.  I had no clue how long I had before the authorities caught up with me, so I should enjoy this banter with Amy as long as I could.  I saw her smile a bit when I turned my head back to her.

I learned that Amy had a room there at Ponsonby Place.  It was part of the benefits of being the Hall Matron.  She was in charge of the operation of the whole place.  She watched over the residents and managed the custodial and security staffs.  There was room in the budget for her to have an assistant, but she was almost obsessive compulsive about how she ran things that she couldn't imagine anyone ever filling the slot.

When I left that evening, to forage for food before heading to the hostel, she searched frantically for her glasses that were sitting next to her on the counter, and she walked me to the door.  She smiled off to my left and said a shy goodbye.

I bid my good night saying, “Bye you evil runt.  Let me know what Fran says.  It is really important.”

She nodded and I stopped myself from leaning in and giving her a goodnight kiss.  What the hell was that?!  I settled for a smile and hurried off into the night.  I thought about it for a moment.  That had almost felt like a date.  But most of my dates ended up in someone's bed.  I admitted to myself that I had more fun just speaking with her than any date I had been on.  I was so confused.

Wednesday and Thursday were the same.  I would get a little bit more of the story behind Fran's reticence to speak to me each day from Amarissa.  Usually, there were big words I admit to not understanding in the replies.  This Fran girl must be a walking dictionary.

Thursday Amy took me on a walking tour of the area.  It wasn't until I dropped her back off at the residence hall later that I realized we had been walking around holding hands as we traded teasing insults.  She was intelligent as quick as a whip.  I was sort of getting to find her off focus gaze pretty endearing.

Before she went in, I remembered something.  “Amarissa, wait.”

She turned back quickly with a look of anticipation on her face.  Why was I blushing?  I pulled something out of my pocket and asked, “May I see your glasses?”

She patted her pockets and the top of her head and I swear she was about to start spinning as she looked behind her, like she was going to chase her tail.  I smiled and reached out and took them off her nose.  She giggled when she realized she was wearing them.

I attached the little lanyard I had purchased before I saw her that day to the earpieces. And looped it over her head and pushed her hair back out of the loop of fabric that matched her hair color.  I smiled at her.  “There, now you'll always know where your roaming feline glasses are.”

She bashfully touched the lanyard and then caught me by surprise when she suddenly hopped up on her tiptoes and gave me a quick peck on my lips and escaped into the Ponsonby.  I stood there in stunned silence for a moment as heat started to spread through my body.  I smiled and turned and almost skipped to the bus stop.

I was conflicted the next day.  Maybe it was just nerves that I would be playing the second to last venue on my list.  I still hadn't heard from the Factory, and I kept up my routine of calling and mailing them.  They had to at least get frustrated enough to tell me to leave them alone soon.

I couldn't get the scraggly auburn haired woman and her brown eyes out of my head.  She was just the gatekeeper, keeping me away from my target right?  I needed a fresh perspective so I pulled out my phone and dialed.  “Hi, Gina... yes.  It is great to hear from you too, I need to bounce something off of you... what?  You were about to call me?  Advice?  Sure but I don't know if I'm the person anyone should take advice fr... oh, okay.  Lunch then.   Gertrude's?  Okay, see you then.”

I had the whole morning to waste, I could never practice my strings on the day of a gig.  I always wrote it off to nerves.

So I wandered the neighborhood around Gertrude's, swaying to my music on my phone as I explored.  In the same alley, I found a great secondhand shop, Forgotten Threads, which had the most amazing vintage clothing.  I half chuckled when I came upon some well-worn cowboy boots.  They had a wider point, which marked them as being pre nineteen fifties, since that is when they started going for the pointed toe look.  My best guess was the nineteen twenties.

I tried one on and it seemed to cradle my foot.  The modern, mass-produced boots couldn't compare to the craftsmanship of a handmade boot.  I absently wondered why I was even entertaining the thought of them, but realized they would be perfect to shut up that evil pixie.

I smiled to myself and paid for them.  I blanched a little at the price, but it would be worth it to see the look on Amarissa's face.  I checked my funds.  If Mr. Raisin didn't pay well tonight, I'd have to... umm... supplement my income soon.  I had scratch enough for maybe three more days since I would have to pay for another week at a hostel because I hadn't secured a gig at the Factory yet.

I opted to wear the boots out of the store and stuffed my well-worn sneakers into the bag from the shop.  They were surprisingly comfortable and gave me an extra inch of height, thanks to their heels.  There wasn't of the stiffness you got with new shoes.  I rolled my eyes at myself.  Of course not Liza, someone broke them in almost a century ago for you.

I absently wondered how many owners the boots have had, and how many times they had been repaired over time.  They were obviously well maintained and cared for.  I imagined a dozen scenarios about how they found their way into that second-hand shop.  I purposefully ignored the most likely of scenarios.  They were probably purchased at an estate sale after the owner had passed.

Before long, I saw Gina standing outside of  Gertrude's looking around nervously.  Her face bloomed into a smile and she gave a tiny wave from her hip with one hand.  It was adorable, she was going to make someone a fine catch if she ever got over her terminal shyness.

I smiled hugely and just engulfed her in a bear hug.  She squeaked and giggled as I released her and said, “Hey, lady.”

She beamed.  “Hey.”

Then I held the door open for her.  The place was already crowded, we'd need to sit outside again under the awning, and that was fine by me, I loved the ambiance.  Before long we were catching up over sausage and mushroom slices, and coffee.  I grinned, this felt like the friendships I used to forge back in the States.  I idly wondered why I had purposefully avoided them the past five years.

After the first slice, and a second magically appeared in front of us, Gina looked seriously at me and took a deep breath.  Then all at once she blurted out, “I have a date tomorrow and I don't know what to do.  I'm terrified.”

I smiled in genuine happiness and spoke with a mock British accent, “That's brill!”  Then asked, “Who is the lucky person?”

She blushed and almost whispered.  “There's this girl... she works at the coffeehouse just across the way from work.”  She looked down at her hands which she had clasped together and was working nervously.  Then she looked at me like she needed to explain.  “She always draws these smileys and a little heart dotting the I in my name on my cups.”

Then she admitted more to herself than me. “She's sort of why I've been questioning my sexuality lately.  She's so... sexy.  All the blokes are always hitting on her, but she ignores them.”

Then she smiled as her blush deepened.  “I don't know what came over me.  I've felt more confident since I met you.  Yesterday when I placed my order, I added 'and a picture at the cinema with you night after next?' I practically died on the spot.  I couldn't believe I actually said what I was thinking out loud.”

She exhaled and took another breath and whispered, “At first I didn't think she heard me and I was relieved, but then she handed me my coffee.  Below my name with the heart and smileys was her mobile number.”

My grin threatened to split my face.  I was proud of her!  I said, “Good on you Gina.  When are you picking her up?”

She shrugged and I could barely hear her as she said, “Dunno.  I haven't worked up the bloody courage to call her yet.”  She pulled out a coffee cup which had been meticulously flattened and showed it to me.  There was loopy writing below her name, “Valerie”  and a cell number.

I narrowed my eyes, I hoped menacingly, and put my hand out wiggling my fingers.  “Cell.”

She looked at my hand, then my eyes.  She looked like a cornered rabbit.

I tilted my head and looked at her purse.  “Come on woman, your phone.  Now.”

She hesitantly dug it out and handed it to me.  I had to tug it out of her hand.  Then I smiled in triumph as I typed in Valerie's number and hit 'call', then handed it to Gina, who was white as a ghost. I said, “I do this because you are about my only friend here in London and I love you.”

She swallowed and listened in her phone and whispered to me, “You're the devil aren't you?”

I nodded and grinned, then she looked down at the flattened cup and blushed, “Hi... umm... Valerie?  It's me, Gina... from the coffee shop.  Oh... yes.  Umm, you choose... excited?  Me too.  Right then, I'll get your address tomorrow.  What?  You too.  Cheerio.”

She hung up and her hand hit the table with her phone in it like the phone weighed a million pounds.  “Bloody hell, I just made a git out of myself.  Who says cheerio anymore?”

I shrugged and laid my hand over hers and her phone.  “No, it was pretty darn cute.  I'm proud of you.”

She took a breath then smiled and said with a tinge of wonder in her voice, “I have a date.”

I nodded in anticipation as she added, “With a girl.”  I nodded again trying to reign back my smile a bit.  Then she went white and asked in a panic, “What am I going to wear?”

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the manic woman.  I took a huge, satisfied bite of pizza and said, “Not to worry lady.  I'll drop by tomorrow and help make you even more irresistible.”  I knew if I didn't, nobody else would since she hadn't told any of her other friends yet, she was afraid of how they would react.  She wanted to be sure herself before she dropped the bomb.  Though nowadays, it wasn't as shocking to people.

She exhaled a breath of relief then grinned, “I love you, demon spawn.  Now, didn't you say you had something to bounce off of me?”

I felt sort of embarrassed after she just shared one of the most important decisions of her life with me.  I shrugged.  “It's nothing.”

She shook her head. “Oh bullocks.  Don't make me pry it out of you.”

I looked at her expectant face, one eyebrow arched, the other covered by the locks of hair that insisted upon obscuring part of her face no matter how many times she brushed it out of the way.

She narrowed her eyes and I surrendered, “Fine you evil, evil wench.”

She grinned in triumph and took a bite of pizza.  I shook my head at her and smiled.  I could see changes in her just since I met her, she was gaining confidence even though this date terrified her.

I didn't know where to start.  “It's just that... there's this girl.”  I shook my head, “Never mind, it's ridiculous.”  She shook her half eaten slice at me in a menacing manner.  I looked at my hands then her and steeled my resolve.  “This girl has me so confused, she's frustrating.  Part of me wants to strangle her and part of me wants to...”

I let it hang a second then clarified, “She's blocking me from getting something of mine back, she's playing games that have me wanting to rip my hair out.  It's quite deliberate how evil she is being.  But God help me if I don't find it cute.”

BOOK: London Harmony: Doghouse
11.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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