The Collectors Book Five (The Collectors Series 5) (39 page)

              Throughout the evening, they consumed beer after beer.

              “I know how to avoid a hangover,” slurred Andreas.

              “Really,” said Bear.

              “Stay drunk.”

              “And you are,” said Bear. “Park your arse in the corner and go to sleep.”

              After midnight the landlord entered. “Gentlemen, your three taxis have arrived.”

              Brian, James and Zack tumbled into one. As they shouted goodnight it raced away.

              George, Pavlo and Stavros, supporting each other, fell into another.

              Bear holding Andreas by the scruff of his shirt sat in the third car and waited for Petros.

              Two minutes later he arrived and jumped into the front passenger seat. “You know the address, driver. Time for bed.”

***

At ten o’clock, the smell of bacon, eggs, beans and tomatoes filled the kitchen. Petros stood by the cooker and banged a cast iron pan onto the range.

              Bear, followed by a pale-faced Andreas, descended the stairs. “No need for the racket. The aroma of breakfast woke me. I’ve showered and ready to eat.”

              Petros grinned. “You’re always ready to eat. Plates are on the counter, toast in the toaster. I’m not a waiter, help yourselves.”

              Andreas grabbed a cup and poured a coffee.

              “Not eating?” asked Petros.

              “That curry was a bit strong for me.”

              “Nothing to do with the ten pints and numerous brandies you threw down your neck.”

              “What he doesn’t want I’ll eat. Must build my strength up for tomorrow,” mumbled Bear as he covered his eggs with brown sauce.

              Charlie lay in his basket, his eyes alert to any crumb, which fell to the floor.

              Petros drank fresh orange juice from a tumbler and made himself an egg and bacon sandwich. “Today we relax and make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow”.”

              I wouldn’t worry, Jocelyn, Maria and your mum will have sorted everything. PK, Any more eggs and bacon? And while you’re at it, pass over a couple of slices of toast.”

              “You want it, you cook it.”

              Andreas drank his second cup of black coffee and nibbled a slice of dry toast. “I’ll take it easy.”

              Bear placed the remaining rashers into the frying pan until they were crisp. Three he placed between two slices of buttered toast. The others he allowed to fall to the floor.

              Charlie barked but did not move.

              “It’s all yours, Dog,” said Petros.

              In two strides, his long tongue pulled the bacon into his mouth.

              “Don’t tell Alysa,” said Petros.

              Charlie barked and settled back into his basket.

              “We’d better give this kitchen a good clean after breakfast or Maria will ban you from this house forever. Tonight, I’ve booked a local restaurant for dinner, then it’s back home and an early night.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

The morning of the wedding day arrived. “I’ll get my car,” said Petros.

              Bear turned to Andreas as the aged BMW stopped in front of the door.. “With all his millions you’d think he’d buy a new car instead of that old banger.”

              Petros slapped him on the back. “That old banger is a classic. BMW don’t make them like that anymore.”

              “Thank God,” said Bear.

              “You can always walk.”

              “I have a choice?”

              “I’ll drop you and Andreas at the registry office and drive on to Mayfair. Should be back in less than fifteen minutes.

              “Have you got the rings? Where are they?”

              “For the tenth time, I have and they’re in my jacket pocket. Get your arse into gear and go sit in the car. Andreas, you’re with me inside the registry office directing the guests. I’m the groom’s side and you’re Jocelyn’s.”

              “How do I know who they are?”

              Petros gave a half smile. “You could ask them.”

              Andreas shrugged, opened the door, and walked to the car.

              Wearing a hired morning suit, Bear glanced in the mirror. “I’ve scrubbed up okay.” He touched his shaven head as he turned and examined the tailoring, which covered his large frame. “She’s a lucky woman.”

              “Dog,” said Petros.

              Charlie lifted his head from his pillow.

              “Look after the house.”

              As if to say I always do he closed his eyes and gave a little yelp.

              Petros lifted the mail from the mat, shoved it into his jacket pocket, and slammed the door.

              With forty minutes to spare, Andreas and Bear climbed the steps of Marylebone registry office, located the room, and entered.

              “Take a seat, Bear, the man who does the business will want a few words.”

              Andreas checked the time and glanced around.

              Petros returned and ran up the steps.

              Andreas commented, ”If more guests arrive, it’s standing room only.”

              Petros swept his gaze along the rows of unknown faces. Jack, Zena and his brothers arrived and Phoebe, Andreas’ wife.

              Jack nudged his stepson. “I see Jocelyn’s boss has arrived.”

              Petros acknowledged Derek Fisher, Captain of HMS President and his team all dressed in their best uniforms with medals glistening, at the rear of the room.

              Andreas directed Bear’s army pals and their wives to seats near the front.

              When Amadou, along with his wife Durrah, ZZ and Scarlet strolled through the door, Petros almost fell over. “No one told me you were coming.”

              “Maria contacted me when we were in Sicily but asked me not to tell.”

              Petros turned to ZZ. “Nice to see you two back together.”

              “She couldn’t live without her man from the desert.”

              Scarlet, wearing a low cut dark green dress slit up to her thigh, nudged him in the ribs. “I thought I’d have a holiday in Libya and bumped into Amadou.” She lifted her left hand where a large diamond sparkled. “I intend to make an honest man out of ZZ.”

              “Talk later. Find some seats if you can.” Petros checked the time, motioned to the registrar and left the room.

              On the top of the stone steps at the entrance, he waited underneath the carved architrave with Derek Fisher.

              The approaching white Rolls Royce flashed its headlights and stopped.

              Petros descended the steps as Maria, matron of honour, wearing a sleeveless burgundy, full-length silk dress with straight skirt, exited the car. Jocelyn followed wearing the same style but in ivory with a long train over one arm. Her two bridesmaids, in yellow and white dresses jumped out and waited.

              The driver removed from the boot, one large bouquet of lily of the valley, three posies of yellow and burgundy carnations. When ready he gave Jocelyn a kiss on the cheek, wished her good luck and handed the flowers over.

              “Papa, I’m a big girl. I’m five and a quarter.”

              He chuckled. “Can you two promise me something?”

              Alysa and Lucy looked at each other and nodded.

              “When we are in the room full of people can you stop talking for ten minutes?”

              “Yes papa, mama has already told us.”

              Maria adjusted Jocelyn’s dress as they climbed the steps.

              At the top, Derek took Jocelyn’s right arm and they walked inside and waited until Petros gave them the nod and vanished.

              The doors opened and Jocelyn with Derek walked towards the table where the registrar waited. She nodded to those she knew and smiled at the others.

              The ceremony was short but delightful.

              When it came to the vows, Bear said in a clear and loud voice, “I, William Montgomery Morris, take Jocelyn Linda Scott to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

              Everyone giggled when Jocelyn stuttered with William Montgomery Morris.

              Petros contacted the cab company to be ready to pick up. “Maria, you and the girls are in the first cab. I’ll be in the last.”

              With the register, signed the bride and groom hurried out to the waiting Rolls Royce.

              As the bride’s car drew away from the kerb, six black cabs formed a line. Petros directed the guests, five or six to a cab. When one pulled away, another joined the queue until he jumped into the last one.

              The Savile club in Mayfair opened its doors as Bear and Jocelyn arrived.

              The event manager directed them to the old staircase where the photographer and twelve Royal Naval Reserve Officers, six either side, waited as the guard of honour.

              Bear and Jocelyn fixed the smiles on their faces as the photographer snapped away.

              “I’m starving,” said Bear. “If we don’t eat soon your new husband will fade away.”

              “Be quiet and smile,” whispered Jocelyn. “Remember you asked me, so this is your fault.”

              “You could have said no.”

              “Thank you,” said Rodney the photographer. “I’ll glide around during the meal and speeches, taking random shots for your album. As requested, I have positioned three cameras in the building filming the complete event.”

              “Do whatever you do,” said Bear. “I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

              “I don’t do okay. Every one of my pictures is a masterpiece of creation.”

              Jocelyn grabbed his arm. “Go and do what you do best. My husband is not favoured with an artistic disposition.”

              “I understand,” said Rodney. “At least I know who the better half is.”

              “Ready?” asked Petros.

              “For what?”

              Jocelyn nodded and grabbed Bear’s hand. “For you the best part of being married. Dinner is served.”

              Petros stood by the dining room door and announced Bear and Jocelyn.

              “Smells good,” said Bear as they paraded in.

              At the head of the table Bear waited for grace to finish before he seated Jocelyn. “Now that’s what I call a steak,” On the platter placed in front of him was the largest T bone steak he’d seen outside of a ranch in the USA.

              In between each of the four courses, the required speeches came and went, a decision made by Jocelyn.

              “Time you and your wife changed into your travelling clothes,” said Petros. “Here’s the key to my bedroom. Your cases are by the bed. You have thirty-five minutes.”

              Bear nodded, beaming.

              “You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” said Jocelyn.

              “We’re going to lie on a beach on the island of Montserrat. Drink the local plonk and watch the sunset over the Caribbean.”

              “And when the sun sets?”

              “Do you need to ask?”

              “Come on, we’d better change or we’ll miss our flight.”

              The envelopes in Petros’ jacket pocket dug through his silk shirt and into his chest. He glanced into the bar where the guests either drank or danced. One by one, he scanned the envelopes, the last, postmarked Malta. He sat in the nearest chair, ripped it open, and read James Eden’s account.

              “The bastards.”

              “Papa said a naughty word.”

              In front of him stood Alysa, Lucy and Maria. “Now I suppose she’ll be telling all her school friends your naughty word. I’m taking these two up to their room.”

              “Fair enough but read this first. My gold has been taxed? After expenses they’ve charged forty percent.”

              “But there’s millions of people out there who would love to earn what you pay in taxes.”

              He shook his head. “That’s not the point. They stole twenty million.”

              “Say goodnight to the girls. Oh, by the way, Lucy will be living with us until Bear and Jocelyn return from honeymoon and she attends her new school. ”