Meanwhile Gardens (26 page)

Peter nudged Alan. “I told you he’s butch,” he whispered.

“So what if I did hit him?”

“There’s no what ifs about it Ollie. He has the shiner to prove it.”

“He’s lucky it wasn’t worse then isn’t he?”

Murray looked questioningly at Johnson who whispered behind his hand, “StJohn was driving the car in which James died.”

Lyle leant forward on his elbows. “He says if you ever go near him again – ”

“Don’t tell me what he says. If StJohn wants to say anything he can tell me to my face.”

Although normally thriving on any sort of drama the table had hushed to a rather threatening silence. Again Tim took control. “Well,” the chairman cleared his throat, “I don’t think having a night out in Soho – even if you did descend into Essex type drugs – ”

“It must have been Wayne’s influence – he was from Dagenham you know,” Johnson threw in.

“ – counts as anything tragic,” Tim continued. “And whilst having a handsome hunk ditch you – ”

“And rip you off,” Ollie pointed out.

“ – merits a couple of points it’s nothing that hasn’t happened to several of us – ”

Even though it was Johnson’s first TQ lunch he threw himself into the proceedings with all the ease of a founder member. “You should be so lucky!”

“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” Alan sang in imitation of Kylie.

“Wayne was,” Johnson continued, “I hate to use the term but nothing else will suffice – drop dead gorgeous and sure, it might be seen by some that to have someone paid to seduce you – ”

Ollie had a feeling that wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Wait!” Peter called from the end of the table. “Did you say ‘having someone
paid
to seduce you’?”

Johnson nodded.

“Well, that’s pretty tragic and should get a couple of extra points – Tim?” Peter looked to the chairman.

“You should be so tragic!” Johnson interrupted.

“Tragic, tragic, tragic,” several voices chimed before subsiding into giggles.

“If any of you,” Johnson gestured around the table, “had seen this guy you would have been throwing money at him to get him to even smile at you. It wasn’t like Ollie was paying him.”

“Still a couple of extra points are due for the novel twist,” Tim confirmed.

“Did he say he loved you?”

“No.”

“So what’s the harm?”

“It just sounds like uncomplicated, no-strings-attached adult sex.”

“Does anyone remember such a thing?”

“Is there such a thing?”

“Johnson was right,” Murray finished off his glass and poured another all in one fluid motion. “The tragedy is it didn’t happen to any of us.”

Alan couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. “It just sounds like an early Christmas present to me, a stocking filler perhaps,” he said raising his glass to Ollie.

An early Christmas present? Ollie smiled. That’s how he would choose to see Wayne.

The final vote was decided over coffee and brandies.

“I’m so glad cigars are not an option these days,” Ollie sniffed his Cognac. “I loathe the things.”

“Me too,” Johnson said. “If I’m going to put an eight inch Cuban in my mouth it’s not for smoking – you know what I’m saying?”

“I hear you!” Murray, smiling flirtatiously, moved closer to Johnson.

“He said an eight inch Cuban not a one inch Scot, Murray,” Jason hissed from Ollie’s left.

The chairman rapped on the table. “I’ve tallied up.”

Talking immediately ceased. All eyes were on Tim.

“Whilst Alan scores for being mistaken for Prince Edward and Murray scores for being thrown out of the Met Bar after being sick over Tracey and Kate….”

“It was only over their shoes!” Murray exclaimed, giving Johnson’s leg a quick squeeze under the table.

“Lyle doesn’t score for having his best friend punched by another member here.”

All eyes looked at Ollie.

“That’s really vicarious tragedy and doesn’t count. I get some marks for booking a massage and only getting a massage – ”

“Shall we get out of here?” Johnson whispered to Murray who nodded enthusiastically. The lifestyle enhancer took out his black American Express card and flashed it at the waiter. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Tim.

“But the rest of you: whilst it might have been upsetting to have ugly builders re-doing your wetroom – ”

“They were a fright, all the neighbours could see,” Peter piped up opposite Ollie.

“ – and being clamped is no doubt a pain it doesn’t come under the heading of ‘tragedy’, Ollie scores for having his dog being beaten up by some geese and other aspects of his situation have certain merits but, on balance, the tragedy queen for this week for having cruised his own father is – ”

Before the chairman could finish Johnson again flashed his black American Express card in the air.

“Sorry,
was
going to be Jason,” Tim corrected himself. “We have a new winner, a late entrant,” Tim grabbed Johnson’s credit card and waved it at the others. The sight
of the black card elicited a few ‘Ooohs’ and knowing smiles. “The winner on account of having a black American Express card, and therefore having to pay for everyone’s lunch, is our newcomer – Johnson Ogle!”

Tim sat down to much applause.

“But I – ” Johnson glared accusingly at Ollie. “You should have told me!”

“Then I wouldn’t have had a free lunch.”

Johnson then looked at Murray who threw up his hands. “Nor me.”

Johnson pretended to be hurt but secretly was rather pleased. In his world any attention was better than being ignored, any prize better than nothing.

Ollie came back to the mews to find Auntie Em outside his house. In one hand she held a tray on which were three small bowls covered with clingfilm. With the other she knocked on his door.

Ollie ran up and took the precariously wobbling tray from her, “Here let me.”

“I was just going to put these in your fridge,” Auntie Em said taking one of the bowls from the tray.

“Good day?” he asked.

“Wonderful angel although,” Auntie Em gestured to the bowls that were filled with blackberries, “these will be the last I fear.”

She left a bowl on Ollie’s doorstep before crossing to the house opposite. Nicky’s door opened after a single knock.

“For you sweetness,” Auntie Em handed her offering to the photographer.

“Mmmmm!”

“There’s something rather satisfying about picking your own food isn’t there?”

“The old hunter/gatherer instinct?” Ollie wasn’t so sure. “I think it would pall if you had to do it everyday.”

“I’m quite happy with the exchange system – you know, ‘I give you money you give me what I want’,” Nicky said.

“I’m not talking about the basics, – pulling up potatoes, cropping cabbages – ”

“You don’t like cabbage Auntie Em.”

“ – harvesting beans – ”

“Or beans,” Ollie reminded her.

“Work with me here angel,” she paused. “But the yummy stuff, picking berries, finding scallops on the beach, fishing for salmon. That I would find rewarding you know?”

“Perhaps,” Ollie said half-heartedly.

“Still the ideal is having Mr Christians deliver isn’t it?”

“You’re not wrong there.” Nicky looked at the single remaining bowl on the tray, “Is that for Rion?”

“It would be greedy to have
two
sweetness.”

“No, I mean is she in?”

Auntie Em looked at Ollie who shrugged his shoulders. “There was no answer when I knocked at about one o’ clock,” he said.

“I knocked yesterday afternoon but she must have been out,” Nicky said.

“She would have been sleeping it off after her night out with our boy here.”

Puzzled by the remark Ollie looked at Auntie Em. “She wasn’t out with me. I haven’t seen her since Friday night,” he went on. “I left her waiting for Nicky at Primrose Hill.”

“But you didn’t go back did you sweetness?”

“You know I didn’t Auntie Em,” Nicky replied.

Emma looked worried. “So you both haven’t seen her since Friday night?”

“No,” they said in unison.

Ollie ran over to the door of lA at the entrance to the mews. “Rion!” he shouted before giving the front door three sharp knocks.

When there was no reply Auntie Em took the spare key from the large metal key chain and let herself in.

“Rion?” she called up, “it’s only us.” Followed by Ollie and Nicky she went up the stairs into the empty sitting room. Everything looked untouched since Friday. The door to the bedroom was closed. “Rion?” she called again cheerily. Auntie Em put the bowl of blackberries in the fridge before approaching the closed bedroom door. “Rion?”

Ollie and Nicky hung back as Emma knocked on the door then entered. The bedroom was as empty as the rest of the house.

“It doesn’t look like the bed’s been slept in,” Nicky said.

“Where else could she be?” Auntie Em wondered.

Ollie looked around the small room, “I know she had plans to visit Jake yesterday.”

“Let’s see if she turned up. If not – ” Auntie Em didn’t allow herself to think of what might have happened. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it shall we?” she said hastily.

Ollie immediately went outside to phone St Mary’s. When he came back up his face said it all. “We’re going to have to cross that bridge Auntie Em,” he said. “She never showed up yesterday.”

Rion felt dreadful. She had a splitting headache and was chilled to the bone. She thought twice about opening her eyes not knowing what she’d find before them. So many times she’d awoken recently to find the oddest things going on.
People approaching her, stroking her hair and saying, “She’s perfect, just perfect.”

She could remember walking with Gorby down the canal after the fireworks and then waking up restrained on a boat, she had some dim memory of seeing Hum’s face at the porthole, of some peculiar long swords, of being taken on the boat somewhere at night, hurried through darkness, the whistle of a train – and now where was she?

It had all seemed like a dream yet she had felt very much awake throughout – very much awake but unable to talk, unable to move.

She remembered repeatedly trying to pinch herself yet found she couldn’t. However now she tried and could definitely feel her fingers on the top of her wrist. What’s more her hands weren’t restrained and, she moved her legs, nor were her feet.

Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe this time when she opened her eyes she would find herself with her new family in Meanwhile Gardens Mews. She would be lying on her bed with the window wide open – that must be why she was so cold.

Realising she couldn’t wait any longer, Rion slowly opened her eyes.

She found herself in a small enclosed space that at first glance appeared to be a bricked in railway arch. In front of her metal bars ran from floor to vaulted ceiling, separating Rion from the front of the chamber. Directly opposite, on the other side of the bars, a dusty, highbacked chair faced her. The whole space had a sacrosanct, almost ghostly feel to it. This effect was increased by the lone candle flickering in an alcove by the enormous iron door, which, for some reason, had a peephole in it looking out.

This last bit of information confused her. If she was in
prison surely the peephole would be outside looking in?

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom Rion could see the elaborate chair was covered in what once must have been expensive, dark green velvet. Dulled silver studs formed a pattern on the seatback. To one side and behind her was a wall, the bricks had long ago lost their red warmth and were now a cold, grimy grey. A fine mesh grille separated Rion from the other part of the rear chamber so that, in all, she was caged in a quarter of the damp space. On the other side of this finer mesh large boxes had been piled up on evenly spaced shelves that rose to the ceiling.

So she was in a railway storage arch, perhaps beneath a station – that was clear – but what was she doing here? And how was she going to escape? She listened for the rumble of trains but couldn’t hear any.

Everything was deeply silent.

“A
nd you say she was homeless?” Inspector Devine asked, his pen poised over his notebook.

Auntie Em nodded, “Before she came here she was anyway. She slept rough in the cemetery.”

“Rion had family in Bridlington I think,” Ollie added.

“So she was a runaway?”

Ollie exchanged a glance with Auntie Em and Nicky realising how that made it sound. “Well – ”

“Did you also say she was sixteen?”

“And a half,” Ollie added helpfully.

The inspector closed the notepad with a deft flick of the wrist. “Emma,” he began before correcting himself, “Ms Nelson. In our experience we’ve found that most of these teenage runaways return home.”

“Unless they’re captured by darker forces first,” Nicky said indignantly.

“She wasn’t hanging around Kings Cross was she?”

“Not that I know of,” Nicky admitted.

“Or the amusement arcades in Soho?”

Nicky shook her head.

Inspector Devine sighed. “We haven’t much to go on at this stage. I’ll put the word out, we’ll try and locate her parents and if she hasn’t turned up by the end of the week
we’ll go from there. Have you a likeness of her?”