Paranormal Investigations: No Situation Too Strange (9 page)

I waited for almost everyone to leave and then went and stood under the hand dryer in the ladies, thankfully I managed to find one that wasn't a Dyson.  Dyson - a great inventor, but he never thought about women needing to dry off from the rain when he designed his energy efficient hand dryer.

Looking a little bedraggled, still shivering slightly and generally feeling less than gorgeous I trudged around to the stage door where Jez had told me to meet him.  This was a bad idea that was now a whole lot worse.  The wet look worked on some people, normally hot men with white shirts, not on me in a new satin dress.  I did debate just going home, but I knew that would offend Jez.  Better he saw me looking like a freak than think I hadn't cared enough to come.  It was his first night after all.

The reception area by the stage door was really busy.  I gave my name to the stage door keeper and loitered by the door.  It was kind of satisfying that when Jez came through he made straight for me and ignored all the other people who wanted his attention and time.  It made me feel rather smug.

Did I say he looked gorgeous?  His eyes twinkled as he looked at me and parts of me twinkled in response.  His eyes looked me up and down and then he burst into laughter.

"Thanks," I said.

"You really shouldn't have made such an effort, Leo."

"Arse to you to Hollywood."

He was still laughing as he showed me through the hallowed stage door and into the inner sanctum of the theatre.

"There's a party in the bar," he said as he took my hand, "we don't have to stay long though."

Oh shit - what did that mean?  Why did mean always have to talk in twisted tales?  How was I meant to interpret and respond to that?  Why was he holding my hand?

I would have got lost down all the corridors without him to guide me.  He took me up to the backstage bar, a large room heavy wooded in decor.  It was full of people, I recognised some of the actors from the play and the techies were distinctive in their blacks.

"Let me get you a drink," Jez said and left me for a moment.  I watched as other people's eyes followed him, male as well as female.  He picked up a couple of glasses of champagne and was back shortly.

"None of your family here?" I asked, "Your big night and everything?"

"Mum's allergic to Shakespeare and my brother still thinks I'm a twat for having such a namby pamby career."

"Well - he has a point."

"He still thinks it means I'm in the closet."

"He's seen your Liza and Dolly collection."

Jez laughed.  How many men would allow an ex to poke fun at their masculinity?

I couldn't have Jez all to myself, he had to meet the angels and so I got pulled around on his arm.  It wasn't a bad thing to be pulled around on the arm of a Hollywood movie star - I mean there are plenty of things worse.  Like having to live with a goat, for example, and keep a troll in mangoes.

I drank the champagne far too quickly and it hit an empty stomach.  This made it much easier to smile at strangers and I even managed to engage in some mild conversation.  When people talked about the play I put on my serious look and 'ummed' and 'ahed' with much vigorous nodding.  When pressed I suggested it was a 'bold' production which always works in making you sound intelligent and confounding people as to what to say in response.  I think I said a lot more, but the booze had really kicked in by then so I have no idea what I said exactly.

The last group of angels we were introduced to consisted of a very tall, handsome man in a suit and open necked shirt, an Asian woman in designer glasses and a short, round, red-faced, bald man.  They were the ones who had put in the most money and part of their reward was to schmooze with the star.  Oh, and the girl hanging off his arm because she was a bit tipsy and her heels were too high to let him go even for a second even if she wanted to.

They smiled and proffered their hands for shaking.  The woman and the fat man weren't interested in me and didn't offer their hands.  They then angled their bodies away from me and spoke wholly to Jez.  The other man, the one in the open necked shirt was different.  He offered me his hand and held it longer than one needed to for a hand shake.

"Ignore them," he said in a pleasing voice, confident we were not being overheard "they are only in this for the opportunity to drop names at their next cocktail party."

"And you?"

He smiled.  "I’m an angel."

“Yeah, I know that,” I indicated the others, “you all are.  But why?”

“I like meeting new people.”

“Well, there’s a Hollywood star not two metres away and you’re talking to me.”

“Maybe I want to talk to you.  Maybe I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

I glanced at Jez, he was enthralling his two angels and had them absorbed in some tale of when his trousers got ripped off during a stunt.  I couldn't tell which of them was enjoying picturing Jez naked more, the man or the woman.  I had an advantage - I could use memory instead of imagination.  There was a smile on my face I admit.

"They'll be a while," the man said to me, "shall we go to the bar?"

I caught Jez’s eye.  He gave me a brief nod without pausing in his story.  I shrugged and looked at the angel, "Might as well."

"Rex Windsor," he said as he gave me his arm and we walked the short distance to the bar.

"Leo Fey," I replied.

He took my hand.  “I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance.  Well Miss Fey, do you come to the theatre regularly?"

He gestured to the barman which had the effect of two glasses of champagne appearing within seconds.  I didn't really like champagne, but when it was free it seemed churlish to refuse.

"I only come when the tickets are free."

I sat on a bar stool and firmly placed my elbow on the bar for support.  Rex stood and appraised me with his eyes.  It was a little weird having a stranger looking at you in this way - it was too familiar, like the way a lover looks at you in the early days when there is still the mystery of what is to come.

As he was looking at me I decided I would look at him in great detail as well.  He was in his forties with brown hair and traces of grey nudging in at the temples.  He was handsome and magnetic.  I wondered why the other women at the party didn't seem to notice him, he was dripping charisma which thankfully I was immune to as I already had a rather gorgeous man I was keeping tabs on.

"What do you do then, if this isn't your life?" he asked politely.

"Oh, international playgirl, that's me - one day Monaco, the next Bel Air.  And you?"

"I make loans and investments."

"Like in worthy theatrical causes."

He took a small sip of champagne to my glug.  "Something like that."

A hand slipped through my arm, Jez smiled at me.

"I'll grab my coat and then we can go."

I smiled and felt rather weak at the knees as he went off for his coat.  I nodded to Rex.  "Nice to meet you Mr Windsor."

"And you Miss Fey.  Finally."

I smiled politely at him and then caught Jez's eye.

"Good night, Mr Windsor."

I noticed he watched me with a bemused look as I left, as if he thought me a real novelty.  To be honest in the state I was, compared to the preened beauties of the stage, I probably was a novelty - and not a good one.

Jez took my hand again and led me through the backstage area back to the stage door entrance. 

"Let's get out of here," he said, "I've had quite enough of being told how marvellous I am for one evening."

As soon as he opened the stage door the cold hit us.  I shivered, patches of my dress were still damp.

"Here," he said and passed me a large, thick jumper, "I left it here in my dressing room last week - I knew it had to be for a reason."

I slipped the jumper on gratefully and felt insulated against the cold and very, very cosy.

"Shall we walk along the river?" he suggested and I nodded, slipping my hand through his arm.

It may have been a weekday night, but the south bank was still heaving with people.  We walked down to the Thames and stood looking across the river.  Is there anything more beautiful than London by night?  There was no need for us to speak, we walked side by side admiring the city we both loved.

We crossed the river at Waterloo Bridge and stood looking over towards Westminster.  On our left the London Eye was illuminated a blue-purple and on the right the Palace of Westminster a golden yellow.  Party boats were cruising the river.

"Leo..." he said and I turned towards him.

My cheeks were cold and a breeze was numbing them.  My eyes quizzed him. 

He kissed me. 

The world stopped.  The water beneath our feet stopped flowing, Big Ben halted in a tick.  The sounds of the river dimmed and blurred.  Goats, trolls and all that shit didn't matter any longer.  My lips met his in an eager conversation they could not speak but were eager to elucidate on.  His hands wrapped around me and I entwined myself around his neck.

Then my fucking phone rang.  Loudly.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ghost Busters

I did try to ignore the phone at first, but I had set it to ring really loudly and it was pretty hard to ignore something that could have raised the walls of Jericho.  Jez tried to ignore it as well, unfortunately I had also set it to vibrate and it was buzzing madly in my bag which was somehow trapped between us in our embrace.  Then we had to pull apart as my phone was vibrating... well, you get the idea.  Not somewhere you want a phone vibrating.

Our lips parted and I noticed a small group of people were frowning at me for disturbing their peace.  I threw my Mary Poppins bag to the floor and began rummaging within for my phone.  I found everything but the phone and as soon as it stopped ringing when it went to voicemail it would begin ringing again.  Someone desperately wanted to get hold of me.

"I'm sorry Jez," I said, "I really need to take this - perils of working for yourself."

I tried to follow the buzz and finally tracked it down only for it to stop ringing.  I was pressing a button to find out who had tried to call me when it rang again.

"Hello, Paranormal..."

“I can hear strange noises, Leo.”

Bob.

I smiled apologetically at Jez and turned my back to try and put some privacy in the conversation.

"What do you mean by strange noises?”

“Noises that are strange.”

“That’s helpful.  What does Trevor think?”

“He’s not here.  He’s still annoyed with you.”

“Perhaps he’s in the culvert.”

“But that’s outside.  If I go outside they’ll get me…”

“You don’t know there’s anyone there at the moment.”

“But if there is… Please come home, Leo.”

I looked round at Jez who was leaning on the side of the bridge looking out at the river.  "It's kind of awkward right now."

"Please!"

"Okay, okay.  I’ll be there as soon as I can."

I hung up the call and looked apologetically at Jez.  "I'm sorry," I said, "it's a job I'm on at the moment."

He turned and looked at me.  "Maybe it's for the best, eh?"

What?  What the...

"Yeah," I said coolly, "for the best.  Well, I've dragged you away from your party for nothing."

"I'll walk you to Waterloo."

"No need."

"It's late and dark."

I looked at him with angry eyes.  "I was fine when you fucked off to America and I'll be fine now."

"You told me to go!"

"Like it would have made any difference if I'd asked you to stay!"

"How would you know?  You never asked me."

My lips began to form a word - I just didn't know what I wanted to say yet.  I screamed a frustrated 'oh' and marched off down the bridge.

"Fine!" he called after me, "Walk away like you do every time things get a little bit too deep."

"Blah, blah, blah!" was my witty reply as I continued my march.

It was late and it was dark, but I think my furious stomping would have deterred any would-be assailants.  They would have been mad to try and assault someone in a mood as foul as I was.  That and I had a fork in my pocket.

If it was 'for the best' that we were interrupted, then why did he kiss me in the first place?  And why did he seem to enjoy it so much?  Maybe he had a girl in every port and I was his London stop over? 

It was only when I stopped my furious pace at Waterloo I realised my new shoes had rubbed my feet raw and they were a red and bloody mess.  All for nothing!  I stopped long enough to retrieve my old shoes from my Mary Poppins bag so I could change... they weren't there.  I must have left them on the bridge when I was searching for my phone.  I sighed, then slipped off the new shoes and walked to the escalator and down to the Northern line barefoot.  At least I was still warm in Jez's jumper.  It smelt of his aftershave... I loved that aftershave.