Trouble Brewing
Page 23
Calypso looked at him and knew she had no more arguments to offer. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d thrown him out. She’d rejected him. Sure, knowing he’d been with someone else hurt, but what did she expect? That he’d take a vow of celibacy? And she couldn’t kick him out now when she knew she couldn’t bear him to be with someone else. The only reasonable solution was to chain him to her bed so no other woman could ever put her dirty paws on him.
She moved toward him, draped her arms around his neck. “Okay, but if I even catch you looking sideways at anyone for a while, you’re history.”
“I didn’t think you were the jealous type.”
“I’m not, normally. And I think the freedom to flirt is essential, but I’m taking that freedom away from you until you prove yourself to me.”
“Babe, you can take it away for all eternity. There’s only one woman I want to be watching from now on.”
He leant down to kiss her, but she pulled back just before their lips touched.
“Let’s just hold off on any physical contact until the sting of where you’ve been this morning wears off.” She stepped away from him with a resigned grimace
“I’m not a complete slob. I did shower.”
“Perhaps you could have a disinfectant bath. I’m not big on sharing.”
“I’m sorry, Cal.”
“Shhh.” Calypso cut him off. “Look.”
Enid was floating above the bar, watching them.
“Oh great, the pervy ghost. Usually she shows up when we’re naked,” Taran whispered.
“I told you I’m watching you,” Enid hissed from the corner.
“Got that loud and clear.”
Enid’s vaporous form rushed toward him and hovered within an inch of his face, which immediately drained of all color. “One day you’ll thank me,” she screeched, and disappeared into thin air.
Taran and Calypso looked at each other, eyes wide.
“She’s creepy, man.”
“Yeah, she always scared me as a kid,” Calypso admitted. Something about Edith’s appearance had unsettled her.
Taran took Calypso’s hand in his. “Why do you think she’s keeping an eye on us?”
“No idea … but I have a feeling we’ll soon find out.”
Chapter Forty-one
“I only ever indulge for medicinal purposes. Fortunately I’m a raging hypochondriac.” Lady Jane Hurley
Nell watched as Julian inspected a piece she’d never seen before. His expression was serious, his head bent toward it. His hair kept flopping forward and he’d brush it back and continue the assessment. Nell wondered why he didn’t get a haircut, but then decided she liked it longer. She liked a lot about Julian.
He suddenly looked up and grinned. “Hello, Nell. Didn’t notice you there.”
Nell blushed. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not. Come and check this out.” He handed her a magnifying glass and made room for her at the table. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Nell hovered over the medallion. It was stunning. At first glance, handmade silver, probably, dated between the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. She held the magnifying glass over it and took in the finer details.
“It has a small loop of silver to show that it was once worn around someone’s neck. Yet it’s heavy, and the inscriptions point to it not being simply ornamental. Perhaps it was a talisman.”
“I’ve considered that but it’s unlike anything I’ve seen from that era.”
“Where did you get it?”
“This is from the estate of Lady Jane Hurley.”
Nell’s eye’s widened. “So it’s true, she did leave everything to the museum?”
“Not quite everything,” Julian said. “She left this to me.”
Nell was floored. “Julian, at the risk of sounding rude – why?”
Julian shrugged. “The museum got the rest of the collection. I got this.”
“Did you know her well?”
“I’d say we were friends.” His eyes misted over and it was obvious that they were.
“Was she really as strange as the press makes out?”
“Most people thought she was barking mad. I found her fascinating. We often met and discussed history. She had an amazing knowledge. The odd thing about this piece, though, is I’ve never seen it before. She introduced me to every single piece over the years. It was all carefully catalogued and kept. She took great care in making sure I knew the history of everything in her collection. But this … it was on her bedside cabinet when she died, with a note for me. No one can remember seeing it, ever. Apart from her lawyer, who’d drafted it into the will. I certainly have no idea where it comes from.” Julian motioned to the piece. “Turn it over.”
Nell gently turned the medallion and held it closer to the light. There was an inscription on the back.
“What does it say?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve had Niamh Wilson from the ancient languages and symbology department at Oxford check it out and even she has no idea what it means.”
“What did Lady Hurley’s note say?”
Julian motioned to an open letter on the desk. “It’s there. Read it.”
Nell unfolded the scented sheet of paper and scanned the shaky handwriting, and then read out loud: “‘Dearest Julian. I have left you a piece of the puzzle. I have reached the final chapter. Enjoy your own book. Forgive me for being so cryptic. Warmest regards, your friend, Lady Jane Hurley.’” Nell looked at Julian. “I think everyone was right. She was bonkers.”
“Perhaps. I never saw it. If she were crazy why does she apologize for being cryptic?” Julian shrugged. “She was always immaculate, perfectly groomed and manners were of the utmost importance to her. Hardly signs of a crazy woman.”
Nell stared at the medallion. It tugged at something deep inside her. But then, it’s why she loved history: you’re bound to remember some of it on some level.
She shook her head, breaking the spell the piece had over her. “It’s very strange, Julian. What will you do with it?”
“I’ll store it here until I gather more information on it – if I ever do.” Julian looked excited for a moment. “We can search for answers to this together, like detectives. Obviously not tough ones. More like Enid Blyton characters. How does that sound?”
Nell moved to the other side of the cubicle and shuffled a couple of books around. “That sounds like fun, Julian.” And it did … but …
“Anything bothering you, Nell?”
“No … no, nothing …”
“You’re a dreadful liar.”
“I am, yes.”
“Want to go for a beer?”
“That would be nice, but … ah … I should really discuss something with you first. Here, at work. It’s about work you see.” Nell tidied another couple of books. “The thing is – I’m not sure how to say this, Julian.”
“As much as I’d appreciate you tidying my whole desk, Nell, it’s best just to blurt it out. Just say, ‘Julian, I’m not happy here. I want to go back to the BMR.’”
“Julian, I’m not happy – how did you know?”
Julian shrugged. “Like I said, Nell, you’re easy to read, although I have no idea why.”
“I’m so sorry. I feel dreadful. You were kind enough to give me the job—”
Julian held a hand up. “Enough, Nell. Working in one’s dream job is such a rare and wonderful thing. I’m thrilled you have the opportunity. You deserve it.”
“I’ll stay here until you find a replacement.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“And …” Nell twisted her fingers together. “I was thinking … seeing as we won’t be working together any more … perhaps you’d like to have dinner with me … sometime.”
Julian broke into a large, toothy smile. “Wow, Nell, that would be grand.”
*
One hour later, Nell raced back into Percy’s office.
/> “Good lord, Nell, what’s happened?”
“Nothing, Percy, everything is fabulous.”
“Did you forget something?” Percy asked.
“Yes, I forgot to tell you that I want full pay and benefits.”
Percy broke out into a huge grin. “How wonderful. Now that you’ve sorted that mess out … what will we do with the Isabella and Richard Burton display?”
Chapter Forty-two
Gargle with vodka and warm water to sooth a sore throat. Swallowing is optional
Calypso woke and for a moment wondered where she was. That wasn’t unusual. She travelled so much that often it took some time to get her bearings. This morning though, she quickly realized it didn’t matter where she was (Taran’s room), or what country she was in (England, obviously), because Taran was wrapped around her.
It was a lovely way to wake up.
“Whadda you gotta do today?” came a mumble from somewhere around her neck.
“I’ve got a date with the Spanish Inquisition. I’ll experience some flaying, some stoning, a taste of disembowelment … and probably finish with some time on the rack.”
“Lunch with your grandmother, eh?”
“I bargained it down to just coffee. Lunch would include a full crucifixion.” Calypso rolled over and climbed on top of Taran. “Big day for you, mister.”
“Please don’t remind me until I’ve had caffeine.”
“All eyes will be on you tonight.”
Taran let out a deep breath. “Hopefully all eyes will be on my work.”
“Are you excited?”
“I’m more excited about you sitting on top of me at the moment.”
Calypso slipped her hand under the covers. “So that’s what they mean by rise and shine.”
Taran let out a deep groan and reached for her. Calypso slapped his hand away.
“You’ve got a huge … night tonight. You need to conserve your energy.” She leant down and whispered into his ear, “So you just shut your eyes, lie there and think about good reviews and accolades and art critics, while I do this …”
*
At the other end of the apartment, Megan took a moment to reenter her body before she opened her eyes. Simon was staring straight at her, assured and amused. He knew he sent her to places she’d never been before. They were a regular Lewis and Clarke in the bedroom, exploring new areas, new countries, completely new continents.
Simon traced a finger around her navel, which was still covered in a slight film of sweat. “So I was asking you if you wanted to keep the name the C Spot?”
“That was just before you hit my G spot. I missed what you said after that.” Megan rolled onto her stomach and stared up at her boyfriend. “I like the C Spot. And we can play on the name. The New C Spot.”
“The C Spot, discovered! Finally.” Simon laughed at his own joke.
Megan giggled, at his enthusiasm rather than his joke. “Stop by for a C Spot to eat.”
“Not bad, Meg, not bad.” Simon was on a roll now. “Sit, C Spot, Sit … Good dog.”
Megan groaned. “Thankfully you’re the business brain, not the main act.” She twirled one of the hairs on his chest. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Simon tilted her chin upwards, so he could look into her eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more. This life I’m building with you is so exciting.”
“But what if it fails?” Megan said.
“The business might fail, but we won’t.”
Megan nodded, and rested her head back on his chest. She inhaled his scent. She could hear his heart beating. Nothing else existed.
*
Batty was packing away her tarot cards and purifying the reading room when Alf scarpered in and shut the door.
What are you doing, Alf? Who’s looking after the bar?”
He held a finger to his lips. “Don’t jinx it. Empty in there, apart from Harry.” He marched over to her, and took her in his arms.
Batty’s eyes lit up. “Well, look who’s feeling better!”
“I saw you sweeping the stockroom earlier and thought, ‘I’ve got to get my hands on that woman by day’s end.’”
“It has been way too long, Alf.” A look of concern crossed her face. “We should speak to your doctor first.”
“Already have, Red. I called and said, ‘No time for an appointment. My wife’s sweeping the stockroom in slim-fitting slacks, doc. Today’s gotta be the day.’ Doc said he hopes he is as enthusiastic at my age. He gave us the green light.”
Batty beamed at her husband. “Old people sex. The poor thing was probably traumatized.”
“Not at all. We gave him something to aim for, love.” He ran his fingers through the curls he so adored. “What do you think we should do?”
“I think we should … do two things.” Batty gave her husband a sexy smile. “Firstly, I think we should stay at the Ritz tonight.”
Alf looked confused. “I don’t follow.”
“I’ve always wanted to stay at the Ritz, but never have. If there’s one thing I’ve realized lately, Alf, it’s that our whole lives revolve around the pub and our girls. And that’s fine. I love our life, but we need more. Just you and me, darling. So that’s the first thing. A suite at the Ritz.”
Alf let out a booming laugh. “Fine idea. Count me in. And the second thing?”
Batty winked at her husband as she pulled him toward her. “And here’s the second thing … the only thing, my love.”
*
Calypso made her way through the main bar and noticed Harry, propped up in his regular place. “Your glass is empty Harry. Where’s Dad?”
“No idea, Calypso. Everyone’s disappeared. I think that fox has come back and your dad is dealing with it. There are some strange sounds in the side room.”
“Would you like another cold one?”
“I’d be mighty grateful.”
Calypso slipped behind the bar and poured Harry a beer.
“Your dad’s looking much better now. Was bloody worried for a while.” Harry looked like he was about to burst into tears, but then suddenly perked up. “He tells me you’ve met someone. You might settle down.”
Calypso visibly blanched. “Yes, I’ve met someone, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to ‘settle’ down. I think Dad needs to halve his meds.”
“Settling and stagnating are two different things. Clear water will settle, Calypso – muddy water will stagnate … remember that.”
Calypso nodded, but didn’t look sold. Harry was hardly Plato. As much as she adored the old guy, and felt for him since his wife passed away, he wasn’t exactly a shining example of how to live one’s life. Harry had been stagnating up against the bar for years.
Harry watched Calypso carefully over the rim of his glass. “I wasn’t so different to you, lass. I wanted freedom when I was young. That’s why I went away to sea. But loving, truly loving … That’s the ultimate freedom. Everything else is just fear, and that’s what ties you down.”
Calypso looked into Harry’s creased old face. Poor bugger was obviously pining into his pint. “You must miss Nancy so much.”
“That I do.” Harry stared at the beer for a moment, but then perked up. “But I’ve met a lovely lady. Peg’s her name. Quite a cracker. Makes me laugh and laugh.”
Calypso stared at Harry, totally at a loss for words. Harry’s eyes twinkled and he gave her a cheeky smile.
“It was one helluva romance, but Nancy died, darlin’, not me.” A pause, and then, “At my age, you can’t take death too seriously.”
Chapter Forty-three
The juniper berries in gin relieve menstrual bloating
Calypso glanced at her phone for the third time in five minutes.
“Are you expecting a call?”
“Just checking the time.”
Nell grabbed the phone from her sister. “Turn that thing off. And be nice.”
Calypso leant back in her chair and surveyed the room. It was dim, with thick dr
apes, heavy furniture and a lifeless energy, which meant it was always empty. Calypso wondered how it stayed in business. Her grandmother and her cronies seemed to be the café’s sole clientele. “I hope you told Gran to be nice to me too.”
Nell reached across the table and took her sister’s hand. “It’s one coffee, Callie. When did you last spend time with her?”
“I saw her for her birthday,” Calypso huffed.
“Over a year ago. You completely forgot her last one.”
A wave of shame washed over Calypso. “Okay, I’m a dreadful granddaughter, but it’s not like she’s that fond of me. You’re the favorite.”
Nell didn’t argue. It was true. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you.” Then Nell added, with uncharacteristic bitterness, “You’re in her will.”
Calypso felt heat rise up her cheeks, as it always did on the rare occasion that Nell mentioned, even inadvertently, Granny Emma’s will. Calypso would never be comfortable with inheriting everything. Nor would she ever understand why she did. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Adelein sent you a message.”
“Adelein of St Nectan’s?”
“No, Adelein of Clapham.”
Nell looked completely baffled. “Why would the Faun send me a message? What did he say?”
“Your inheritance is coming. Something about the missing piece of the puzzle.”
“Huh?”
He kept saying Cane Cata Juel.”
“Do fauns drink?”
“They eat a lot of mushrooms.”
Nell clapped a hand over her mouth. “You don’t think it means Gran is about to die, do you?”
Calypso shook her head. “You’ll inherit property and money off her. Those things aren’t important to wood folk. He would only pass on a message he felt was of great importance from his perspective.”
“What do you think it means?”
Calypso noticed Eleanor entering the café. “No idea, but let’s ask Gran. You know she loves hearing about our Fey friends.”
“You’re awful, Callie.” Nell giggled.