Joe opened the pad on the small table below the make-up mirror.
Mel gasped. “O. M. G. Alejo, that’s so cool!”
“Do you recognise that model?” Alejandro pointed at himself. “Me and my big mouth!”
“This one on Mel looks…looks solidly zombie-ish, but that’s great!” Joe nudged him. “Wouldn’t you get a Best Make-Up Award with this other design?”
“Well…” He rested his elbow on Joe’s shoulder and looked at Mel’s reflection. “What do you think, Lady Zombie? I think Joe is trying to say, without saying it, that this is maybe a bit dull?”
“Well, darling, Sergeant Joe would be right!” Mel winked at Joe in the mirror. “Please do the scary wide mouth one, Alejo! Your Insta followers will love it!”
“I’d like to but…” He turned, looking at Joe as though hoping for an answer to an unspoken question. “This design that you’re wearing…it’s Zak’s. He has a very strong vision, I don’t think he wants me to do any imagining, just to paint his vision by numbers. I don’t think he’d like me to go too far away from this but honestly, it’s not going to win any prizes. It’s just a bit…” He winked. “Generic.”
“No, Zak won’t win a reward for generic,” Mel agreed. “But this design here that Joe’s found…just give it a go. And if he doesn’t like it, he’s a wanker, darling.”
“It’s a worth a try, isn’t it?” Joe asked. “And if he doesn’t like it, well, nothing wrong with you doing a test if you want. You’ve been doing makeup since you were a child. You’re not going to let someone you’ve known six months tell you what to do.” Joe picked up one of the brushes and ran its soft bristles across the back of his hand. “Even if you’ve only known me two days, and I’m telling you what to do as well!”
“Yeah, you are. But you are James Bond.” Alejandro laughed. “I suppose it won’t hurt, if we get lots of photos of them anyway. Then Zak can choose his favourite. He might even appreciate the extra effort!”
“Yeah, I am James Bond!” Joe raised his eyebrow, Bond-style. “Shall I take a photo of you and Mel for Insta? Or are the designs under wraps?”
“Zak would literally kill me if I put this online, but we need photos for us.” He put his arm around Joe’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “I want you in them too, Sergeant, because I need pictures of that jacket if I’m going to make a copy.”
Literally kill Alejo?
Joe was definitely looking more into Zak’s background. Alejandro was surely exaggerating, but Joe wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. And that arm around his shoulder… Alejandro was warming to him, at least. Which made his job easier. “You want me in the photos too? Yeah, don’t put them on Insta, or Wendy’ll ring up and shout at you too!”
So Alejandro balanced his phone on the table and set the timer, then marshalled Joe and Mel into the frame, the generic if well-painted zombie settled in between the two men. It was certainly a better day than yesterday, if not exactly the usual duties a CPO should expect. But it was all the more exhilarating for it.
Once the photo was taken, Mel reached for the tissues and makeup remover. “Let’s get the exciting zombie makeup on, Alejo!”
“No, no, wait!” He held up his hand. “I need to get more pictures for Zak, he wants to see close-ups, textures. Two minutes, then you can clean off. There’s olive oil in the shower room if the paint’s too stubborn.”
Olive oil? It’s another world.
“Mr DeMille wants to do his close-ups!” Mel laughed. Alejandro snatched up his phone and went to work, snapping pictures of his model from every conceivable angle, then photographing the palettes and colours he had used to create it too.
Joe didn’t like the panic that had been in Alejandro’s voice when Mel had tried to take the make-up off. He wandered off into a corner and tapped out a quick email on his phone to Patrick.
Commander – concern re Peanut’s boyfriend, Zak Smythe-Unwin. History of dv with other partners? Also reports of class A drug use. Also - Peanut has a friend not mentioned in the file – Lady Melanie, daughter of the Earl of Southampton. Please background check. JW.
“Okay, Lady M, you may wash!” Alejandro declared. “Another cuppa, I think!”
“I can go and grab some sandwiches if anyone wants them?” Mel suggested. “I could even go like this—we are in Camden. No one’d think it’s weird!”
“That’s all right, isn’t it?” Alejandro looked to Joe. “Mel can go and get us something if we stay here?”
“I’ve got one of those alarm thingies, too.” Mel mimed pressing it.
Joe weighed up their options. Having someone deliver the sandwiches opened up the risk to the troll finding out where Alejandro’s studio was.
“Okay, it should be fine. Although best to take the makeup off first. And keep to busy roads. Definitely no shortcuts along the canal.” His voice softer, Joe added, “I don’t mean to scare you, but we have to be cautious at the moment.”
Mel nodded as she started to clean off the makeup. “I won’t let them hurt my friend.”
“It’s a little thing, really.” Alejandro busied himself at the makeup table, tidying and organising. “Just if Zak asks, Mel, I didn’t have a sandwich. He’s avoiding carbs and he’s asked me to support him on his journey. But can you get me some crisps too, sweetie?”
The thought of Alejandro hiding his sandwich from his boyfriend made Joe want to head out and get fish and chips for the three of them.
“Yeah, of course,” Mel replied. “Any other requests? Sergeant Joe?”
“Ham’s fine, but I’m happy with anything, really.”
“Can I have piles and piles and piles of cheese?” Alejandro asked. He reached into his pocket and produced a twenty-pound note. “And big thick wedges of bread!”
Once Mel had gone, Joe and Alejandro were alone. It felt awkward now that Mel wasn’t there and Joe suspected why.
“Look, honestly, in case it’s bothering you, I didn’t have an affair with your mum. She’s great, but there’s rules. No hanky-panky!” Joe chuckled. “And…she’s not my type.”
“She’s the most beautiful woman in the world over fifty. It must be true, Vogue said it.” Alejandro turned to look at Joe, a rather mischievous look on his face. “I don’t think you had an affair with Mamá because guess what, you’re not her type either. She prefers a less…” He paused, searching for the word, but Joe suspected it might not be too complimentary when he found it. “Well, Mamá’s never been one for muscles.”
“True. She did marry the Duke of Albany!” Joe laughed. Phew. Playfully, he raised his arm, flexing his biceps. The leather jacket bulged just a little. “He’s not known for going to the gym.”
“Oh my God!” Alejandro clapped his hands together. “Can I touch it? Just a little squeeze?”
He thinks I’m straight. It’s fine.
“Go on, then.” Joe flexed his arm again. Alejandro practically trotted across the studio, flexing his fingers excitedly, as though he were about to unwrap a present. Upon reaching Joe he took a deep breath then, with great care, he wrapped his hand around Joe’s arm and squeezed, giving a shriek of excited appreciation.
Suddenly bashful, Joe laughed. “Can’t say that happens very often!” He flexed again, while his biceps was under Alejandro’s hand. Don’t think about how pretty he is. Not that I was.
“My God!” He’s a wind-up merchant, Joe reminded himself, trying everything he can to embarrass the straight man copper. “No wonder your wife wants to keep an eye on you. I bet you can be a player, Sergeant, can’t you? Wild nights in exotic places?”
“No, I’m very well behaved.” Joe flexed again. Paloma had been a one-off in five arid years. A moment of madness when he had allowed himself to believe that his life could be his own. “I’m not really James Bond.”
“Do you have children?” Alejandro withdrew his hand and blinked up at Joe. “You probably aren’t allowed to tell me. Just…if you do, don’t ever send them away to school.�
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Joe shook his head. “I don’t have any. But if I did…no, I wouldn’t send them away to school. And if it means anything, if I’d been at that school with you, I would’ve sorted out those bloody Hooray Henrys for you.”
“I bet you would too.” He smiled, a little rueful. “I’ll talk to Zak, but he won’t listen. And your arms are better than his, just so you know.”
“You have to be careful. There could even be a risk with his dealer, for instance. And…” Joe stared off at an elaborate Venetian-style mask, decked with ribbon and painted in swirls. “And it worries me that you seem afraid of him. Could he be your troll, Alejandro?”
“No, because he doesn’t need to hide to be cruel.” Alejandro shook his head, but he kept his dark gaze on Joe. It was a damning conclusion on the man he was supposed to care for. “Have you ever—I bet you haven’t—but have you ever made a mistake and then you just have to live with it? Not Leviticus, I don’t mean that, but— Sorry, I’m just being silly.”
Joe wasn’t sure if he should answer. But it was true, he had. “Well, yeah, I have.” I should’ve asked Paloma for her number. “More than one, actually.”
“Does it get better?”
He knows.
Was that overheard phone call enough for Alejandro to realise? “Doesn’t look like it, I’m afraid.”
Alejandro nodded. “Maybe he’ll like the makeup. He’s lovely when he’s not high. Nicer, anyway.”
Joe sighed. “Funny how he doesn’t want to do carbs, but is quite happy sticking all that toot up his nose! I’m not sure that potatoes are the problem where he’s concerned.”
“You’re annoyingly easy to like, you know.” Alejandro made a fist and lightly knocked it against Joe’s shoulder. “Stop being easy to like and having those arms!”
“I have experience when it comes to Spanish divas.” Joe winked. “You know, I used to hear your mum on the phone to you. There was always a definite pattern. She’d start all happy and soft, then she’d start to get annoyed, then she’d be in a rage, then she’d get tears in her eyes and she’d blow kisses down the phone. I’d always wonder what you’d been getting up to, though perhaps I daren’t ask!”
“I’ve always been an angel.” He quirked one of his immaculate eyebrows. “Whatever you might have heard. I’m just an angel who likes cheese sandwiches!”
As if on cue, Mel arrived with their lunch. “Sarnies! Hop to it, chaps!”
Lunch was dispatched with fairly soon, although Joe couldn’t miss the look of joy and the noises of delight made by Alejandro as he munched his way through his contraband carbs. Once all the crumbs had been cleared away, Mel returned to the makeup chair and Alejandro worked his spell again. Joe kept half an eye on the door, but his attention kept drifting towards what Alejandro was achieving. Seeing the design in the sketchbook was one thing, but seeing it in the flesh was something else. A riot of neon and a cartoonish style, with that huge mouth that extended down to Mel’s chest by the magic of makeup and body paint. Alejandro had created something unique. Still a zombie, only his kind of zombie. There was nothing generic about that.
“Okay!” Alejandro seemed so alive as he put down the last brush, fired up with enthusiasm for what he’d created. “Sergeant, Lady M, verdicts, please. Brutal as you like, I’m ready!”
“Fantastic!” Joe said.
Mel’s actual mouth hung open under the makeup. “I’ve never seen anything this cool before in my life.”
“It’s better, isn’t it?” He tapped his finger to his lips. “Zak must like it, right? Let’s get some photos!”
So they went through the ritual again, the group photos, the close-ups, the record of paints and brushes and mixed colours that had gone into this neon nightmare. Yet Joe couldn’t help but suspect that it was all going to end in tears, because Zak didn’t seem like the sort of man who would want to share the limelight.
I just hope I’m wrong.
As Mel took photos of her own, Alejandro sat down at a laptop and crafted what seemed to be a very carefully constructed message to Zak, attaching the photos of his endeavours. Only when that was done did he declare, “This has been my best day in ages!”
Joe snapped round to look at Alejandro’s phone as it buzzed with an incoming message. “Do you want me to look?” His reply was a nod, but Alejandro’s smile had already disappeared into a grimace.
Joe picked up the phone. At least it wasn’t the troll. They presumably hadn’t got Alejandro’s number. “It’s from Zak. He says ‘I’m coming over’. Not a man of many words, is he?”
“Oh God.” Alejandro rose from his seat. “I shouldn’t have done that second paint. He told me what he wanted and it wasn’t that, he wanted what I did first.”
Mel grimaced at Joe. Then she told Alejandro, “Maybe it’s not my business, but your boyfriend shouldn’t be stifling your creativity.”
“He’s going to go nuts.” He paced the studio, filled with nervous energy. “Would you mind keeping the paint on, Mel? If he sees it in the flesh— I mean, it is pretty amazing, isn’t it? It is, isn’t it, Joe?”
“Yes, it’s—I’ve never seen anything like it!” Joe headed over to the kettle. “I’ll put a brew on. He’ll be fine with a cup of tea in him.”
At that moment the studio shook. It was only a train passing overhead but all Joe could think of was Jack and the Beanstalk as the giant’s footsteps heralded his advance.
“I’m coming over.” Alejandro reread the text. “He’s furious, I can tell. And he should be, shouldn’t he? Because he asked me to do a thing and I did something else. I trampled all over his vision!”
Mel rushed over and hugged Alejandro. “You took his vision and made it way more badass! If he wants generic zombies, he didn’t ask the right person.”
“Do you think?” He returned her hug, clinging to her.
“Yes! I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t mean it.” Mel ruffled his hair. “You’re so talented. I love being your model, I never know what you’ll come up with next!”
“Wait until he sees you—he’s going to love it.” He grinned. “Sergeant Joe does!”
Joe laughed. “I still can’t quite believe that the Earl of Southampton’s daughter is under there.”
“Will you let me paint you one day?” Alejandro asked. “Say yes!”
“Erm…if you’d like to.” At least that was one way of keeping busy on the job. “What would you turn me into?”
“What would you like to be? Consider me yours to command.” He looked Joe up and down, teasing. “You’re already James Bond.”
“Blofeld’s cat!” Mel cackled.
“Probably not,” Joe replied. “Although interesting suggestion. How about… I saw a photo once of someone who’s makeup made them look like a pop art cartoon. Dots all over their face. Can you do that?”
“Oh, in my sleep.” Alejandro laughed. “Tomorrow?”
“Do it, go on, Sergeant Joe!” Mel clapped her hands. “And if the troll turns up, you can chase after them in full makeup. It’d be a-amazing!”
“Well, why not?” Joe said. Alejandro gave a squeal of excitement and threw his arms around Joe’s neck, just for a moment. Joe hugged him back, then awkwardly dropped his arms. “Sorry. Everyone’s getting carried away!”
Alejandro laughed, his sparkling gaze settling on Joe’s. Joe raised his hand again, about to touch Alejandro’s cheek, when a heavy knock fell against the door. Joe was on the alert at once, especially when a hoarse voice bellowed, “Open the fucking door!”
As though someone had touched him with a hot brand, Alejandro leapt back and gasped, “Oh no!” He looked at the door, then at Joe, then back at the door. “I shouldn’t have done that second paint.”
“Zak?” Joe looked for the answer in Alejandro’s eyes. “You know the drill. I’ll open the door.”
He nodded, wringing his hands together. Then he looked to Mel and mouthed, “Help.”
“Open up, Al!” Zak yelled.
Joe peered through the frosted glass, trying to match the figure outside to the man in the folder. It appeared to be him. Alas.
Joe opened the door a fraction. “Hi, there. And you are…?”
“Oh, look, it’s James Bond!” Zak smirked. “I’m Zak. You’re holding my boyfriend hostage. Let me in.”
Zak shoved against the door and, apparently forgetting that Joe was there, strode across the room to Alejandro.
“My vision, you absolute tool! What’s all this?” He gestured at Mel’s face. “The fuck is that?”
“Just—” He gave a weak smile, the flamboyant young man gone. “I thought you might like to see another option?”
“Why?” Zak threw out his hands, sneering. “Why would I want to?” He pressed his fingertips to his brow, as if he were fending off a headache. “It’s my artistic vision, Al! And what have you done? You’ve given me a posh bird going to a crap Halloween rave! Fuck’s sake!”
Mel pouted. That at least was visible despite the makeup.
“Imagine it under a black light, we could use ultraviolet. It’d pop!” Alejandro managed a smile, a child eager to please.
“Pop? I didn’t want fucking pop, did I!” Zak slammed his fist down on a table, and Joe advanced.
“Hey. None of that,” he warned.
“Who the fuck are you anyway? Another of these police dickheads who follow Al about?”
Joe pressed his lips together and took a moment before replying. “It’s unwise, Mr Smythe-Unwin, to insult a police officer, even if it’s not illegal. I am Mr Fuente’s CPO.”
Zak looked him up and down. Assessing, dismissing. And sneering again. “I can protect my fucking boyfriend, thank you very much. Can’t I, Al?” He put his arm around Alejandro’s shoulders. Too tightly, Joe thought. Alejandro seemed to shrink in stature, his gaze beseeching before it fell away.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“So you can piss off, can’t you? Seeing as it’s not illegal to insult you.” Zak smirked, his arm around Alejandro even tighter. “I didn’t like seeing you in a photo with my boyfriend. Crossed a line, didn’t you? Is that illegal?”
The Reluctant Royal Page 7
