‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Your club is beautiful. I only wish my Mother could be here to welcome you herself, but she’s been taken down with gastroenteritis. The doctor has informed us she is not to leave the hotel room until she is better.’
‘And Mr Bailey?’
‘He’s caring for her.’
There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. Too friendly? Too sleazy? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
‘Please send her our get well wishes.’
‘I’m sorry, I said, ‘but I’m not sure who to say is wishing her well.’
He laughed. ‘Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself.’ He held out a hand. ‘I’m Barney Stilton, the manager of The Big Blue.’
Shaking Barney’s hand caused the opposite effect of what had happened to me that afternoon when Billy’s knee had touched mine. While that had made me want to get climb-onto-his-lap closer, this made me want to be in a different building.
I tried to hide the abhorrence on my face as I rescued my hand from his. He stared for a moment at my arm, a puzzled look on his face.
‘I’ll pass on your well wishes,’ I said, drawing his attention away from my tanning disaster. There was an awkward moment while I tried to get past him and he stood firmly in my way. ‘I’d better see how the girls are going,’ I finally said.
He smiled like a crocodile and moved to the side to let me past.
***
The girls looked magnificent as they danced and twirled in their sparkling costumes and fantastical head pieces. They were a huge hit, earning a standing ovation that had them re-doing the last bit twice before they could leave the stage.
‘Did you see us?’ Ronnie asked, holding a bunch of roses that had been presented to her. ‘It was like being in a Broadway Show.’
‘You were magnificent,’ I said. ‘Everyone get dressed. We’re going out to celebrate.’
I’m not sure what made me snoop around out the back. Perhaps it was the eekness I had gotten off Barney Stilton. Maybe it was a gut instinct. I guess I’ll never know. But while the girls were changing to go out, I decided to have a little sniff around the back offices.
I went through the connecting door and walked through the building as if it were the most natural thing in the world for me to be there. There weren’t many rooms, and all but one had their lights off and doors closed.
I approached the open door slowly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I mean what did I think I was doing? I stopped beside the door, torn between the urge to sprint back to the change rooms and the need to look. Then very slowly I peered around the door frame and into the room.
A blonde woman was slumped over a desk, her head turned away from me; one arm thrown around a huge vase of pink roses. My first thought, that she was dead – and I blame Tommy Tiger for that, was proved incorrect when she mumbled and turned her head to face me.
I froze in the doorway. She may have been blonde, but I would have known that profile anywhere.
‘Mum?’ I said, walking towards her. I put a hand on her shoulder and shook her. ‘Mum, wake up.’
She mumbled something that sounded like, ‘Go away.’
‘Mother,’ I said in a firm voice.
I couldn’t believe Martine and I had been risking our lives looking for her and now I find her asleep and – I leant forwards and smelt her breath – drunk out the back of the bar.
Had she escaped and come here to wait for us?
Had she changed her hair colour as a disguise?
Where was Trent?
So many unanswered questions, and so many wasted hours not making out with Billy.
I shook my head, wrestled her to her feet and wrapped one of her arms around my neck. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I’m taking you home.’
I stumbled down the hall with her partly walking and partly resisting me. ‘Stop,’ she said, looking up. ‘Who are you? Where are you taking me?’
Geez Louise. I added how much had she drunk to my list of questions. She’d reverted to her American accent. I’d never seen her do that when she’d been drinking before. Mind you, I’d never seen her drink this much before.
‘I’m your daughter. Come on,’ I said, dragging her towards the door, ‘I need to get you to bed.’
‘I don’t have a daughter,’ she slurred.
I left her sitting next to the connecting door and hurried into the change rooms where Martine was putting the finishing touches to her make-up.
‘You won’t bloody believe who I just found,’ I whispered.
She looked at me intently. ‘Trent?’
‘No. Even better – Mum.’
Grabbing her handbag, she followed me back out to the corridor.
‘Cripes.’ She squatted down next to Mum, who was snoring softly, put her hand under Mum’s chin and lifting up her head.
Mum snorted and flapped a hand at Martine’s. Her eyes flickered open and she peered up at us. ‘Who are you?’
‘What’s with the accent?’ Martine asked.
‘She’s drunk,’ I said, as if that explained anything.
‘Drunk or drugged?’ Martine asked.
‘I can smell alcohol on her breath.’
‘Maybe the drugs were in the alcohol.’
We managed to sneak Mum out through the back door to the alley without anyone seeing her. Martine went back in for our things and told the girls we’d meet them at Razzle Dazzle, the hip new club they’d been dying to check out. Then we caught a cab back to The Luxor.
We managed to get Mum into the elevator and up to her room without any incidents. I sat her on the edge of the bed and took her shoes off.
‘You lost your favourite toe ring,’ I said to her.
She stared at me with bleary eyes and then looked around the room. ‘Where am I?’
‘In your hotel room. Where’s Trent?’
‘Trent?’ Her eyes rolled up and she collapsed back onto the bed, immediately starting to snore.
‘Maybe she’s got a head injury,’ Martine said.
‘You think she’s got amnesia?’
‘It would explain a few things.’
A few, but not all. I rolled her further onto the bed and then tucked her under the covers. ‘Maybe I should stay with her,’ I said.
‘She’s not going to wake till the morning.’
Mum let out a particularly loud snore and rolled onto her side.
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘All questions will have to wait till then.’
I found the obligatory hotel notepad and wrote:
Mum,
Martine and I have gone out with the girls. I will see you when I get home. I missed you.
Love Chanel.
p.s. Martine and I are going to The Chocolate Bar for breakfast. You should come.
I was so relieved to have her back that I could feel the stress of the last couple of days starting to fade away. I pushed her hair back off her face and leant down to kiss her on the forehead, and then I followed Martine back out the door.
***
‘I need to get a little drunk,’ I said to Martine when we finally caught up with the rest of the gang.
‘A little drunk?’
‘Probably more than a little,’ I admitted. ‘But I’m going to settle for a little.’
It had been a confusing day. So much bad shit had gone down amongst some really good things. We’d found Mum, and the sexual chemistry between Billy and me had reached spectacular proportions. I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with him tomorrow, so it wouldn’t do to get too drunk.
We drank champagne and danced like crazy women but the whole time, a part of my brain was working on the problems at hand, until I reached a conclusion that left me standing still in the middle of the dance floor.
‘Shit,’ I said, grabbing Martine’s arm. ‘We shouldn’t have left Mum in her room. They know where her room is.’ The unspoken was that they also seemed to be able to gain access to our rooms willy-nilly.
/>
I feigned illness and the two of us flagged a cab outside the club. The drive back to the hotel took forever. I fidgeted and tapped my feet whenever we stopped at a red light. Martine patted my hand, which I’m sure was meant to be soothing, but in her anxiety she was patting a little too hard.
Finally we were back at The Luxor. I found the key as we raced to Mum’s room, and slid it through the lock. It flashed red and beeped at me. I tried it again and then again.
‘Oh come on!’ I said as the electronic lock declined the card for the third time.
‘Is it the right one?’ Martine asked.
I swore and dug through my bag again, re-emerging with another card which turned out to be the right one. My hands were trembling as I swiped the card through the lock. I opened the door, fearing the worst.
What if she were gone, or worse still, dead? What if she were wrapped in plastic?
I didn’t think I would ever recover from that. I couldn’t believe how stupid we’d been, leaving her there alone.
Mum lay where I’d left her, snoring gently.
‘Oh thank God,’ I said, slumping onto one of the chairs.
Martine sat next to me and put an arm around my shoulders. I leant into her as I blinked back tears. ‘I don’t know how much more of this I can take,’ I said.
‘We’ve got her back now.’
‘We still need to find Trent.’
‘She’ll know where he is.’
‘You going back out?’ I asked, suddenly exhausted.
‘Nah. I’m beat. Want to go shopping in the morning after breakfast?’
‘Sure.’ I felt a little better at the thought. ‘Billy’s picking me up at one.’
‘Wooohhwoohhhhhh.’ She nudged me in the ribs.
‘I must admit, it’ll be nice to spend some time with him without this hanging over my head.’ I waved an arm towards Mum.
Martine kissed me on the cheek and stood up. ‘Sweet dreams.’
‘They’d better be sweet,’ I said.
Following her out the door, I went to my room and grabbed my pyjamas and toiletry bag. Then I went back to Mum’s room and had a shower, scrubbing at my orange arm with the exfoliating glove till my skin tingled. After that, I dragged on my pyjamas and climbed into bed beside her.
It took a little while for me to relax enough to sleep. But I finally felt it creeping over me and I let the soft sound of Mum’s snoring lead me into a deep slumber.
***
When I woke in the morning, Mum was sitting on the end of the bed staring at me.
‘You’re awake,’ I said.
‘Chanel.’ I wasn’t sure if she were asking me a question or just saying my name.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ I said.
‘Dandy.’ She smiled. ‘Well I do have a little headache.’
‘I’m surprised you’re out of bed,’ I said, sitting up. ‘You were smashed.’
‘Yes, well, I was so relieved to get away.’
‘What’s with the accent?’ I said.
‘Oh, it’s all part of my disguise.’ She stood up. ‘I need to stay in character.’
‘You’re going out?’
‘Yes, I need to get…’ Her voice tapered off as she looked around the room; one finger tapping gently on the end of her chin.
‘Trent?’
‘Yes,’ she swung back towards me. ‘I need to get Trent.’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘He got another hotel room for us to hide in. I went to the club last night to find you.’
‘And got drunk.’
‘Nobody’s perfect.’ She headed for the door.
I swung my legs out of bed and said, ‘Mum, I don’t know if you should go. You don’t seem yourself.’
She laughed as she opened the door and said, ‘I won’t be long.’
‘But wait,’ I said. ‘What happened to you? How did you get away?’
‘It’s a long story,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you when I get back.’
I went back to my room and got changed, ready to meet Martine for our morning’s shopping. Then I went back to Mum’s room to leave her another note. It was as I entered the room that I noticed something odd.
Mum never went anywhere without her handbag, and yet it was still lying by the small writing table where she had placed it on arrival. I checked inside it and noticed her wallet was still there. The only thing she had taken with her was the swipe card that had been lying on the corner of the table.
Maybe she did have a head injury. Or perhaps her mind had been addled by drugs. I left the note, adding the fact that I had her phone, and placated myself with the knowledge that she was going to get Trent.
***
I stared at the chocolate fountain, watching the smooth, creamy chocolate cascade over the ledges until it pooled, glistening in the bottom. My hand twitched towards it and Martine slapped it away.
‘Don’t even think about it.’ She had on her new black pumps, a navy blouse with black pants and another new day wig. This one was brown and curly.
I’d gone for khaki cargo pants and a white t-shirt. If I did lunge for the chocolate it was going to make one hell of a mess.
The waitress seated us outside at a shady table for four. I took the seat closest to Martine and stared up at the brilliant azure sky. Finally, I felt like I was on holidays.
‘Is Tess okay?’ Martine asked.
‘Seems a little distracted. Hopefully they’ll be back when we get home and we’ll get some answers.’
‘Should we change hotels?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve been wondering the same thing. Trent will know what to do.’ It seemed stupid to be hanging around at The Luxor, but until we were all back together again it was our only way of finding each other.
The waitress arrived with our hot chocolate and chocolate croissants – I knew I’d feel ill afterwards, but hey, you only live once – and we started eating.
I was half-way through my croissant when the chair on the opposite side of the table from me was pulled out and Mickey took a seat. Riley stood behind him, his hand resting just inside the edge of his trench coat.
‘Oh come on!’ I said, eyeing my croissant. There was no way I was going anywhere till I had eaten that baby. I picked it up and took a big bite, chewing noisily as I stared at Mickey.
‘Come quietly and you won’t get ‘urt,’ Mickey said.
I pointed at them and said to Martine, ‘Meet Mickey and Riley.’
‘Charmed,’ Martine said. ‘Chanel’s got a hangover. You might want to let her finish her breakfast. Would you two gentlemen like something while you wait?’
‘A coffee would be good,’ Riley said. Mickey turned and looked up at him. ‘On second thoughts, don’t worry about it,’ Riley added.
‘Hows ‘bout you tell us where Tess is and we’ll leave you to your breakfast.’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ I told Mickey. It was technically true. She could be anywhere between The Luxor and the hotel she and Trent had holed up in. I beckoned the waitress over. I was going to need another chocolate croissant.
Mickey didn’t look happy about my order of another croissant and extra hot, hot chocolate, but I didn’t care. It had been a hell of a few days and I was almost at my limit.
‘How’d she get away?’ I asked.
‘Climbed out the window.’
Martine and I started to laugh. ‘You left her a window to climb out of?’ I said.
‘It was on the second floor,’ Riley said. ‘And she was asleep.’
‘In a bed with sheets?’ Martine asked.
‘Yeah.’ Mickey shifted uncomfortably. I was guessing The Rose hadn’t been too happy with him.
The waitress deposited my croissant and hot chocolate taking Martine’s and my empty cups away with the money for the extra order. ‘Don’t worry about the change,’ I called after her. We weren’t going to be there much longer.
‘You gunna drink that or what?’ Riley asked, staring at my c
up. Steam was rising off the creamy froth.
‘You want it?’
He shook his head.
‘Really? ‘Cause I got it especially for you.’ I picked the cup up and threw the contents over Mickey and Riley. Then I shoved the table as hard as I could into Mickey, knocking him and his chair backwards.
I jammed the croissant in my bag as Martine and I took off, out of The Chocolate Bar and across the car park towards The Venetian Casino. I could hear Mickey and Riley screaming and swearing behind us.
I was happy I had obeyed my instincts and worn flat shoes again that day. Martine was having no problems keeping up in her pumps, but then her legs were twice as long as mine and she could dance in skyscraper heels.
We darted across a bridge that spanned a man-made canal and into the entrance to the hotel.
‘Holy smoking Batman,’ Martine said, stopping to stare at our surroundings.
I felt like we had wandered into The Vatican. We stood in an enormous foyer, lined with ornate, gold-topped pillars. The ceiling, which arched up and away from those pillars, was covered in rich paintings in brilliant colours.
I grabbed Martine’s hand, and we tore down the hallway, trying to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and Mickey and Riley.
‘Which way?’ Martine asked as I stared open-mouthed at the central foyer that had opened up in front of us. A round platform, covered in an enormous mosaic, dominated the space.
‘That way.’ I pointed towards a sign for Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.
We raced down the escalator, paid the entrance fee, grabbed our brochures and darted into the museum, hoping to lose ourselves amongst the crowd and the life-like statues.
‘Oooh look, it’s Madonna,’ Martine squealed.
‘Shhhh,’ I said, waving my hands at her. We were meant to be keeping a low profile.
‘She looks so real. Quick get a photo of me with her.’
‘Martine,’ I said, nodding my head towards the entrance.
‘It’s Madonna,’ she said, as if that made all the difference.
I rolled my eyes and pulled Mum’s phone out of my handbag. It had some croissant flakes stuck to it. I blew them off and then snapped a photo.
Donna Joy Usher - Chanel 02 - Goons 'n' Roses Page 11
