Cocktails, Rock Tales & Betrayals

by Archer, Julie

  Alik flinched. “But all that time we spent talking before that... We get each other, Caro, we have so many things in common, not just the music stuff. Edie and I don't have any of that.”

  “That's not how she sees it.” Caro extricated her hand from his.

  It took every ounce of her willpower not to turn back.

  Chapter Eleven

  The day of The Magpie opening finally arrived. Edie woke early, much to Alik's dismay, and flitted around his flat, unable to settle, until he finally asked her to leave.

  She had been at the shop since eight, directing her minions in setting up the products and finding space for the drinks and canapés that would be arriving later that afternoon. She had even drafted Olivia in to help out, although strictly speaking it wasn't a PR task, but it was difficult to say 'no' to Edie. The camera crew from Pretty Rich Things were trying not to get in the way, but there wasn't a whole lot of room for them and everyone's nerves were getting frayed.

  “No, I don't think the diamante earrings should go next to the skull scarves, you're mixing jewellery and accessories!” she said to one hapless helper. “And we really need to leave space for people to put their glasses down.”

  Not to mention leave some space for people to move around, she mused. It was going to be difficult to fit everyone in the shop. Olivia had kept the guest list deliberately light - or elite, depending on your point of view - picking select editors from the glossies and identifying a few online bloggers who would give honest opinions. Of course, she hadn't managed to stop Edie inviting all her friends and acquaintances.

  “Where do you want these?” one of the waiters asked, brandishing a platter of bite-sized pastries.

  “Erm...” Edie looked around, desperately trying to find a spot big enough for the dish.

  “I could always eat some?” Olivia's voice was a welcome relief.

  “Thank God you're here,” Edie said. “I think I'm having a slight panic attack.”

  Olivia took the plate from the waiter and somehow managed to clear an area big enough to accommodate it on the cash desk. The cash desk itself was a beautiful duck egg blue vintage dressing table that had been fashioned into a vessel that now housed a till and card machine, along with various sizes and colours of tissue paper and ribbon, ready to wrap the products in, waiting to be placed in the matching duck egg blue stiff paper carrier bags with a silhouette of a magpie on it in one corner.

  Edie had put a lot of thought into the design of the shop, as well as sourcing much of the stock. She had surprised Olivia, and even herself, with her talent for design and planning, not to mention having an eye for a trinket or piece of clothing that would engage and beguile a buyer into wanting it. Beautiful things for beautiful people.

  The products weren't simply stacked on the shelves - bookcases, shelving units, and dressers had been sourced from a variety of second hand, antique, and vintage outlets, stripped and painted to match or complement the cash desk - they were artfully arranged. Everything looked like it belonged together and she had created areas with a theme around either a product or a concept. And in between the larger items of furniture, there were smaller racks dotted about that held clothes; sleek slips of silk and sheathes of cashmere and pure lamb’s wool, each with a similar colour palette, creating a rainbow effect as one looked around the room.

  “You'll be fine,” Olivia said. “Now what else can I do to help?”

  A couple of hours later, everything was ready. Edie was resplendent in a clinging patterned dress and skyscraper heels, in almost the exact same shade of blue as her shop's colour scheme. She stood on the steps to the mezzanine level, surveying her empire, and as she cast a glance over every area, a smile crossed her face.

  She noticed some activity outside and briskly clapped her hands to get everyone's attention, making sure that the camera was focused on her.

  “We have a few moments before people start to come in and I want to make sure that everyone knows their roles, so listen up.”

  After Edie's rallying speech, which took three takes before the production team was happy, Olivia opened the doors. It wasn't long before the little shop was rammed with women ooh-ing and aah-ing over the merchandise, sipping lavish cocktails, and partaking of the delicious tiny canapés and pastries, while husbands and partners waved the credit cards and flashed the cash. The waiting staff weaved effortlessly through the crowds, handing out flutes of champagne, crostini, and petit fours.

  Edie was holding court by the cash desk, observing the journalists and bloggers and watching them whisper to each other. Alik was by her side, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else than where he was, and studying his phone intently. Out of the corner of her eye, Edie noticed Caro enter the store. Alone. Edie frowned. She didn't realise that Caro had been on the guest list. Edie got the attention of one of the waiters and made a beeline for her with two glasses of champagne.

  “Ah, Caro, glad you could make it,” said Edie, passing her a flute and clinking her glass with Caro's. “How are things coming along with your little bar?” she asked, with a false smile.

  “It's going well, thanks for asking.” Caro responded politely, her smile matching Edie’s. “Olivia seems to have done a great job in getting the right kind of people here tonight. I see a lot of serious editors browsing.”

  Edie raised her eyebrows, thinking to herself that Caro probably had no chance of recognising the important people in the fashion business. But then, she reasoned, she probably wouldn't know the main players in Alik's world either. “Yes, Olivia has done so much for me. And for Alik too, of course. Blood Stone Riot are definitely profiting from her skills.”

  “Of course, so many talents,” said Caro. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a look around and see if there are any little trinkets of interest.” She melted into the crowd.

  Edie watched her go, her eyes narrowing as she sipped her drink. She still wasn't sure if Caro was someone to be trusted.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caro's hunt for her own place was bumped up the priority list by Nic after his discovery of a stark-bollock-naked Jonny Tyler striding across the landing one morning as he went for a five o'clock piss. Caro had laughed and accused him of being jealous. But Nic had been adamant; he didn't want Olivia to come face to face with that when she was staying over, which she was doing more frequently.

  After trawling websites and checking out a few of the local estate agents, Caro had narrowed down her selection to six properties around North Ridge and the surrounding area. With a surprisingly practical head on, she had managed to get them all with the same agent and had arranged to see them all on the same day.

  Olivia had been nominated to go with her so Nic could keep things on track at The Indigo Lounge.

  Just before she was about to leave, Caro's phone rang.

  “I'm really sorry, Caro, but I have to sort something out for Edie. One of the printers we use has just pulled out and we have to find a replacement.”

  “Surely Edie can spare you for a few hours?” said Caro. She heard Edie shouting out to Olivia in the background.

  “I'm sorry,” Olivia said. “Call me and let me know where we're having the housewarming party.”

  Caro sighed, glancing over to where Nic was chatting quietly with Alik. They hadn't really spoken since Billy’s party; Caro tried to avoid him.

  “Olivia can't come with me today,” she said. She sounded like a pouting child who had been told that she couldn't go out to play with her best friend. “I'm a bit nervous of going on my own. One random estate agent and me, who knows what might happen?”

  Nic looked up. “Can’t Jonny go with you?”'

  “He’s in Manchester. He was promoting a club night.”

  “I could come with you?” said Alik.

  “You?”

  “Why not? I'm just hanging out here today; nothing planned. No issues if you don't want me to come.” He resumed looking at the copy of Roccia balanced on his knee.

 
The thought of spending some one on one time with Alik, albeit in the company of an estate agent, was an attractive proposition. Although their recent encounters had been pretty tense, to say the least. Perhaps it might be different in the cold light of day, with no alcohol involved, doing something normal. And she really didn't want to go on her own.

  “Okay,” she said. “That would be great, thank you.”

  * * *

  Nic loaned them his car for the day. They headed out to Kingbridge Drive first, which was one of the most exclusive and coveted areas of North Ridge. There were two apartments available in a converted pottery, which formed part of a larger gated development.

  Waiting at the front door of the building was a young man in his early twenties, clutching a leather folder to his chest. He was wearing an ill-fitting suit and an outrageous floral tie, which clashed horribly with his striped shirt. His jaw dropped when he saw Alik get out of the car.

  “Crikey, Alik Thorne!” he said. “You were the last person I expected to see on a house viewing!” He stuck out his hand, which Alik duly shook. “Blood Stone Riot are amazing. It's so great to have a local band making it in the business, one of our own so to speak. Where are you guys playing next?”

  Caro watched as the estate agent went on firing questions and comments at Alik without giving him chance to reply. After a couple of minutes, she cleared her throat.

  “Um, Marco, shall we go and see the flats? After all, we've got a lot to see today.”

  “Gosh, sure, sorry, Ms Flynn.”

  She caught Alik's eye and he winked at her.

  As the three of them walked into the building, Marco gave them a short history lesson on the property, telling them how the Grade II-listed building had been several things over the years, including a paper mill, a bakery, and even a brewery. Caro thought he was trying to impress Alik, as he hadn't been this forthcoming over the phone with her. The building had been developed in the past few years to create a number of beautiful apartments, surrounded by a development of town houses, built to be in keeping with the original property. The two apartments were pretty much identical, presented to a very high standard, with distinctive oak flooring, exposed beams and columns, plus under-floor heating and lovely views over the Ridgeway Canal. They were both very nice properties, but Caro felt that there was something a bit clinical about them. She didn't get the feeling that anyone really 'lived' there - more that it was an address to have as a status symbol - and they felt cold and unwelcoming. She didn't share her thoughts aloud, but nodded and made non-committal sounds when asked her opinion by Marco. Alik had been quite enthusiastic, opening wardrobes to find out how much space there was, and trying to find the bin in the cupboards in the kitchen.

  “You're playing your cards very close to your chest,” he whispered, when Marco left them alone for a few minutes. “Is it because there's only one en suite?”

  Caro laughed. “You're not shopping with Edie. I couldn't care less about en suites, but I do feel like I'm in an office or a doctor's surgery.” She gestured to the white walls and stainless steel surfaces in the room.

  Alik nodded. “I know what you mean, it feels like you'd always have to put on an act to make sure you fitted in with the surroundings. You couldn't relax.” He met her eyes and she realised that what he'd just said didn't just apply to the house they were standing in.

  The next two properties Marco showed her were a waste of time. One only had a single bedroom, and the other was in a part of town that could best be described as ‘questionable.’ Alik confessed that even he was watching his back as they went into the house, and that he would worry about Caro being there. Caro was touched by his concern.

  The penultimate property was close to the centre of town, again with an outlook over the Ridgeway Canal. It was a recently-built three-storey townhouse. Entering on the middle floor, there was a small study-slash-third bedroom as you walked through the door, leading through into a spacious living room with a balcony, just big enough to stand on. Downstairs was a long, open-plan kitchen diner, with a tiny piece of garden that backed directly onto the water. Upstairs there was one good-sized double room, a family bathroom, and a master bedroom suite that housed an enormous king-sized bed, a walk-in wardrobe, and a large en suite with a huge rainfall shower head. As it was still in show home mode, everything was immaculately presented. Alik teased her that the shower was big enough for two and they should test it out.

  Caro walked up and down the stairs and around the rooms. She didn't get the same empty feeling she had in the flats at Kingsbridge Drive. There were neighbours close by. It was near The Indigo Lounge. It would be perfect. Alik steered her upstairs to take another look at the master suite, making her uncomfortable about being in a bedroom with him again.

  “I can tell you like this place,'” he said.

  She grinned. “Is it that obvious? I have to have it.”

  “You can't tell Marco that, you have to make him wait,” said Alik, his tone loaded with meaning. “You can't come across as too easy.”

  Caro stuck her tongue out at him, wishing she could simply push him down on the bed and have her wicked way with him. All thoughts of that were soon crushed; Alik's phone rang and he waved it at her, showing her that Edie was calling him. He disappeared down the stairs and out the front door, leaving her to find Marco, who was waiting eagerly in the living room.

  “I'm not sure,” she said. “There are a few compromises here and we've still got another place to see.”

  After they had seen the final house - a perfectly acceptable flat in a perfectly acceptable estate, but nothing like the townhouse that Caro so desperately wanted - they went their separate ways. Marco went back to his office with a promise of VIP access to the next Blood Stone Riot gig, and Caro and Alik went to get a late lunch. They found a quiet pub on the outskirts of Stratfield and ordered a couple of sandwiches, beer for Alik, and wine for Caro, before settling side by side into a corner table.

  Caro spread the particulars of the six properties they had seen on the table in front of them, shuffling them and ranking them in order, even though it was patently obvious which was her top choice.

  “Thank you for coming with me today,” she said, sipping on the slightly too-sweet rosé. “I really do appreciate it. If I'd have been on my own, I think I would probably already be moving in.”

  Alik shrugged. “Marco seems pretty harmless, but I would have worried about you. Glad I could have been of assistance. And that townhouse is pretty amazing. When's the housewarming?” He grinned.

  Caro picked up her phone and dialled the estate agent's number. “Hi, can I speak to Marco please? There was a pause while she was put through. She put in an offer some thirty thousand pounds below the asking price, reminding Marco that she was a cash buyer, had nothing to sell and could move quickly.

  “Jesus, remind me to ask you to do my negotiating with Parker,” said Alik as she hung up. “What did Marco say?”

  Caro popped a piece of tomato in her mouth and chewed on it before answering. “Not much, he's going to talk to the developers and get back to me. Now, we wait.”

  They spent a companionable hour or so chatting about the bar and the band as they ate, briefly touching on Olivia's working relationship with Edie. Caro was on tenterhooks, checking her phone every few minutes making sure it had enough power and signal. She had texted Nic and Olivia to say she thought she had found something, but would let them know as soon as she heard.

  Finally, Marco's number appeared on her screen and she leapt to answer it. Channelling her inner calm, she spoke. “Hello, Marco... Uh huh, yes I see... Well that's interesting... And when will they be able to do that?” She paused, her expression impassive, listening to the estate agent carefully. “Okay, thanks, Marco, I'll be in touch again soon.” And she ended the call.

  “And? Christ, Caro, the suspense is killing me!”

  Caro broke into a wide smile. “It's mine, they'll let me know when I can move in, but basically it's
a done deal.”

  “That's brilliant!” He enveloped her in a massive hug and kissed her cheek.

  He was so close to her. She breathed in his scent, briefly closing her eyes and imagining how they could celebrate properly. If they were together, of course.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Phoenix was one of those old-school rock pubs. The type that, even after a face-lift, had a slightly sticky, patterned carpet with suspicious stains, and the scent of un-emptied ashtrays, long after the smoking ban had been introduced. On the main road between North Ridge and Stratfield, it attracted a loyal crowd who supported local, and not so local, bands. Blood Stone Riot were one of those bands, one that usually drew quite a big crowd, and that evening was no exception as they did another warm-up gig on Parker's list for the Wilde Park Festival.

  Caro's invite had come from Poppy, which was a great opportunity to get to know her better. After Billy's party, Caro had initially been reluctant, but relented in the end. It was just another gig after all, what could possibly go wrong?

  “I'm so pleased you came,” said Poppy, pouring Caro a glass of wine. “I couldn't bear spending another evening with Edie looking down her nose at me. Plus, I wanted to say thank you for agreeing to help me.”

  Caro nodded. “No problem. We really do need to arrange a time for a proper chat about everything.”

  They chatted while the band were setting up; Poppy telling Caro about how she had been working at a fashion jewellery and accessories retailer, spending her nights out with friends and in bars watching bands - not dissimilar to Caro - when she had stumbled across Blood Stone Riot. It had been a couple of years since she and Nate had first started seeing each other properly, and Nate had proposed six months ago. After that, Poppy had thrown in her job and basically followed the band around. She did odd bits and pieces for them, like booking hotels and vans, but since they had signed with Numb Records, there wasn't so much for her to do anymore.