by Lucy Banks
Miss Wellbeloved nodded. “I hadn’t forgotten. I had a chat with your father about it last night, actually. He said to wish you good luck.”
“I think I’ll need it.” Kester leaned back, then followed Miss Wellbeloved’s gaze to the window. A single beam of sun pierced the thick clouds for a brief moment before retreating once more behind the grey. “What else did he say?”
“Nothing much. He wanted to know how we were getting on. I think he rather misses us all, actually.” She shifted her chair and placed her hands on the table. “Kester, you are aware that I know about his illness, aren’t you?”
He swallowed awkwardly, unsure how to reply. “Are you?”
“Yes. I guessed, actually. My cousin had Parkinson’s. I recognised the signs.”
Kester pressed his chin into his hands and took a deep breath. “It sucks, doesn’t it?” he said simply.
She squeezed his arm. “Yes, it does. But it’s not a death sentence, you know. He’ll be okay, as long as he doesn’t push himself. That’s why I insisted he stayed at home this week. He was going to join us, you know.”
“What, even with Larry here?”
“Even with Larry here.”
Kester whistled. “Gosh. That’s progress, isn’t it? Who knows, maybe one day they’ll even be friends.”
She chuckled. “I very much doubt it. They never really got on, not even at university. Some people just rub one another up the wrong way, don’t they?”
“What did my mum think of Larry?” he asked suddenly. He knew that his mother had gone to university with them all and had even shared a room with Miss Wellbeloved, back when they’d been good friends and not rivals for Ribero’s attentions.
Miss Wellbeloved’s jaw tightened, then she forced out a weak laugh. “Gretchen thought Larry was every bit as self-important as the rest of us did.” She wrung her hands together, eyes glazing as she revisited the memories. “However, she was nicer to him than your father was, as I’m sure you can imagine. Julio was always in fierce competition with Larry, always striving to be the best. Your mother and I found it hilarious.”
The door swung open with a loud bang, and Mike entered shortly after, waving his hand in mock-salute. “Hello, you lovely people.” Without another word, he plummeted into the nearest chair with a disbelieving glance at his watch.
Serena, Lara, Pamela, and Dimitri followed close behind, all looking similarly hollow-eyed and exhausted. They waited a few minutes for the rest of the group to join them. Larry was last in, hulking through the door with an expression that suggested he’d rather murder all of them than sit down and have a civilised meeting.
“Alright there, Larry?” Pamela asked with a wink at the others.
“No, I’m bloody not.” He fixed her with a baleful glare. “Somebody used up all the hot water in the shower.”
“Ah well,” Miss Wellbeloved commented with a philosophical nod. “That’s why it pays to get in there quick, rather than trying to sneak in a quick nap while everyone else has a wash. Anyway,” she continued hastily as she noticed the furious twitch of his nostrils, “I think we all know what the plan is for today, don’t we?”
“Get over to Grace McCready’s house as soon as possible,” Serena said as she licked her finger and polished the mud off her shoes.
“We need to phone the archaeologist too,” Lara added, rubbing her eyes. “He reckoned he’d be just about finished by today. Then we can find out how old that skeleton is, not to mention the knife sticking out of its chest.”
“I’ve got my SSFE interview at ten,” Kester reminded them all.
Higgins snorted. “Hardly a convenient time to have it, is it? Can’t you postpone it?”
“No, he cannot,” Miss Wellbeloved said firmly. “It’s important that he gets on this course, and you know as well as I do that you don’t just cancel meetings with Dr Barqa-Abu.”
He sniffed, then folded his arms across his chest. “Yes, I suppose you do have a point there. She’s terrifying.”
“Thanks for telling me that,” Kester said, now regretting his decision to apply even more than previously. God, if Larry Higgins thinks she’s frightening, he realised, she must be even worse than I imagined.
“I think we should try to get into Town Hall too, see if there’s anything in there that can provide more clues,” Larry suggested.
A flurry of impatient knocking pulled all eyes towards the door. Moments later, Mr Onions poked his ancient head around the doorframe, flinching in the light. They waited patiently until the rest of his person had scuffled into the room, decked out in a rather mildewy-looking green dressing gown. He coughed, a series of barks that sounded alarmingly like an attack of tuberculosis, then patted his chest for added effect.
“Now, see here.” He paused, arthritic finger suspended dramatically in the air. “I don’t get nosey with my guests, but when they’re coming and going in the night, I need to know why, okay?”
“Of course, of course.” Miss Wellbeloved stood in a flourish of scraping chair legs, quickly smoothing her clothes down. “And we’re more than happy to explain.”
“And another thing,” the man stormed on, oblivious to her comment. He’d obviously been working himself up to the moment and didn’t want to lose momentum. “I’m presuming you must ’ave taken my set of door keys with you. Which I’m not happy about at all. What would have happened if there’d been a fire, eh? How would I have got out?”
She blushed. “I do apologise, I had presumed you’d have a spare set of keys.”
“I do! I do have a spare set. But you didn’t know that for sure, and you had no right snooping in my office, did you?”
Larry rose, knocking the plastic chair over in the process. “I’d hardly call it snooping, sir. We were merely trying to exit your hotel, which we needed to do in a hurry.”
“No, Larry, he’s absolutely right; we should have asked him.”
“At five in the morning?” Higgins was starting to go red in the face, which Kester knew was never a good sign. “I very much doubt he would have liked being woken up at that time!”
“Excuse me,” the hotel owner interrupted, showering spittle over the carpet in the process. “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you. More to the point, what were you all doing, sneaking out in the middle of the night? Sounds shady, if you ask me.”
Higgins’s chest puffed out even further. “I’ll have you know that there was absolutely nothing shady about it, my good man. We were engaged in perfectly respectable business.”
The old man looked incredulous. “I can think of no decent profession that needs to creep off in the night.”
“What are you trying to suggest?”
“That you lot were up to no good.” He narrowed his eyes, then jabbed a knobbly finger at them all. “I had my reservations about you lot when you arrived, to be honest.”
“How dare you!”
Miss Wellbeloved threw the others a worried glance. “Now then, Larry,” she muttered. “Let’s just keep our calm, I’m sure this can be easily sorted out.”
“I’m not going to let some old fool tell me I’m shady!”
Mr Onions gasped before erupting into another indignant coughing fit. “Old fool? Who are you calling an old fool?”
“He’s not calling anyone an old fool, honestly.” Miss Wellbeloved positioned herself between the two of them, arms extended appeasingly. “Please, do accept our apologies.”
The old man stamped a foot, then pointed at them. “I want you out. All of you.”
The room fell silent.
“Hang on a minute, mate,” Mike said, clambering to his feet. “We’re paid up until Friday.”
“Fine, you can have your money back. But I don’t want you here no more. I won’t be called a fool, and that’s final.”
Lara let out a humourless laugh. “I don’t believe this
.”
Miss Wellbeloved’s face creased. “Please, don’t listen to my colleague here. We’re terribly sorry about taking the keys in the night. If we’d have known that we were putting you in any danger, of course we wouldn’t have done it.”
The old man shook his head, impassive as an ancient basset hound. “Too late, I’m afraid. I won’t be called a fool by anyone. You can stay tonight, but then you’re out tomorrow morning. Understood?”
Serena groaned and buried her face in her hands. Miss Wellbeloved’s jaw tightened. “Very well,” she said stiffly, and gave Higgins a glare that would have frozen a hot-water bottle. “I understand. We’ll make sure we’re out by tomorrow.”
The old man’s face twitched, then hardened again. “Yep. I’ll return the money that you’re owed. Let’s agree to stay out of one another’s way until then.”
With a final, judgemental nod, he swooped from the room, dressing gown billowing behind him. The others stared at one another, mouths open. Kester felt as though his tired brain simply couldn’t cope with much more drama.
“It’s a bit of a pigsty anyway, isn’t it?” Mike said finally. “I bet we can find somewhere else to stay. It’s not like it’s the holiday season, is it?”
“But they’ll all be too expensive,” Miss Wellbeloved replied. She slung her chair back into the corner with a fury that was quite out of character. “We’re not going to be able to find anywhere else that’ll put all seven of us up for under twenty pounds a night, are we?”
Larry threw his chair on top of Miss Wellbeloved’s. “If you ask me, we’re well shot of this place. In fact, I think we should move out today, after what that idiot just said to us.”
“You’re the idiot, Larry!” Miss Wellbeloved quivered and pointed a finger in his face. “You’re an absolute bloody moron!”
Mike let out a low whistle and was silenced by a prod in the ribs from Serena.
Higgins gawped for a moment like a fish pulled from a river. “Excuse me?”
“We’ve endured your arrogance and negativity for long enough!” Her lips started to shake. Kester wondered if he should intervene. He felt sure she was about to cry.
The room felt suddenly rather colder. Everyone squirmed awkwardly in their seats.
“Working with your lot hasn’t exactly been easy,” Larry muttered. For the first time, he seemed slightly unsure of himself.
“Well, working with you has been completely impossible,” Miss Wellbeloved spat. “From the first day, you’ve been putting us down, criticising our techniques, and making obstacles wherever you can. If anyone has caused the failure of this project, it’s you.”
Higgins opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, looking hurt. “I think your comments are most unfair,” he said finally, scratching his bald spot. “Don’t you agree, Lara? Dimitri?”
Lara and Dimitri glanced at one another, then shrugged. Higgins’s shoulders slumped.
“So that’s how it is, is it?” He looked from face to face. Everyone looked away. He sighed. For the briefest moment, Kester even felt a bit sorry for him. He looked like a bully at school who’d just found out that nobody in the class liked him.
“I’ll be in the room, if anyone needs me,” he said finally. “Though by the sounds of it, that seems unlikely.”
“Larry, hang on a moment, mate,” Mike said, reaching across. However, the older man turned with surprising speed and stormed from the room.
Kester twiddled his fingers. He felt as though he should say something. He wanted to say something. But his head felt as though it had been filled with ten bags of cotton wool, and the power of speech seemed to have completely deserted him. Instead, he looked at the floor and kept his eyes fixed on a particularly bald patch of carpet by the leg of the table.
“Where do we go from here, Miss W?” Mike said eventually, resting a hand on her arm. “Carry on as planned?”
Her eyes started to shine over, a tear threatening to spill over her lower lid. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I think . . . the stress of the last few days . . .”
Lara stood up immediately and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been incredibly stressful, ain’t it?” Miss Wellbeloved let out a sob, then nodded into the warm suede of Lara’s shirt collar.
“Lara, you’re very good at saying the right thing at the right time,” Mike said admiringly.
Serena tutted. “Will you stop fawning over her, Mike? It’s making me queasy.”
Mike bristled. “Speak for yourself, Miss ‘I’ve got a thing for Russians’.”
She blushed, then glanced at Dimitri, who pretended to be incredibly interested in the opposite wall. “Mike, why don’t you just shut up?”
“You bloody started it, as per usual.”
Pamela groaned and leaned on Kester’s shoulder. “Please, can we stop fighting? Things are fraught enough as it is.”
Serena snorted. “I was merely pointing out that Mike seems particularly impressed by every single thing Lara does.”
“Hey, what’s not to be impressed by?” Lara held her arms aloft and beamed at them all.
“He’s like a sad little puppy, sniffing around your ankles!”
“Are you kidding? With a beard like that? He looks like a St Bernard, not a pup,” Kester quipped in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, which had become horribly intense. Does anyone actually like anyone else in this room right now? he wondered, toying with the idea of simply walking out and retreating to the safety of his bed. Then he remembered that Larry was also up there, which put him off somewhat.
“Grow up, Serena,” Mike growled. “You can be such a cow at times.”
“I’m a cow? You’re the one who’s constantly making fun of me!”
He sniggered. “Stop giving me so much material to work with, then.”
Serena hoisted herself up and placed her hands on her hips. Despite the fact that she was nearly a foot shorter than Mike, not to mention about five stone lighter, Kester would have still put money on her in a fight. “Also,” she said with cold deliberation, “haven’t you noticed that your girlfriend here has the start of a moustache?”
Ouch, Kester thought, immediately looking at Lara, who still seemed unconcerned. It was true though, he’d noticed it the other day. Not much of a moustache, to be fair. Certainly not anything that detracted from her overall good looks. But a definite shadow, nonetheless, with just a couple of whiskers protruding next to the nostrils.
“That’s so bloody unkind of you,” Mike flared. “What do you get out of being so horrible to everyone, eh?”
Lara reached out and patted Mike on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t let it bother you,” she said, giving them both a big smile. “She’s right. I do have the start of a moustache. Big deal.”
Serena looked slightly nettled. “Yeah, you do,” she continued, folding her arms defensively. “Have you considered waxing?”
“Serena!” Pamela, Miss Wellbeloved, and Mike chorused in unison.
Lara started to laugh. “No. I’m growing it.” She looked at their faces and laughed harder. “Gee, I don’t even know where to start. Dimitri, give me a hand here.”
Dimitri sighed and swept around with a theatrical flourish. “You English are very slow. You need to open your eyes a little. See things for how they really are.”
“I don’t follow,” Mike said, looking with confusion at them all.
“Lara is transgender, yes? She is changing to a man. Okay? It’s no big deal. Let’s move on.”
“Oh. Oh.” Mike nodded. He pondered, then looked at the ceiling. Then he looked back at Lara and rubbed his chin. “Well,” he concluded, with a grin. “That explains it, then.”
“You don’t have to treat me different, you know,” Lara said. “I’m exactly the same person I ever was, okay?”
Serena looked shell-shocked and more than a little bit guil
ty. Kester eyed her with satisfaction. That’ll teach you for being such an inutterable git, he thought, enjoying her discomfort.
“Gosh, that’s a bit of a bombshell,” Miss Wellbeloved said. “But of course,” she added quickly, “we fully support your decision.”
Lara batted the comment away. “Honestly, it’s no big deal. I always thought of myself as a boy anyway, so getting the operations done is the logical step.”
“Is that why your brother doesn’t speak to you anymore?” Kester asked.
Lara sighed. “Yup.” She looked out of the window. “It was pretty hurtful, if I’m honest. We always got along so well. Maybe he’ll come around one day.”
“Ah, brothers can be such a pain,” Mike said sympathetically.
“Could you let us know what you’d prefer us to call you?” Miss Wellbeloved added. “We don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by referring to you by the wrong name.”
Lara laughed. “Well, it’s up to you. I know some people are still trying to get used to it. If you want to call me by the name I feel comfortable with, it’s Luke.”
“Okay,” Miss Wellbeloved said. “From hereon in, it’s Luke, then.”
They all nodded. Pamela smiled. “I do like the name Luke. I once had the most enormous crush on an old dentist of mine who was called Luke. He had the loveliest smile.”
“As you might imagine, if he was a bloody dentist,” Mike remarked dryly.
Kester suddenly remembered. “Was that why you were going into that cosmetic surgeon in Exeter then, Lara? I mean Luke. Sorry about that. It might take me a while to adjust.”
Luke looked surprised. “You saw me? Why didn’t you say hello?”
“I thought you were having some work done and might not want people to know.”
“Aw, that’s kind of you to think about my feelings. So you didn’t tell anyone?”
Kester shook his head.
“Yeah,” Luke continued, looking out of the window. “It’s been a real long process. I can’t have the main operation until another year and a half because the doctors have to make sure you’re committed to it. But I’ll get there in the end.”
