at my
expense, I decided I had made a reasonable enough idiot of myself for
one night, and made my excuses to go.
“Well, I’ll leave
you to enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll move on your adoring fans
too, so you don’t have to feel them ‘gawking’ at you for the
remainder of your meal,” I told Tudor, using my fingers to
accentuate the air quotes.
“Thanks,” he
whispered quietly, still clutching his sister’s hand. I would have
thought he was kind of sweet really, if I hadn’t just been the
target of his anger.
I swiftly walked back
to the gaggle of waiters and laughed at their ludicrously shocked
faces. Tink ran to the front and grabbed my arm, pulling me into the
kitchen, out of view and out of ear shot. The Roman army followed.
“Fucking hell, Wil,
you just met Tudor North! What was he like? I almost shit a disco
ball tonight when he came in and asked if we could arrange a private
table for him and his family. Arghhhh! Tudor ‘sex on legs’ North! What I wouldn’t give to sink my ball in his hole,” he
shrieked.
“Calm down, Tink. And
you lot,” I pointed to the rest of the staff, “are creeping him
the hell out, so back off.”
They all scurried away
at the insistence of Nonna Girasoli and her trusted pasta roller,
leaving me and the Tinkster alone.
“Wil, who was that
girl?” he quizzed when we were no longer subject to eavesdroppers.
“That was my student,
Boleyn, one of ‘Destiny’s Delinquents’. Think I now know why
she’s so secretive. Turns out her brother’s Tudor bloody North,
who’d have guessed that?” I mused.
“What about him? I
saw him talking to you. What’d he say?”
I crossed my arms
defensively. “Just introduced himself and then ripped the piss at
my star-struck reaction. Came off as a moody knob really, which is a
shame as I think he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,”
I admitted, expressing my disappointment.
“Apart from me of
course?” asked Tink, in all seriousness.
“Yes, apart from
you,” I sighed.
“Well, he couldn’t
take his eyes off you, Wil. It was so strange. He kept staring at you
before you had even realised who he was. He laughed when you came in
dancing and continued watching everything you did until you went
over, and then he just seemed pissed off,” Tink exclaimed.
“No wonder! Have you
seen the clip of me? I’m dressed up like a tart. Rule one of
teaching: students and their family should not see you dressed for
clubbing. Oh my God! I pulled out the slut drop too! Do you think
I’ll get fired over this?” I asked, suddenly panicked. “Plus, I
think he hates me. Was that not obvious?”
Tink snorted in
indignation. “The slut drop is your signature move, ham slice, and
he doesn’t hate you. He was drawn to you without a doubt. Then
again it could have been your titties. They look unreal tonight,”
he remarked as he pushed my breasts up with his hands.
“Forget it. I want
to,” I gestured with a wave of my hand. “I definitely need a
night out now after this. Jägerbombs ahoy! I’m up for getting
completely sloshed,” I hooted.
“Right well, I need
to finish my shift. Sit by the counter in the back and I’ll get you
a daiquiri while you wait.”
He stopped suddenly, as
he was walking away. “Do you want me to spit in his garlic bread in
revenge?”
He wasn’t joking.
I laughed and shook my
head. “No, but thanks for the support, chuck.”
Tink just winked in
response.
I took myself to the
staff bar and jumped up on a stool. I felt eyes on me and when I
looked back, Tudor North was glaring menacingly my way. Our eyes met
and he gave a brisk nod, his mouth clenched into a rigid tight line.
What a weirdo. What did
I ever do to him? Recognise him? He shouldn't be bloody famous then,
if he doesn't want the friggin’ attention!
Chapter 7
Celebrity close encounter
Fifteen minutes later,
and I was contentedly sipping on the remains of my large daiquiri
when a deep cough interrupted my
expense, I decided I had made a reasonable enough idiot of myself for
one night, and made my excuses to go.
“Well, I’ll leave
you to enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll move on your adoring fans
too, so you don’t have to feel them ‘gawking’ at you for the
remainder of your meal,” I told Tudor, using my fingers to
accentuate the air quotes.
“Thanks,” he
whispered quietly, still clutching his sister’s hand. I would have
thought he was kind of sweet really, if I hadn’t just been the
target of his anger.
I swiftly walked back
to the gaggle of waiters and laughed at their ludicrously shocked
faces. Tink ran to the front and grabbed my arm, pulling me into the
kitchen, out of view and out of ear shot. The Roman army followed.
“Fucking hell, Wil,
you just met Tudor North! What was he like? I almost shit a disco
ball tonight when he came in and asked if we could arrange a private
table for him and his family. Arghhhh! Tudor ‘sex on legs’ North! What I wouldn’t give to sink my ball in his hole,” he
shrieked.
“Calm down, Tink. And
you lot,” I pointed to the rest of the staff, “are creeping him
the hell out, so back off.”
They all scurried away
at the insistence of Nonna Girasoli and her trusted pasta roller,
leaving me and the Tinkster alone.
“Wil, who was that
girl?” he quizzed when we were no longer subject to eavesdroppers.
“That was my student,
Boleyn, one of ‘Destiny’s Delinquents’. Think I now know why
she’s so secretive. Turns out her brother’s Tudor bloody North,
who’d have guessed that?” I mused.
“What about him? I
saw him talking to you. What’d he say?”
I crossed my arms
defensively. “Just introduced himself and then ripped the piss at
my star-struck reaction. Came off as a moody knob really, which is a
shame as I think he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,”
I admitted, expressing my disappointment.
“Apart from me of
course?” asked Tink, in all seriousness.
“Yes, apart from
you,” I sighed.
“Well, he couldn’t
take his eyes off you, Wil. It was so strange. He kept staring at you
before you had even realised who he was. He laughed when you came in
dancing and continued watching everything you did until you went
over, and then he just seemed pissed off,” Tink exclaimed.
“No wonder! Have you
seen the clip of me? I’m dressed up like a tart. Rule one of
teaching: students and their family should not see you dressed for
clubbing. Oh my God! I pulled out the slut drop too! Do you think
I’ll get fired over this?” I asked, suddenly panicked. “Plus, I
think he hates me. Was that not obvious?”
Tink snorted in
indignation. “The slut drop is your signature move, ham slice, and
he doesn’t hate you. He was drawn to you without a doubt. Then
again it could have been your titties. They look unreal tonight,”
he remarked as he pushed my breasts up with his hands.
“Forget it. I want
to,” I gestured with a wave of my hand. “I definitely need a
night out now after this. Jägerbombs ahoy! I’m up for getting
completely sloshed,” I hooted.
“Right well, I need
to finish my shift. Sit by the counter in the back and I’ll get you
a daiquiri while you wait.”
He stopped suddenly, as
he was walking away. “Do you want me to spit in his garlic bread in
revenge?”
He wasn’t joking.
I laughed and shook my
head. “No, but thanks for the support, chuck.”
Tink just winked in
response.
I took myself to the
staff bar and jumped up on a stool. I felt eyes on me and when I
looked back, Tudor North was glaring menacingly my way. Our eyes met
and he gave a brisk nod, his mouth clenched into a rigid tight line.
What a weirdo. What did
I ever do to him? Recognise him? He shouldn't be bloody famous then,
if he doesn't want the friggin’ attention!
Chapter 7
Celebrity close encounter
Fifteen minutes later,
and I was contentedly sipping on the remains of my large daiquiri
when a deep cough interrupted my
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