room.
‘Mother! Will you stop her! She’s trying to get Quinn Blake! She’s like old enough to be his grandmother. Give me the sausages!’ Marisa ordered, snatching up another platter.
George waited for the young girl to disappear and then she bolted to the fridge and got out a bottle of lager. It was petty theft for the second time in two nights she knew, but she really needed a drink.
‘Is everything alright?’ Helen asked as George rifled through a drawer for a bottle opener.
‘Yes fine,’ George replied, rattling utensils around looking for what she needed.
If she didn’t find one she would use her teeth. It wasn’t like she had never done that before.
‘Are you looking for this?’ Helen enquired as she passed the implement over.
‘Thanks,’ George answered.
She removed the lid and took a long swig. A wave of calm ran over her as the sharp liquid coated her throat. She felt better already.
‘Something’s on your mind. I always know when something’s on your mind,’ Helen reminded her.
‘Nothing’s on my mind, I’m just tired that’s all after the 1940s Bacardi party. You’ve got to admit that was hard work,’ George said, taking another drink.
‘You’re doing too much in my opinion, taking too much work on. You’re seeking solace in lager, you’ve started listening to Metallica again, you’r e not eating properly... ’ Helen started.
‘I am eating properly. I ate half a lamb trying to get the canapés just right,’ George insisted.
She couldn’t deny the other points. She had dusted off Metallica’s The Black Album the other week and she suspected Helen counted the number of bottles of lager in the catering fridge. She didn’t know what was in the other fridge though. Or what wasn’t. That was definitely a good thing.
‘You need to make time for some fun,’ Helen told her.
‘I do! Come on, parties like this are fun. I’m having fun. See! This is a smile,’ George answered, grinning a little too forcefully.
‘Hmm,’ Helen replied unconvinced.
‘OK, well, say I was thinking about having some fun and it was all a bit impromptu and maybe a bit strange but I quite, you know, liked it - what would you say?’ George questioned, looking directly at Helen.
‘You know what I think George. You need more time for you. Have you thought about going out with Simon from the bakery? He seems such a nice lad and he’s very keen on you. He was only saying the other day he thought you two should have a drink together or something. He’d be nice to have a drink with wouldn’t he? Have you thought about having a drink with him?’ Helen asked, quickly opening the oven door to check on progress.
‘No, not thought about that,’ George answered, taking another swig of her drink and a look at her watch.
What was he doing? She wasn’t like other women. What if she didn’t know the drill? He knew nothing about her. Apart from the way she made him feel and how soft the inside of her mouth was. God she was driving him crazy! He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. He’d gone running at least five miles through the town at 4.00am. No one had ever done that to him before. And he needed to know why she was getting to him. No. This was stupid. He was meant to be mingling with record company executives and influential players from the media. He wasn’t thinking straight. He took a deep breath and moved closer to the edge of the roof. He could get down and disappear back to the hotel. He looked at his watch. What if she didn’t come? That thought unsettled him more than it should.
It was twelve minutes since he’d said ‘ ten minutes ’ and she was standing by the door to the fire escape, staring at the white character man simulating running for his life from a deadly inferno. What was she doing? She should be serving canapés and directing her staff and keeping an eye on Adam. Instead she was loitering by an exit door wondering whether she should open it or
‘Mother! Will you stop her! She’s trying to get Quinn Blake! She’s like old enough to be his grandmother. Give me the sausages!’ Marisa ordered, snatching up another platter.
George waited for the young girl to disappear and then she bolted to the fridge and got out a bottle of lager. It was petty theft for the second time in two nights she knew, but she really needed a drink.
‘Is everything alright?’ Helen asked as George rifled through a drawer for a bottle opener.
‘Yes fine,’ George replied, rattling utensils around looking for what she needed.
If she didn’t find one she would use her teeth. It wasn’t like she had never done that before.
‘Are you looking for this?’ Helen enquired as she passed the implement over.
‘Thanks,’ George answered.
She removed the lid and took a long swig. A wave of calm ran over her as the sharp liquid coated her throat. She felt better already.
‘Something’s on your mind. I always know when something’s on your mind,’ Helen reminded her.
‘Nothing’s on my mind, I’m just tired that’s all after the 1940s Bacardi party. You’ve got to admit that was hard work,’ George said, taking another drink.
‘You’re doing too much in my opinion, taking too much work on. You’re seeking solace in lager, you’ve started listening to Metallica again, you’r e not eating properly... ’ Helen started.
‘I am eating properly. I ate half a lamb trying to get the canapés just right,’ George insisted.
She couldn’t deny the other points. She had dusted off Metallica’s The Black Album the other week and she suspected Helen counted the number of bottles of lager in the catering fridge. She didn’t know what was in the other fridge though. Or what wasn’t. That was definitely a good thing.
‘You need to make time for some fun,’ Helen told her.
‘I do! Come on, parties like this are fun. I’m having fun. See! This is a smile,’ George answered, grinning a little too forcefully.
‘Hmm,’ Helen replied unconvinced.
‘OK, well, say I was thinking about having some fun and it was all a bit impromptu and maybe a bit strange but I quite, you know, liked it - what would you say?’ George questioned, looking directly at Helen.
‘You know what I think George. You need more time for you. Have you thought about going out with Simon from the bakery? He seems such a nice lad and he’s very keen on you. He was only saying the other day he thought you two should have a drink together or something. He’d be nice to have a drink with wouldn’t he? Have you thought about having a drink with him?’ Helen asked, quickly opening the oven door to check on progress.
‘No, not thought about that,’ George answered, taking another swig of her drink and a look at her watch.
What was he doing? She wasn’t like other women. What if she didn’t know the drill? He knew nothing about her. Apart from the way she made him feel and how soft the inside of her mouth was. God she was driving him crazy! He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. He’d gone running at least five miles through the town at 4.00am. No one had ever done that to him before. And he needed to know why she was getting to him. No. This was stupid. He was meant to be mingling with record company executives and influential players from the media. He wasn’t thinking straight. He took a deep breath and moved closer to the edge of the roof. He could get down and disappear back to the hotel. He looked at his watch. What if she didn’t come? That thought unsettled him more than it should.
It was twelve minutes since he’d said ‘ ten minutes ’ and she was standing by the door to the fire escape, staring at the white character man simulating running for his life from a deadly inferno. What was she doing? She should be serving canapés and directing her staff and keeping an eye on Adam. Instead she was loitering by an exit door wondering whether she should open it or
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