the doorway. ‘Thank you.’
We stopped in another shop further along the street where Stuart bought some new gear and then we went to a chemist. He filled a basket full of various lotions and potions. I looked at the aisle upon aisle of beauty products. Painted girls with fluffy hair and talons that could pluck your eyes out studied the shelves. I wouldn’t have known where to start. Perhaps they taught such things in school alongside geography.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Stuart said.
‘Na.’ I tried to pull a face, still hurt. ‘It’s for girly girls, isn’t it? Not for the likes of me.’
He went to the desk to pay. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted him to say, but he could have said something. Even if I argued with him, told him off for being daft and patronising. I might have faked a blush and simpered a little and said, Yeah, right. My beauty is au natural. But no, he just walked away.
Chapter 13
Stuart carried all the bags and I limped alongside as best I could. The sun hadn’t set but started to dip behind the buildings, lengthening the shadows and cooling the streets. People moved quickly, their heads down, keen to get home. Stuart led the way to a hotel which looked all glass and period furniture. A bloke in a fancy tuxedo opened the door and kept his eyes on the ground. Talk about posh.
Not many places put real people on the doors or in their reception areas. At most hotels, people arrived and touched screens to check-in. They stood on scales and were weighed, measured, and given a spinal alignment assessment so they could be allocated beds that matched their exact physical requirements. But this hotel had a woman with blood-red nails and a beehive smiling at us from behind a blue granite desk. She wore an old fashioned tailored suit and high spiky heels.
When Stuart signed his name as J Frank I understood why he’d brought us for the pricier, personal touch. A top-tart receptionist is more easily fooled than a face recognition box. He showed her a fake ID and when she glanced at me he came over all authoritative. ‘She’s with me. She’ll only be here an hour or two.’
Oh nice. Consider me flattered.
‘Of course, sir.’ The woman’s face had such a thick layer of slap pasted over it she had the plastic look of a doll. ‘That will be an extra three hundred pounds.’
Holy Moly. For an hour? It had better be good. For that we should expect the full bundle. I stepped forward. ‘Any chance of some Hot Blue?’
It looked an effort, but she did manage to address me directly with polite, if tight, efficiency. ‘Of course, madam. I’ll have it sent up to Mr Frank’s room.’
The room turned out to be well smart. It was more like a giant bedsit with two full-size, squichy sofas and a solid oak dining table full of crystal glass and silver trinkets. The Blue arrived almost simultaneously. Stuart thanked and tipped the waiter and then we were alone. ‘Sorry about the, uh …’
I folded my arms and waited.
‘You know? The um … she’s here for an hour stuff.’
I watched him squirm for a little longer then tried to grin, ouch. ‘No problem,’ I said. ‘It was a great idea, well executed. What do I care what she thinks anyway?’
His cheeks puffed out as he sighed in relief.
I wasn’t that scary, surely. ‘You must have some weird fetish picking up a tart with this face.’ I was referring to my bruises but realised too late it might sound like another dig for compliments, so added quick as I could, ‘Nobody would have guessed you were still at school either.’ I tilted my head and nodded. ‘Impressive bit of confidence there.’
He gave a cute little crooked smile. ‘You drink up and relax. I’ll use the bathroom first. I won’t take long and then you can have a long soak in the tub.’ He didn’t wait for an answer just disappeared with an armload of stuff through a door that matched the walls. Invisible bathrooms, fake IDs, this was his world but one I could
We stopped in another shop further along the street where Stuart bought some new gear and then we went to a chemist. He filled a basket full of various lotions and potions. I looked at the aisle upon aisle of beauty products. Painted girls with fluffy hair and talons that could pluck your eyes out studied the shelves. I wouldn’t have known where to start. Perhaps they taught such things in school alongside geography.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Stuart said.
‘Na.’ I tried to pull a face, still hurt. ‘It’s for girly girls, isn’t it? Not for the likes of me.’
He went to the desk to pay. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted him to say, but he could have said something. Even if I argued with him, told him off for being daft and patronising. I might have faked a blush and simpered a little and said, Yeah, right. My beauty is au natural. But no, he just walked away.
Chapter 13
Stuart carried all the bags and I limped alongside as best I could. The sun hadn’t set but started to dip behind the buildings, lengthening the shadows and cooling the streets. People moved quickly, their heads down, keen to get home. Stuart led the way to a hotel which looked all glass and period furniture. A bloke in a fancy tuxedo opened the door and kept his eyes on the ground. Talk about posh.
Not many places put real people on the doors or in their reception areas. At most hotels, people arrived and touched screens to check-in. They stood on scales and were weighed, measured, and given a spinal alignment assessment so they could be allocated beds that matched their exact physical requirements. But this hotel had a woman with blood-red nails and a beehive smiling at us from behind a blue granite desk. She wore an old fashioned tailored suit and high spiky heels.
When Stuart signed his name as J Frank I understood why he’d brought us for the pricier, personal touch. A top-tart receptionist is more easily fooled than a face recognition box. He showed her a fake ID and when she glanced at me he came over all authoritative. ‘She’s with me. She’ll only be here an hour or two.’
Oh nice. Consider me flattered.
‘Of course, sir.’ The woman’s face had such a thick layer of slap pasted over it she had the plastic look of a doll. ‘That will be an extra three hundred pounds.’
Holy Moly. For an hour? It had better be good. For that we should expect the full bundle. I stepped forward. ‘Any chance of some Hot Blue?’
It looked an effort, but she did manage to address me directly with polite, if tight, efficiency. ‘Of course, madam. I’ll have it sent up to Mr Frank’s room.’
The room turned out to be well smart. It was more like a giant bedsit with two full-size, squichy sofas and a solid oak dining table full of crystal glass and silver trinkets. The Blue arrived almost simultaneously. Stuart thanked and tipped the waiter and then we were alone. ‘Sorry about the, uh …’
I folded my arms and waited.
‘You know? The um … she’s here for an hour stuff.’
I watched him squirm for a little longer then tried to grin, ouch. ‘No problem,’ I said. ‘It was a great idea, well executed. What do I care what she thinks anyway?’
His cheeks puffed out as he sighed in relief.
I wasn’t that scary, surely. ‘You must have some weird fetish picking up a tart with this face.’ I was referring to my bruises but realised too late it might sound like another dig for compliments, so added quick as I could, ‘Nobody would have guessed you were still at school either.’ I tilted my head and nodded. ‘Impressive bit of confidence there.’
He gave a cute little crooked smile. ‘You drink up and relax. I’ll use the bathroom first. I won’t take long and then you can have a long soak in the tub.’ He didn’t wait for an answer just disappeared with an armload of stuff through a door that matched the walls. Invisible bathrooms, fake IDs, this was his world but one I could
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