[RiddleRose]: 298.Gold Dust - NaNoWriMo '07.Chapter four

Chapter four.

The first rendezvous turned out to be a police plot to catch him and put him in jail. He escaped without a lot of trouble, because the places he picked were always relatively close to good bolt holes, and he was a fast runner, but it was almost very close. He sat in a pitch black tunnel for a while, berating himself loudly, and kicking himself mentally for being so careless. He hadn't fallen for a trick like that in years. He had been so caught up with thinking about his new identity that he had forgotten to look for the little signs that could identify a plainclothesman. Stupid stupid stupid!

After a while he trudged out of the tunnel and into the street. The weather was colder now that the sun was down, and there were fewer people about. He hunched his shoulders against the wind and jogged down to the red light district. His next rendezvous was with a young couple down here. He had told them to meet him in a karaoke bar not far from where Neil lived. It was a bit of a joke, as he suspected that the couple had never set foot in the red light district in their lives.

However, he was apparently wrong. When he got there, the woman was singing and dancing up on stage to Madonna's “Like a Virgin”, wearing a tiny skirt, and a gold sequined halter top. Wren raised an eyebrow, impressed. He rarely misjudged people so badly. But then he saw her male counterpart, and stifled a smile. He was sitting bolt upright at a table, looking about as uncomfortable as a guy could be. 

Wren slid into a seat beside him, noting the gold ring and wristwatch that stood out sharply from the rest of his sober suit. “Hey man, nice to see you again!” he nodded towards the man's fiancée, who was now doing an encore, another of Madonna's songs, “Vogue”. “She's something, ain't she? You're a lucky guy. Incidentally, you might want to relax and enjoy, you're attracting attention.”

The man jumped, and sent a glare Wren's way, “Don't you look at her. That dancing is indecent! Flaunting herself that way. When we got engaged I told her I didn't want any more of that kind of thing.” 

Wren snorted, “you 'told' her? You TOLD a woman like that to do something, and you expected her to OBEY you? Boy, are you dumber than you look. That's an independent woman you got there. I can tell by the way she dances. You want some advice?”

“Not from you.”

“Too bad, you're getting some anyway, cause I feel bad for you. Here's what you do. Relax a little, go to some karaoke places with her. Let her know that you prefer if she wears slightly less revealing clothes, and maybe dances a little less provocatively. Ask her politely. On no account TELL her to do anything. Negotiate. She'll appreciate it. Now, I got business elsewhere, so lemme go get her. Be right back.”

Wren left the fellow with his mouth open, a look of shock on his face. He walked up to the stage, looked at his ostentatiously gold wristwatch, and shouted, “hey honey, lemme buy you a drink! All that singing musta made your mouth pretty dry!”. He winked too, just for good measure.

The crowd catcalled and whistled as they walked back to the table. Wren discreetly pinched her bottom and gave the crowd a wink, just to highlight his apparent intentions. They got back to the table her fiancée was glowering at, and Wren did get her a drink. She sipped it delicately while reassuring her boy that she was not going to have sex with Wren at this point in time, nor ever in fact, and that she just loved karaoke. 

While this was going on, Wren “dropped something”, bent down to “pick it up”, and slipped three bottles of Gold Dust into her purse. He also took the money that had been in the garter she was wearing, which gave him an excellent view, as well as the money. Straightening up, she winked at him, crossed her legs demurely, and waved goodbye as he got up to leave.

Outside of the hot and smoky karaoke place, the air seemed colder than ever. Wren was horrified to see the little girl from last night standing by the door as if waiting for him. She was still in her green dress, which had several layers, and looked like it was held out from her body by several petticoats. She still had her umbrella, which Wren saw, now that he looked closer, was actually a parasol. She smiled just as brightly as before, and said with a slight lisp, because of the gap where her tooth had fallen out,
“Escuse me sir, have you seen my brother? I was s'posed to bring him home for supper, but I can't find him at all. He ran off after the opera with some boys down the street sir, and we haven't seen him since. He's got yellow hair like mine, but he's not as pretty as me, and he's wearing a nice suit and a hat, but he lost his gloves, and mama's ever so annoyed. I 'spect papa'll spank him when he comes home you know, but only if he can catch him. My brother's awf'ly fast.”

She had a British accent, and her speech was remarkably quaint and old fashioned. After this speech she stood looking up at Wren expectantly, but all he could think of to say was, “Um, no, uh, no, I haven't seen him. Are you lost?”

“Oh, no sir! I know just 'zactly where I am. I'm right here sir! I should be getting home though sir, it's getting awf'ly dark out. I shall just have to tell mama and nursie that I couldn't find him. Papa will be ever so angry when he comes home. I 'spect he'll have one of his rages, and break crockery for a while. Mama says it's good he breaks crockery and doesn't beat my brother very hard, but nursie says the maids would rather he beat my brother, 'cause they have to clean up all the bits! I think it's funny when he breaks crockery. His face gets all red, and I'm the only one who can make him stop yelling. I just put on my pretty dress and sing him a song and then he laughs and says I'm his little princess! I wish I was a princess, then I could have a pretty crown to wear in my hair, just like the queen! Well, I really must get home, if you see my brother, do tell him from me that papa is very put out, and mama has a headache, and he better come home or else!”

And with a pretty little pouting frown, she simply... wasn't there anymore. She didn't walk away, she didn't slip down a hole, or behind something, she simply wasn't there anymore. Wren shook his head bemusedly, half shocked by her speeches, and half by the way she had just disappeared. He put a hand to his head, shook himself, and realized that he was almost late for his next appointment. He ran all the way there, slipping into the opium den, exchanging Gold Dust for money quickly, then back out. He absolutely despised opium dens, but they were completely perfect for conducting illegal transactions, being illegal themselves.

The next stop was the last, and also much later. Wren went to an all night café, and sat there nursing a chai for a while. He dozed, and dreamed of the little girl. She was walking along an old fashioned street, skipping occasionally, wearing a much more simple light pink and yellow dress. Her parasol was twirling behind her, a matching yellow, with embroidered pink flowers.

Suddenly a man stepped out of an alleyway, a man with dirt on his face, and holes in his clothes. She stopped in sudden fear, and called out, but Wren couldn't hear anything. It was as if his ears were blocked. The man grinned, showing yellowed teeth, and advanced. She began to run the other way, and he ran after her, catching up easily. 

But suddenly he swore, clutched his head, and dropped her. She was crying, but she ran away anyway, showing remarkable presence of mind. Now Wren saw that a stone had bounced off the man's skull. The man looked around for whoever had thrown the stone, and Wren saw a small boy of about ten. And suddenly he could hear. The boy was shouting, “Keep your hands off my sister you filthy scum! I'll call the bobbies on you! You just wait!”

The boy was holding a slingshot, and he fit another stone into it, pulling it back and twanging a rock against the man's head. This time the man fell unconscious. The boy whistled, and a whole pack of boys, all elegantly dressed, all filthy from running in the streets came running. Some of them surrounded the boy's sister, brushing her off, giving her sweets, and comforting her until she laughed at their antics. The others tied up the man and sent a contingent to go get the “bobbies”. 

Wren woke up just as the boy and his sister both looked straight at him.