Chapter 3 – To Kirrin
Julian pulled up by the club's stage entrance. He checked his watch, it was five minutes to nine so he sat and waited. He had said nine o'clock on the dot, so he would have to abide by his own edict.
He had told Gina that he didn't want to spend three hours in a car with her, but as he sat watching the stage door, waiting for it to open, he realised that wasn't true. Even just being in her company, knowing she hated him seemed preferable to the gulf that not seeing her in three years had created.
It was nine o'clock now and Julian began to feel the beginnings of irritation. He could not abide lateness. He sighed, and wondered how long he should wait until he knocked on that door? It occurred to him that Gina may have a large trunk, and was struggling to carry it down the stairs. He got out of the car and rang the doorbell until he heard the sound of movement from within. Prepared for Gina's annoyance at his incessant ringing, Julian was shocked when the door was opened by a man.
'This had better be worth it,' the man said, running an appraising eye over Julian.
Julian recognised him as the man that had held Gina in his arms the previous evening. Whilst last night he had assumed the hug was platonic, the fact that the man was here, where his Gina lived, at this time of the morning, wearing only a dressing gown, suggested a more intimate relationship.
'I'm here to collect George. Gina,' he corrected himself. 'Tell her I'll wait in the car.'
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'Wait!' Terry called. 'It's Julian isn't it? Gina's cousin? She said you'd be calling.' Terry found himself comparing Julian to Dick and Gina. When he had met Dick, he had been struck by his physical similarity to Gina; they could have been brother and sister. Julian was totally different in looks to them. He was taller and had a more muscular physique than Dick had. He was fair where they were dark, and there was a coolness about him that was in opposition to Dick's warm open manner although he saw that same coolness in Gina too sometimes. He could understand now why Gina had been apprehensive at seeing him. Julian had a sense of power about him; he was a man that Terry would not want to cross.
Julian turned back to face Terry, his face set hard. 'Are you engaged?' the words were forced through gritted teeth.
'Engaged? Me? To Gina?' Terry was so taken by surprise by the question that a gurgle of laughter burst from his lips. 'God no!'
'So you live with my cousin and have no intention of marrying her, what kind of man are you?'
'It's not like that, she and I, well, I don't. I mean…' Terry gave up. The doorstep of the club, wearing his dressing gown was hardly an appropriate place for that kind of conversation. 'Look, she asked me to let you know that she had gone to Kirrin on the first train. Said that she was worried about her mother, and she didn't want to delay by waiting for you.' The last bit was a lie. Gina had been gloating about standing Julian up, but as Terry stood wilting under his glare, he felt the need to mitigate her action. Here was a man that he did not want as an enemy, either for himself or for Gina.
Julian stalked back to his car leaving Terry to breathe a sigh of relief but worrying that Gina may be in for a difficult second reunion with her cousin.
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As Julian started the car and began the long journey to Kirrin, he felt relieved. The idea of Gina having any surname other than Kirrin had made him feel sick. He had fought so long to hide his feelings for her, even going so far as to convince Uncle Quentin that she should be a debutante with Anne. (1) Of course, he felt better knowing that Anne did not have to negotiate the social circuit alone, but it was only knowing how much George, as was, would loathe it, that he had been able to contemplate her having a season. When one of his best friends had actually shown an interest in his cousin, he had convinced Jeremy that Anne was a much better match for him.
He was disappointed at Gina for having left without him, but could hardly condemn her for being concerned for her mother, and wanting to get home as soon as possible.
He glanced at his watch. They had taken the first train to Kirrin many times during their teenage years. She would not be far from home now. He sighed and tried to relax for his long drive back to the place that he too considered home.
Gina was less than half an hour away from Kirrin Station when her watch showed her that it was 9 o'clock. The train was the same one that the five of them had travelled on many times. When she had boarded, she had briefly wondered whether to avoid sitting in their carriage, it being empty. Feeling a compulsion that had taken her by surprise, she had sat where he would sit, facing backwards, nearest the door. The adult position when travelling with children she now realised. Her place had been by the window, facing forward, diagonally opposite him. The place that the youngest child would beg to sit, she now realised with embarrassment.
'No wonder, you treated me like a child,' she said to their ghosts sat in the carriage with her. 'You must have laughed at my pathetic attempts to be like a boy!'
She felt a little guilty about leaving Terry to deal with Julian. Darling Terry. What would she have done without him?
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George was broken when she had arrived in London. She'd had money, enough to be comfortable: it didn't matter. Thanks to her season and boarding school, she even knew a few people in town. That didn't matter either. She had felt like she needed to concentrate on every breath she took because her lungs did not see the point of doing it for her anymore. Timmy's death had devastated her of course, but it was Julian's involvement that had left her feeling like she needed to eradicate every aspect of herself that he had been a part of.
Her and Anne had returned from a particularly boring weekend party at Freckleton Manor, Jeremy Thacker's country estate. Anne had mithered about Jeremy all the way home, and George had been none committal. Jeremy may have had the looks and the money, but George had seen the way that his dogs avoided him. If dogs didn't like somebody, then in George's mind they were not worth liking. Besides, anyone with half a brain could see how Guy Lawler felt about Anne (2). Dogs liked Guy and so did George.
Their train had pulled into Kirrin Station and Dick was on the platform waiting for them. Anne had waved, delighted to see him. George had hidden her disappointed that Julian had not been with him. She had, she now realised, always craved his company. With barely an acknowledgement of Anne, Dick had drawn her aside. Looking into his eyes, so like her own, she had known something was wrong before he had spoken the words.
'Timmy's died!' the words reverberated in her head like an echo in a cave. Unlike an echo it got louder and louder until it was a scream.
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For the first and only time in her life, George had fainted. When she came to, she was in the station master's office, Dick and Anne looking down on her with concern.
'How?' she demanded.
'Not really sure, Ju's being tight-lipped about it. There was an accident he says, and the vet said there was no chance of recovery. I told him that he should have called you first, but Julian said it would have been pointless spoiling your weekend. That you'd never have got back in time anyway. He'd discussed it with your father, but I only found all this out after Timmy had already been put to sleep. Julian was with Timmy right until the end though, George. He wasn't alone.'
'Spoil my weekend! Julian had my dog killed without bothering to call me because he didn't want to "spoil my weekend"?' George demanded, eyes blazing.
'Well yes, technically,' Dick looked uncomfortable. 'I did tell him that he should have called you but you know Julian. He always thinks he knows what's best.'
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'How dare you!' She swung a fierce right hook that caught Julian under the jaw and flung his head back. She had wished he would fight back as she knew he would against another boy, but against her, he stood and he took it. Blow after blow she rained down on him until her thumps became girlish slaps accompanied by choking sobs. He had tried to gather her into his arms then, but she punched him in the gut and ran from him. She'd stuffed a few clothes into a bag and left on the next train for London.
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Upon arrival, she had wandered aimlessly. Where she would live did not enter her head. She'd tried to mourn Timmy, but all she could think about was Julian. His total contempt, by taking the biggest decision of her life away from her, was obvious. Timmy was her dog, the decision was morally hers to make. Julian's attempt to comfort her, as if she were a child to be hugged and soothed made her grind her teeth. Especially, since there was part of her that had wanted to press herself against him, and believe that it would all be okay. How could she betray Timmy so readily? She hated herself almost as much as she hated Julian!
Full of self-loathing she walked passed a club. For all her boyish whims whilst growing up, George was a good dancer. The club was small but surprisingly tasteful in its décor. A well-dressed man sat at one of the tables by the stage, muttering over some paperwork. He looked up, surprise and relief at the interruption evident on his face.
'Can I help you?' he asked.
'I need a job,' she stated, 'dancing.'
He raised an eyebrow. Terry had told her later that whilst she hadn't looked like a typical erotic dancer, there had been something about her that had intrigued him. 'Okay, show me what you can do,' he said. Setting down his pen, he got up, placed a record on the turntable and watched her with expectant eyes.
Because she felt neither dead nor alive at that point, she had danced with no inhibitions. She had felt intoxicated almost, and more on instinct than with any idea of what would be expected of her in such a club, she began to remove her clothes whilst dancing in time to the music.
Terry had been surprised and watched transfixed until she had reached her underwear.
'Okay stop!' he shouted, scratching the needle across the record. 'Come by tonight, about half past eight. We'll fit you with some costumes and see how you go. Oh and we don't do full nudity here. The underwear is skimpy, but it stays on, understand? This is a club, not a brothel, if that's a problem for you then don't come.'
'No that's fine, I mean I'm not… Thanks,' she muttered embarrassed that he would even think that.
Hearing the obvious breading in her voice and seeing it in her bearing, he had softened. 'What's your name sweetheart?'
She'd hesitated, George was dead, she could feel her lying stone cold side by side with Timmy, both of them murdered by the traitorous Julian. Georgina had never been a name that she had identified with.
'Gina,' she heard herself say. 'Gina Kirrin.'
'I'm Terry, I own The Paragon.'
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She had surprised herself by being a popular erotic dancer, but Terry, who hated paperwork, soon realised that she had a shrewd business head. By the time she turned twenty-one, her dancing had taken a back seat to her co-managing The Paragon. When the solicitor had tracked her down with the papers to release her sizable trust fund, she had talked Terry into forming a partnership and realising his dream of opening a club in a more fashionable part of town.
Three years later, she was an independent businesswoman. She saw her mother away from the club whenever she came to town. She regularly saw Dick when his reporting assignments brought him back to London, and Anne too who had married and very recently divorced the vile Jeremy, but never him. Never Julian. Not until last night.
Footnotes
In the UK, Debutants were young ladies of marriageable age, from upper-class families who 'came out' that is they were presented to the queen and had a social season of parties. During this time, it was hoped that they would attract the attention of a suitable perspective husband.
GuyLawler, identical twin brother of Harry. Five On a Secret Trail.