Update as promised. This was another toughie to write, so I hope it's ok. More angst I'm afraid, sorry, sorry I know, keep promising a pay off and there will be very, very soon! Thanks so much for all your reading, reviews, alerts and continued support, it always makes my day to read the fab feedback. I hope I have done the beloved Mayfair justice, the Gate sucks, flatten it and rebuild the old place I say!
I don't own anything, including the song titles/lyrics by New Order that appear in chapter titles etc. All songs mentioned were played at this gig, which again I am borrowing!
Chapter 7- Another picture, but the scene it's still the same
It was raining outside as they left the restaurant and made their way along the busy city centre street. A young couple rowed noisily outside a chip shop, groups of young men jostled and joked, couples huddled together to keep dry. A substantial queue was snaking its way down the street, the waiting crowd nestled against the buildings that lined the pavement for shelter. The smell of frying onions from a burger van wafted down the road. Newton was yet again dragging Alex down the path; virtually yanking her arm out of the socket, nodding and greeting various people as he rushed past them. Gene was confused. He scanned the row of youths in loud, fashionable clothing, and guessed they were heading to the same place, though they seemed to have long since passed the beginning of the line. He was unsure how he fitted in to this evening's plan. He was hardly typical of the clientele; Alex was yet again being swept off by that arsehole, yet insisted on his presence. It was easiest to assume she was pissed and didn't know what the hell she wanted.
"We're here," Craig said theatrically gesturing towards the entrance to the Mayfair, its name spelt out in pink neon above a covered entrance way. He led Alex up the steps towards the dark doorway, flashing his warrant card and sharing a brief joke with one of the burly doormen. Gene could see him conveniently producing two tickets from his jacket pocket, he was certain there wouldn't be a third for him. Alex was inside the doors by the time she managed to wriggle free from Craig and could look back for Gene, who she presumed was following close behind. The next wave of people was being allowed through the doors into the Box office area, obscuring her view out onto the street. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd for any sign of him.
"Craig, we need to wait for Gene, or go back for him, I can't see him anywhere," Alex pleaded. Craftily, Craig was already handing over their tickets to the rather bored looking girl in the kiosk.
"Ye' should have said, Alex. I've given the tickets in now, lucky I had them though, the laddo on the door says it's a sell out, thought it would be alright, you know three quid on the door, but no ticket, no way. Don't even think I could pull any strings, capacity crowd, fire safety and all that." Alex pressed her face to the glass, peering out into the street; there was no sign of him. Newton smirked to himself, but quickly corrected his expression to one of insincere, grim sympathy before she noticed.
"Probably changed his mind eh? Not really his scene I'm guessing," He slipped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder offering mock comfort. "Come on, we can still have a canny night anyway." His arm was snaking up her back, and she shrugged it away as she repressed the swell of tears. It was hardly wise to wander the streets of Newcastle looking for him. He hadn't even said goodbye. Reluctantly she allowed Craig to take her coat to the quiet cloakroom. "You know it's easy to tell you're from the down south," he said cheerily.
Alex looked at him perplexed. He held up the coat, "local lasses don't tend to wear coats." Craig laughed and she managed a weak, half smile. She did have a vague memory of that when she had been there before. It had been November and despite the howling wind all the women had tottered around the city in little dresses, mostly with bare legs, not a jacket in sight. With reluctance she made her way into the Mayfair Suite, sign posted overhead and illuminated in the signature pink neon. With its heavily patterned carpets and plush wallpaper in clashing colours and designs, Art Deco pictures, angular mirrors and trimmings, the place had an air about it that suggested it had once hosted more elegant and sedate events, most strikingly emphasised by the immaculate polished ballroom floor. A throng of youths were already filling the floor, bobbing to the sounds of 'The Wake' the support act for the evening. Others sat drinking and giggling in the even darker corners at the red seats arranged around shiny tables or in side booths. The air was thick and smoky; it was noisy, dark, the way clubs used to be. A balcony overhead allowed other revellers to look down on the grand dance floor below.
Gene stood outside in the rain for a moment, wondering what the hell he was doing there. He let out a deep sigh. She had disappeared inside, not even looked back. Resigned to heading back to the hotel alone, drinking himself into a stupor and staggering into an empty bed to sleep it off, he took one last look and grimly turned on his heels heading in the opposite direction to everyone else, making purposeful and angry strides, his head down, taking long drags on a cigarette that provided little comfort.
"Hey, Mr Hunt," a voice hollered from the street ahead. The accent was strong and local, he looked up at the approaching tiny frame of WPC Mason clacking along the pavement in white stilettos, what was pretty much a denim belt masquerading as a skirt and a denim jacket over a white lacy top, the jacket looked as if it wouldn't meet around her vast chest. Her small stature appeared to be doubled by the tremendous volume of her hair, backcombed and hair sprayed to within an inch of its life, in danger of bursting into flames if the cigarette she was holding carelessly wafted any higher. Her makeup was even thicker and brightly coloured than it had been during the day at the station. She was flanked by two similarly dressed, if slightly less attractive companions. "On ye' lonesome, pet?" she said nudging his arm cheerily.
He nodded, "looks that way."
"Oh please don't tell me, ye' haven't left her wi' him, tell 'es ye' haven't?" she said, her eyes wide with shock.
"Who, Drake?" he tried to sound unconcerned, "if yer mean is she in there, with yer mate Newton, then it would seem I 'ave."
Karen shook her head and sighed. "That tosser is not my mate fer starters. What ye' thinking about, leavin' her wi' him?"
"She's a big girl, can 'andle 'erself," he shrugged, and then reflected on just how horrified Karen was at the idea.
"Come on, I'll get ye' in, on your own after that." Before he could lodge any objections the tiny, but determined woman had linked her arm into his and was marching him back towards the club entrance. He found himself being led with an almost sheepish obedience. Karen bounded gleefully up the steps only to be scooped up and swept into the arms of one of the doormen, who with little effort had raised her clean off the ground, her legs swinging in mid-air, the skirt straining to protect her modesty.
"Alright, darling?" he said as he squeezed her in an affectionate bear hug. She planted an exaggerated kiss on his cheek as he set her back down onto her feet.
"D'ye love 'es, Steve?" she asked with a cheeky smile.
"What's the damage? Howay Karen ye' want something, always do when ye' being this nice."
"Four," she said pointing at Gene and her two friends, "and nee queuing up, pretty please." Her demeanour was almost impish, she clearly knew what she was doing and just exactly how to get her way. The bouncer examined Gene with slight suspicion. "Come on Stevie Babes, creepy Craig's abducted his lass."
"The posh, fit lass, aye seen them earlier. Ah go on then, since ye' asked so nicely. One thing though," he said turning to Gene, "if ye' fancy cracking that shithouse, be my guest, but not in the club eh bonny lad?"
Gene nodded in agreement, "fair enough." The doorman admitted them with a smile and a wink at Karen.
Making the best of the situation, Alex took a large swig of her drink and tried to enjoy the atmosphere. Craig leant closer than was necessary as he chatted and made jokes. Her eye was drawn to a familiar figure moving towards the bar. The warm smile that had involuntarily spread across her face turned quickly to a frown as she realised that Gene was not alone, nor did he appear to be looking for her. A wave of jealousy spread through her body, as she observed him with the girl she quickly recognised from earlier at the station. Attempting to suppress the rising bile, she desperately wanted to turn away but her eyes were fixed on him.
Gene had headed through the crowd in the direction of the neon bar sign. He looked for Alex, but it was hard to see anything in the dark and busy club. Once he reached the long, wooden bar he ordered himself a pint. Karen elbowed him and grinned. "Come on ye' owe me big style, your round I think," she said cheerily and pointed to herself and her two friends.
He sighed and shook his head. "Let me guess, it'll be my round next as well, love and yer all drink doubles." He waved the barmaid in the direction of the girls and handed over a note to cover what they had ordered.
"Nah, triples, but only if someone else is paying." He laughed and once more scanned the room looking for Alex. Sensing he was distracted Karen pointed up at the balcony above, "ye' might want to try from the balcony, best way to find someone. Where I always go if I lose my mates." She patted his arm kindly and he made his way towards first the gents, and then he would head up the stairs to gain a better vantage point. The girls waved and thanked him for the brightly coloured drinks they were sipping through luminous straws, wandering off toward a group of younger lads.
Alex was watching from the other side of the room, could see her touching him, unable to hear what was being said it gave the impression of intimacy. By the time a passing group had moved on and her view was restored Gene had gone, as had Karen. Determined not to let it ruin her evening, or worse cry, she hung on to the thought that it was his loss and if he preferred a twenty-something, bleach blonde tramp, wearing virtually nothing then there was very little she could do about it. She excused herself and headed for the ladies, she needed to regain composure. Once inside the safety of the toilets, she rested her arms on the sink and stared at her own reflection. She had no business being jealous, no right, but she was. She raked angrily in her handbag and reapplied her lipstick and hurried out before she lost herself in her thoughts. Not watching where she was going she turned out of the door back onto the corridor and walked straight out into somebody, the contents of her bag scattering to the floor. "Sorry," she muttered, crouching down and gathering up her possessions. Her eyes met an instantly recognisable pair of cowboy boots; she just had the time to suck in a breath before he joined her picking up the items from her bag.
"'ere," he said pressing the lipstick he had retrieved into her hand. The feeling of his fingers on hers, the warmth of his hand made her heart pound. She looked up slowly, their eyes meeting, sparkling, locked on each other. She shook herself out of it, remembering that he was not there with her.
"Thanks," she said brusquely, snatching her fingers away from him. "Having a good time?" she snapped.
"Could be better, Bols. You and the giant sperm enjoying yerselves?" he asked with a half smirk.
Alex giggled as she visualised Craig in his head to foot white outfit. Gene offered her a hand to help drag her to her feet. She leant back against the vividly patterned wallpaper. Gene pressed his palm flat against the wall just above her shoulder, almost pinning her there."So, Bolly, in the restaurant, what the 'ell was all that about?"
"All what?" she said shrugging, though the flush in her cheeks gave away that she knew fine well what he was talking about.
"Under the table, as I recall your foot was winding its way up my leg," he raised an eyebrow.
"I...I...was just..." she struggled for words as he leaned in closer, his intense stare fell from her eyes to her mouth as she gulped and licked her dry lips, shuffling uncomfortably, virtually squirming at his questioning.
"Just what?" he drew even closer, her breath grew short.
"Alex, there ye' are!" came a shout from Newton, the moment dissolved and Gene drew away. "I see ye' made it then, Gene," his forced smile more of a grimace.
"We should..." Alex pointed, feeling awkward and self-conscious, "it'll be starting soon."
The three of them made their way up to the balcony, securing a place right at the front. The lights dimmed, the dance floor below now full. The crowd cheered as the lights kicked in and New Order played the first track, 'In a lonely place'. Alex often felt that was exactly where she was, her eyes turned to Gene Hunt, smoking irately, her constant, there to save her, always there when she needed him, grumpy and angry, at times she could kill him, but...she sighed. "So, what do you think?" she asked, not holding out much hope for a positive response, judging by his facial expression.
"Can't see what all the fuss is about myself."
"Aw man, they're awesome, we should get down there in amongst it ye' know, Alex," Newton chipped in.
She studied Gene's face, saw no noticeable response. "You coming?" she said tugging at his sleeve.
"Gene Hunt does not dance, especially not to this," he would have felt like an idiot, looking down at the sea of young faces and considering his own. Alex gave him a pouty plea, but he shooed her away, at least he could keep an eye on proceedings from this new vantage point, more precisely keep an eye on Newton, who had quickly seized the opportunity to once more get her alone, hoping that his luck wasn't out just yet.
The crowd were cheering the end of the first song, and the second had just kicked in. "Chosen Time," Craig said, nodding and giving a somewhat lame thumbs up to Alex.
The idea of time and choices played on Alex's mind. "Do you suppose this is mine? Where I'm meant to be? I put in for this you know; maybe I wanted to be here, somewhere, deep in my subconscious." Craig looked perplexed.
"Wow, that's deep babe," he said, considering it a good save, since he had no idea what she was going on about. Alex berated herself for thinking too much and tried hard to throw herself into the moment and enjoy it, making her way through the lively, smiling crowd gathered in front of the stage. Her eyes shot up to Gene, taking a long draw on his cigarette and suddenly being joined by Karen at the balcony. That decided it. She would enjoy the evening that was evidently a lost cause.
"Found her then," said Karen nodding down toward the DI being dragged deeper onto the heaving ballroom floor. Alex observed as the girl helped herself to a long gulp of Gene's pint and a draw of his cigarette and turned her head away.
"Do yer ever pay for a drink?" he said with a half smile.
"Not if I can help it," she winked back, "but tell me seriously, do you two need ye' heeds clashing together or what?" She shook her head and placed her hand on her hips, the pose indicating that this diminutive, yet gobby woman was about to give him a telling off of some sort.
"What yer prattling on about, woman?"
"Come off it, you and her. Old Blakey at the station might write me off as too thick and blonde to make a detective, but Christ it doesn't take Sherlock bloody Holmes to work that one out. Saw it a mile off."
"What yer after, Karen, from me?" he examined her questioningly.
"Well not ye' if that's what ye' mean. For starters I'd be wastin' my time, only got eyes for ye' DI. Clocked it the second you two walked in, especially when wor' Craig there rocked up with his sleaze routine. I was hoping ye'd spark him out, shame ye' didn't really. Ye' could put in a word for me with the DCI, say I've been helpful and all that."
"So, me, and her, that what yer think is it?"
"Ar don't think it pet, I know it. Plain as day." She gave a firm nod, as if she were explaining some misdeed to a naughty child.
"Yer way off love, no interest in her at all." It was a conscious attempt to hide the fact that she was right, and he suspected that she wasn't fooled in the slightest, and was far brighter than her colleagues probably gave her credit for.
"Ok, aye, right, that's why ye' have done nowt but watch her down there wi' him, and she keeps lookin' up here at you every five seconds. Watch and learn..." Karen shuffled closer to him and tugged his tie to bring him closer to her height. She leant in and whispered in his ear, "now, watch her, any second now she'll have a shifty glance up here, think ye' trying to get in my knickers and she'll turn up the heat a bit down there." As if on cue, Alex responded as Karen had predicted, dancing a little closer to the overly eager Craig, exaggerating her laugh and smile. Even Gene had to acknowledge to himself she had a point.
"What's this psycho-bollocks, you and 'er should talk, get on like an 'ouse on fire. Comes out with this sort of shit all the time, don't take any notice of 'er either." He could just about swallow that she might guess he'd be interested in Alex; it wasn't a huge intellectual leap to imagine he might want a woman who looked as good as she did and God did she look good tonight, the idea that might be reciprocated was way off the mark. He could write the game of footsie off as booze, even boredom, maybe it wasn't even meant for him at all.
"Right, next song is the decider." The band struck up once more and the first few bars sent Karen into a fit of giggles.
"What you laughing at? Better not bloody be me."
"Denial." She replied with a smug grin, pointing in the direction of the band. Gene scowled at her.
Karen's two friends appeared at the balcony, one clearly making a string of complaints about some boyfriend or other not behaving as he should be. Gene tuned out and watched Alex intently, the way her body moved, the dark fabric of her dress clinging to every curve, watched her rake her fingers through her hair and ruffle it. She was beautiful, perfect, a lost cause. He sighed. WPC Mason gave him a knowing look, "gotta go or Tracey is gonna blow her top, see ye' later. Oh and tell her will ye' please."
"Piss off, Karen," he said without any real bite and he was left alone again.
Down on the dance floor Alex was doing her best to ignore Gene, although she did note his companion seemed to have disappeared from view. It hadn't been too bad, though she had found it necessary to slap away the odd wandering hand. Her eyes yet again snapped back to her DCI, leaning forward and resting his forearms against the barrier that ran around the balcony. There had been times when it looked as if he was watching her, but he seemed to be staring straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts. Craig followed her gaze.
"He's a miserable old git, your DCI," Newton laughed.
"What? Oh he was his moments, he's not so bad when you get to know him, really, he isn't."
"No way, it's like bringing your granddad to a club. Bet the bloke's never read a book in his life either. Don't know how you put up with him, or why you bother. He's an arsehole."
Alex felt a tide of anger creeping up through her body, who was he to insult Gene, her Gene. He didn't even know him and she guessed he wouldn't dare repeat it to his face.
"How dare you?" she said with outrage.
"Aw, come on, Alex," he shrugged, "I just meant..."
She cut him off, "I know what you meant and let me tell you, if you were even half the copper, half the man he is, you'd be a damn sight better than you are now."
"Babes, come on," he said trying to back pedal, amazed she was taking this so personally. He reached out a hand to her shoulder, but she shoved him away.
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, "just piss off, Craig," she spat as she turned to try and weave her way through the crowd, all moving in the opposite direction, as the final track, 'Temptation' started to blast out to the excited crowd.
TBC
Let me know how if it was ok!
Smut very very soon!!!
