Author's Note: Hello! I've finally managed to update this story after a shocking 22 months (looks at skeletons in the corner). I'm so sorry if you've been waiting so long for this story to be continued – I have had serious writer's block, I went travelling, my budgie died, etc…but enough of my excuses. Here are two chapters to go on with, and I promise not to leave it so long with the next update!
Chapter Eleven: Drowning Sorrows
Penelope arrived back at the hotel, generously tipping the parking valet as she entered the building. She was about to take the lift upstairs when something made her change her mind and instead she made a beeline for the bar area. There, a familiar figure was hunched over at the bar, scowling at nothing in particular. Penelope let out a small, short sigh and went and sat next to Jeff. He didn't acknowledge her, and she did not do anything to disturb him. The bartender came over to her and she quietly ordered a Pernod. Jeff knocked back the remains of his scotch and indicated that he wished for another. Penelope took a sip of her Pernod as she watched him unsteadily mutter to himself.
"How many?" she asked. He eyed her, seemingly annoyed at the interruption to his solitude of thought.
"Doesn't matter," he said after processing the question.
"I rather think that it does," Penelope replied. He simply grunted in reply and gratefully received his next drink. He took a swig.
"Well, let that be your last one, Jeff," Penelope said. "It's far too early in the day to be drowning your sorrows."
"And what would you know about my sorrows, Penny?" Jeff retorted. Penelope looked at him, patiently.
"Enough," she replied.
"No, no, no," Jeff said, at the same time shaking both his head and a finger. "No, you don't know. You don't know at all."
"I'd like you to explain, then," Penelope said.
"I don't have to explain anything to you," Jeff replied.
"Not usually you don't," agreed Penelope. "However, given recent events, I think that you need to talk."
"I thought you said that I did not have to discuss anything I was not comfortable with," he said, gruffly. Penelope did not reply to this, instead choosing to take another sip of Pernod. They sat in silence for a little while, Jeff lost in his hazy thoughts and Penelope happy to people-watch for as long as necessary.
"I suppose that you're not old enough to have regrets," Jeff said, breaking the peace.
"I believe that age has little to do with most things in life," Penelope replied. "But you are right in that I do not hold any serious compunction over my life - so far."
"Lucy never regretted anything, either," he mused. They lapsed into another silence. Penelope was glad to see that Jeff did not appear to want to order any more to drink. She looked at her own glass which was now roughly a quarter full. She had given herself the time that it took to drink the Pernod to get Jeff out of the bar and into his room. She needed to get things moving.
"Isn't it about time that you contacted Scott?" she asked.
"What for?" The blunt reply surprised her, but she was more than able to contain the emotion.
"Well, he'll want to know how you are, for a start." He simply grunted. She tried again.
"You'll need to tell him that you're planning to return home soon," she said.
"Boston," he said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Boston," he repeated. "I want to go to Boston." He began to look slightly agitated, as if trying to figure something out.
"I need my jet," he said to nobody in particular, and made to get off the bar stool. Penelope watched, both concerned and curious.
"I don't think that you're in the correct state of mind to fly a plane, Jeff," she said. He stopped and stared at her, as if wondering how she dare tell him what to do. Then he seemed to relent.
"We can take the Rolls," he said. "It won't take long in that, if Parker drives at top speed."
"I'm afraid that Parker is busy at the moment," Penelope replied. Her quick mind saw an opportunity.
"I'll take you to Boston, if that's where you really wish to go," she said. "On one condition."
"What's that?"
"You will go to your room and lie down for a couple of hours," she said, both gentle and firm at the same time.
"I need to go there now," he insisted. She looked him in the eye.
"Boston isn't going anywhere before the end of the day," she said. "And neither are you. Now, are we going to make a scene, or are we going to be sensible?" A slight arch of an eyebrow ended the sentence with a subtle but effective clout. Even when a little worse for wear, Jeff knew that there was a point where it was best to do as Lady Penelope suggested. He meekly allowed her to take his arm and guide him away to the elevators.
The afternoon passed by uneventfully. Parker heard nothing from Natasha's apartment except for the television and the usual sounds made by someone simply going about their business in their own home. He sighed as he peered once again over the edge of the roof of the building he was on, and saw nothing of interest on the street below. He looked at his watch. Hopefully Mr Tracy was not too distressed by Natasha's rejection. Suddenly Parker spotted a car pulling up outside of Natasha's apartment building. He watched as a man got out of the car and went inside the building. Years spent living amongst the criminal underworld had given Parker a good instinct for people, and he had a feeling that this man was about to pay Natasha a call. He adjusted the receiver in his ear in anticipation, and picked up the small transmitter. After a short pause, he heard the sound of someone knocking on Natasha's door. She didn't answer, and the knocking became more insistent.
"I know you're in there," the man's voice rasped over the receiver. There was still no answer.
"Answer the door!" There was still no answer. Parker heard the man mutter something to himself, though what exactly was lost beneath a rustling sound.
"So help me, Natasha, I'll blast your front door off and if I blast your head off in the process, well, it'll serve you right!" Finally there was the sound of footsteps, followed by the sound of the door being unlocked, opened and then shut again.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" the man's voice demanded.
"No need for that tone," Natasha replied.
"Don't tell me how I'm to speak to you," the man said.
"Or you'll do what? You're just someone who does all the running around. They'll have some serious questions for you if I'm harmed."
"You keep telling yourself that. You're not completely immune from being expendable."
"If that's the case, then why all the fuss?"
"You didn't report for work."
"I fancied a day off."
"Oh really?"
"I keep being told to blend into the wider community. So why not do what everybody else does once in a while?"
"Even if you did just decide to have a day off, you didn't report in. And since you don't get sick, there must be another reason for you not to turn up."
"Now we're going in circles."
"Give me a straight answer, dammit!"
"I don't have to tell you anything."
"Well, you can take your little charade to them, then."
"Get your hands off me!"
"I always said that you were trouble."
"And what gave you that impression?"
"You seem just a little too independent, if you ask me."
"I'm only following orders."
"Well, do yourself some good and do as I'm telling you to." Natasha didn't get a chance to reply as someone knocked on the door to her apartment.
Jeff groggily opened his eyes. Ugh. His mouth was dry and felt foul. He sat up slowly. Well, he appeared to be in his room at the hotel, but… He felt confused. What the heck was the time? It still appeared to be light outside, just about. How long had he been asleep? He was certain that he had been up this morning. He got up from the bed and wandered into the bathroom to splash some water over his face. He peered at his reflection, noticing for the first time the bags and dark circles and lines. Were they the result of the stress of the past few days or had he been developing them over a longer period of time? He did not get a chance to dwell on the matter, for a sound from the other room made him whip round.
"Hello?" He peered cautiously past the bathroom door.
"It's only me, Jeff." Penelope's voice came back to him. He breathed a sigh of relief and went through to the reception room. She was reading a magazine that she had picked up from somewhere and sipping a cup of tea.
"The tea is mine," she said, still looking at the magazine. "I always keep a box with me when I travel."
"I wouldn't have minded if you used mine," he said. She looked up at him.
"How do you feel?"
"I'd rather not think about it," he replied, going to pour himself a lemonade. He sat down opposite her, remembering now the events of the day so far with a degree of shame.
"Penny, I'm sorry if I came across as being an asshole," he said. She smiled at him.
"Oh, I've seen worse," she said.
"Really?" Jeff was both surprised and intrigued. She waved her hand, dismissively.
"Youthful indiscretions, amongst other things," she said, and changed the subject. "Parker is keeping an eye on Natasha at the moment."
"Oh." Jeff's mood dropped slightly.
"You're still sure that there is nothing here to investigate?" Penelope asked.
"Quite sure," Jeff replied, brusquely. Then his expression softened. "Truthfully, Penny, I don't know. I know that she isn't Lucy, however much I wanted her to be. Yet at the same time, I know without a shadow of a doubt that physically, she looks like Lucy and it goes beyond being a coincidental likeness."
"Was there anything that she said to you, no matter how small, that could provide a clue?"
"No, nothing," Jeff said. He frowned, recalling the conversation that morning. San Diego…Florida… She said that she had been born in Florida…
"How the hell did I miss that?" he said, out loud.
"Jeff?" Penelope looked at him. Jeff got out of his seat, suddenly looking more animated than he had done since their encounter with Natasha.
"She said that she was born in Florida in the year 2000," he said, gesturing with a hand. "We were still in Florida then."
"It seems an odd piece of information to divulge," Penelope said. "Unless she wanted you to investigate matters further."
"And I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice," Jeff said, with a shake of his head. Penelope rose from her chair too.
"I take it that this means you'll be staying here for a little while longer?"
"You bet."
"Good. Mysteries are always much more fun to solve when you have a friend working with you."