'… And that's where it all really began,' Pop concluded.
The old man sat in his favourite chair, surrounded by young faces. There were some faces, he noted with a grin, that were not so young; Galileo and 'Scaramouche', as Sally was now known, stood hand in hand at the back, evidently content with Pop's retelling of the story. Elizabeth stood with them, now firmly integrated into Bohemian society.
'But Uncle Pop!' a small voice wailed from somewhere near the front, 'You can't finish there! It's not the whole story!'
Pop glanced down at the huddle of children sitting at his feet, a couple had fallen asleep and were dozing contently, but the majority were wide awake, and like the speaker clamouring for more. Pop's eyes settled on a small dark-haired girl who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, evidently more awake than the rest of the children, and some of the adults, put together. Even at three years old Freddie was the spitting image of her mother, and was already sick of people telling her so.
'I know it's not the whole story, but, if I finish it tonight, there won't be any more for tomorrow night, will there?' Pop said patiently, knowing it was hardly worth the effort of refusing. Like her mother, Freddie had a knack of getting her own way.
'Yes, but if you finish tonight, you can tell me a different story tomorrow,' Freddie said with an impishly imploring grin.
'But Freddie, what about the others? Wouldn't they like to hear the end of the story?'
Freddie scowled petulantly, folding her arms, 'Not as much as I would.' Knowing that eventually she would be able to wrap the old man around her little finger, she changed her approach, 'Please Uncle Pop?' she said quietly, knowing that he wouldn't refuse her.
She was proved right as Pop sighed, 'Alright then Freddie. As long as you promise to go to bed when it's finished.'
'I promise,' Freddie said with a delighted grin. 'Thank you Uncle Pop.'
'Freddie,' Scaramouche called warningly from the back of the room, 'are you being a nuisance to Pop?'
Freddie jumped and spun round; she hadn't known her mother was there. She shook her head, 'No. Uncle Pop likes telling me stories.' She turned back to Pop, waiting impatiently for him to continue.
'It's okay kid, I don't mind,' Pop said to Scaramouche. He turned back down to Freddie, an expression of ecstasy on her small face, 'Now, where was I?'
'Mummy had just hit Shania,' she said with a slight childish lisp, 'and was talking to Gramma Lizabeth.'
'Ah, yes,' Pop said with a smile, putting on his story telling voice, leaning back in his chair.
'Well, then Gramma Lizabeth looked up, tears running down her face, after all, she had just seen the love of her life killed in front of her.' Scaramouche shot a sideways glance at her mother, though she knew her mother had heard the story a thousand times, she still reacted differently to it. This time, however, Elizabeth was listening intently, confirming in her own mind that Pop was telling the story as it should be told.
'She didn't say anything, just nodded, acknowledging that she had been wrong to doubt your mother's reasons for running away. Then, your father remembered that the Police were likely still there, but when he turned round to make them leave, they had vanished, just as silently as they had appeared.' He was changing the story slightly, knowing that the full course of events wasn't suitable for the child; the Secret Police had still been there, and had tried to take Edward's body with them, in an attempt to fabricate a story for the death of the senior partner of a leading Globalsoft firm, but they had quickly realised that it was best to leave the body if they valued their lives. As a parting gesture of friendship, Khashoggi had delivered the ultimatum that they now had to live outside the bounds of the law; from that moment they were outcast from society.
'With the Secret Police gone,' Pop continued, getting into his stride, 'Your Gramma and mother stayed with the body, while your father came to find me, good chap that he was. And a good thing it was too, because I was the one who brought them here, to the Heartbreak Hotel and the others like them, The Bohemians-'
Freddie interrupted him, 'But what had happened to you Uncle Pop? Why did you need finding?'
Pop glanced up at Galileo and Scaramouche for guidance, wondering how much he should tell the child. Scaramouche shook her head briefly, the half truth would do for now, events with no reasons behind them. 'Well, the Secret Police, nasty men that they were, didn't like me very much so they bopped me on the head with one of their truncheons, knocking me out until your father found me.'
'Oh,' Freddie dismissed his reasons, 'What happened next Uncle Pop?'
'Well, like I said, I brought your mother, father and gramma here to join The Bohemians, a place where your mother and father at least, finally belonged.' He grinned conspiratorially at Freddie, 'I think two failed attempts at getting hitched had weakened their resolve, but either way, I never did finish the service.'
Freddie yawned loudly, much to her indignation. 'What next?'
Galileo and Scaramouche laughed at her attempts to hide her tiredness, 'Freddie, I think it's time for bed, don't you?'
Freddie scowled at them, 'No. I'm not tired,' she said, trying to stifle another yawn.
'I think you are Freddie,' Scaramouche said patiently, 'come on, bed.' Freddie glared at her, and Scaramouche laughed again, 'Uncle Pop can finish the story tomorrow, and you'll appreciate it more then.' She walked over to where Freddie sat alone, the other children had long since been taken to bed. Freddie protested loudly, but didn't resist. 'And look, you're the only one still here,' she said to her grumbling daughter. 'I'm just going to put her to bed, I'll be back in a bit,' she said, turning to the others.
With Freddie gone the atmosphere visibly relaxed, the tension easing. Galileo gave a slight laugh, 'Way to be economical with the truth, Pop.'
Pop grinned, 'I pride myself on my ability to 'spin a good yarn' as it was once put.' Elizabeth flushed pink at the reference to what she had said after several drinks too many soon after they had arrived at the Heartbreak. Pop had enjoyed embellishing their story until the truth was hazy, obscured with lie upon lie. After a moments puzzled thought he added, 'It was okay, wasn't it? What I said, I mean. Not too far from the truth, but not close enough for it to be inappropriate?'
Galileo gave a soft laugh, 'It was fine, Pop. We know as well as you do that you can 'spin a good yarn'.' Silence overtook them, each of them thinking about the part they had played, their lives inextricably entangled by young love.
Scaramouche quickly returned, 'She's fast asleep. Thanks for that Pop, you could almost believe that was what happened.' She trailed off, lost in thought.
'It wasn't though, was it?' Elizabeth spoke for the first time that evening, 'There's no point dwelling on what might have been, my love.' She glanced up at Galileo, 'He'll tell you that as sure as I do. What happened happened, and all you can do is learn from it, and look to the future. It was five years ago, you can't change it.'
'I know… I just…'
Galileo put his arms around her, as he had done so those five years ago when she had turned up on his doorstep, a runaway. 'Hey,' he said softly, 'it's okay. I'm still here, and I'm gonna be here for a long time, whether you like it or not.' He pushed her away slightly, so her head was no longer buried in his chest and raised it with one long, bony finger, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled down at her, 'It'll take more than a couple of guards to get the better of me; I'm a survivor, a fighter, alright?'
She sniffed and nodded, 'I'm being silly aren't I?'
He shook his head, 'Don't be stupid, of course you're not. To be honest, I'd be worried if the thought of my death had any other effect on you.' She managed a weak smile, still haunted by how close he had come to death. It was all right for him, he wasn't the one who would have been forced to watch. Her mind played over the 'what ifs' that had been haunting her for years. What if she hadn't known Galileo and Shania? What if Khashoggi hadn't suddenly shown a sense of humanity and human decency? What if Galileo had died? What if they hadn't found Pop? What if her father had lived? What if her mother hadn't acted how she did?
Sally was looking down at her mother, her heart pounding. There was so much she had said, and still so much left unsaid that had been rotting away, but before they talked, properly, something they had never done before, she had to know. 'Mum…?'
After a long moment Elizabeth had looked up, tears streaming down her face, she shook her head softly, 'I-I-I'm so sorry my darling…he…he's g-g-gone,' she hiccupped through the tears. Galileo stepped up beside Sally and took her hand, looking down on Elizabeth. Elizabeth swiped ineffectively at her tears which had all but ceased, leaving her face streaked and glistening. She stood up shakily, staring down at her husband on the ground, before turning to the pair standing nervously in front of her, 'Gordon,' she acknowledged him brokenly. 'I-I…' Galileo and Sally both knew this was the closest to an apology that they would get, and accepted it as such.
Galileo had nodded, 'I know-'. A groan had interrupted him and he turned to see Pop lying on the floor, regaining consciousness after his attack by the SP. He had started to walk towards him when the SP cut across his path.
'Leave him. We have other matters to attend to.' Khashoggi had stepped forward, back straight, eyes cold, voice harsh. 'Mr Smith obviously cannot stay here. We will take the body back with us. An explanation needs to be thought of for his unfortunate and untimely death.'
Elizabeth stepped backwards, towards Sally and Galileo, 'No… no…you can't…,' she said, trembling, shaking her head.
Khashoggi laughed cruelly, 'I think you'll find I can.'
To his surprise, Galileo found himself speaking, and, for once in his life without stuttering. 'No. You can't do this to her because of a problem you have with me. It's got nothing to do with them,' he said gesturing to Sally and Elizabeth, who stood in stunned silence. 'Please… let her have him. He's nothing to you.'
Khashoggi evidently hadn't expected any form of resistance, least of all from him, and he was lost for words. He glared at Galileo, 'Don't interfere you stupid boy.'
Galileo's defiance had given Elizabeth a voice and she flew at Khashoggi, 'No!' she had screamed. As she pummelled his chest the Commander nodded to one of his officers who dragged Elizabeth off him. She screamed again, louder, 'NO!', and spat at him as she was dragged off.
Khashoggi had laughed again, mind working fast, 'Very well. If you are so determined, you may keep the corpse.' He gave a command to his men, and as one they filed out of the scrap heap, leaving Galileo, Sally and Elizabeth standing together in the centre, bemused. Khashoggi was the last to leave, having forced a reluctant Shania to follow his men.
'Is that it then?' Sally had asked, 'You change your mind just like that?'
Khashoggi turned slowly, 'Oh, I'm sorry. It must have slipped my mind. You have to leave. You are no longer part of the Globalsoft Society. His,' he gestured to Edward, 'death makes it impossible for you to remain, unless we have his body. You made your decision in that respect. There is an underground movement, The Bohemians, no doubt you have heard of them-'
Elizabeth's face coloured with fear. Khashoggi laughed, 'Oh, so you have. I suggest you join them. I'm sure they will be happy to have you… if you can find them. You're no use to our society. Three more against us won't hurt. Oh, and if sunrise finds you in our world… I will not be so lenient.' Not waiting to see if they would reconsider he turned and marched out of the scrap heap after his men.
After a moment they were sure they had been left alone, Galileo went to Pop who had been groaning in pain throughout Khashoggi's departing statements. He helped Pop to stand, and after a while it had transpired that Pop had been groaning for effect as the effect of the stun gun had been fleeting after he awoke.
With Pop stabilised and Elizabeth reassured about the Bohemians they left the scrap heap hurriedly, Edward in a wheelbarrow. Elizabeth's protestations that he needed something a little more dignified had fallen on deaf ears. Pop was adamant, in their current predicament dignity had no hold, and if they found the Bohemians conditions would be far from dignified.
The touch of Galileo's hand on her shoulder snapped Scaramouche out of her reverie. She glanced up, blinking furiously.
'You okay?' he asked softly.
She nodded, 'Yeah, I was just thinking… it doesn't seem that long ago.'
'I know, but it is, and we can put it well and truly behind us, yeah?' He looked down at her, his dark hair falling in his eyes. Automatically, she reached up and brushed it aside. Ignoring her, he continued, 'Here's to the future, babe, for the dreams of youth,' and raised an imaginary glass, giving her a soft smile.
Pop laughed, 'Is that a hint that you'd like a drink, kid?'
'If you're offering I won't say no.'
'Your usual?'
'Please.'
Scaramouche coughed loudly, pointedly.
'Yes?' Pop asked, deliberately being ignorant. A look of realisation passed across his face, Oh…. You want a drink!' he said, pleased with himself.
'Yes,' Scaramouche snapped at him, harsher than she'd intended, still unnerved by their escape from Globalsoft and subsequent meeting with the Bohemians.
They were moving steadily across the wasteland, having slept for a few hours in the middle of the day, avoiding the heat and the prying eyes of Globalsoft. Pop was adamant he knew where they were going, but to the others they were going round in circles, with no clear idea of their destination.
'Mr… um… Mr… Pop…' Elizabeth ventured, almost unable to acknowledge him, so different was he to her view on how a person should be. 'Where, exactly, are we going?' she asked sharply, her voice clipped.
Pop had turned back with a laugh, 'We're going down.'
'Down? Down where?!' Elizabeth asked, her voice raised shrilly.
'Down there.' Bending down, Pop swung open a trap door.
The door creaked ominously as it moved, the wood wet and rotting, held together by rusting iron bars. 'Down literally?!' Elizabeth's voice became even shriller, her eyes wide with apprehension.
'Yup,' Pop said with a grin as he slipped tentatively into the hole, climbing down a short makeshift ladder. 'What are you waiting for?' his voice called up a moment later, 'You heard Khashoggi, you can't stay up there anymore.'
'What. About. Edward?!'
There was silence from the hole, Pop had evidently forgotten about the man in the wheel barrow, pushed by Galileo. 'We'll just have to bring that with us then,' Pop called back after a moments hard thought, poking his head up out of the hole, his hair coated in dust and a purple smudge on his forehead showing the beginnings of a livid bruise. 'Give's a hand, kid,' he said to Galileo, who took his outstretched hand and hauled Pop to the surface with a force that neither of them were prepared for, causing Galileo to fall backwards and Pop to fall unceremoniously at his feet in a cloud of dust from the dry dirt.
Sally laughed, then flushed pink under a glare from her mother, 'Sally,' she began sharply, 'it is not proper to laugh at the misfortune of others.' Sally rolled her eyes but said nothing. The dust cleared slowly, settling on Pop, Galileo and, to Elizabeth's horror when she realised, Edward.
'Err…, thanks for that, kid,' Pop said shakily, getting to his feet brushing off liberal amounts of dust.
Galileo followed Pop's lead and got to his feet with a grin, 'Quite alright.'
'If you're quite finished,' Elizabeth snapped, bringing their attention to the matter at hand.
'Right!' said Pop, clapping his hands together with gusto, 'Ladies, down the 'ole if you please.' Sally frowned but climbed down the ladder uncomplainingly, giving Galileo a reproachful departing look. 'Ma'am,' Pop gestured to the hole.
Elizabeth glared at him, 'Are you absolutely sure this is necessary?' Pop nodded grimly in mock seriousness. 'I really-' she started, attempting to make her disapproval felt.
Sally, however, cut her off impatiently, 'Oh, quit complaining mother and get down here.' In the gloom Sally dimly saw her mother appear down the ladder and come to a halt next to her. Though she could not make out her mother's exact expression in the half light, she knew it was one of disgust, nose wrinkled, lip curled, eyebrows furrowed.
'Well!' Elizabeth's voice was tinged with contempt and indignation.
'Catch!'
At the call from Pop the two women instinctively moved backwards out of the way, knowing he was just as likely to throw Edward's body down as himself. It was just as well that they had moved as the wheelbarrow crashed to the floor of the tunnel at the foot of the ladder. 'It doesn't sound like that was caught,' Pop laughed as Galileo appeared and sidestepped the wheelbarrow before righting it. 'You really need to catch this one,' he called warningly as, slowly, a pair of feet followed by legs and a torso appeared.
Galileo grabbed Edward by the ankles, 'Okay Pop, I've got his feet.'
'That won't do! You two, stop being lazy and take a side each.' Realising Pop's instructions were directed at themselves Sally and Elizabeth did as they were instructed and each took one of Edward's legs as Pop slowly lowered him further and Galileo manoeuvred him into the wheelbarrow. That done, Pop descended the ladder a second time and resumed his position behind the handles of the wheelbarrow. With a jerk, the barrow moved off, closely followed by Elizabeth who had determined not to let her husband out of her sight, but Galileo and Sally bringing up the rear.
The tunnel was dark and dank, much to the surprise of the others to whom it closely resembled a rabbit warren. After a long while and many turns, Pop stopped abruptly. Though their eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of light they realised that the little light there was was getting stronger. They stood in silence, waiting for Pop to turn and say something.
A soft breeze blew through their section of the corridor, as though somewhere further down the tunnel a door had been opened and closed. The wind brought with it a whisper of noise. The faint sound of a beat, music and laughter. Life. Pop turned to face their puzzled expressions and said almost reverently, 'The Bohemians.' The words echoed softly around the passage with a touch of the music that had drifted by moments before.
The three weary travellers breathed an audible sigh of relief. Pop smiled softly, 'Come. They're waiting for you.' Without waiting for a reply Pop picked up the wheelbarrow and started off down the tunnel.
Recovering herself slightly quicker than her mother and Galileo, Sally ran after Pop. 'Pop…' she began tentatively, 'Did you say they were waiting for us?'
'Yes.' Her confused look told him a longer answer was required, 'Where else did I go last night?' he said simply, setting down the wheelbarrow handles, giving a slight shrug. Galileo and Elizabeth had recovered their composure and caught up with the two slightly ahead of them, listening attentively. 'I said I was bringing new recruits. They're looking forward to meeting you.'
'Oh, well, let's not keep them waiting,' Elizabeth said practically, knowing they would not be expecting her or Edward.
Pop nodded and started off again, coming to a halt at the bottom of another flight of steps. He tapped sharply on a plank of wood, acting as a makeshift door before moving it aside and leading them through into blinding light and a blur of vibrant colour, forcing them to blink long and hard.
An unfamiliar voice added to their disorientation, 'Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel!'
Their silent thoughts were interrupted by Meatloaf's arrival, 'New recruits to see ya sir,' she said to Galileo with a wink before she left just as abruptly as she had arrived, in a flash of blonde hair, fishnets and leather.
Galileo and the others laughed at her hyperactivity, as used to her nature as they had been afraid of it when they first arrived. Galileo lead Scaramouche out after Meat with a laugh, 'Any way the wind blows, babe.'
