Ch. 9
John groaned as he saw who had tapped him on the shoulder. Stephanie Denver was smiling up at him, her grey power suit striped with a rather shocking pink. He was sure Tin-Tin would have a fit at the amount of make-up this woman was wearing if she saw her. He forced a polite smile on his face.
"Good morning, Miss Denver."
"Stephanie, please," she said with a high laugh that sounded as false as her nails. "I saw you yesterday, but I never had a chance to speak to you. Are you enjoying the talks?"
"The ones I saw yesterday, yes," replied John, frantically looking for Brains whilst trying to not look like he was frantically looking for Brains.
"I was wondering if you were free this lunchtime? I know they provide a buffet, but I was thinking about going to the little Italian restaurant across the street. Soup, sandwiches and cold meat can only satisfy for so long." Again, she tittered.
"I'm sorry; I'd rather stay here for lunch, if that's alright with you. I don't mind cold food."
Stephanie paused, her eyes losing their false merriment.
"I think you'd prefer the food in the Italian across the street. Or, if you don't fancy it at lunchtime, how about this evening? Say, seven?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm meeting my fiancé this evening." He felt cruel saying it, but this woman had to learn he was not available.
"Your... alright," she said, the false merriment trying to come back into her eyes, though John noticed they were tinged with disappointment. "That's fine; I thought I'd just... ask, you know... Peanut slice?" she asked, holding out a plate from the table beside them.
"Sorry, no thanks, I'm allergic," replied John. He finally spotted Brains at the other side of the room, talking to Catrìona and Radcliffe. "I've gotta go..." He hurried away.
TB
Harold Meyer glared reproachfully at the unaware back of Catrìona MacLeod. The woman had resisted his attempts to ask her out for the evening, quite rudely, he hastened to add. For him, this was a challenge, one he wasn't willing to give up on. The fact that she was playing hard-to-get made her all the more attractive. Why she preferred hanging around with the stuttering imbecile and the ancient toff, he really had no idea. Sure, Radcliffe was more around her neck of the woods, but Hackenbacker? What she saw in him, Meyer was sure he didn't know. He wondered if perhaps she was simply using him to get to the Tracy boys.
He watched as the blonde one made his way over to them. Which one was he again? Alan or John? One was an astronaut, the other a racing driver, but Meyer had no interest in such things.
He felt a surge of annoyance as Catrìona greeted Tracy warmly. In his mind, this only confirmed his suspicions. Meyer didn't understand what she saw in him either. Sure, he had money, but so did Meyer. As for charisma, Meyer was sure he was a bit more well-endowed than the pale, skinny Tracy over there. Wasn't he supposed to live on a tropical island or something? Meyer wasn't convinced.
His reverie was broken by the Denver woman stepping up on the stage and asking everyone to go to their seats. She'd been quite keen on Tracy as well. For once in his life, Meyer felt threatened. Sure, his business had been threatened from time to time, but he'd always come out on top. He could do the same here.
TB
Scott allowed the music coming from Virgil's piano to soothe him for a moment. Then, he sat up bolt right, aware that he'd almost fallen asleep. Virgil hit a wrong chord and sighed.
"Scott, that's the third time you've done that in the last five minutes. Gordon's done his prank for today; he'll have got it out of his system." Scott scowled.
"The fish never gets it out of his system, Virge," he said, rubbing his face wearily.
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for him, how's that?" said Virgil, turning back to the keyboard. "I just don't want to have to put up with you being cranky because you've missed out on your nap." Scott laid back, one eye still open.
"Virge, I do not get cranky because I haven't had a nap," he said.
"I beg to differ," muttered Virgil, once again losing himself in Debussy's Claire de Lune. Scott felt himself drifting away through the beautiful, delicate high chords. Virgil seemed to be losing himself in it just as much. That is, until he reached the low E. Scott cracked open an eye and stared quizzically at his brother.
"Virge, what's wrong with the piano?" he asked.
"I don't know," muttered Virgil, playing the E again. There it was again, an unmistakeable buzzing sound. He played the notes around it, and they too buzzed. Frowning, Virgil stood up and peered inside the piano.
"Gordon," he growled, reaching inside and pulling something out.
"What's he done?" asked Scott wearily, sitting up. Virgil waved a piece of paper at him.
"Stuck this bit of paper on the strings inside so they buzz. He's done it before." He held it on front of him. Scott could just make out Gordon's hand-writing on it.
"What's he saying?"
"Oops, I guess it wasn't meant to sound that way, was it?" Virgil scrunched the paper up in his fist. "I hear fish are good with chips," he growled. Scott simply smiled. He didn't envy anyone who got between Virgil and his music. He stood up and put an arm round his brother's shoulders, leaning in conspiratorially.
"Yes, but first you have to catch the fish, and then fry it," he said casually. Virgil looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
"I assume you have a net big enough?"
"Between you and me, I'm sure we'll think of something," grinned Scott. He led Virgil outside, and they began to plot.
TB
The usual group stood by the windows, happily munching on the food from the buffet.
"They're definitely treating us here," said Radcliffe, helping himself to another sandwich.
"I'll s-s-say," agreed Brains, rubbing his stomach. "I'm stuffed."
"Join the club," said Catrìona. "I don't think I've eaten this much since before I was a student. Except perhaps at my twenty-first. I don't really remember it that well..." She blushed. "Suffice to say alcohol ran freely. Normally I don't touch the stuff."
John laughed. "Sounds like my brother Scott's twenty-first. Thing is, the rest of us weren't old enough to buy anything, so we got bored pretty quickly."
"My twenty-first birthday, I must admit, involved a visit to the pub," chuckled Radcliffe. "It was so long ago, though, I'm not entirely sure what we got up to. I seem to remember that a traffic cone was found on the head of the statue in the main square..."
"M-m-my twenty-first was, ah, a m-much more subdued, um, affair," said Brains a little sadly. John nodded. He remembered. It had been around the time Gordon had had his hydrofoil crash. Everyone had been in such a state of panic, Brains' birthday had slipped by unnoticed.
"We had a party for you later on, though," John pointed out.
"Yeah, b-but no, ah, b-booze," chuckled Brains.
"I thought you didn't like the stuff anyway?"
"No, b-but your, ah, b-b-brothers weren't t-too impressed."
They all laughed, only to be interrupted by a fifth voice.
"Good food today," said Meyer, stepping into the circle. Catrìona shrank away slightly behind Brains.
"I don't believe we've been introduced," he said to John, offering his hand. "Harold Meyer, of Meyer electronics."
"John Tracy," replied John, shaking the hand. Unsure what to say, he turned back to the others. They seemed to be looking anywhere but at the two of them. Meyer had gone back to stuffing his face.
"Have you tried these?" he asked, holding up what looked like a small chocolate ball. "Fancy truffle things, very nice."
John reached to the platter on the table, then hesitated.
"They don't have nuts in them, do they?"
Meyer hesitated. "No, don't think so." John shrugged and took a bite.
"So, enjoying the conferences? I saw you this morning, and the morning before as well."
"Yes, they're very interesting," replied John, frowning at the truffle. "I was particularly interested in..." Suddenly, he dropped the truffle onto his plate and set them carefully onto the table. "Excuse me a moment." He stumbled over to Brains and tapped him on the shoulder. Brains opened his eyes wide as John clutched at his throat, swaying slightly.
"John?"
John collapsed onto his knees.
"John!"
i'm going back to school on wednesday, so i can't guarantee frequent updates after that. especially since the sixth year hallowe'en party's coming up. i'm going as esmerelda. and i've got the highland region youth orchestra over almost the entire weekend this coming weekend (yes. i have to go away on hallowe'en). so, watch this space, and see what happens...