11
Now that Isobel had a job, it meant she actually had to work, which she didn't really think about when she agreed to this whole thing. But now she had to rehearse and plan, and actually follow through. She had lost sleep after the realization that there would eventually be an opening night. She would have to sing and perform for people, and probably lots of them.
To settle her anxiety she tried to make a mental list of all the things she would have to do step by step. This was going to set back her reading, which was annoying, but sacrifices must be made to find one's purpose she supposed.
She sat mid morning at the bar drinking what Husk promised was just a non-alcoholic fruit cocktail and scrolling through her music. On a notepad she listed every song she thought may be good for a set list. She would have to ask Angel's opinion after he was done with Charlie's daily redemption classes.
She was so absorbed in what she was doing, she barely noticed that Alastor quite literally stepped out of the shadows next to her.
"Good morning, Isobel."
"And to you, Alastor."
"Nifty told me about your little dress up party with Angel. Quite exciting."
Isobel put her pencil down preparing herself for ridicule. "Great. And what did she have to say?"
"Just that you were looking for an appropriate costume for your new professional endeavor."
"Oh," Isobel was taken aback. What? No, joke at her expense? "Yeah, Angel was just trying to help me find something."
"And how did it go?" He leaned his elbow on the bar, chin resting on his fist as if he didn't know exactly how terrible it went. Isobel was still not completely convinced this wasn't a set up for him to make fun of her.
She sighed, "not great. Angel's style does not exactly match my own. And nothing fit. He's just so damn tall and skinny."
"So what will you do now?"
"I don't know. I guess think up a plan B, maybe I can get an advance in pay or something." Isobel picked up her pencil again preparing to go back to her list. Alastor stepped a bit closer.
"Perhaps I could be of service," he said.
"Oh really? You got a secret woman's wardrobe you've been hiding from everyone?"
"Ha, ha, hilarious. No, but I do have many connections and there are those who do owe me a favor or two."
Isobel turned her full attention to him.
"Are you offering to buy me a dress?" Was this the joke? She was confused.
"Yes, and whatever else you may need."
"Why? What's the catch?"
"No catch," he held his hand over his heart like some kind of Boy Scout pledge. "I have a few errands to run this afternoon and companionship always makes that kind of thing more enjoyable."
"So why me?" Isobel was unconvinced. "Why not ask someone else?"
"Everyone else seems to be otherwise occupied." He pointed his chin behind Isobel. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the others had joined together around a white board that read "daily positive affirmations." She turned back around quickly, she was not about to get drawn into that.
"So I go with you on your errands, and you're going to get me clothes?"
"I think it a fair exchange. And what an excellent opportunity for me to show you the wonders of our modest city." He spread his fingers wide as if giving the old razzle-dazzle.
Isobel regarded him with suspicion, but this time her curiosity and her desperate need for a different change of attire (she didn't care where they came from) got the best of her.
"Ok," she said, jumping down from her stool. "Let's go."
"Top drawer." Alastor said, escorting Isobel out the front door.
Angel, who was bored out of his fucking mind with Charlie's exercises that day, took note that they were leaving together.
They walked side by side through the city. Alastor with his cane in one hand and the other tucked behind his back, Isobel with both hands shoved in her pockets. They made several stops, chatting the entire time. Alastor made a very good tour guide and Isobel was surprised how affable he could be when he wanted.
Eventually they found their way to Cannibal Town. Though Isobel recognized the residents from the first day of her arrival, the town itself reminded her of something else entirely.
"Man, this place looks like it's got trouble," she said.
"Trouble?" Alastor inquired.
"Yeah, with a capital T, which rhymes with P that stands for pool." Alastor looked at her deeply confused. "Seriously," she continued. "It looks like Main Street USA here, except Mickey doesn't try to eat your face." It was clear by his expression that Alastor did not understand anything she had just said. "You know, the fact that you don't get any of my references makes me seem a lot less funny than I actually am."
"Perhaps, or more likely," he said pointedly, "you're simply not as amusing as you think you are."
"Whatever," Isobel scoffed and put on a ridiculous impression of a transatlantic accent. "Should I call the local five and dime and ask if they have Prince Albert in a can?" She mimed using an old crank phone. "Hello, operator, riverside 631."
Alastor actually chuckled and replied, "I got that one."
Isobel just shook her head. "You are so old."
They came to a small park that consisted of elaborate black, iron benches arranged around a three tiered fountain. Alastor sat Isobel down on one of the benches and instructed her to wait there.
"Just wait?" she asked. She was a little nervous to be left alone.
"I shall return in no time. I assure you, you are perfectly safe here."
"I don't know. You're not the only one who has shown interest in eating my eyes." She smiled up at him. "I'm joking, well, half joking. I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Very good," he said and resisted the urge to pat her on the top of the head. "Don't move."
She watched him walk away into the crowd until his red deer ears were out of sight. Luckily, Isobel was the kind to keep a book on her at all times for occasions just like this. She pulled out The Golden Compass and contented herself with the pleasant sound of the fountain and a story banned by the church for "satanic themes."
She read for a long while, longer than she realized, and was so involved with the book that she barely heard the "oh, hey, it's you" calling out to her. As she glanced up and in an instant her good mood dissipated.
She sighed heavily and mumbled, "this fucking guy."
What was his name again? Started with a V… Vox. She was quite pleased with herself for remembering. With great bravado and a grin that ran corner to corner, he walked toward her. Oh, fuck, he actually wanted to have a conversation, shit.
Isobel put her book down to give him her full attention, but fought the social training to smile sweetly.
"Hey, look at you. You're still alive. Thought you would have been picked off a while ago." He sounded shocked and yet very proud of her.
"Yeah, lucky, I guess." Isobel glanced around but no sign of Alastor. She couldn't believe that it had come to this, that the visage of a creepy smile and tattered suit would somehow be comforting.
"You know Valentino was very upset that you didn't stay."
"I'm sure he was very concerned," she said dryly. Since their first meeting, Isobel had heard many tales of Valentino, all from Angel, and none of them good.
"So what are you doing here?" Vox asked, shoving his fists in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.
"Oh, just waiting for a friend." Did she just refer to Alastor as her friend? Something about that didn't seem right. Oh, well, back to the douche bag at hand. "He should be back any minute."
"Ah, a friend. It's hard to find friends around here, especially ones you can trust."
"Uh huh," Isobel's eyes pleaded with Vox to just go away, but he didn't get the message and just kept on talking. She wondered what it was like to enjoy the sound of your own voice so much.
Across the courtyard Alastor came around the corner and immediately looked for Isobel. In his mind this was a bit of a test for her. He told her to not move, would she have followed his directions? He was quite pleased to see her sitting right where he left her, but his pleasure turned to severe annoyance as he recognized the figure standing over her.
Instinctively his hand balled into a tight fist, but he quickly reminded himself to control his temper. Always control. At that moment a cannibal gentleman carrying a large bundle of carnivorous flowers crossed his path. Alastor snatched one causing the gentleman to protest. In reply Alastor hissed loudly, sending the cannibal to flee.
Alastor then cracked his neck and straightened his tie before continuing on his way.
He was almost directly upon them before either noticed his presence. He thought briefly that he could stab Vox in the back with little effort. But then Isobel's eyes caught sight of him and mirrored back relief. Not something he was used to seeing. They met each other's gaze, and then Isobel gave an exaggerated eye roll that, for some reason, Vox did not seem to notice.
"There you are, deer. Thank you for waiting for me," Alastor said, each word dripping with charm.
Vox's shoulders instantly tensed at the sound of that hated radio chatter. He turned, completely appalled.
"You were waiting for him?"
Isobel opened her mouth to reply, but Alastor answered for her.
"Yes, we've been spending a lovely day together. Haven't we?" He bent low and offered the flower to Isobel. "For you."
She looked at it confused and dubious. "Oh, uh, thanks?" She took it delicately, unsure if it might bite.
"Terribly sorry we can't stay and chat, but we have other plans. Shall we?" Alastor swept his arm in front of Vox and Isobel stood to follow, just thankful for an excuse to escape. Vox watched after them rather dumbfounded.
"What the fuck was that?" Isobel asked, very amused.
"Oh, nothing of importance," Alastor tried his best to sound nonchalant.
"You obviously know each other. Another pissing contest, maybe?"
"Not at all. I just find Vox incredibly…" his demeanor grew dark, "vexing."
"So you want to vex him back, huh?" She held up the flower. "Is that what this was for?"
"Perhaps a bit crude, but yes."
Isobel scoffed. "Waste of time. He doesn't care about that kind of stuff. It's obvious you've never been a twelve year old girl. Do you think he's still watching?"
"Undoubtedly."
Isobel inserted the flower into the button hole on his lapel and threaded her arm through his. "Now if I pretend to whisper in your ear." Alastor tilted his head toward her as she cupped her mouth. "And then we laugh and look back at him, it would really mess with his head."
They both laughed loudly as she glanced back maliciously at Vox's stupid face. He did not look happy. Isobel's laugh was musical. A beautiful, enchanting tune. It was also completely and utterly fake. They continued arm in arm until they turned a corner out of Vox's view. Isobel immediately pulled her arm free and shoved her hands back into her pockets.
"It would seem, by the look on your face when talking to him, you share my opinion." Alastor said.
"Yeah, well, he's a creep." Isobel side eyed Alastor and quickly corrected herself. "Actually he's just a jackass. You're a creep."
"Ah, flattery will get you nowhere."
Isobel laughed. It was a cackle, harsh and acidic, and entirely genuine.
"Spending time with you is weird," she said.
Shortly after they arrived at a small boutique on the edge of Cannibal Town. Isobel was impressed with the fashions displayed in the window. Judging by the looks of the townspeople, she was afraid that she was going to have her pick of nothing but Edwardian styles, but this store seemed quite a bit more current.
Isobel reached for the door handle, but it was quickly blocked by the microphone head of Alastor's cane and a brief screech of speaker feedback.
"Before we go in," Alastor began. "There is something I need you to do for me."
"Fuck, I knew it," Isobel had been waiting all day for the other shoe to drop. "I knew you were going to do this. Get me out here, and then at the last minute try to convince me to make some kind of fucking deal."
"Such hysterics. Calm down. All I ask is that if anyone inquires, you simply confirm that you and I were together the entire afternoon."
Isobel's eyes narrowed. They both knew that was not the truth. "So I'm to be an alibi, huh?"
"You make it seem so nefarious."
"Hmm," Isobel looked around thinking, debating pros and cons. She looked Alastor up and down and then finally shrugged. "Fine. I can be your alibi. If anyone asks, I had my eyes on you all afternoon."
"Very good." This had gone better than he could have hoped. He put out his hand. "Shall he shake on it?"
Isobel clasped her hands behind her back. "No, but I will give you my word."
Alastor faltered, clearly disappointed. "Your word?"
"One thing you should know about me, I always keep my word," she said smugly.
Alastor curled in his long fingers one by one from his outstretched hand, "that is not how things are usually done."
"Come on, think of it as a deal made on good faith."
"I do not make good faith deals with sinners."
"I'm not a sinner."
He stared at her thinking it over. How would this actually benefit him? It would take an amount of trust he was not used to, but he supposed that if she did not hold her end of the bargain he could always just kill her. He would allow her to feel clever this one time.
"Good faith then," he said and opened the door for her.