Daddy's Gone 15.0 15. The day had been mad, not one second’s rest for anyone who had been designated a job for tonight’s party. Felix had left Ali early that morning with a promise of being back the day after and that this would be the last of his absences from their bed for a long time, a promise he already knew was broken. When he left the sun had been shining but this didn’t matter because he’d spent the largest portion of the day underground making sure that everything was in place, that everyone knew exactly what they were doing and that nobody was doing anything which they shouldn’t be. Inside The Bar not only looked totally different to how it would usually but the atmosphere was completely different. Even though it was empty, save for a few of the temporary members of staff milling around, the tables which were usually dotted around the expanse had been removed and safely stowed away in the back room. What was left were three enormous tables to accommodate the private parties which would be descending on the place tonight. Two black oblong tables occupied the two alcoves at the back of the bar overlooking the space which was now a dance floor. Each table was made of solid acrylic in the style of an old E.J Riley table with thick ornate legs, the surfaces were polished to mirror quality and both had Hebrew characters passing in an anti-clockwise rotation from their centre. One large round table in the middle of the room had been custom built, per Felix’s request. It came in two enormous parts which could be turned vertical for storage. When placed together they made a table about ten feet across making a central podium which would normally be used to house a resident dancer. Today however, at the last minute, Felix had called in some professional ice sculptors to construct a model of a woman in the shape of Venus de Milo. His insistence had been on the fact that one must be able to pour drinks into her mouth and have them come out of her nipples. Around lunchtime Caleb and Felix met with Liga Bella, the DJ pair who Felix assumed were lesbians, both wore large black sunglasses indoors which irritated Felix who purposefully kept it dark in The Bar at all times. Neither girl could have been over twenty-five, one had ghostly white blonde hair with pale skin which was pulled tight over slender bones. The other was slightly fuller in the face and had jet black hair but was equally pale with a bright red pout that looked as though it had been varnished. They referred to each other as Liga and Bella respectively, something else about them which grated on Felix. “So have we decided on what type of music you’re going to be playing?” Felix asked as much to Caleb as to Bella and Liga. “Can I smoke in here?” Asked one of the DJ’s pulling out a rose flavoured Vogue cigarette with an expectant snarl on her face. “Bella, we’re inside,” said her brunette counterpart, “it’s ill-ee-gal.” “Smoke away,” said Felix, “we’ll ignore the law for the next few hours.” Liga lit her cigarette and exhaled the pale smoke through an O shaped mouth. “Okay can we sort this out please? I have a million and one things to do today and I want this out of the way.” “Hey look you’re a poet,” said Liga, blankly. Felix looked over at Caleb as if to say who the fuck are these morons. Caleb decided to mediate, “Look we just need to agree on a general gist of what you’ll be playing for us tonight.” “Well you know how we do,” said Bella, as she reached over to pull a long thin cigarette from the box in front of Liga. “I’m not even sure that means anything,” said Felix beginning to lose his patience. “We like to centre on mixing modern classics, something pumping and vibrant which is totally chilled out,” said Liga in a voice that suggested this type of explanation took a huge toll on her personally. “We’ll change the music for the mood swings, you know?” Added Bella as though this clarified the nonsense which had already been spoken. “It’s like, you won’t notice it’s there because we jam so well with the feelings on display.” “If I’m not going to notice you then why am I paying you five G’s for the privilege of whatever it is you do? Which by the way is still totally unclear.” “If we weren’t there,” Liga began, leaning forward and taking another drag, “then you’d notice. It’s like covert ops music, you need us....trust me....you need us.” “Cal, am I just too old to understand this? Does it make sense to you?” “Well what do you want us to play?” asks Bella exasperated. “Music, just good music, you want to do it in your own style or whatever that’s fine, just make sure it’s good.” “Haven’t we just been telling you that that’s exactly what we’re going to do?” Felix turned to Caleb, “Cal, you sort this. If I stay here we’ll end up with two bodies and no DJ’s.” He got up from his seat and walked away without another word, the two girls following him in sync with their covered eyes. Felix took the stairs two at a time to reach street level, the enormous double doors were locked from the inside but he opened them so that he could smoke a cigarette outside away from the commotion downstairs. As soon as he stepped outside and lowered his hand from shielding his flame the inevitable happened, his phone began to ring. Felix didn’t need to look at the display to know who it was. Carlo was already two hours late to make his delivery and Felix knew that he’d done it on purpose just to complicate his #life. A quick walk around the corner brought him to the alleyway into which a large black Volkswagen van had backed into right up to the gate at the end. Felix had had the alleyway swept and mopped earlier, which no doubt would have looked odd to passersby but was an essential part of preparation. At the open rear of the van stood Carlo, wearing a metallic grey Canali three piece suit with a scarlet Hugo Boss tie, with him stood two burly men who were in the process of carefully moving enormous bottles of champagne towards the back of the van to be unloaded. Felix flicked his half smoked cigarette down an open sewer grate at the entrance of the alleyway and approached Carlo and hugged him tentatively. “What have we got here then?” Asked Felix. “Listen, I couldn’t get ten Cristal like you wanted, but I managed to get hold of some Armand de Brignac Gold, supposed to be pretty good I ‘ear.” He lead Felix over to one side by the gate, “There’s three bags in the van, I need you to take them down and put them in the office.” “Three bags?” “Yeah like in the nursery rhyme.” “What the fuck? How much is that?” “Hey when you said this would be the last time I had to organise a big shipment, see me through until I find a new place.” “Carlo, you don’t need any money, why the fuck are you even bothering?” “Because it’s fun, Felix. If I stopped now I’d get bored, and you know I ain’t so very pleasant when I’m bored.” “Whatever, alright I’m going to open the gate. Get Lurch one and Lurch two to carry all that shit down and leave it in the back room next to the special trolleys I’ve got for them down there. You and me get the bags first.” Felix lit another cigarette and then stepped up into the back of the van, careful not to knock one of the bottles over, dreading how much money it could cost him. At the point where the rear compartment of the van met the driver’s and passenger seats were three large black sports bags. Felix took the straps of two and, imagining that he would be able to, tried to sling each one onto a shoulder. He found that each bag weighed about double what he had anticipated and thus opted to lift one and drag the others along the floor with him to the back of the van. “You take one of these you old fuck,” he said to Carlo who was stood watching everything disinterestedly. “Alright, alright, no need to use profanities, Felix.” “Don’t start,” said Felix already coming short of breath. He staggered with his cargo to the gate and managed to keep his balance long enough to open it. Beyond the gate was a small courtyard which Felix had fitted with a red velvet carpet and cascading drapes in various shades of red and gold which gave the effect of a Middle Eastern harem. Interwoven between the layers of fabric were thousands of fairy lights, all the wires hidden carefully by the technicians who had orchestrated it. In the far corner was the beginning of the balustrade of the spiral staircase which would lead the guests into The Bar later so as to remain discreet and away from the main street. Felix shimmied the bag around onto his back so that he was able to fit down the narrow staircase, Carlo followed him into the courtyard but then stayed above ground, cackling down the phone. Down the stairs was a short corridor, lit by three dim, naked bulbs, the filaments quivering a burning orange in the near darkness. At the end of the corridor were three doors, one housed in each wall, directly in front was Felix’s office, to the left was the abandoned kitchen come store room and to the right was The Bar itself. Inside he could hear the movement, the clink of glasses being carefully stacked in orderly and attractive units, the fragmented music of the sound tests of Bella Liga and Caleb shouting at the bar staff to do their jobs and not stand and stare. In his office Felix found peace, he put the bag down by the wall to the left of the entrance, he knelt down beside it and carefully unzipped the top. He was unsurprised to find a number of large packages inside, all sealed in brown paper, presumably more secure than tape and plastic like the movies. Without counting Felix guessed that the bag probably housed at least thirty kilos, taking into account the other two upstairs and knowing that Carlo was only in the market for raw product he personally was probably looking at a couple of million, or more depending on where it was going to end up. Back in the courtyard Carlo was still talking loudly on the phone, the two heavy lifters had moved the bottles into the space beyond the gate so that they could lock the van and start taking things downstairs. Felix stood next to Carlo, eyeing him impatiently so that he might end his phone call, instead Carlo muted the phone on his shoulder and turned to Felix with a look of indignation. “Can I help?” He asked. “What time are your people going to be turning up?” Asked Felix. “I’ve got no idea mate, what time is it now?” Felix glanced at his watch, it was almost seven which meant that there wasn’t much time left before people would start to arrive. “It’s nearly seven, I need to get this stuff into the office now so I can lock it up, then I’ve got to run over to Mayfair and get changed and still be back in time to get everyone inside.” “I don’t know why you’re getting your panties in a twist, everything’s done. You run along to your suite over in Mayfair, I’ll see you in a couple of hours or whatever.” “Well what are you going to do while I’m gone?” “I’m a big boy, Felix, don’t you worry about me I’ve got lots of things to keep me busy.” “Well just stay out of everyone’s way,” said Felix expecting some kind of retaliation. “I’m standing here aren’t I? Am I in anyone’s way? I’m not sure I’m really comfortable with you telling me what to do but I’ll let you off this time.” “Whatever I’m going to run, I’ll see you tonight.” “Say hi to Belle,” Carlo began, “it is Belle isn’t it? That nice little brunette you’ve been running around with.” Felix turned on his heel and took two steps towards Carlo, his right fist was clenched tight but hidden by being kept down by his side. He reconsidered before throwing it, there was nothing to gain from it and his frustrations were probably as much with himself as with Carlo. Carlo just winked at him and returned to his phone call. Just get through tonight, thought Felix to himself. He went back down the stairs and through into The Bar, two men had unveiled a huge block of ice, easily six foot tall and three feet wide, standing on the central podium of the large round table. The towering block of ice was sweating slightly as the two men unveiled a collection of sculpting tools, various mallets and chisels, power drills and small but powerful looking chainsaws. Felix was glad that he wasn’t going to be here for this process because the noise alone would undoubtedly give him a migraine, then the added issue of clearing up the melting ice shards, water everywhere, even the thought of it was making his head spin. Bella Liga had occupied one of the booths to the side of the dance floor, each stood behind a turntable which were placed around a console filled with hundreds of buttons and switches, lights and sliders, in front of this was a rapidly filling ashtray. Both girls were bobbing their heads at different tempos, their ears covered by over-sized Sennheiser headphones, neither one had removed their sun glasses. Felix walked over towards them and stubbed out his cigarette in their ashtray, they looked at him as though he has soiled himself on their carpet. “I’m going to give you your cash now, later I might be feeling to generous and end up overpaying you,” he said, reaching into his inside pocket for the thick wad of folded bills he had been using to cover the expenses to far today. He pulled it out and counted out two thousand pounds, realising he wasn’t going to have enough he raised his finger to the girls before turning and walking to the ice sculptors instead. He folded the bills into the hand of the one who had yet to pick up a chainsaw, who took them appreciatively like a man not used to receiving cash for his time. Then he stepped back through the rear door and into his office where he found Carlo sat at the desk complaining to whoever he was on the phone to about the poor reception, while at the same time unwrapping one of his brown parcels. The other two bags had found their way down and were resting on top of one another in the corner. “Big shipment today then,” said Felix loud enough to interrupt the phone call. Carlo hung up the phone without saying goodbye. “You could say that, we’re all looking at making a nice profit anyway. I thought you were making a move.” “I am, I just needed to pick something up before I go,” he said whilst doing a double take on whatever it was that Carlo was doing on his desk. “You can’t do that in here,” he said firmly. “Stop trying to tell me what to do,” replied Carlo musically, as though talking to a child. “I’m serious this room stays locked until I get back.” “You’ve turned into a really miserable little cunt recently, you know that? You used to love this business, now you act like I’m a fucking plague on your #life.” “You are a fucking plague on my #life,” Felix paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I was going to wait until later to tell you this but you forced my hand, as usual. After tonight I’m through with this, with you and all your shit. The endless favours, phone calls, your stupid fucking jokes, everything. If you come into my bar again you’ll be out on your ass, you come near me or my family and it’s simple, I’ll kill you.” Carlo looked at him, looked him over, from head to toe and then simply said, “Okay.” He then re-wrapped his package on the desk, stood up and made his way to the door. “I’m going to mix this half and half with a tub of Maximuscle, it’s my new cutting agent, I’ll leave it out back with my boys until you get back.” He extended a hand to Felix for him to shake it but Felix just looked him coolly in the eyes, mistrustful of his reticence. Carlo shrugged and left the room. Once he had left Felix locked the door behind him and moved across to the central safe, he entered the nine digit code on the keypad which was followed by a short beep and the mechanical noise of the locking mechanism coming undone. From inside the safe Felix pulled two immaculately assembled blocks of cash, tied in a paper loop as though fresh from the mint. He slid one into his pocket and kept the other in his hand as he closed the safe door and locked it again. Back outside in The Bar Felix tossed one wad of bills over to Bella Liga, who caught it and sniffed the notes while fanning them under their noses. He then made his way to the bar where Caleb was instructing the staff on how to polish glasses, shake cocktails and keep their opinions to themselves. Felix tapped him on the shoulder, “Alright, son how’s everything looking?” “Yeah we’re all set I think, these guys have got the hang of the essentials so I wouldn’t worry. I spoke to the ice sculptor people and they reckon two hours and they’re done, then apparently they’re going to wrap it in sleeping bags until we want it unveiled or something.” “Sleeping bags?” Asked Felix concerned. “That’s pretty much what I thought,” said Caleb, “but apparently they can keep things cold as well as hot, who knew?” Just as he said this the searing cry of the chainsaw making its first pass on the block of ice began. “Right I’m going to go!” Shouted Felix above the din, “Have you got everything you need? Your tux is out in the back, so is all the champagne, if you need anything else you just call me and let me know okay? Oh and keep an eye on Carlo, I feel like he might try and do something to fuck with me tonight and I’m not in the mood.” “Done, done and done boss. I’ll see you in a bit.” “Sure, Cal,” replied Felix as he turned to the main entrance to leave. Outside the base of the sky was being tinged a peachy orange as the sun made its way below the layer of clouds. Felix hailed one of the passing black cabs and asked to be taken to the Mayfair Hotel, where he had booked a suite for the night for him and Belle. The suite was a luxurious duplex with a balcony that overlooked Green Park, the large living space was adorned with a conglomeration of Eastern artefacts and lavish modern furnishings like calf skin covered foot rests as well as well as a ten seat glass dining table. The bedroom interior reminded Felix of the inside of a chalet, a hardwood panel wall behind a large welcoming bed, draped in several layers of earth coloured silk bedding that contrasted powerfully with brilliant white bed sheets. Unlike the rest of the suite which was bathed in light the bedroom had no windows and was lit only by two cubic table lamps, it’s resemblance to Belle’s lounge was uncanny and Felix loved it. Every room smelt fresh and clean, nothing out of place, it was in essence virginal and Felix had grandiose aspirations to defile it. He removed his jacket and lay back in the centre of the bed, his tuxedo was hanging in the wardrobe where he’d left it that morning. He breathed all the air out of his lungs and rested, listening to his heart beat, seeing the quiver of his shirt as it did so. Belle stepped out of the en-suite bathroom, wrapped in a fresh white towel, her dark hair dripping and pasted to her slim neck and shoulders, beads of moisture on her skin were visible in the misty glow coming from behind her. She came and rested her head on Felix’s shoulder, he could feel the water spreading across his shirt but didn’t mind. He twisted his head to kiss her forehead but she craned upwards to meet him, kissing his lips softly for as long as she could. Holly was nervous, a growing tension had been growing in her gut most of the day, which stood in stark contradiction to Shiv and Kat’s mounting excitement. In her ears the echoes of her mother’s wasted words were ringing, now she questioned the purpose of all of these months of work, getting close to her father which as yet had got her nothing. She wondered if tonight, being within feet of him, no longer an employee, maybe she could tell him finally. And then what she wondered? Would anything be different, maybe he just didn’t care, had her Mum been right all along? The loss of her mother had truly sunk in over the last week, she was no longer in her #life, no longer a burden or a worry or an embarrassment. She had become a memory, and memories have little room for the negative. Holly chose only to recall the goodness of her mother, the love which she had always felt, however misguided its exhibition had become. But now facing the apparent prospect of maybe, finally, at last, gaining a father, she felt that #life as an orphan may not be so bad after all. The apartment had been transformed into nothing short of a beauty salon. One sofa was being used as a makeshift clothes horse, layer upon layer of chiffon shirt, dresses, skirts, harem trousers, blouses, corsets and just about every other item of the three girl’s wardrobes was on display. The floor in the centre of the living room was covered in a collection of heels of all colours, shapes, styles and brand. Shiv was milling around in her underwear, picking up a pair at random, thinking to herself of the combination of clothes which she could wear with them and then dumping them back on the floor unsatisfied. The television had been set to MTV all day, various music videos and asinine interviews had accompanied their quest for the perfect outfit. Kat had dyed her hair again only to make sure that it was all the most perfectly intense shade of black, since returning from her hair appointment she had spent most of the afternoon turning every song on the television into her own personal power ballad. Holly sat watching the proceedings from the only seat which wasn’t covered in potential clothes or shoes, she’d resigned herself to the fact that Kat was going to act as her stylist for the evening and therefore didn’t have a lot to do apart from wallow in her own misgivings about the night ahead. A text message from Caleb snapped her out of her trance, “Hey babe, everything’s looking amazing down here, come early 9.30ish? Can’t wait to see you X.” She smiled to herself, thinking how she might be the only person who could still see the true Caleb anymore. Shiv saw Holly smiling on her own and came over to investigate. “What’s that guilty smile you’ve got about?” She asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Holly sincerely. “Oh yes you do, I bet you just got a message from Caleb or something.” “I’m not saying a word,” she said closing an invisible zip across her mouth. “Kat!” Shiv shouted up the stairs, “Kat! Holly’s keeping secrets! About boys!” Kat poked her head around the open door to shout back, “Just tickle her, she can’t take it, she’ll crack and give up all the information we need.” Shiv didn’t wait long enough for Holly to be able to react, she ran over to the sofa and jumped on top of her, clawing at her ribs. Holly, already screaming, tried to wriggle herself free. Hearing the screams from below Kat came down the stairs and joined Shiv in tormenting Holly. Her screams drowned out the sound of the television and gasping for air she was just about able to tell them to stop. “Okay Okay!” She said after having fallen off the arm of the sofa, “I got a message from Cal!” “Saying what?” The girls asked in unison. “Just what time to come, blah blah blah.” “And...” said Kat. “And that he can’t wait to see me.” “Oooooooh,” said both the girls, mimicking schoolgirl scandal. “Oh shut up!” Said Holly while standing back up. “Can we maybe open one of these bottles now? And decide what we’re all going to wear please?” “Well we can definitely open one of the bottles,” said Kat, “but as for deciding what to wear....let’s not ask for the impossible yeah?” She got up and walked over...