"THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD"
PART II
Missing in Action (1)
Canterbury Student Village Parham Road, Canterbury, CT1 1YN
Issy Underwood lit the bong, sucked, inhaled deep, held it, and then exhaled towards the ceiling, before passing it over to her roommate, Jemma. Turning towards the vibrating cell phone on the pillow next to her, she saw the screen requesting a FaceTime with “Mum.”
“Oh shit, it’s my mum. Do I look high?” Jemma, tight lips and a puffed chest from holding in her recent hit, could only shake her head, no. Issy tapped her phone, and Steph Underwood’s face filled its screen. She looked neither happy nor angry. Very even. Business-like almost.
“Hi, Mum.”
“Hi, Issy.”
Issy. When it wasn’t honey, or sweetheart, but her name, even her partial name, it was the alert that all was not well. Issy looked into the screen hoping her eyes were not red from the weed, her voice not slurry from the vodka she and Jemm had been drinking. Hard to project credibility to your mother when you were stoned and drunk at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.
“What’s up?” Issy asked. “Why you calling so early?”
“I just received a call.”
“Oh yeah? Who from?”
“Why are you in your dorm room?” Steph said instead. “Don’t you have class?”
Shit, why the fuck did she answer this call, Issy thought.
Whether it was the booze or weed or just youthful defiance, Issy decided that lying was the best course of action. “Done for the day. Jemm and I were just about to study.”
“Studying during the day, huh? Wow. What were you about to study?”
Hesitate and you’re done for Issy Underwood.
“Jemm?” She looked towards her roommate, giving her mother her profile. “What are we going to study first?”
Jemma looked back with wide eyes, then spurted out “Theology.”
Issy closed her eyes and sighed. Jemma’s major required a prerequisite class in theology. Issy’s did not. Steph knew this.
“Theology, huh?” Steph said. Issy gave her room-mate a look, Jemm winced and mouthed
“I’m sorry.” Issy brought her full face back to the phone for her mother. Defeated and without even trying, she simply said, “Yep … theology. I signed up for it yesterday. They make special midterm registration exceptions for people who doubt the existence of God after all the shit they’ve been through.”
“Don’t you dare,” Steph said. “Don’t you dare go pulling that card every time you’re backed into a corner.”
“Well, why don’t you try telling me what corner I’m backed into first, Mum? Fuck, you can never just come out with it, can you?”
“Oh, you criticising my methods gives you the justification to curse now, does it Isabelle?”
Wow, her actual full name.
“What’s on your fucking mind, Mum? What the fuck did I do this time?”
“It’s what you didn’t do, Issy. You don’t think I know you haven’t been going to class?”
“Don’t tell me mum, you’ve had a call.”
“I had to act as your guarantor Isabelle, to get you into Uni at all, after you flunked your A Levels. Of course I’ve had a call.
Issy rolled her eyes, stood, mum coming along for the ride on the phone, grabbed her cigarettes from the dresser, lit one, and exhaled demonstratively.
“Still smoking too, I see,” Steph said with clear disgust.
“Yeah, Mum. Just like dad used to do, except he did it in secret, but I thought why bother hiding it.”
Steph’s face changed. It was not anger or hurt, but an almost exhausted look of exasperation. She had got over Jason’s infidelity years ago, and had actually built a workable relationship with him and Ekaterina. But Kat’s death and now with him ‘running away’ to the States and leaving them all behind, she knew Issy had suffered more than most, more even than her younger brother, Jack.
“You’re unbelievable,” was all Steph said. Issy felt a twinge of remorse, and a moment of palpable silence followed. The young girl dropped her cigarette into a can of Coke and struggled to make eye contact with her mother.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ll go to class, okay?”
“Do what you want, Issy. If you don’t go, I’ll know soon enough.”
The twinge of remorse left. Now a twinge of annoyance.
“Oh, yeah? How? Because they’ll tell on me again?”
“No—because they’ll kick your ass out … and then you’ll be back home with your brother.”
“Please start going to class, sweetheart.”
Back to “sweetheart.” Always a good sign. Remorse tugged at her once again.
“I will, Mum. I love you.”
“I love you back.” Steph smiled.
As soon as the call was over, and as Jemm took another deep drag on the bong, Issy turned to the recent call list on her phone, swiped to Grace Miller’s number and pressed redial … again. But as with all seven previous attempts over the past three days, she wasn’t answering or returning the messages Issy had left for her father’s estranged wife, who was now one of the younger girl’s best friends.
“Fuck, Grace, where are you?
The Leopard V club, District XXII, Budapest
It was Friday night, and The Leopard V was packed, just like it always was.
Mihály scanned the crowd. “Hey, Rabán,” Mihály said, nodding to his fellow bouncer. Most of the club’s clientele were respectful, and that made the job easier. There were still the occasional sex pests who tried to jerk themselves off or touch up the dancers without consent, and Mihály made quick work of them. Tonight, though, Mihály needed to be on his guard because Grzegorz Barta was in the house.
Although always retaining a professional demeanour, Mihály enjoyed watching the dancers and so when the next girl on stage was announced her looked up with interest.
“Miss Cassie Brown, all the way from the United Kingdom.”
“Wow,” he smiled at Rabán. “An English girl. She will get the crowd excited.”
Rabán nodded back, and they were not disappointed. The girl taking to the stage was way more than just pretty.
Dressed in red lace lingerie and pink stilettos, Cassie Brown swayed onto the stage to dance around her only prop … a padded white leather chair.
Her movements were graceful and sensual, and she performed for her audience making eye contact whenever she could. Mihály’s pulse spiked when she looked in his direction.
The girl slowly danced out of her bra, and fondled her own breasts, moaning to the cheers and whistles of the crowd. As she moved to the front of the stage, the club goers tucked money into her panties. Forint bills rained onto the stage, and then time slowed for Mihály as she fixed her eyes on him.
Cassie batted her long lashes at him and winked. With an open palm to her lips, she blew a kiss his way.
Rabán laughed and nudged Mihály. “Hey! I think she likes you!” he said. Mihály’s heart raced. Just watching her dance was enough, but the thought that she had noticed him, that she had singled him out during the performance … it was exhilarating.
Almost as soon as her dance had begun, it was over. Still wearing her red lace panties Cassie Brown aka Grace Miller, sashayed her ass off stage, pleased with her performance.
She had singled the bouncer guy out hoping he might get her access to the fat pig Barta. However, she need not have bothered with the middle man, because once she had left the stage, Mihály turned to the presence that had crept up on his right side.
“Have that girl brought to me upstairs. Now.”
With a nod, eager to do as he was asked, the bouncer replied, “Yes Mister Barta, I will see to it straight away.
To Be Continued …
PART II
Missing in Action (1)
Canterbury Student Village Parham Road, Canterbury, CT1 1YN
Issy Underwood lit the bong, sucked, inhaled deep, held it, and then exhaled towards the ceiling, before passing it over to her roommate, Jemma. Turning towards the vibrating cell phone on the pillow next to her, she saw the screen requesting a FaceTime with “Mum.”
“Oh shit, it’s my mum. Do I look high?” Jemma, tight lips and a puffed chest from holding in her recent hit, could only shake her head, no. Issy tapped her phone, and Steph Underwood’s face filled its screen. She looked neither happy nor angry. Very even. Business-like almost.
“Hi, Mum.”
“Hi, Issy.”
Issy. When it wasn’t honey, or sweetheart, but her name, even her partial name, it was the alert that all was not well. Issy looked into the screen hoping her eyes were not red from the weed, her voice not slurry from the vodka she and Jemm had been drinking. Hard to project credibility to your mother when you were stoned and drunk at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon.
“What’s up?” Issy asked. “Why you calling so early?”
“I just received a call.”
“Oh yeah? Who from?”
“Why are you in your dorm room?” Steph said instead. “Don’t you have class?”
Shit, why the fuck did she answer this call, Issy thought.
Whether it was the booze or weed or just youthful defiance, Issy decided that lying was the best course of action. “Done for the day. Jemm and I were just about to study.”
“Studying during the day, huh? Wow. What were you about to study?”
Hesitate and you’re done for Issy Underwood.
“Jemm?” She looked towards her roommate, giving her mother her profile. “What are we going to study first?”
Jemma looked back with wide eyes, then spurted out “Theology.”
Issy closed her eyes and sighed. Jemma’s major required a prerequisite class in theology. Issy’s did not. Steph knew this.
“Theology, huh?” Steph said. Issy gave her room-mate a look, Jemm winced and mouthed
“I’m sorry.” Issy brought her full face back to the phone for her mother. Defeated and without even trying, she simply said, “Yep … theology. I signed up for it yesterday. They make special midterm registration exceptions for people who doubt the existence of God after all the shit they’ve been through.”
“Don’t you dare,” Steph said. “Don’t you dare go pulling that card every time you’re backed into a corner.”
“Well, why don’t you try telling me what corner I’m backed into first, Mum? Fuck, you can never just come out with it, can you?”
“Oh, you criticising my methods gives you the justification to curse now, does it Isabelle?”
Wow, her actual full name.
“What’s on your fucking mind, Mum? What the fuck did I do this time?”
“It’s what you didn’t do, Issy. You don’t think I know you haven’t been going to class?”
“Don’t tell me mum, you’ve had a call.”
“I had to act as your guarantor Isabelle, to get you into Uni at all, after you flunked your A Levels. Of course I’ve had a call.
Issy rolled her eyes, stood, mum coming along for the ride on the phone, grabbed her cigarettes from the dresser, lit one, and exhaled demonstratively.
“Still smoking too, I see,” Steph said with clear disgust.
“Yeah, Mum. Just like dad used to do, except he did it in secret, but I thought why bother hiding it.”
Steph’s face changed. It was not anger or hurt, but an almost exhausted look of exasperation. She had got over Jason’s infidelity years ago, and had actually built a workable relationship with him and Ekaterina. But Kat’s death and now with him ‘running away’ to the States and leaving them all behind, she knew Issy had suffered more than most, more even than her younger brother, Jack.
“You’re unbelievable,” was all Steph said. Issy felt a twinge of remorse, and a moment of palpable silence followed. The young girl dropped her cigarette into a can of Coke and struggled to make eye contact with her mother.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ll go to class, okay?”
“Do what you want, Issy. If you don’t go, I’ll know soon enough.”
The twinge of remorse left. Now a twinge of annoyance.
“Oh, yeah? How? Because they’ll tell on me again?”
“No—because they’ll kick your ass out … and then you’ll be back home with your brother.”
“Please start going to class, sweetheart.”
Back to “sweetheart.” Always a good sign. Remorse tugged at her once again.
“I will, Mum. I love you.”
“I love you back.” Steph smiled.
As soon as the call was over, and as Jemm took another deep drag on the bong, Issy turned to the recent call list on her phone, swiped to Grace Miller’s number and pressed redial … again. But as with all seven previous attempts over the past three days, she wasn’t answering or returning the messages Issy had left for her father’s estranged wife, who was now one of the younger girl’s best friends.
“Fuck, Grace, where are you?
The Leopard V club, District XXII, Budapest
It was Friday night, and The Leopard V was packed, just like it always was.
Mihály scanned the crowd. “Hey, Rabán,” Mihály said, nodding to his fellow bouncer. Most of the club’s clientele were respectful, and that made the job easier. There were still the occasional sex pests who tried to jerk themselves off or touch up the dancers without consent, and Mihály made quick work of them. Tonight, though, Mihály needed to be on his guard because Grzegorz Barta was in the house.
Although always retaining a professional demeanour, Mihály enjoyed watching the dancers and so when the next girl on stage was announced her looked up with interest.
“Miss Cassie Brown, all the way from the United Kingdom.”
“Wow,” he smiled at Rabán. “An English girl. She will get the crowd excited.”
Rabán nodded back, and they were not disappointed. The girl taking to the stage was way more than just pretty.
Dressed in red lace lingerie and pink stilettos, Cassie Brown swayed onto the stage to dance around her only prop … a padded white leather chair.
Her movements were graceful and sensual, and she performed for her audience making eye contact whenever she could. Mihály’s pulse spiked when she looked in his direction.
The girl slowly danced out of her bra, and fondled her own breasts, moaning to the cheers and whistles of the crowd. As she moved to the front of the stage, the club goers tucked money into her panties. Forint bills rained onto the stage, and then time slowed for Mihály as she fixed her eyes on him.
Cassie batted her long lashes at him and winked. With an open palm to her lips, she blew a kiss his way.
Rabán laughed and nudged Mihály. “Hey! I think she likes you!” he said. Mihály’s heart raced. Just watching her dance was enough, but the thought that she had noticed him, that she had singled him out during the performance … it was exhilarating.
Almost as soon as her dance had begun, it was over. Still wearing her red lace panties Cassie Brown aka Grace Miller, sashayed her ass off stage, pleased with her performance.
She had singled the bouncer guy out hoping he might get her access to the fat pig Barta. However, she need not have bothered with the middle man, because once she had left the stage, Mihály turned to the presence that had crept up on his right side.
“Have that girl brought to me upstairs. Now.”
With a nod, eager to do as he was asked, the bouncer replied, “Yes Mister Barta, I will see to it straight away.
To Be Continued …
