Rose: Briar's Thorn (20 page)

Claude looked over at me with a smile and I pulled my earbuds out, Duke Ellington drifted out of them into the truck cab.  He said, “Ca y est Eliza, Covent Garden.”

I smiled at the eager boy and laid a hand on his cheek and crinkled my nose.  “English, Claude.  English.”

He nodded.  “Sorry.  This eez it Eliza, Covent Garden.  Are you sure you do not wish me to wait and drive you to a hotel after you finish your business?”

I winked at the guy.  He really was cute, and great in bed, but I had no clue where I would be staying tonight.  I shook my head as I opened the door.  “No, but thank you.  You have been so sweet to give me a ride all this way.”

He hurried out and opened the back doors of the small delivery truck and lifted Audrey down for me as I slung my backpack over my right shoulder.  “Nonsense, I had this delivery to London today anyway.”

I hoisted Audrey over my left shoulder by her strap with practiced ease. Then leaned in and gave Claude something to remember me by.  He was a pretty good kisser.  “Bye Claude, I'm glad I met you.”

The kid looked to be floating as he made his way back to the driver's door.  I mentally rolled my eyes at myself.  Get over yourself Liza, nineteen is not a kid, you're only three years older than him.  He waved awkwardly.  “Goodbye Eliza, I hope you visit Paris again.  Look me up, oui?”

I waved back and smiled, he was too cute.  “Yes, I will.”  Then I watched him drive off and I turned to the Garden.  I heard this was one of the hot spots for musical talent.  There were supposed to be some public boards you could post your bills or cards.  I needed to drum up some quick cash for a day or two before I could hit the Jazz clubs.  Maybe there was a want ad for a bassist on one of the boards.

It was going to be tough hauling around an instrument that was as big as I was, and work the crowd at the same time.  I glanced around and saw a church close to an open air market.  “Perfect.”  I headed to the church, taking in the variety of people around.  This was a mid to upscale crowd, about what I would expect for the arts district.  There was an a capella quartet singing modern pop on the corner, damn they were supermurgitroid.

I entered the empty church and crossed myself as I looked down the nave to the altar.  I walked to the front pews of the nave and unshouldered Audrey and leaned her against a pew.  I slid in and then clasped my hands and prayed.  I asked forgiveness for my way of life, just in case, then opened my eyes as a pastor walked out of the Deacon's Door toward the altar.  He saw me and paused.  I saw a slight smile on his face.  I understood, not many people visit the church in the middle of the day on a Friday.

I stood and prompted, “Father?”

He turned toward me. “Yes?”  He was lean and tall, a younger man for a preacher, maybe early to mid-thirties, with a healthy head of thick straw colored hair.

I said, “I don't mean to be a bother, but I'm passing through and wanted to look around the Garden.  My bass is really awkward to carry.  I was wondering if I might impose upon you and leave it in the church while I explore?”

He looked from me to the bass then smiled.  “Of course.  Symphony?”

I shook my head and said almost in apology, “Jazz.”

His eyebrows rose and his smile widened.  “The Lord has a soft spot for Louie.”

I snorted.  I thought only pastors in the United States made that joke.  I nodded in acquiescence, “I've heard that said a time or two, Father...”  I let it hang.

He supplied, “Arlington, Michael Arlington.  Father Mike is fine.”  I caught a bit of Scottish tinging his British accent.

I smiled and shook his hand. “Eliza Montrose, most people call me Liza.”

He nodded and said, “Well then Liza, you can put your string bass in my office this way.”  I appreciated that he didn't try to carry Audrey, most men do.  They don't know it's bad juju to carry someone else's instrument without their permission.  Hey, don't look at me like that, superstitions are there for a reason!

I eyed Father Mike, he seemed to know a lot about the craft.  I shouldered Audrey and followed him through a side door in the nave and into a hallway that spanned the length of the church.  Then into a little office.  I set Audrey in a corner with my backpack and thanked the Father as he walked me to the door of the church.  I turned and crossed myself before stepping out as he held the door.

He said, “Come back after you've done your exploring, the doors are always open.”

I nodded and grinned.  “Will do Father, and thank you.”  He nodded and I tried not to drop my smile for him as I felt guilty I was going off to sin.

That quartet was still there, singing one of those Tabby Cat songs, Drifting.  They dropped a mean beat and my body quickly caught it.  There's nothing to be done for it when you just have to move with the music.  I danced and laughed my way through the people on the walkway, observing the crowd around the singers.

I had three priorities here besides dancing with the beat of their swing, and I hummed as my hips moved.  Priority one, funds were getting a little thin.  I needed a little scratch until I could land a gig.  Two, I needed a place to stay tonight.  I could probably find a youth hostel tomorrow.  And third, I needed to get the word out that I was bassist for hire, we were few and far between.

I got closer in the crowd and smiled at a twenty-something man I had singled out because of his high-end clothes.  I grinned at him as I got next to him. He immediately appraised me I swayed to the music and bumped hips with him, then grabbed one of his hands as I danced off letting my fingers drift along his hand.  Then I lost myself in the crowd, letting the music take me.  Without looking, I pulled the cash out of the man's billfold that had somehow wound up in my hand.  The cash went in one pocket, the wallet went in the trashcan I did a fun little spin past.

Next was a woman on the opposite side.  Her outfit just screamed money as did all the gaudy jewelry she wore as she listened to the singers.  I caught the name on their permit as I spun and swayed my way past, the Robinson's, a family, nice.

I grabbed the hand of a little girl standing with her mother, near the well to do woman and spun the girl around in a fun pirouette to her giggling delight and her mother's smiles at us.  I bowed to the grinning girl, accidentally bumping into the woman behind me.  I danced away to the trash can again, depositing her wallet which I had lifted from her oversize purse.  More cash in my pocket.

Now I needed a place to stay.  I was sort of ashamed of how I used my looks, thank God I took after my mother in that department and not my father.  But the way I saw it, beauty is fleeting, so I might as well use it while I got it.  Just a couple more years and I wouldn't be able to pull this off anymore.

I saw a hot prospect and bit my lower lip as I watched them swaying in a subdued manner, wanting to join in more but not quite having the courage to let loose.  I stepped up to the girl, she was friggin' cute with her chestnut hair spilling down to cover one of her chocolate brown eyes, which were locked on the only female singer in the group.

I stepped up to her and stood in front of her and swayed and winked at her then grabbed one of her hands. I led her in a circle to the beat with my other hand lightly on her shapely hip.  Yum.  Then I knelt down and feigned picking up her cell phone that I was palming. I handed it to her with a card.

She smiled at her phone bashfully and I moved her hair to one side with a brushing motion from my hand and leaned in as I swayed and said into her ear.  “You dropped your phone.  The card is my cell number, I'm in town for a couple days... call me.”  Then I added.  “Liza.”  And pulled back giving her an expectant look.

She blushed and nodded and said, “Gina.”

I smiled and repeated, “Gina.”  Then I looked beyond her and grinned, “Nice ass.”  She dropped her eyes and I danced off saying, “I hope to hear from you soon, Gina.  Bye.”

She just gave a tiny wave and then looked down at the card.  Damn she was a cutie, the bashful ones always are.  When I was lost in the crowd, I saw a mid twenty something guy with a chiseled jaw to die for.  I stepped up behind him and placed both hands on his muscular butt and swayed as he looked back as I put my chin on his shoulder, my auburn locks draping over it.

I said, “They're good.”  His eyes went wide, I had him hooked as he turned around to face me.

He smiled and said, “They are.”  We shared a smile and I gave him a little dance move as he looked me up and down, appraising my form.

I handed him his wallet with one of my cards sticking out of it as I rested a hand on his lower chest, feeling the six pack under the band tee he was wearing.  That got my motor revved, can I pick them or what?  I said, “You dropped your wallet.”  Then I gave him a blatant once-over with my eyes in an approving manner, then added, “I took the liberty of putting my number in it, in case you need some company tonight.  I'm only in town for a couple days.”

He glanced at his wallet and the card hanging out, I could see him restraining himself from checking for his cash, which I left in it, thank you very much.  Hey, people with the potential to put me up for the night are not marks.  This guy had all the right stuff.  I'm not picky, if Gina falls through, there is always... I said as I offered my hand, “Liza.”  He replied, “Kelly.” ...there is always Kelly as a backup.  They are both drool-worthy.

I backed away swaying to the music that was coming to an end as they sang the tag.  I made a phone with my hand and mouthed, “Call me,”  to the grinning man as I disappeared into the crowd up to the Robinsons.  I pulled out the wad of cash, holy crap, a few hundred pounds at least.  I dropped a fifty in the little box that was holding up their busking permit.

Then leaned in as soon as they finished and asked the group,  “You really broke it down there!  You know where a girl can post her cards around here?”  I held a card out.

The girl in the group took my card and nodded and said, “Thanks.  There are some public boards right there at Apple Market.”  She glanced at my card that read 'Eliza Montrose, Have Bass, Will travel.  Jazz – Swing – Fusion – Orchestral ' with my number.

She smiled and asked, “Fusion?”

I nodded. “My own sort of pop, rock, jazz fusion.  Adding flavor to modern music.”

She nodded then looked around.  “We only have this spot for another ten minutes so we best be back at it, but you might try this...”

She knelt and pulled a playbill out from a folder.   She leaned in, “The underground scene is voracious for new offerings.”  I nodded my thanks as she pulled back and they started a classic, Heroes, by Satin Thunder.  I bowed to her and mouthed “Thank you.”  She winked and I headed to the Apple Market she indicated.

I glanced at the playbill for some band.  The date was four years ago tomorrow night.  What was I going to do with this?  It was the London Underground so maybe it meant something.  I'd have to ask around.  There were boards for everything at the Market.  I found the music listings and pulled a couple tabs for people looking for electric bassists.  I could do that in a pinch if I couldn't find any string work, as long as they had a bass for me to play.

I pinned up one of my cards in each corner of the board then spun around to find more music.  I hear that so many famous people have come from, and still sometimes play on the streets of the Garden.  My appetite for music was various.  I spent the rest of the afternoon listening and dancing in the streets.

I must say that the rumors were right.  Except for one guy doing a rap set, I was impressed by all the performers I saw; I don't care for rap.  And I swear by the Village Vanguard that I watched Rayleigh sing a set on a corner there.  A bonafide superstar and her voice was pure honey.  Her platters don't do her justice.

I also saw something in the crowd around her that signaled I needed to make a hasty retreat.  Some numb-nuts pickpocket was working the crowd.  An amateur.  Everyone knows you only hit a couple marks at any venue.  When you hit too many at once your chances of getting caught, someone noticing, or the cops interceding, increases by an order of magnitude.  You might as well send up a flare.

I zeroed in on the guy, at least he was smart enough to ditch the plastic and the wallets.  But stupid enough to go after jewelry and watches too.  He didn't care who he hit, rich, poor, whoever.

I balked, only people who can afford it are marks, and cash only.  I bumped into him, then held his arm in a hand and looked down between us.  The greasy guy followed my gaze to see me holding the large wad of bills I lifted from him.

He gave me a half afraid, half angry look as I hissed, “Get lost.”  I let go of his arm and gave him a warning look when he watched me pocket his ill-gotten booty.  He turned and scurried off like a cockroach.  If it's one thing I can't stand is a lowlife without morals.  I'm a different kind of lowlife altogether.  I do have my own moral code, and what he was doing, wasn't right.

I passed by Rayleigh quickly and dropped about a third of the cash in her box and made a beeline for the church.  The damn idiot had burned this place, it won't be safe to work the crowd maybe for weeks now with how many people he was hitting.

I arrived at the church and Father Mike was there.  I retrieved my stuff and he walked me to the door.  I stuffed the rest of the cockroach's wad of cash into the church collection box.  Then turned to cross myself as I left.

As Father Mike held the door open for me, he asked, “You're a believer?”

I shrugged an apology to the man.  “I'm a hope-er.  So I hedge my bets, just in case.  I'll pray with the best of them, but you'll not catch me quoting scripture.  Call me superstitious.  Though I do believe in music.”

He was surprisingly accepting of that and said, “You make the effort, that is more than some.  And it is good to believe in something, music is always a good choice.”  Then he added, “The doors are always open for you here Liza.”

I nodded and smiled at the man.  I really liked this padre.  I started to turn but paused and asked, “What are some good clubs where a wandering doghouse bassist can catch some heat for some bread?”