Goodbye Ruby Tuesday (18 page)

The Ruby Rooms

Welcomes you to our first exhibition
–

Love, Age and Death: The Beginning.

Because that’s what it was, really. Beyond it all, here was their new beginning. And Evie intended to take hold of it with both hands.

***

‘So, we all sorted for this weekend?’ Ruby checked her lipstick in her compact mirror and turned to the girls.

‘I don’t know Rubes, it sounds a bit sketch,’ Evie shrugged, torn about the idea of lying to her mother. Sure, the odd white lie about getting into fights or extra homework instead of the art classes was for the greater good. But this would be an actual lie.

‘It’s typical parent swap hijinks, it’s practically on the Disney channel,’ Ruby rolled her eyes and snapped the mirror shut, turning to face them. ‘Each parent thinks we’re at the other’s for a sleepover, and meanwhile, we head into London to the gig, get the last train back, change back into the clothes we stashed at the station, and go have breakfast in town where everyone can see us. Simple.’

‘And getting down there? Terry and his goons in the van?’ Mollie wore her disbelief across her forehead.

‘It’s a free ride!’ Ruby shrugged, ‘What’s the big deal?’

‘Um, Terry starts his day with a can of Carling, he’s old and gross and hangs out with teenagers…’ Mollie ticked off her fingers.

‘And last time I saw him I punched him for grabbing my arse,’ Evie shrugged, ‘just sayin’.’

Chelsea sighed like the whole thing was too boring for words, ‘Look, the girls are right about Creepy Terry. Let’s just get the train down to London. We were gonna get the train back anyway.’

Ruby squared her shoulders and stood up, ‘Yeah, and who’s gonna get us the booze when we get there? Terry, creepy or not, likes me and promised me a bottle of Bacardi.’

‘Yeah, and what did you have to promise him in return?’

Ruby grinned and fluttered her eyelashes, ‘That’s the beauty of it. I never promised anything. Just suggested that we’d all be terribly grateful.’

A look passed between Chelsea, Evie and Mollie. One of unease and awkwardness. It was time to vote, three to one, and Ruby never took being the odd one out well. Especially when it always seemed like she was the one who made things happen, that before her they were these boring girls who had no idea how to dream at all.

‘Three against one, Rubes,’ Chelsea shrugged, ‘I can get us the booze to get down there. We don’t wanna drive with Terry. I’d like to arrive unmolested, cheers.’

They watched as Ruby raised an eyebrow – it was a toss-up between whether she’d lose her shit, or shrug and tell them she wasn’t bothered. Instead she just shrugged, ‘I guess I’ll meet you guys there then.’

‘You’re going to travel alone with that old perv?’ Mollie exclaimed, and Evie automatically held an arm out, as if she thought Mollie would launch herself at Ruby to protect her from the absent Terry. Or worse, agree to go with her out of loyalty.

Ruby shrugged, ‘Free drink, free lift. And I can handle myself. See you girls there.’

She walked out of the room like it was a catwalk, head held high. Of course, when Evie thought about it years later, she realised Ruby didn’t have the money for the train, or the booze, and she was good at getting what she wanted from people without letting them realise she needed anything at all.

***

Esme and Mollie arrived home around six p.m., after a full day of events. Mollie looked exhausted, holding a pink unicorn and bag of candy floss whilst Esme bounced around the room.

‘Go get changed, Ez, your leggings are all messy.’

Esme hopped off, and then they heard a squeal. ‘Mum! Evie!’

They exchanged a look and ran into the room, ducking under the little door into the room. Esme was hopping up and down, clapping her hands and pointing at the window. ‘Look!’

There was a window seat built beneath the window. It was made of whitewashed wood, with space beneath for books to be placed. On top there were two purple cushions with silver stars, which could be placed so Esme could lean against either wall, if she felt like it.

‘Thank you, thank you!’ Esme launched herself at Evie, who held her hands up like she was being attacked.

‘Hun, it wasn’t me!’

‘But we were out and you were here all day. Who else would come up here?’ Esme frowned, looking at the window seat suspiciously.

‘And who else knew about Esme’s obsession with having a window seat, it was just us,’ Mollie added, ‘I don’t think we told Chelsea?’

‘Maybe it’s my fairy godmother,’ Esme shrugged, perching on the seat daintily, swinging her legs back and forth.

Evie blinked, thinking back to her earlier conversation and the carpenter who was so happy to have a day to himself in an empty studio.

‘I think it might actually be a fairy godfather,’ Evie said quietly, shrugging and going to bed, unsure of whether she needed to shout at the man about boundaries, or kiss him for making a little girl very happy. One option brought sweeter dreams than the other.

Chapter Ten

Something had been ignited in The Ruby Rooms. Maybe it was Chelsea’s involvement, Esme’s enthusiasm… or Killian’s presence, always hovering around the edges, smiling at her. Evie wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, she’d take it. Jack and Petunia had moved into their new workspace, and the dust was being shaken up everywhere. It was like the studio was yawning and coming to life, after years of staying quiet to avoid scandal. But it was imbued with Ruby’s spirit now, and Ruby always ran headfirst into scandal, welcoming it with her arms open wide.

‘Jeez, busy in here this morning,’ Kilian commented when he emerged from his workshop to find Evie balancing on a ladder, replacing all the lightbulbs with energy saving ones. In the kitchen, Esme and Mollie were dancing around whilst they made lemon drizzle cake, the sound of Chuck Berry making Jack nod his head and wiggle a little as he went to refill his coffee cup for the third time that morning. Evie was pretty sure he was more concerned with how the lemon cake was coming along than his need to re-caffeinate.

‘All systems are go,’ Evie said, ‘the Grand Opening is in a few weeks, and there’s no time to waste!’ She pointed over her shoulder, still frowning at the stubborn lightbulb. Killian looked where she was pointing, to find a huge whiteboard leant up against the wall, covered in marker pen.
The Ruby Rooms To Do List
was along the top, and the columns of writing had started to run into each other, there were so many things on the list. It gave him a headache just looking at it.

‘You’re never going to get all that done!’

Evie pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, still focusing on twisting the stiff lightbulb. After an awkward squeak, it twisted out. ‘You don’t know me very well. Or Chelsea for that matter. So you can be forgiven for your cynicism.’ She put in the new bulb and wobbled down the ladder, Killian putting his foot on the bottom step to hold it steady. ‘Thanks.’

‘So everything’s under control?’ He held out a hand to help her down, and she smiled, hopping down and dusting herself off, ignoring any contact. The man still made her shiver, and she hadn’t said anything about Esme’s window seat. He just kept grinning at her like he expected her to say something. She refused to give in.

‘Mollie’s working on the catering, Chelsea’s sorting marketing. Jack and Petunia are inviting some artist friends to exhibit work. Evelyn’s giving invites to her contacts.’ She shrugged, looking back at the board, ‘This place needs a lick of paint, and then me and Ez are going to go flyering around the local area once the official ones are delivered from the printers. Sorted.’

‘I could help,’ Killian said suddenly, ‘if you needed furniture, I mean. Chairs? They’re not art, obviously, but they’re handmade and sort of… pretty? That, or I make a pretty mean homebrew if your guests don’t need their tastebuds.’

Evie looked at him, amused. ‘The
chairs
sound excellent.’

‘Too good for ale that makes your eyes water?’ he grinned, leaning against the ladder.

‘Me? No, count me in for eye-watering alcoholic deliciousness. Just we want our visitors to actually
remember
the evening. So they can tell people about it.’

‘Ah,’ he pointed at her and nodded, ‘that’s why you’re in charge.’

She shook her head, ‘Nah, I’m in charge ‘cause I’m bossy and make things happen through sheer force of will.’

‘So that’s a yes to the chairs?’

‘Yes, chairs are important,’ Evie nodded, ‘and if you happen to magically make a chair that I can curl up in and make art without falling asleep and shit going
everywhere
, let me know, because I woke up with buttons in my hair this morning.’

‘Don’t doubt that for a second,’ he smiled. ‘So about our date…’

‘The date that I did not actually agree to?’ She raised an eyebrow.

‘Yes, that one,’ he nodded.

Evie frowned, sticking a pencil back into her hair, ‘You know, it’s a very fine line between being forcefully charming and a complete butthead.’

‘Yes, but I absolutely trust that you will not miss an opportunity to call me a butthead,’ Killian grinned, flashing his teeth, ‘which means we must be left with terribly charming and eager, right?’

‘You said Saturday, right?’ Evie said, trying to stop herself from smiling.

‘Yeah, I thought I’d just remind you that
today
is Saturday.’ He chuckled, and Evie peered over at the calendar stuck above the whiteboard. Sure enough, it was a Saturday.

‘Wow, I’ve really got the scatty artist cliché down to a T, haven’t I?’ She shook her head, ‘Did we ever get to the part about why you want to go on a date?’

He shrugged, still grinning impishly, ‘I like food, I like conversation. Sometimes you’re not terribly difficult to be around.’

‘Oh gee, thanks,’ She rolled her eyes.

‘See, that, right there. The total disregard for me, very entertaining. Would be even more enjoyable over a decent steak.’

Evie pursed her lips, then grinned anyway. ‘Fine.’

‘Oh such enthusiasm, be still my heart.’

‘What time you picking me up?’ she shrugged, ticking a few things off the whiteboard list.

‘How’d you know we’re not meeting at the restaurant?’ he challenged, leaning in, his eyes twinkling.

‘Because you spend about ninety percent of your time here?’ she offered casually, ‘Plus I get the feeling that you, Killian, are an old-fashioned gent.’

He laughed, ‘What gives you that idea? And don’t say because I’m old.’

She pressed her lips together and considered him, ‘No, not old…. because you’re… experienced?’

‘Well, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?’ His voice softened to a teasing lilt, and she could smell the tang of his aftershave, something subtle but addictive.

‘Auntie Evie!’ Esme yelled from the kitchen, watching the two of them with her hands on her hips. ‘We’ve got lots of work to do! Stop farting with Killian and help us with the food!’ She turned back to the kitchen briefly, as Mollie corrected her, and then back to them, ‘Flirting! Stop
flirting!
’ Nodding firmly, she disappeared.

Evie sniggered, looking up at Killian to see his eyebrows raised, lip bitten to stop himself from laughing. He caught her eye and it came out as a snort, chuckling and holding his stomach.

‘And with that, mood ruined.’ She waved and gestured towards the kitchen.

‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he smiled and shrugged. ‘I am
terribly
old-fashioned.’

‘Knew it!’ she said as she walked off, her hips swaying a little more than they normally would, waving over her shoulder as she walked off. She seemed cool, casual. Chilled. Except in her head, Evie Rodriguez was making a list of all the things she had to do to get ready for this date, and she was pretty sure it rivalled the one on the whiteboard.

After a day of whitewashing the walls with Esme and Mollie, feeling her stomach twitch every time Killian walked past with a cup of tea, or a wink, or a comment about how great the place was looking, eventually, Evie was forced to get ready for her date. Killian had left an hour or so before to ‘go make myself gorgeous… or dye my grey hairs so you can’t make fun of me’, and she was stuck looking at a wardrobe full of things that were falling apart, covered in paint, or yoga pants.

‘You’re sure I can’t wear this?’ She looked imploringly at Mollie, who stood with Esme by her side, their arms crossed and heads tilted slightly to the right. It was eerie.

‘No,’ Esme said stubbornly, ‘you have to look pretty!’

‘Oh, well thanks, Ez.’ She rolled her eyes and turned to Mollie, ‘Could you please teach your daughter the main principles of feminism? Or failing that, basic etiquette?’

‘Honesty is the best policy,’ Esme said sternly, but walked closer and patted Evie on the arm, ‘but you’re always pretty. You should just be more pretty. So there can be a “wow” moment, like in the movies.’

‘What movies are you watching?’ Evie groaned.

‘Any movie!’ the little girl huffed, clearly tired of her godmother’s sassiness. ‘Look, I can fix this!’

She disappeared, and they heard her rustling about next door.

‘If she comes back with loo roll to make me a toilet paper dress… well, that may be our best option.’

Mollie nodded, looking at Evie’s current outfit, which was a paint-splattered black stretchy top with a small rip under the arm, and some saggy leggings. ‘Didn’t you used to be the stylish one?’

Evie raised an eyebrow, ‘No… I was the one who nicked the make-up, and learnt to pluck everyone’s eyebrows so that they looked surprised constantly.’

‘You mean there’s no fishnet crop tops hiding in that cupboard?’ Mollie teased, watching as Esme waddled back into the room, dresses on hangers held high above her head and still trailing.

‘Here!’ She threw them on the bed.

‘Hey missus! They’re mine! How did you reach them?’ Mollie was in ‘mum’ mode.

Esme shrugged nonchalantly, looking away, ‘
May
have tipped over the bedside table to stand on it?’