LA Modern Noir: Chapter 5b Allison
I wrote this post about a story where I had a first chapter written. I'm trying to push on and finish a first draft in 2024.
If you'd like to be tagged in for future chapters, let me know.
Thanks
Stuart
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Chapter 5b - 1,546 words
When they arrived back at the club the metal gates and the wooden doors they protected were open. Two men who’d been at the apartment to watch baseball stood attendance outside, though the chinos and polo shirts had been swapped for dark suits, shirts and ties, which gave them the appearance of either pallbearers or bouncers for a club with pretensions of genteelness.
Both men greeted Earl by name, but only smiled and nodded at Allison.
Beyond the doors steps led upwards. Down the middle of them was a handrail, splitting the stairway in two. Earl went up one side, Allison went up the other. At the top a short landing led to another set of doors, these ones set with glass in the top half allowing a view into the room.
The door opened and another of the men from the baseball day nodded at them and said, ‘Harry’s in a booth round to the right.’
‘Thanks, Mike,’ Earl said.
The room was wide open, the full length of the building. At the rear a long bar sat in front of a wall which looked to be covered by mirrors. The floor was old, polished, wood with a deep warmth of color like pale honey held up to sunlight. Their footsteps clicked on the wood. The walls at either end were panelled wood, which looked as if they had maybe started out the same as the floor, but hadn’t endured the years of use.
Turning the corner they found three booths lined against the stairwell wall. They all had people, men Allison noticed, in them. Harry sat in the middle booth, facing towards the bar. He waved at Earl and Allison.
‘Earl!’ Harry called, ‘How was Dimico’s? Did you have the Chicken Parm? Wait, no, you had a New York Strip, didn’t you? Medium well-done. That’s what you had in Cleveland and I reckon you have the same whatever place you go to eat.’ He looked at Allison, grinned, and said, ‘Am I right? I’m right aren’t I? Earl’s a creature of habit.’
Allison froze. Harry was right. Earl always ordered the same thing. But if Earl felt Harry was slighting him, it wouldn’t be Harry who bore the brunt of Earl’s ire.
‘Earl,’ Harry said, ‘come and sit. We got some numbers stuff to discuss. Need to make sure you’re worth that shiny Mustang.’ He pointed to a spot in the booth opposite him, and the man sitting there started sliding round to create space. ‘And Allison, Tina and the girls are sat round the corner with a glass of wine. You haven’t met Tina yet, have you. Go and enjoy a quiet drink and sit before the party really gets started.’
Earl was already moving forward. Allison was stuck in place, not expecting to be separated from Earl like this. Harry was already focused on Earl, but the men in the booth next to her were looking, she could feel their gazes, hear in her head their unspoken questions as to what she thought she was doing.
She stepped back and turned, leaving the men to discuss whatever it was they thought only men could discuss. As she passed the door Mike nodded at her and she smiled back wanly, eyeing the doors and feeling the desire to head through them, to escape back into the street and to walk until she found a bus route that would head in the right direction, to home.
There were times when such a flight was worth the risk. Not today. Not after what had happened in the car. Not without knowing how Earl’s evening would go.
‘Hi, are you Allison?’
The voice was bright and cheerful. Allison looked towards it. Like the other side of the stairwell there were three booths, but only one of these had people in it, the third one nearest the window. Four women looked expectantly towards her.
‘Hi, yes, I’m Allison.’
‘Well come on down and join us. I’m Denise, Danny’s wife. This is Tina, Angia, and Oonagh. We’ve got champagne, unless you want a soda.’
There were two bottles on the table. One open, the other still with its foil on and sat in an ice bucket. Allison didn’t recognise the label, not that she knew a lot about champagne. If they had drink in the house, it was beer. Earl liked beer, so they had beer. When Shonda came, she’d have wine, and probably a cocktail or two. But right now? ‘You know what, a glass of champagne sounds nice.’
‘Good, come and scooch in next to Angie, Denise said. ‘I promise the conversation isn’t all about tans, lunches, and pilates instructors, though you’ve got a good one by the look of it. And is that a Jenni Kayne dress?’ She turned to Tina and said, ‘I tell you, you’d look great in Jenni Kayne.’
Allison slid onto the bench next to Angie. A glass of champagne was slid towards her and she noticed it was a coupe and not a flute. She lifted it and saluted the table, then took a sip. The bubbles fizzed on her tongue with a chill, dry, intensity that she hadn’t experienced in years. She quickly took another sip, and realised all four women were looking at her. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Did I kill the conversation?’
‘No,’ Denise said. ‘We’ve all been on tenterhooks waiting for you to arrive. All the other wives and girlfriends either stay home with the children, or don’t want to come. We’re like a little club to ourselves. We sit, drink champagne or cocktails, and talk true crime podcasts and those cosy British murder mysteries set in quaint rural villages or dull beach towns. Please tell us you like either of them.’
‘Earl mainly watches sport,’ Allison said. ‘I’m not keen on true crime it…’ she paused, the words which were so close to coming out had been, to close to home, and she didn’t want to talk about that. ‘Well,’ she continued, ‘the news is bad enough. But sometimes I watch the Miss Marple or Poirot on (channel)’
‘Oh,’ Oonagh said, ‘I do love an Agatha Christie – the other three prefer newer stuff, but I like the old world feel of those shows. We should compare notes on favorites.’
‘That could be fun,’ Allison said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice, but wondering when Earl would allow it. You know, I saw a newish show. It’s modern and the woman is detective, and her aunts all live in the same village. Let me think.’ She tried to remember but had been concentrating on painting a miniature canvas while it burbled in the background. She did know it was during Earl’s last trip away, but the name of the show refused to resurface.
‘Was it Queens of Mystery?’ Tina asked.
‘I think it was!’
‘We watched that!’ Angie said and launched into what she’d loved about the show.
The others added their favorite parts and Allison was drawn in, adding the fragments she could remember. The conversation, and champagne, flowed easily. A third bottle arrived at the table shortly after Denise opened the second, letting the cork fly in the direction of the bar.
A few people started to arrive and the other women waved or nodded in acknowledgment. The newcomers went about opening doors on the far wall and from the storage space behind them, they wheeled out chairs and tables and began setting them up round the room.
‘I didn’t know there was doors there,’ Allison said.
‘Oh, this used to be a dance studio,’ Tina said. ‘It was when Harry took it over. That’s when we met. But he thought it’d do better business as a night club. It probably does. Business isn’t my thing. But it was a really nice dance studio. We used to get studios hiring us as a rehearsal space if they had dance scenes. I got to dance with (actor) once when he needed someone to practice with.’
‘And now you have your own private studio, right at home,’ Denise said. ‘And look how trim it keeps you.’
Tina sipped her champagne and her gaze focused a million miles away. ‘It’s not the same,’ she said.
The table fell silent and the sound of chairs and tables banging and sliding on the wooden floors filled the room. An air of uncertainty and embarrassment hung over the women and Allison felt it’s familiarity more than she’d felt the shared chat about television shows. She looked at Tina and recognised a kindred spirit, of sorts.
‘Ladies! How are you doing?’
‘Hey, honey,’ Denise said. ‘We’re fine. How are you men folk in the boring corner?’
Danny grinned at his wife. ‘We’re doing great. Harry just wanted to know everyone’s okay, and that you’re all ready for when folks start arriving.’
‘We’re all set. Though it’s been fun chatting British murder shows.’ Denise pointed at Allison. ‘We’ve got another member in the club.’
‘If any of us men disappear, I hope you use all your crime loving skills to find out what happened,’ Danny said.
‘Oh, honey, if you go missing the girls will be the ones helping me to get rid of your body!’ Denise said. ‘Now, when is everyone else arriving?’
Chapter Break
Link to collated chapters HERE
Link to the short story which is the seed for this is HERE
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words by stuartcturnbull pic by igorelick on Pixabay
Any LA based or knowledgable folks who want to pitch in on local things I get wrong, please do. I've never been and there's only so much I can learn on the internet.
Story seems like a murder case movie, a very nice fiction
Thanks for the tag.
What a pity, Allison would even have to bear the brunt of Earl's anger no matter who or what annoys him. Perhaps, Tina is experiencing the same situation in her relationship with Harry. Hmm, the silent pains some women go through...
#dreemerforlife.
Hmmmm
So it seems the ladies all have some sort of unsettling feelings and about their husbands line of work...
I've noticed this a few times in your writing...
The "(actor)", is it like you have no name for the actor yet or...
Anytime there's brackets it's a place to fill in a detail.
Happens most when I dont want to break a flow and get distracted by research.
If you see any such, feel free to make suggestions
Okay