Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies

Chapter 2

Louis was beyond furious. He was so mad he was actually trembling. For a long ten minutes he sat in his office trying to calm himself down enough to think straight. It wasn't working very well because he kept leaping to his feet with every crescendo of throbbing rage. He wanted to scream or cry or violently kick something – anything to dissolve the pressure of the anger. It was practically vibrating his nerves from his feet to his hands – hot, pulsing and ugly. The crumbed card in front of him sent a spike of resentment down his spine every time he caught sight of it. He wanted to shred it... no, he wanted to burn it... hell, if he thought he could get away with it he would take it right back to the sender and piss on it in front of her. How dare she do this to him... how dare she act so... so... calm and... and proper - like nothing of note had ever happened between them. Like... what she had done was water under the bridge.

"Louis?"

His head snapped up and he saw Perrie hovering in the doorway, "Oh... hey," he managed to grit out.

"Hi," she stepped forth uncertainly, a few papers clutched in her hand. "Sorry, I thought you might want these re-filed... are... are you okay?"

He snorted, flopped back in his chair and pointed at the card on the desk. "Not really. Look at what delight has just come in the post for me."

Uncertainly, she walked forward and peered down at the card. "Oh shit," she swore as she read the blurb. Her eyes snapped up to his, concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm bloody livid, is what I am," he ground out. "Of all the fucking nerve..." He closed his eyes and willed himself to breath slower. This was too much out the blue; he needed some fresh air... before he inadvertently told Perrie something she really ought not to know. "Look, I'm going to take off for my lunch early, okay? I need to speak to someone. If anyone calls, tell them I will be back in the office by half two at the latest."

"Okay," she replied faintly, clearly unsure whether she ought to do something else to help him or just let him go. Before she could decide, he grabbed his suit jacket and essentials from his drawer and stalked out of the room.

As soon as he was in the lift he pulled out his phone and texted Cole, the only one, bar his Grandfather, who knew the truth about what had really happened with El. Need to talk. You up for lunch? he typed out furiously. The reply came before he had even reached the ground floor. Sure. What time? Now? Louis prayed his friend was available. Sure enough, Ok! I'm @ Ians. Give me 15 & I'll meet u @ The Wallace?  Ian, a close friend of Cole's in their regiment, lived in a flat near Montagu Square. Louis knew this, having been there a few times for parties. The Wallace Museum restaurant was but a ten minute walk away from there and was one of their regular eating spots if Amelia or Zayn had dragged them both shopping on Oxford Street.

Letting out a long breath of relief, Louis replied, Thanks mate. See you there in a few.

It wasn't even a ten minute tube ride between London Bridge and Bond Street. Somewhere between stations the fury had dissipated - leaving him feeling drained and insulted. He huddled himself under his thick coat as he rode the escalator up onto street level; it was the kind of steamy cold today that made you feel feverish and restless. Pulling his coat tighter, Louis exited the station onto Oxford Street, crossed over the road, and nearly got bowled over by a young mum yapping loudly on her phone as she pushed her double buggy aggressively out of H&M. Ever the gentlemen, he muttered an apology even though it wasn't his fault and hurried on, taking a left down Duke Street. His walk took him past the bustling institution that was Selfridges and the series of well-known pubs frequented by the Oxford Street five o'clock finishers.

Manchester Square, at the end, was virtually deserted when he arrived; its tiny patch of park barren and bleak from the winter chill. In summer it was a haven for sunbathers and office workers looking for a bit of sun as they enjoyed their lunch. Today that image was all but a fantasy.