Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 106.1: 1968, Georgina

Chapter 106.1: 1968, Georgina

A squeezing pain in my whole body, forcing my eyes open to capacity and making me roll to the side in a knowing. My hands tightened around the softness of an edge, and I retched as much as I could over the side of the bed. My head hung over the mattress, my chin hooking on the edge like my hands as I stared down into darkness. My body was heaving still, my lungs wild, as my eyes stared at nothing yet everything.

Something made the wood creak, a heaviness in the dark. My eyes glued to where I'd just heaved, a sweetness drifting up to my nose which made my throat close in defiance. Footsteps were rushing over carpet, making a shushing noise.

"No, wait," I breathed, swinging my hand around the bed in futility. "Its wet. Don't-"

"Are you okay, my darling? Did you vomit? Are you in pain?"

A kind voice, young and tired.

Brightness blinded me, and my eyes shut automatically. I shook my head calmly, keeping my eyes closed so I wouldn't have to see the sick on the floor. The remnants of a small party, chocolate cake and too much champagne.

I sighed and rolled back onto the bed, squeezing my eyes at the pain I could now feel. The sheets were brushed up my body by unseen hands, gentle hands.

I sighed again, not answering his question. It was too obvious.

The truth was I had drank too much. And for some reason, Paulie and Frankie had been letting me. Pouring me glass after glass of white champagne, bubble after bubble, drink after drink. Why? I didn't know, and I didn't want to venture a guess. Now I was dizzy and my stomach didn't enjoy it, and Frankie was in the room with me doing something noisy.

He seemed to be slamming something over and over and I wanted him to stop. But who was I to make him stop whatever he seemed so intent on doing?

"Don't mind me," he said, clear strain in his voice, "sleep. We'll clean that up later."

My face scrunched at the thought of leaving my sick on the floor. That white carpet. "What are you doing?"

"Packing your bags on a dolly."

"Oh, what?" I was awake now. I had to be. It was too strange.

"The car's outside. The driver wants your bags on a dolly."

It didn't make sense.

"But I have to pee." It was all I could manage to say.

"That will be okay. Paulie can take you. One moment."

My eyes opened, and I was met with the vision of him making his way across the room dressed in a tan Italian suit with a red tie. He had on a hat, something I found odd. Frankie was not one to wear hats. I brought the sheet to my chin, tasting the sickly sweet in my mouth from the vomit. I needed it to be cleaned away from my mouth somehow, but how?

He leaned his head out of the door frame, gently calling Paulie's name as if rousing him. Perhaps he was. Familiar uneasiness spread about me at this. I did not want him to wake him up if it wasn't-

"Yup, yup, I'm up, I'm up," Paulie's gravely voice came from the living room now. So he'd been sleeping. Getting up for what? For me?

"Can you take her to the bathroom? I'm almost finished here. I have to get the dolly downstairs."

"Yup. Let me help you with that, too. We'll be done in a minute."

"I can manage it," Frankie's voice called.