In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

48. Rudy Can't Fail

I stared, eyes wide, jaw slack.  For a moment words betrayed me. Rudy was here?  Impossible!  How did he know I was headed to Solsbury Hill; how did he know I'd come all the way to Bath at all? Had he been following me this whole time? And more importantly, was he alone?

Immediately I started looking around for the Persian prince, But Rudy only shook his head. "It's just me. He's not here."

"Whew!" I tried to disregard the flare of deep disappointment in my chest.  "Then, where is he?"

"Damned if I know.  Wessex, maybe.  Could still be at home."

"What are you doing here?" I demanded. "Why aren't you driving for him today?"

"It's my day off," he replied. "I thought I'd take a little ride, have an excursion-"

"That's such crap, Rudy," I scoffed. "All of it!"

"No, not all. This really is my day off."

I rolled my eyes, hands on my hips. "How did you know I'd be coming here?"

"I'd tell you, but it's a long story and I haven't eaten yet. You haven't either, I'll wager."

"No," I said without thinking. Even if I had lied, it wouldn't have done much good; right then my stomach rumbled rather loudly.

Rudy nodded decisively.  "I can explain over a little breakfast.  I'll buy."

I sighed, already feeling myself weaken.  Food: the millenial's Achilles heel.  "I'd love to, Rudy, but I'm actually in something of a hurry, so I- uh..."

"Where are you off to? The Abbey?"

"How did you know?" I asked.

"A guess."

Also known as, Freddie made some snarky remark.  "Well, that is where I'm off to, so, er, I'll just be heading that way."

"It's at least one or two hours' walk.  I can give you a lift."  Rudy pointed down at the Jag.

I nodded, assuming good intentions.  "Now, that, I will take you up on.  Thanks."  So we marched back down the hill, saying nothing till we reached the sporty little yellow dart waiting at the side of the road.  Freddie must pay awfully well, if this is Rudy's leisure vehicle.

Rudy opened the door for me, and I slid in.  Then he walked around to the right side and tucked himself into the driver's seat.  Such a little car for such a big man- and so loud and eye-catching for a guy who said as little as possible.

He started the car, then looked at me.  "After breakfast."

Before I could protest, Rudy sped away from Solsbury Hill.  Why did I even bother making decisions anymore?  In dignified resignation, I sat back.

Before long, we were back in the city center.  We passed one, two, three different mom and pop restaurants and two pubs.  Suddenly a sneaking suspicion hit me. 

"You're just taking me to breakfast, right?" I asked cautiously.

Rudy nodded.

We passed another little cafe.  "So... where?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask that," Rudy murmured.  "I know this charming little tea house down in Piccadilly-"

I flipped.  Oh, no.  Not again.

My heart pounding, I shouted, "Pull over!"

"Julia, wait just a mo-"

"I said, PULL OVER!  NOW!"  I paused, then added, "PLEASE!"