Glory Days

Chapter Five

Emma re-entered the B&B and walked past the front desk which was still unattended. She stepped into the dingy living room, her feet making an odd sticking sound as she crossed the tacky surface of the carpet. Rob and Blake were both on the floor lying flat on their backs. It was tempting to leave them there and let them get hell for it when whoever ran this sleazy joint returned, but she figured she’d at least check they were still breathing - common courtesy and all that.

    Blake’s chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, characteristic of someone in a deep sleep. It was with reluctance that she turned her attention to Rob who also turned out to be alive.

    “Hey!” She slapped him soundly across the face allowing herself to appreciate just how good that felt. “Hey douchebag! Wake up!” His eyelids parted revealing some horribly bloodshot eyes. She waved the slightly battered flyer in front of his face. “I think I should go check out some gigs tonight while you do the clubs. Think about it – there’s less security, less people focusing on you cos they’re all looking at the band, right? Also don’t clubs have security cams? I’m sure the police would have checked them out. If there’s nothing on this killer they must be smart, right?” Emma had thought through her reasoning on the bus back. No way was she telling Rob the truth.

    Rob muttered something unintelligible and tried to roll over. Emma sat back on the carpet as the silence stretched out. Suddenly Rob was up on his feet and running at top speed towards the entrance of the B&B. She followed him at a trot but had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen.

    The sound of Rob being violently sick reached her ears before she got to the door. He’d managed to make it to the previously pretty flowerbed at the front of the property. It wasn’t looking so good anymore.

    “What the bloody hell’s going on here?!” Emma spun round to see a burly man with light brown hair walk up behind her. He stared at Rob in obvious horror.

  “He drank something he shouldn’t have,” Emma explained to the stranger with an apologetic shrug. The man was looking more appalled by the second at the bright green bile which was shooting out of Rob’s mouth. 

    “My Cyclamens!” He exclaimed, apparently referring to the small pink flowers which had once leant a quaint air to the otherwise boring building. They were now liberally coated in luminous vomit. Emma was now even more doubtful that what they’d been drinking had actually been whisky.

    “Oh, so you must be…” Emma started to say as Rob turned around to find out who she was talking to.

    “The owner,” the newcomer finished in perfect unison with Rob throwing up on his shoes.

    It took all of Emma’s charm and paying for their rooms upfront in order to get the owner of the establishment to stop threatening to sue Rob and see the very slightly funny side.

    “Those bottles have been there for decades. I’m pretty sure some hippie put absinthe and moonshine in the one that you drank.” Rob and the newly awoken Blake managed faint grimaces. The landlord’s expression darkened. “You’re still paying for it though!” Emma socked Rob in the nuts to stop him from opening his mouth and getting them all kicked out.

    They all met half an hour later in the boys’ double room. Both Rob and Blake had had a chance to eject the rest of their stomach contents and were now both looking pale and shaky, each clutching a bottle of water. Emma figured now was her best opportunity to run her idea past the pair (for the second time in Rob’s case). After she’d repeated her spiel there was a general mumbled consensus, but she still wasn’t sure she’d got through to them.