Winter Queen (Roger Taylor fanfic)

17. ...she met somebody

"Austin?"

"Thank God, Mary." Josie sobbed.

"Josie, what's going on?"

Josie tried to explain so briefly, so she had enough change. Mary told her the Taylor's house number in Truro and Josie dialed it immediately afterwards.

"Clare Taylor." Josie heard the familiar voice.

"Clare, it's Josie. Is you brother home?"

"Rog?! Come on, move it, it's Jo. Something happened." Clare hurried him. Josie noticed she used the same nickname as Roger always did and smiled a little in spite of everything.

"Princess?" he rapped out, as soon as he got the receiver into his hand.

"Rog, I..." She began to cry again.

"What hapenned?"

"I shouldn't bother you on Christmas with your family, but... We had a huge fight at home and there's no train to London and I have no..."

"I'll come and get you, I'm going right now, just tell me where are you. I'll be there in two hours."

She hesitated, it was cold and she had no idea where to spend the next two hours. Finally she told him the closest square and decided to walk around a wait there.

"Thank you, Rog." she whispered, her voice cracking in cry.

"Just stay someplace safe."

And then the call was dead. She walked around the square nervously, the cold was getting to her bones. She watched the windows, decorated with lights and shivered. Then she noticed one pub was open. At first she was scared to go in, but then the cold won and she took a peak inside.

The pub looked cozy, a bit dark maybe, very English, with a burning fireplace.

"I was just about to close." the man behind the bar said, with a bit of exotic accent.

"I'm sorry, I'm leaving."

"Wait." he stopped her and she stood by the open door."Come in, just close the door, madam, there's draught."

She closed the door and looked around the empty pub, then on the owner.

"I saw it's open and it's really cold out there and I..."

"Girl like you and have no place to spend Christmas?"

"I'm waiting for a friend." she explained.

"Do you want tea, coffee or something stronger?"

"Something stronger would not go amiss." She sat on a barstool closest to the fire and drank the whiskey. The burning alcohol helped her a bit, though she really didn't appreciate the taste.

"So, why's miss like you alone and outside on Christmas?" He asked again, with the professionality of barman.

"I had a fight with my parents." she explained and knew she sounds like teenager. She watched the man, he was tall with broad shoulders, but he was slouching. He reminded her of a big, sad bear, with kind eyes full of grief.

"How is it your pub is the only one opened around here?"

"Come on, miss, don't act like you don't have prejudices, you don't have to that." he laughed.

"Well excuse me, but I don't. I'am immigrant too." she sad. The dark-skinned man, around his forties, inspected her.

"Latvian?"

"Czech. Josie." she extended her hand over the table.

"I'm Muhammed, but they call me Moody around here. I'm from Palestine."

"Oh." she breathed out unwittingly. Then she realized how many times she heard that sigh.

"Yeah." he smiled rather sadly. "Anyway, I thought I'm gonna make some money, like you said - the only opened pub around here. But as it turns out, you are the only person in Plymouth, that needs to hide from the world."

"Sorry, I'm not gonna make a big bill."

"But at least I'm doing a good deed, and from what I know, people should do things like that on Christmas. Even the heathens."

She chuckled.

"So I hope letting you stay at warm, until your friend arrives, will count. Is he the reasons you had fight at home?"

"Are you psychic?" she smirked.

"No, just a barman. And parents who don't like their daughters suitor, that's no news to me. Particularly in immigrant family. My parents are still in Gaza and they manage to forbid me girls." Moody laughed. Josie heart ached, when she realized he's Gazan.

"So, let me guess. You're from Czechoslovakia, so for your parents the worst option is either Russian or Englishman. And since we are here, my bet is the second one."

"Roger is not really my suitor."

"Is he not? It's Christmas eve and he drives here to pick you up."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"What about some hot chocolate?" he asked and handed her a box of tissues. She nodded, he made some and waited for her to calm down.

"So where is this Roger of yours driving from?"

"From Truro, he said about two hours. If you want to go home, I can wait outside."

"Oh no, I'm in no hurry and I can't let you freeze outside. I'm just asking, because, believe me that, no man would drive two hours on a Christmas eve, if he wouldn't care about the girl."

"I don't think he doesn't care. But it's complicated."

"It always is."

"He is... I realized I love him, just today."

"Then you should tell him. He deserves to know, if he drives to pick you up like that."

"He's not the type, I think."

It was just about an hour since she'd came, when the doors opened.