This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

Exit Wounds

by London Lampy

Chapter 8

I met up with Jack briefly at lunch and told him that Vio had said he could stay with her, gave him her key and promised him that I'll get there as soon as I can after I've finished at the theatre. Fortunately Vio was fine with my plan as she gets on with Jack, although she did accuse me of "having my cake and eating it". That phrase has never made any sense to me; if you have a cake you eat it, cakes aren't for keeping, or for looking at, but when I said that she told me to shut up. She was very interested when I told her about Miss Collister's typewriter though, and she agreed that we should try to check it out when the grumpy woman isn't around. I went home and broke the good news to Topher that he could come with me, and we're now sitting on the tram on our way to the Empress theatre for Mrs Sampson's charity gala night. We're both dressed up for the occasion, I can't stop glancing at Topher sitting next to me and I kind of wish that we didn't have anywhere to be.

"You look great," I say to him quietly. He smiles back at me and I very much want to kiss him, but I can't on a busy tram so I settle for discreetly slipping my hand into his.

"So I have to be nice to all the people you work with?"

"To Sampson and Mrs Sampson you do, yes. Please, it's really important, you need to act like an earl and be, I don't know, noble."

He laughs. "I can do that you know, can I be nice to Vin too?" he says this kind of suggestively.

"I'd rather you weren't, not too nice anyway. Please don't give him any ideas."

"I think he already has them."

"Alright, don't give him any more ideas."

"Would I?" Topher questions in mock defensive tones.

"Yes, you're a terrible flirt." I squeeze his hand.

"And you are not? Aren't you the one who has actually slept with him, and the one who is now seeing two people at once? Although thinking about it that makes you more of a slut than a flirt."

"Have you been talking to Vio?"

"No, why?" he sounds puzzled. I guess he hasn't, but that's Vio's favourite thing to call me when she's being rude.

"Never mind. Sampson thinks that you must be related to the King of Surosa and he told me he wanted to ask you about it, so if he does make something up. Tell him the king is your second cousin or something, it'll keep him happy."

"I could say that, but he is actually my grandfather."

"What?"

"The king is my grandfather," he repeats.

"That can't be true. If he was wouldn't you be a prince and living in a palace or something?"

"Wrong side of the blankets," Topher says cryptically.

"What has bedding got to do with it?"

"It is an expression that you clearly have not heard." He sighs in an exaggerated fashion. "It means that a person, in this case my mother, was born outside of marriage. My grandmother was the king's lover and she became pregnant with my mother by him. I have never met him and by all accounts my mother was only one of his many bastard children, but he is still my grandfather."

Because talking about his family and his past is something he generally hates to do I rarely ask him much, but I'm still surprised he never told me that before. "Are you telling the truth?" I ask, Topher is sometimes prone to exaggeration.

"Yes," he retorts loudly. "King Didrick is my grandfather."

"Alright, I believe you," I say as several people turn to look at us. "And I suppose it'll give you something to talk to Sampson about."


Vin is standing outside the theatre talking to a smartly dressed young man with unnaturally blond hair when we arrive. "There you are," he glances at his watch. "This space is being kept clear for Sampson's carriage." He indicates a stretch of road in front of him, and as he does the blond man shoos off a cab that attempts to pull up in it. "They should be here any minute."

"If you are body-guarding him why have you not come with him?" Topher asks Vin. "If someone wanted to kill him could they not do it just as easily in his carriage as here?"

"We're mostly for show," Vin replies, and he doesn't sound nearly as exasperated with Topher as he would with me if I asked that question. I suppose this isn't Topher's job and he's not meant to just know that kind of thing, however I had been thinking it as well. "Mrs Sampson wants everyone to know just how important her husband, and by extension herself, is."

"I see," Topher replies. He's standing just a little too close to Vin and I have to resist the temptation to pull him away.

"Exit," Vin turns to me. "When we get inside I need you to at least look like you're working. You're not here to watch the show, you need to be keeping an eye on what's going on around us. I doubt very much anything will happen, Clearwater have been pretty quiet lately and I don't know of any other direct threat to Sampson, but that doesn't mean you can slack off. If you spot something even slightly suspicious tell me straight away, I'm armed."

"You have got a gun?" Topher asks, looking Vin up and down to see where it is.

"Yes, and not so loud please," he says this with an amused smile. Again if it was me he wouldn't be nearly so indulgent.

"Why does Exit not have one?" he asks.

"Because he doesn't like them, he only carries one when he absolutely has to."

"Is that because you got shot?" he quizzes me.

"Partly," I say. "It puts you off, but I also don't like shooting people either." I think back to Ev chasing me through the burning plantation house, it was him or me, but I hated having to do it.

"You have shot somebody?" He looks at me with wide eyes. "Who?"

I'm saved from having to answer his question by the Sampson's carriage pulling into the space that the blond man has been keeping free for them. The driver jumps down from his perch to open the door, and the first person out is Mrs Sampson. I've only seen her on a couple of occasions before, but she's always been dressed as if she were off for a night out, even if it was the middle of the day. For an actual night out when she knows that all eyes will be on her she's upped her game. Her brown hair has been swept up, elaborately curled and pinned into place with a number of jewelled pins, and on top of all that is balanced a small hat that is decorated with bright green feathers and a riot of netting. Her long face is framed by a pair of huge glittering earrings that I am in no doubt contain real diamonds and emeralds, and around her neck is a necklace to match that has to fight for attention with the heavy fur stole that she's wearing despite the fact that it's the middle of summer and a hot night. Like Samson himself she's tall and lean and her rather curve-less body is sheathed in a green shot silk dress that reaches to the ground. It's trimmed with black lace at the neck and on the sleeves, which are short enough to reveal long black velvet gloves, and on top of them she has on several large gem-set rings. She unfolds herself out of the carriage in a cloud of perfume, a black lace fan in one hand, the other holding her skirt up out of the dirt of the street.

"Wilberforce!" she calls out in a shrill voice. "Bring my clutch please." At first I think this is directed at the driver, but then Sampson emerges from behind her in full white tie and tails carrying a small, green, beaded evening bag along with his silver topped cane.

"Wilberforce?" I mouth at Vin, trying not to laugh. He gives me a small nod in return, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly turned up. I suppose that Sampson has to have a first name, but as I've never heard him called anything other than "Sampson" or "sir" I had no idea it was something quite so ridiculous.

"Good evening," Sampson greets Vin and me, then notices Topher. "Ah, and you are?"

I'm about to introduce Topher to Sampson but he gets in there first. "The Earl of Breakspear," he says, extending his hand. Breakspear, that's it.

Sampson then introduces Mrs Sampson to him and the blond man leads us inside, with Sampson still chatting to Topher and Vin and me following behind. I try to stick to Vin's instructions of looking for suspicious people, but all I see are a lot of women and quite a few men dressed a lot like the Sampsons. In the foyer they stop to greet several people and Sampson introduces Topher to them by his title, but with no explanation as to why he's there, although I doubt that he's going to tell all the society people of Parnell that his guest of honour is actually his bodyguard's boyfriend. After a while of mingling in an increasing hot and crowded foyer a bell rings and the blond man escorts us up a staircase and into a box that has a row of chairs set out so that their occupants can both look out over the auditorium and down onto the stage. However there's only four chairs, I guess they weren't expecting an extra person.

"Don't suppose you could bring us a bottle of champagne?" Sampson asks the blond man, who nods and disappears.

"Champers all round!" Sampson rubs his hands together as he sits down in one of the middle seats. Mrs Sampson takes the seat on his left hand while Topher takes the one to the right and Vin sits in the final one on the end next to Topher, leaving me standing behind Mrs Sampson who completely ignores me. I try to act in a professional manner and look all around for any possible threats but nothing seems out of place, and the auditorium is so big that a potential assassin could be hiding almost anywhere.

When the blond man arrives with the drink and has poured out a glass for everyone except me as I refuse when he offers I ask him if he has any other chairs. "Sorry, all the box seats are being used," he frowns. "We're full tonight, but I'll see if I can find you something else."

I thank him as he leaves again then look at our little party. Topher is drinking and chatting animatedly with Sampson, I briefly catch his eye and frown at him. In return he gives me a mouthed "what?" and I realise that I shouldn't be annoyed, he's doing exactly what I asked him to do and is being nice and polite to the Sampsons. I do however notice that although he's talking to them he has contrived to pull his chair right up next to Vin's, any closer and he'll be in his lap.

It's a hot night outside and is even hotter in the theatre. With no windows to open and every seat taken the air soon feels thick and damp and filled with the mingled scents of many perfumes, cigarette smoke and human sweat, it's not pleasant. Sampson removes his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of his seat prompting Vin and Topher to do the same, and Mrs Sampson to take off her fur stole. I keep my jacket on as I have nowhere to to put it; I hope I don't end up having to stand for the entire show, it's kind of awkward. As I wait for the blond man to return with something for me to sit on I listen to what Sampson is saying to Topher, he's telling him about the last thing he saw in this particular theatre.

"It was Ava Aviva, have you ever seen her?" he questions him.

"No, I am afraid I have not," Topher shakes his head. He's clearly being on his best behaviour, I always find it funny when he's like this. Why couldn't he have been polite Topher when he met Jack?

"Splendid, splendid woman," Sampson continues. I notice as he says this Mrs Sampson is giving him what is very clearly a hard stare. "The most wonderful singer too, they call her the Parnell nightingale you know. Hasn't been back here for some years, mores the pity, don't know why but it's a damn shame. We went backstage to meet her in her dressing room after the show, didn't we my dear?" He glances at his wife, who narrows her eyes at him, he doesn't notice. "She was the epitome of charm, and, I say, she has quite the figure." Sampson makes an hourglass shape with his hands.

"Wilberforce," Mrs Sampson says sharply. "I don't think the young earl wants to know about that sort of thing." I doubt Topher does either, but not for those reasons. If Mrs Sampson thinks that because he looks young and pretty he's innocent and easily shocked she's very wrong. I get a sudden mental image of him naked and spread across the bed begging to be fucked.

"Whatever you say my dear," Sampson replies mildly, but then nudges Topher in the ribs with his elbow and makes the hourglass shape again. Vin looks over his shoulder at me and rolls his eyes, I turn away and laugh.

There's a noise from below us, the band are starting to tune up which means that the show will be starting soon. To my relief the door to the box opens and the blond man comes in carrying a small three legged stool. "Sorry, it's the only thing I could find," he apologises, passing it to me.

"It's fine, thanks," I say as he goes. I suppose it's better than nothing. As the other four are taking up all of the space at the front of the box I place my stool behind Vin and Topher.

"Exit, sit up the other end behind Mrs Sampson, we need to spread out," Vin orders. I reluctantly do as he says, taking my stool and placing it behind Mrs Sampson and her hat. If we had seats that were the same height she'd still be taller than me, even without the hat, with it and with me on a tiny stool I can see nothing of the stage or the stalls below us. All I can do is look up at the upper levels of the theatre or straight ahead at the backs of the heads of the people in front of me. Topher is now talking to Vin, who has his arm resting along the back of Topher's chair. They're speaking too quietly for me to hear what they're saying over the noise of the band, but whatever they're talking about it looks kind of intimate with Vin speaking directly into Topher's ear, and Topher laughing softly.

The band finally stop their squeaks and clunks and strike up a rousing tune in time with one another, the lights in the auditorium dim to black, the blue velvet curtain that has up to now been covering the stage is lifted and the show begins.

The first act on is a comic who makes a lot of very bad jokes about men walking into bars and how fat his wife is, but at least it doesn't matter that I can't see him, it wouldn't make him any funnier if I could. Once he's done he introduces a dancing duo, I guess that the man is lifting the woman into the air from time to time because I occasionally see a hand appearing above Mrs Sampson's hat. I give up trying to watch and stare around the auditorium instead. All eyes are on the stage except mine and I look up into the very top tear of the place where gilded plasterwork fat babies frolic amongst garlands of flowers. For something to do I'm counting the fat babies when a movement next to a brass lighting bracket catches my eye. I stare at it trying to work out what I'm seeing, there seems to be some kind of hatch or disguised window that is very slowly opening, a dark wedge behind it growing bigger as it inches wider. I assume that in the darkness is hidden a member of the theatre's staff who want to take a sneaky look at the show without disturbing anyone, but I come to the conclusion that it also counts as "something slightly suspicious" and I decide to point it out to Vin.

I stand up and am about to discreetly tap him on the shoulder when there's a sudden flash, a loud bang and all hell breaks loose. Vin shouts "Get down!" as soon as he realises that a shot has been fired in our direction, Sampson throws himself onto his wife and together they end up toppling backward onto the floor in their chairs. As this is happening another gun shot cracks out and the bullet whistles past my ear, then I hear a third. The audience is in an uproar now, unsure of what is happening they are rushing toward the doors to try to escape, the band have stopped playing and the curtain rapidly drops to cover the stage. I don't care about any of this though, and I have no thoughts of attempting to leave because still sitting in his chair with an expression uncomprehending shock on his face is Topher, a swiftly growing red stain spreading across his shirt from where he has been shot.

Previous
Chapter
Next
Chapter
Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead