Going Underground

Chapters six to ten

CHAPTER SIX – BOY ABOUT TOWN

            “Mods!  Modettes!  How the hell are you?” a voice suddenly boomed out as if from nowhere, leaving Tracey somewhat frustrated by yet one more interruption to her investigations.

            However, try as she might, it seemed her husband’s shared history with Andrea and Mickey P. was a definite no-go area.  All thanks to Jonathan’s ability to stone wall her at every turn and the other two’s loyalty in letting him get away with it.  Plus here she was having to contend with another diversion, which was something she could’ve very much done without.  And feeling like this was turning into a bit of a habit, she realised she’d no choice but to once again look round along with the others, to see who the voice actually belonged to. 

Oh no, she thought, spotting the latecomers from the church fast approaching their table.  Please don’t tell me Jonathan knows these two as well.   Unfortunately for her, there was no getting away from the fact that he clearly did and she had to endure the misfortune of her prayers being left unanswered. 

            “Swifty... My man!” the latecomer bellowed, making a bee line straight for her husband – and somewhat over zealously at that, Tracey noted; particularly when his words weren’t just accompanied by a firmer than necessary handshake, but one that only just stopped short of a complete arm dislocation. 

This chap obviously has something to prove, she observed, wondering if she should intervene on Jonathan’s behalf.  After all, she might have been irritated by her husband’s success in slowing down her enquiries, but it wasn’t as if she’d quite got to the stage of wishing him any physical harm just yet.

            “Roger,” Jonathan seemed to just about manage in return.

            “Please,” continued the latecomer.  “Call me The Ace Face.  Roger is so yesterday... don’t you think?” 

            Only then did he release his grip.

            The Ace Face! What kind of name is that? Tracey asked herself.  Not that she had time to dwell on the subject, however.  What with this rather strange man already taking hold of her hand and now bowing Walter Raleigh style to her Elizabeth I.

O...M...G...! she said to herself, her eyes widening in horror as he then did the unthinkable and kissed her fingers – a somewhat over the top gesture for both herself and the twenty first century, she couldn’t help but think.

            “The Ace Face at your service,” he offered. 

Then he just as quickly moved on to whom Tracey could only consider to be his next victim; mercifully giving her the opportunity to wipe her hand down the side of her dress – a necessary action that she just hoped no-one else had noticed.

            “Now if my eyes don’t deceive me...” The Ace Face sang.  “The lovely Andrea...” 

Tracey watched him pull her into a massive bear hug before he leant back slightly to take a good look at her.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” he said.

            “What?” thought Tracey, incredulous.  “If she’s the girl in the photo, then she’s bloody well changed a lot! 

She couldn’t help but wonder why this man seemed to have to be so larger than life that it wasn’t just cringe worthy, it was down right painful.  Thinking it no wonder Jonathan had been so guarded about his past.  After all, wouldn’t anyone with friends like these?  Maybe that was it, she considered.  Maybe there hadn’t been any skeletons in his closet at all; maybe his silence was just the result of sheer embarrassment.  A theory Tracey was more than happy to give some credit, especially when The Ace Face then suddenly and animatedly began looking about himself, as if to say he’d lost something.