Killer Queen: A Painted Faces Novel (27 page)

It was a surreal but
happy moment.

When we reached the
venue, the house band were already waiting and immediately started up with
“White Wedding” by Billy Idol. Sean sat in his usual place by the drums, and I
vaguely wondered how he’d gotten to the club so quickly. Then he took me quite
by surprise when he went all Phil Collins and started to sing into a
microphone. His singing voice was uncharacteristically deep for someone whose
speaking voice was quite high-pitched. And I’m talking Barry White deep. Fred
burst out laughing the moment she heard him.

“Oh, my God, is he
being overdubbed, or is that actually Sean singing?”

Instead of answering, I
twirled her around and led her to the dance floor. It wasn’t a very
conventional first dance, but then again, nothing about us was ever going to be
conventional.

Tables had been set up all
around for the food, and Phil had done a wonderful job transforming the club.
The two girls Fred had hired to work for her at the cupcake shop, Melissa and
Danielle, had made the cake, which was a gigantic chocolate cupcake covered in
delicious white buttercream frosting with a little model husband and wife on
top.

As soon as the song was
over, Fred was leading me to our table. “I’m famished, Viv. There’s nothing
like getting married to work up an appetite, and I’m having the strangest
craving for both cake and sausage.”

“Well” —I smirked—
“Melissa and Danielle have taken care of one of those things, and I’d be quite
happy to take care of the other.”

She gave me a look and
then smacked me on the arm when my meaning sank in. “You’re scandalous!”

I gave her a quick kiss
and then went in search of food to feed her cravings. Luckily enough, fancy
gourmet sausage had been included in the menu for the guests, so I could fulfil
Fred’s wishes. Feeding her as the party guests danced around us, I was filled
with a sense of hopefulness for the future. When we’d spent enough time
mingling and receiving everybody’s well wishes, I whisked Fred back to my
dressing room. I had a surprise for her.

She giggled as I led
her inside and locked the door behind me. She was giddy even though she hadn’t
been drinking. Drunk on a wedding buzz. I began to loosen my tie and unbutton
my shirt as I gave her a sexy look. She sat down on the chair by the mirror and
gazed at me. My jaw was starting to feel sore from all the smiling I’d been
doing that day.

“Are you giving me a
striptease, husband?” she purred, and licked her lips. Ever since she’d gotten
pregnant, her sexual appetite had seemed to double. Normally, I was the one to
initiate things, but these days I often found myself being pounced on, and I
was enjoying it immensely.

“In a sense,” I
answered. “I have something I want to show you — a wedding gift, you could call
it.”

“Oh, yes?” she said.

“Yes. I neglected to
tell you that Phil and the boys brought me to a tattoo parlour as part of my
stag night.”

Her eyes flared, and
she sat up straighter. “You got a new tattoo! How have I not seen it yet?”

“Well, since you were
so adamant that we not see each other before the wedding, you haven’t had the
chance to glimpse this hot bod of mine in a couple of days.”

I held onto the edge of
my shirt to make sure I didn’t reveal anything yet. I wanted to draw it out,
torture her a little.

“Show me,” she begged,
then stood to move toward me, her hands fumbling for my shirt.

“Ah, ah, ah, be
patient, my darling,” I teased, and caught her lips in mine. I didn’t realise
how turned on she was until I felt her tremble from the kiss alone. “Aw, poor
Fred, are you feeling a little needy after only a few days of celibacy?” I
chuckled low and affectionate.

She pouted. “Don’t
tease me. It’s not nice.”

I took her chin in my
hand and moved her face so her eyes were level with my chest. Then I pulled my
shirt open fully to reveal the ink. I thought it was beautiful in its
simplicity. It read “Freda” in black script right over my heart. She gasped
when she saw it and ran her fingers over the letters. Then her eyes rose to
mine, and I could see in her expression that she loved it.

She swallowed as she
stared at me. “I think you need to make love to me now, Mr Turner,” she
whispered, and I could tell just from the tone of her voice that she was
aching. I circled her like a predator and backed her up against the wall, my
palm flat on her heaving chest.

“I’d be happy to, Mrs
Turner.”

September 26
^th
,
2015.

Soundtrack: “Kids” by MGMT

“HAHAHAHA!!” the little hellion giggled
as she shot right past me, her hands and face covered in pink cupcake frosting,
her mop of golden-brown curls bouncing as she ran. Fred walked out from the
kitchen, wiping the sweat from her brow and placing a hand on her hip. She
feigned annoyance.

“That’s it,” she said
when she saw me. “I’m officially banning all children from this shop. I’ve had
enough. They’re all thieves.”

More excited giggles
rang out from somewhere behind one of the tables, and I couldn’t help the grin
that spread across my face as I got down on my hands and knees and began to
crawl. I couldn’t see her yet, so I followed the giddy sounds she was making.
When I saw her, she was licking the frosting from her fingertips, and her yellow
dress was smeared with chocolate sauce. I paused, and she must have heard me,
because her bright blue eyes met mine and she let out a little yelp in fright.
For a moment, her eyes widened as though guilty at being caught. It was
comical.

I put on a very stern
frown as I scooped her up into my arms and carried her out from under the
table. “Are you back on the sugar, Sally? I think we may have to put you into
rehab again, and this time it’ll be cold turkey.”

Fred laughed and shook
her head as I carried our little girl over and set her on the counter. A week
ago she’d turned two. I couldn’t believe how the time was flying by. She looked
so much like me, yet so much like Fred all at once. I didn’t think I could
adore a tiny person much more than I adored this one.

“Daddy!” she squealed,
and threw her arms around my middle.

Fred walked over and
softly yanked on one of Sally’s curls. “Oh, no, you don’t. Daddy can’t save you
from your crimes this time. You’ll be facing the consequences, mark my words.”

She squeezed me tighter
and glanced up at me, all coy. The evidence of what she’d done was everywhere,
and yet it looked like she actually believed she could deny it. Children were
crazy.

“Did you steal Mummy’s
cupcake frosting again?” I asked, and she adamantly shook her head. “So I
suppose you didn’t sneak any chocolate sauce, either?” Again she shook her
head, the picture of innocence and blatant evidence.

Fred let out a
theatrical sigh. “Brazen. Just like her father.”

“Oh, don’t go blaming
me for this,” I teased. “You can’t place a toddler in a room full of colourful,
sugary treats and expect her not to go pilfering.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,
she’s not getting any sweets for the rest of the week,” Fred warned, pinching
Sally playfully on the nose and then going to clean the display cabinet. “I’ll
be lucky to get her asleep tonight, with all the sugar she’s had.”

I lifted Sally back
down onto the floor, and off she went like a bat out of hell. Fred was right —
it was going to take a whole lot of activity to wear her out enough for sleep.
I reached for Fred and pulled her to me. “How are you?” I murmured, and kissed
her softly on the lips, my hand rubbing soothing circles into her lower back.
“You look tired.”

“I am a little tired,”
she admitted. “Danielle called in sick this morning, so I had to deal with the
lunchtime rush by myself. It’s not so bad, though. Business is good. Oh, and
Phil’s coming over soon to take Sally to play in the park.” She paused and
buried her face in my neck. “It’ll give us a little alone time.”

I growled quietly and
squeezed her hips. About a year ago, we’d moved into the two-bedroom apartment
above the cupcake shop. It was useful when you wanted to slip upstairs for a
quickie. And when you had a toddler, quickies were all you had time for. I wasn’t
complaining, though. Life was good and full and bright.

“Anyway, how did the
photo shoot go? Did you have fun?” Fred asked, breaking through my thoughts.
I’d been asked to interview for a magazine, since the Dublin Fringe Festival
was currently underway and I was doing a special show I’d created in homage to
the great female singers of our time.

“Lots of fun. You know
Viv is an absolute whore for attention,” I joked.

“Oh, yes, she’s never
been camera-shy, has our Viv,” Fred added fondly just as the door to the shop
swung open and Phil stepped inside. I hadn’t seen too much of him lately
because he’d started seeing someone, and it seemed to be pretty full-on. I’d
never known him to be so taken with a partner, so I was thinking this new guy
could be the one.

He had his chihuahua
Pickles with him, which was a recipe designed to double Sally’s hyperactivity
in an instant. The moment she laid eyes on the dog, she let out a shriek of
excitement and immediately ran for the poor thing. Old Pickles was getting on
in years, and I didn’t think she had the energy for the excitement of my very
giddy two-year-old.

“I’ve come to take the
little madam for a stroll,” Phil announced. “Give you two love birds a moment
of peace.”

“Take her, take her,”
Fred joked as she drew away from me and swept Sally up into her arms. Pickles
was visibly relieved. “I’ll sell her to you for a very fair price.” Sally
giggled as Fred tickled her and thrust her out to Phil.

Phil took her willingly
and gave her a big, squeezy hug. If there was anyone who loved our little girl
as much as we did, it was Phil. He always pretended it was a bother, but I knew
he adored having her. “Come on, my dear,” he crooned affectionately. “How do
you feel about a go on the swings?” He turned back to us just before he left,
nodding his goodbyes.

Fred went about wiping
down the counters. It was just half an hour until closing time, and it didn’t
look like any more customers were going to show up. I moved behind her and
wrapped my arms around her middle, breathing in her smell. It was an oddly
mundane moment to stick in my memory, but it did. I was struck with the
realisation of how content I was.

“I fucking love our
life,” I whispered in her ear.

I could see the edge of
her mouth curve in a smile as she responded, “Yeah, me, too.”

END

Have
you read Fred’s side of the story yet? If you enjoyed
Killer Queen
,
you’ll love
Painted Faces
!

Come
forth with an open mind, for an unconventional tale of love…

Dublin
native Freda Wilson considers herself to be an acquired taste. She has a habit
of making offensive jokes and speaking her mind too often. She doesn't have the
best track record with first impressions, which is why she gets a surprise when
her new neighbour Nicholas takes a shine to her.

Nicholas
is darkly handsome, funny and magnetic, and Freda feels like her black and
white existence is plunged into a rainbow of colour when she's around him. When
he walks into a room he lights it up, with his quick wit and charisma. He is a
travelling cabaret performer, but Freda doesn't know exactly what that entails
until the curtains pull back on his opening night.

She
is gob-smacked and entirely intrigued to see him take to the stage in drag.
Later on, Nicholas asks her if she would like to become his show assistant.
Excited by the idea, she jumps at the chance. Soon she finds herself immersed
in a world of wigs, make-up and high heels, surrounded by pretty men and the
temptation of falling for her incredibly beautiful employer.

In
this story of passion and sexual discovery, Nicholas and Freda will contend
with jealousy, emotional highs and lows, and the kind of love that only comes
around once in a lifetime.

Buy on
Amazon

About
the author

L.H. Cosway has a BA in English
Literature and Greek and Roman Civilisation and an MA in Postcolonial
Literature. She lives in Dublin city. Her inspiration to write comes from
music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing,
dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books.

She thinks that
imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories.

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