Lola heard them laughing in the kitchen.
"Master, you are truly Masterful, merge your juices with mine in an ecstatic union," Roger quoted, "who writes your scripts?"
Georgina's grin remained, "They weren't just words, by then I had been coming non-stop for minutes and I felt like a wet sponge."
"How come I always seem to be missing out on sex lately?" Lola said as she walked directly to the teapot and poured a cup.
"What did I say about home mice?" Roger said.
"Plus Reggie and Judith already have a punter in the dungeon. To mix a metaphor, the early bird..."
"Judith?"
"See you've missed lots," Roger said.
"Yes sorry, a friend has been going through a little difficulty. I'm catching up with her again this morning. With any luck, we will have soon solved all her problems."
Lola looked at Georgina and Roger, they were nicely dressed.
"Going out?"
"Yep, Octavian at the Dorchester," Roger said.
Lola raised an eyebrow but said nothing of her liaison with his brother at the wedding.
"I'm meeting my friend at the corner of Broad Sanctuary and Storey's Gate at 9.30am. We can walk down together. You'd pick up a cab more easily in Victoria Street."
"That would be nice Lola, I have been missing your company too. A chat would be good." Georgina turned to Roger, "That's OK Roger?"
"Sure, the timing is perfect too. Go and grab your coat Lola and we'll stroll."
Lola walked away. Pleased for an opportunity to hide her face from her friends lest it betray her misgivings.
She had hated Roger for killing her sister. In September she would have enjoyed the feel of a sharp knife slicing his jugular vein, she would have relished seeing his life ebbing away and the stickiness of his blood on her hands. Now the emotion had gone, replaced by the realization that each fought for their own Country, principals, and beliefs. Her sister had died because of her loyalty, not Roger's brutality.
Georgina had shared with her that Roger still woke crying Cynthia's name, shouting - 'You'll be OK Cynthia, stay with me, please stay with me.'
Lola wiped away a tear, she was being silly. In another few weeks Britain would have surrendered and Lola would have put them in a strong position with the new overlords. She snatched her coat and met them in the kitchen.
Lola shut the door on the Hogarth Club, they were all coated up, prepared for the elements. November in London, it was chilly and foggy. The fog seemed to trap the smoke from the fires caused by last nights bombings. The docks were plastered last night.
Roger looked up at the sky, all he saw was an opaque mist. His senses felt dulled their footfalls dampened as the fog enveloped them. Roger felt fear for Georgina's safety his senses moved to high alert. He scanned the fog for danger but the visibility was poor all he could see was the girls. Lamp-posts and fences would solidify from the murk as they passed and disappear behind them.
Even with his familiarity of the roads he felt lost until he recognized the railings at the back of Westminster Abbey and saw headlights on Victoria Street. They only lit the fog, not the road so the vehicles were crawling along, it looked surreal.
Georgina and Lola were chatting away as only women can.
"I've got some perfume, Roger come and smell too," Lola said.
Georgina reached up to take the offered atomizer but Lola continued to bring it to Georgina's face, Roger was surprised at the last moment when Georgina struck the hand that was offered to his face. Her right hand was already reaching for the atomizer, her left hand had too far to travel to defend herself but it flew from her hip and struck Lola hard to the chest after she was sprayed fully in her eyes. Roger would have seen Lola fall had it not been for the excruciating pain and blurred vision.
Georgina's deflection of Lola's hand meant that Roger was only affected by the periphery of the spray. Roger heard Georgina gasp in pain then he heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle. Even though it was happening next to him the fog made it sound as if it was taking place beneath a blanket.
Thanks to Georgina's preventative action his vision was only impaired, he could see no detail but he could see the participants of the struggle. Roger pulled his revolver from his jacket and aimed at the larger figure and pulled the trigger. The explosive blast from the gun seemed unaffected by the fog, it was loud, as loud as Georgina's scream.
"I love you, Roger!"
Roger heard as one of the figures slumped to the pavement, the remaining figure was tall and male.
Even had Roger not been paralyzed with shock, he would have been too slow to defend against the blackjack which hit him skillfully behind the ear. He sank to his knees a mantra playing in his head - I've killed Georgina, I've killed Georgina. He continued falling when his head made sickening contact with the kerb, the mantra and everything else stopped.
Octavian's agents heard the screams and then a gunshot.
"Let's go," said Jamie, he was the senior agent.
They heard another shot and the ping of a bullet bouncing off the pavement.
"Cover!" Jamie shouted, "use the fog."
It seemed like a stupid thing to say, but they both knew what they were doing, they advanced slowly side by side, one facing forward one back.
They heard the scream of an engine as a vehicle accelerated away in front of them, they moved a little more quickly but were still cautious.
"There!"
They approached a slumped form on the pavement.
"He's alive," Jamie said as he turned him over.
"Fuck, we are in the shit. That's the Earl of Alveston, Eight's brother. Not only that, he hasn't left the woman's side since we've been watching. That means she's been taken."
"Over here."
Jamie knelt to see what had been found. It was a pool of blood.
"Whoever that blood used to belonged to is a goner, I didn't even think a body held that much blood." He pointed to a knife, even in the dull light the initials JM stood out.
"I'll stay with Eight's brother, you get help. Then get to Eight and let him know what's gone down."
"Thanks a heap, I'll stay, you do it."
"RHIP and I know first aid."
The agent slipped away quietly. The next person who told him that Rank had it's privileges would be in a sea pain.
—<~>—
Roger was floating, his world was white. He heard voices and gravitated towards them. He could feel his consciousness climbing he felt the throb of physical pain.
The voices were like a loudspeaker at the railway station in the fog.
"Whoever that blood used to belonged to is a goner, I didn't even think a body held that much blood."
Then he remembered. He had shot and obviously killed Georgina. The realization flooded his body with the toxins of regret, anger, and remorse. He tried to imagine his life without Georgina and failed.
