Chapter 71: The Attic

Downstairs is a chill out zone with plush sofas and many oil lamps lighting up the clear white space. I hand my cloak over to a cloakroom attendant and pretend I do not notice the grey blotches on his hand. He looks over my shoulder, probably wondering where my Pigs are.

I smile over at Al who is busy poking at a sofa, testing to see if it is as comfy as it looks. “I am with my boyfriend tonight. His friends wanted to see my hangouts.”

The attendant stands more alert. “Cloudys?”

“Team Geordie to be exact,” says the leader himself as he shunts me out the way so he can surrender his cloak. “We’re cementing our new member in proper. Case here has replaced Charlie who walked out on us.”

“Idiot,” I hiss. “Your statement will be prime gossip.”

“Exactly.” Geordie taps the counter. “I’d like a drink, please.” He gets handed a wooden chip instead.

“The number corresponds with your cloak, so it won’t get stolen or mixed up,” I explain. “He does not serve drinks.”