Snake Bandit - YA Rockstar Page 7

  “It must be hard to have to manage without,” Lucia said, cupping his face with her soft palm.

  “It is.” Rocco’s heart started to speed up as the opportunity for a night out with his best friend grew closer.

  “So maybe you’ll abide by your papa’s rules in future. Now, I’m off to do my puzzle, see you later sweetheart.”

  Lucia chucked Rocco’s cheek and, with a huge grin, walked away.

  “Did you really think Mum or Papa wouldn’t tell Nonna about your punishment?” Lessie giggled as Rocco’s face fell.

  “Yeah, but she always sides with us, she never takes their side.”

  “Well not this time, lover boy.”

  Lessie skipped down the last three steps of the stairs and stood in front of her brother, looking up at him and shaking her head.

  “You really peed them off, Rocky.”

  “I know,” he groaned. “And stop calling me fucking Rocky.”

  “Oh dear, oh dear. You do know that’s just made me more determined to call you Rocky all the time, don’t you?”

  Lessie folded her arms across her slogan t-shirt which said, ‘I’m the youngest as my parents finally got perfection’.

  Rocco ran a hand down his face and let out a strangled groan. “Please, Lessie, don’t give me shit today. I’m broke, knackered and missing my best mate, so I don’t need it.”

  “I thought you had a day off, seeing as Papa and everyone are in London doing interviews.

  “I’m not allowed to go away from the house.” Rocco pulled a list from his pocket and flapped it in front of Lessie’s face. “He’s not even here and is working me like a bloody slave.”

  Lessie took the paper from Rocco’s fingers and read it. “Ooh,” she said with a grimace. “Mow the lawn with the push mower, not the sit on mower. That’s harsh, that’s going to take you hours.”

  Rocco’s heart dropped, their lawn was huge, the size of a football pitch.

  “Yeah, I know, and I don’t even know why I have to do it, we have a fucking gardener.”

  Lessie shrugged and carried on reading. “Clean out the garage, well that’s shit isn’t it, half of Mum and Betty’s stuff from before they lived with Papa is in there. Hmm what else…ooh I like this one.” Lessie looked up at Rocco and gave him an evil grin. “Clean all the shoes in the downstairs cloakroom.”

  “Have you seen how many pairs of shoes are in there?” Rocco demanded. “There’s got to be at least ten pairs that belong to Rafa—why can’t he wear trainers like any normal teenager?”

  Lessie looked pointedly down at Rocco’s highly polished, Paul Smith boots. “I think you’ll find he tries to emulate your style, big brother.”

  “Whatever, at least now I know why Papa was putting all his and Mum’s shoes in there last night. When I asked him what he was doing he just gave me a fucking stupid grin.”

  Lessie folded the note and stared at her brother’s handsome but totally miserable face. She actually felt a little sorry for him, not that he didn’t deserve his punishment, he did, but their parents were laying it on pretty thick.

  “Listen,” she said, handing him back the list. “I might have a little proposition for you.”

  “If you’re going to offer to help with my list then no. Mum will tell Papa and anyway, I have no money to pay you.”

  “Oh God, no,” Lessie cried, screwing her face in disgust. “Not helping, no way, not at all.”

  “So?”

  Rocco was exasperated with his little sister and was beginning to wish his parents had stopped at three kids.

  “So,” she replied, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder. “I will lend you some money, at a decent rate of interest obviously.”

  Rocco took a step forward and peered closely at her. “What’s the catch?”

  Lessie was not known for being generous with either her money or her good deeds, so to offer both, well it caught Rocco a little off guard.

  “No catch. Like I said, it’ll be a decent rate of interest.”

  “Decent for whom? You or me?”

  “Oh Rocky, Rocky, Rocky,” she breathed out in a sigh. “Being this dumb is what got you into this mess in the first place. Me of course.”

  Rocco shook his head. “Nope. Not worth it, you’ll just fleece me like you did Rafa when he wanted to buy that bloody Herno quilted jacket; the one he’d seen Hendrix wearing in that magazine.”

  “I thought it was totally fair that he pays me back and get me a new iPhone once he got his allowance. That was a good business deal.”

  “Yeah, but you charged him interest as well,” Rocco wailed. “You’re a shark.”

  Lessie smiled proudly. “I know. Now, do you want a loan or not.”

  Rocco scratched the back of his neck as he thought about it. “What’s the rate of interest?”

  “Well seeing as you’re my brother…” she trailed off.

  “Like that makes a fucking difference.”

  Lessie rolled her eyes. “Seeing as you’re my brother, I’ll give it to you at seventeen percent.”

  “Seventeen percent!”

  “Take it or leave it, Rocky, but that’s my decision. Unless of course you’d like me to lower it but throw a new laptop in there. I could do with an update.”

  Rocco’s eyes went wide. His youngest sister’s laptop was top of the range, so he knew upgrading wasn’t going to be small change.

  “No,” he snapped. “Seventeen percent is fine. When can you get me the cash?”

  “I only have so much at home, so it depends how much you need. I might have to ask Mum to take me to town.”

  “You can’t ask Mum,” Rocco hissed. “She’ll guess what you’re doing.”

  “No, she won’t, I’ll tell her I’m going clothes shopping with Matilda. She won’t have any idea how much I take out.”

  “Doesn’t she need to sign for it or something?”

  “No,” Lessie replied, deeply affronted. “I may only be eleven but, unlike you, our parents trust me with my money, and I have a cash card.”

  “They don’t trust you with a debit card though, do they?” Rocco grinned, thankful to finally get one over on his sister.

  “And you’re proud of yourself because of that, because you have one, but your little sister doesn’t?” Lessie shook her head. “You really are very sad Rocky, very sad indeed.”

  Rocco’s grin fell and he suddenly felt a little stupid. Why was it that she, the little shit that she was, always managed to make him feel like a dick?

  “Anyway, how much do you want?” she asked impatiently.

  “A couple of hundred?” He winced knowing that she was probably going to have to get their mum involved and that worried him.

  “I have that here, that’s no problem,” Lessie replied nonchalantly. “No need to go to town for that. How do you want it, tens, twenties, fifties or a mixture?”

  Rocco looked at her with his mouth open, having no clue how to respond.

  “A mixture,” Lessie offered, and Rocco nodded. “Okay, come to my room when you’ve finished your to do list, in the meantime I’ll draw up the contract to say you’ll owe me…let’s see…that’ll be…” Lessie looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds and then back to Rocco with a huge smile. “A total of two hundred and thirty-four pounds. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Rocco blew out his cheeks. “Little shit.”

  “I know,” Lessie replied. “But what would you do without me?”

  Chapter 11

  Eliza took a deep breath and smoothed down the red polo shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t her usual style, but it was the uniform for the leisure centre, so that and the matching shorts had to be worn and not with her usual thick black tights and Dr Marten boots.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice said. “You all set?”

  She looked up at Freddie Price, who had just walked into the staff room, and smiled. She thought about what Hendrix had said and so was determined to look at Freddie through clearer eyes.

  St
anding in an outfit the same as her own, Eliza had to appreciate how good he looked. Tall and lean with wide shoulders and amazing biceps, his body was much more ripped than Rocco’s, but not overly so and where Rocco had the look of a sultry bad boy, Freddie had clean-shaven, handsome features—his eyes were especially gorgeous, big and deep with long lashes; according to her Auntie Martha, he looked just like his dad had when he’d been a teenager.

  “Do I look okay?” she asked, feeling a little heat at her cheeks.

  Freddie appraised her and smiled. “Yeah, more than okay.”

  Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed toward the door.

  “Come on, I’ll show you what you need to do,” he called over his shoulder, beckoning for Eliza to follow.

  Over an hour later, having mopped the changing room floors, replenished toilet paper and hand towels and refilled the snack machine, Eliza and Freddie sat in reception chatting.

  “Is it always this quiet on a Sunday?” Eliza asked, staring out at the near empty car park.

  “It can be, it depends what the weather is like, whether there’s football on the TV, or if the schools are on holiday, because if they are, we’re busier in the week. Sunday morning can be hectic, you know with the weekend dads or gym bunnies working off the drink and kebab from the night before.”

  “So, we just sit here for the last two hours?” Eliza asked, flipping through a pamphlet. “What the hell is Saturday Morning Ravercise?”

  “Exactly what is says.” Freddie took the pamphlet from her and turned to another page. “We have this too; your parents might be interested.”

  He passed it back, grinning, as Eliza read the page.

  “Couples Yoga, ugh no I don’t think so. It’s bad enough even thinking about the fact that they still do things in the bedroom, they’re always sneaking off or kissing and cuddling in front of us.”

  “Yeah,” Freddie groaned. “Mine are like that too. Gross.”

  “I suppose it is nice that they’re still together though,” Eliza mused. “I have loads of friends with step parents they hate or step siblings who annoy them. That must be worse than hearing your parents getting it on regularly.”

  Freddie burst out laughing. “Yeah, I guess, although I’ve started to wear ear plugs in bed, just in case.”

  They looked at each other, grimaced and then burst out laughing

  “So, the ravercise, what exactly do they do?” Eliza asked after a couple of minutes.

  “Well, a load of middle-aged men and women turn up wearing smiley face t-shirts and these stupid hats that my dad says are called Bill and Ben hats, but we call Bucket Hats, and they dance around in the dark for an hour, raving like they’re nineteen again. Think your dad would fancy it?”

  “God no, he hates that sort of music. In fact, if it’s not played on a guitar, he doesn’t even class it as music. I have to agree though, if it’s not played on something, by someone, it’s generally rubbish.”

  “You play, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, my dad taught me everything I know.”

  “I remember you playing in the school band for a little while, how come you stopped?”

  Eliza rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say my dad felt it absolutely necessary to let Miss Green, the music teacher, know that she was teaching me guitar in the wrong way. You play piano, don’t you?”

  Freddie nodded and sighed. “Yeah, my mum thought me and my cousin, Dominic, could be the next Pet Shop Boys, seeing as he has a good singing voice, but he’s also seven years older than me and joined the Navy.”

  Eliza gave a confused frown. “What or who are the Pet Shop Boys?”

  “Exactly. They’re some cheesy pop band from the eighties.”

  “Oh, is your mum into that sort of stuff?”

  “Yeah, and my Auntie Charlotte and their best friend, my Auntie Kerry. They’re always going off to watch shit like that, you know, boy band reunions or tribute bands. My dad despairs of her, he’s an R&B man.”

  “Well, it’s all rock in our house, even my mum likes it nowadays, although I sometimes wonder if that’s just her way of getting a quiet life. You know, tell Dad she loves the same music as him because the alternative would be him pulling some sort of crazy shit to persuade her otherwise.”

  Eliza giggled at the thought of what her dad would do if he ever thought her mum liked cheesy pop.

  “Do you still play?” Freddie asked, pulling a small feather from Eliza’s curls and handing it to her.

  “Where’s that from?”

  Freddie shrugged. “No idea, so do you?”

  “Yeah,” Eliza replied, examining the feather and putting it onto the desk. “I have a band; well, I had a band. Up until my two friends, Lynsey and Donna, went travelling. That means I’ve got no drummer or bassist now.”

  “So, you sing as well?”

  “I try,” Eliza giggled. “But I’m not my Uncle Luke. I tend to have my dad’s backing vocal level of talent where singing is concerned.”

  Freddie cleared his throat and straightened up the couple of pens that were lying next to the cash register. “You never ask Rocco to join you?”

  Eliza’s heart did a little jump at the mention of Rocco’s name, but it was only momentary and not the thudding hammering which she usually experienced.

  “No,” she answered, her eyes darting to look outside. “Not sure he’d be up for it, although he does have a good voice.”

  “Well, I guessed he would, seeing as who his dad is. What about Ethan, he any good at drums?”

  Eliza laughed. “What do you think?”

  “That’s a yes then, so the question is, why the hell were they not in your band in the first place?”

  Eliza thought momentarily about lying and saying it was because she didn’t want them to be, but it had always been her dream that they form a band; Rocco and Ethan were simply more interested in girls and booze and thought Eliza’s idea to form a band stupid.

  “They didn’t want to,” she replied honestly. “Thought it was a crap idea and too cliché, you know, the kids of a famous rock band forming a band.”

  “You could ask again,” Freddie offered. “They might be up for it now, seeing as they don’t have the option to do anything else this summer.”

  “You know about that?” Eliza asked, her brows raising quizzically.

  “Yeah, Jackson told my cousin Bella, who told Rosie, who told me.”

  Freddie and Eliza both laughed about the intricacies of the gossip trail at the high school which they’d all attended.

  “I suppose I could ask them, but it all seems pretty pointless without any sort of a gig to be honest. They wouldn’t be interested in having to work and rehearse, particularly if there’s nothing in it for them.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Never mind, Lizzy. Maybe when your friends come back you can start up again.”

  Eliza smiled softly and poked Freddie in the arm. “Probably and stop calling me Lizzy.”

  Freddie grinned and gave Eliza’s chair a quick swizzle back and forth, almost tipping her off.

  “Oi,” she cried, grabbing at his arm. “I almost fell then.”

  “Sorry, but don’t worry, I’d have given you the kiss of life, in fact,” he said, steadying her chair, “anytime you need it make sure to ask me first.”

  Eliza could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and wondered when it had got so hot in the reception area. Falling short of fanning herself, she gave Freddie a shy smile and looked back out of the window.

  Maybe Hendrix was right, maybe Freddie did like her. He’d been gentle when he’d taken the feather from her hair, he’d now offered to give her the kiss of life if she needed it, aside from which he made her laugh and was good company. Okay, so Rocco and Ethan were all those things, but she didn’t think Freddie looked at her like a mate, who just happened to have tits and a shapely arse. No, Freddie appeared to look at her as a woman, who also happened to be a friend.

  “So,” she said after a couple of minutes of
silence. “Will we always be on shift together?”

  Freddie turned and faced Eliza and let his gaze travel across her face and then down her body, only stopping at her ankles with the pure white ankle socks covering them. He fancied her so much and had for ages, but just when he had plucked up the courage to ask her out, he’d seen the way she looked at Rocco and it had all changed. It was no longer the look of wonderment of a best mate who she looked up to, but the needy and heated gaze of a woman who desperately wanted his attention. Maybe now though, that they were working together, and Rocco was pretty much a prisoner of Dirty Riches, it was time to make his move and show her how suited they actually were, but more importantly how he’d treat her better than anybody ever had before.

  “We can be, if you’d like us to be,” Freddie replied, trying to sound casual.

  Eliza's voice was timid as she said, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Excellent.” Freddie rubbed his hands together trying to ignore the way his heart was high-fiving his chest. “Now, how about I treat us to a coffee and a bar of chocolate from the machine.”

  He stood up and unzipped the small pocket on the back of his shorts and pulled out some coins.

  “What chocolate would you like?”

  “I’ll get it,” Eliza protested, starting to stand up. “I just need to grab my purse from my locker.”

  Freddie pressed down on her shoulder, his fingertips giving her a gentle squeeze. “No, my treat for your first day, so tell me what you’d like, otherwise I might get you a health bar and no one wants to eat that shit.”

  Giggling, Eliza tilted her head to one side to consider his offer.

  “Crunchie, please.”

  “Okay a Crunchie and a white coffee, no sugar coming up.”

  “How did you know I didn’t take sugar? Eliza asked.

  Freddie’s eyes widened as he thought about his response. The honest answer was because he’d made her a coffee about a year ago. They’d gone to the same party and both found themselves in the kitchen at six in the morning, unable to sleep amongst the rest of the drunk bodies on the floor, and he never forgot anything about Eliza Hughes, not one thing. He knew that, on days when she seemed sad, she wore a pair of maroon coloured Dr Marten boots, but generally, because she was always happy, she wore bright pink ones. He also knew that when her hair was up in a messy bun her neck was long and slim like that of a ballet dancer and he also knew that despite having a famous family, including all the extended members, she was the most down to earth, sweetest person he’d ever met. However, Freddie knew to say all those things would probably scare the shit out of her, making her think he was some sort of stalker and he was definitely no Joe Goldberg.