The Necklace - The Dusky Club, June 1962 by Linda S Rice (best ebook pdf reader android .txt) 📖

and close your eyes,” she instructed Susan.

Susan’s eyes suddenly became as big as saucers.

“What’s going to happen?” she asked, nervously.

“You will leave here in a few minutes. You will feel nothing. When you open your eyes, you will be in the Dusky Club in Brighton, England. It will be June 1962. The person you so wish to meet will be at a microphone singing. You will be sitting on a stool next to a wall near the front of the club. In your purse will be a key to a room in a nearby hotel, where you will be staying. You will have money in your purse, and you will be dressed in the fashion of the day. You will have spare clothes in your room for the week. That is all…the rest will be up to you.”

Susan looked at Lynn, beginning to feel a little frightened, but the wine had muddled her brain a bit, and she just smiled.

“Okay, sure, let’s go for it,” she said from her prone position on the bed.

“Just a few more things,” said Mika. “Your friend here will be able to observe you on her mobile phone. Marta will install an App on it. If she feels the desire or the need to be with you, she can come to this cabin, and we will transport her back.

If she goes, however, she must return at the same time as you. It is now near midnight on Friday. You will return next Friday precisely at midnight unless Lynn goes to bring you back sooner or unless you are in danger. If she goes back and wishes you to return sooner than next Friday, you must agree. She will be able to use the App on her mobile phone to transport you both back...but you must agree to it. Once she is there, you must return together. And, as I said, should a situation occur where you are in danger, you will return immediately.”

“And,” added Marta, “When you return, all that happened to you in the past will become a dim memory to you. The same will be the case for those you meet or spend time with in the past. You must know this.”

Both Lynn and Susan looked at the clock next to the bed.

It was one minute before midnight. Mika began chanting and waving the bag of herbs over Susan’s prone form.

Susan’s body began to glow and become almost transparent.

“Oh my God, no Suz, what’s happening to you?! No, no...No! Wait!” Lynn screamed as she looked at the clock, seeing the digital numbers as they registered midnight.

Suddenly, without further warning, Susan burst into particles of light like sparkling confetti and floated away up toward the ceiling and out from the sides of the bed.

Lynn fainted.

 

Chapter Three

In the Dusky Club

The first thing Susan noticed was the over-powering and choking smell of cigarette smoke. Her eyes were almost blinded by it as it hung like a fog throughout the club. She hastily put her hand up over her nose and mouth.

“Something wrong, Luv?” asked a scruffy looking young man who had sidled up to the table where she was sitting. He was wearing a leather jacket and pants and had a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.

She drew back and shook her head.

“Why no, I’m fine,” she responded. “Just a little smoky in here, that’s all.”

“Always smoky in here, Luv,” he said, moving his hand up to take a drag on the cigarette, then tilting his head back to blow it up into the air.

“Oh, that’s just fabulous,” she remarked under her breath. “I never considered that.”

“Eh?” her companion said.

“Nothing.”

“Not from here, are you?”

“No. America, actually.”

“Thought so. Accent, you know.”

“Yeah, well…I can’t help that. You’re the one with the accent from my point of view,” she responded.

He smiled. “Cheeky one, ain’t you? Where did you come from, by the by? When I looked over here a minute ago, I swore Judy was sitting here, and now you are.”

Susan blinked at him. “Ummm…Actually, I’ve been here for about a half-hour. You must be mistaken.”

“Too much ale, perhaps,” he responded, running his eyes over her from head to toe. “Want to join me in an ale? On me, of course.”

“Er, no thanks. I probably won’t stay too much longer.” She thought fast. “The bus I took to get here was late, and I’m kind of tired after the airplane flight and all. Why don’t you go find Judy; she must be around here somewhere.”

“Right then; maybe I’ll see you later.” He winked at her and walked away.

Suddenly, she froze and squeezed her eyes shut. What had happened? Where was she? She must be on the cruise ship, probably in the piano bar, the usual hangout for her and Lynn. But, the smoke...“They don’t smoke this much in the piano bar on the cruise ship!” she thought. “And that scruffy-looking guy with the accent doesn’t look like he belongs on a cruise ship.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked around the room.

Dingy. Smoky. Smelled like stale beer. The walls appeared to be made of brick or stone or a combination of both. They looked dank and dark, kind of like a dungeon. She didn’t see any windows at all in the room. There were tall tables with stools sitting up against the walls. She was at one of them. Smaller tables and chairs were scattered in-between. They were all full of people, mostly girls.

She looked down at her lap and then her chest and arms to see what she was wearing. Holy crap! It looked like something out of the fifties...something like June Cleaver would wear on the old t.v. show, “Leave It to Beaver.” It was a light pink, cotton seersucker dress with a defined, belted waist and a scoop neckline. It had short sleeves with small bows at the ends. On her feet were dainty little sandals in a color to match the dress. Oh, my God! She wondered what her hair looked like or if she had make-up on with silly pink lipstick to match the dress or a headband or bows in her hair. It would have made her laugh if she hadn’t been so appalled.

She pulled her purse onto her lap and fished around for a compact or something that had a mirror in it. Impatiently, she pushed aside a pair of short, white gloves. Gloves!? What in the hell were gloves doing in her purse? When would she wear gloves here? Ah! There was a compact at the bottom of the purse. She took it out. Tentatively, she flipped it open and looked at herself. Thank goodness; no makeup or pink lipstick! She snapped it shut and tossed it back in the purse. She reached up and touched her hair. Thank goodness, no bows, headbands, or hairspray. She wiggled her toes and looked down at them. Yes, they were her toes all right. She looked at her hands; yes, they were definitely her hands, and thank God, no pink nail polish to match the dorky dress.

Then she felt a shudder go through her and looked toward the front of the room...

And there he was.

Live and in person.

Scruffy, with greasy hair and sweating under the lights.

In leather and a ragged black t-shirt?

Really?

This was James?!?

Derek was singing.

“Life is treating me saaaaad...agony...

I’m the type of bloke, who always used to joke...

Now life is treating me saaaaad…agony...

She’s run away for sure; she even slammed the door...

It’s certainly a drag…agony...”

Her eyes became giant orbs on her face as her mouth formed into an “O.” James was so close! Only about fifteen feet away from her, standing between Ian and Derek.

As the song ended, James wasn’t looking her way, but Ian was. She saw him nudge James, who then turned his head to look in her direction, squinting his eyes in the bright lights above the stage area to get a better look through all the smoke.

“New girl in town to check out,” she thought, shivering and pressing her back into the wall behind her, thinking to make herself smaller...or maybe even invisible. The roughness of the bricks and stone pressed into the back of her dress. The wall felt cold and somewhat damp.

“Either that or I stand out like some kind of quirky oddball in this dress. Geez...”

Derek sat down on a stool in front of the microphone, guitar resting on his knees. He also had the greasy hair look and was wearing leather, as they all were.

“One last song before a break,” he said. “This one’s called “I Love My Baby,” and he began singing.

“Well, I love my baby, all day long...

She’s sweet to me...

Oh, yes, she is...”

Susan was starting to feel a bit faint, thinking James might look over at her and their eyes might connect at any second when there was a tap on her shoulder.

“Whatcha drinkin’, dearie?” said a small girl with curly red hair and a dimple in her cheek. She was looking Susan up and down as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Susan squirmed on the bar stool. “Oh!” was all she could say, thinking this must be a waitress.

“Need to have a drink if you’re sittin’ at a table, ya know,” she said.

“Um,” Susan replied. “What’s good to drink here? I haven’t been here before.”

“On holiday then? American?”

Susan nodded, feeling as if James and Ian were now looking at the oddly dressed “new bird,” their eyes boring into the back of her head.

“I’m Susan,” she said, extending her hand. “From California...the southern part...So if I need to have a drink, can you just bring me something like a glass of chardonnay?”

The redhead raised her eyebrows. “Shar...doe...what?” she asked.

“Oh, um...wine...You know, it’s a white wine.”

“We got some port, stout, ale, small beer, and I think Frank might have some kind of wine in an old dusty bottle under the bar, but we don’t get much call for wine here, ya know.”

Susan stared at her dumbly.

“I’m Sandra, by the way,” said the redhead, feeling sorry for her. “You seem a little lost. Let me just get you a small beer, and if you don’t like it, I’ll see if that old bottle of wine is still under the bar...By the way, two of the guys in the band are giving you the look-over, if you haven’t noticed. I’ll be back in a bit.”

As Sandra sauntered off, she thought that this American girl sure was dressed funny. Add a pair of gloves and a hat, and she’d be ready to go to church. She stuck out like a sore thumb. No wonder the boys in the band and some of the other guys in the club were all gawking at her. She wondered if Susan noticed.

Susan turned her head back toward the stage area.

Ian and James were on their guitars, Ian playing a solo tune, with James on bass. They were both looking at Derek.

Derek was singing.

“Well, I love my baby, all night long,

She’s a sweet treat to me. Oh yeah, she is...

Well, she’s my honey because she knows I’m a needin’ man…

Day and night…night and day…

I’m a needin’ man…

Oh yeah, I am…”

James looked towards her as the song finished, but then girls on the other side of the room started yelling, “One more! One more!!”

James turned to look at them. Derek looked at Ian and said into the microphone. “Go, Ian...How about “Sigh in the Shadows?”

The girls yelled their approval, and Ian