Den of Stars. Christopher Byford

you?’

       The owner of the Morning Star removed his sunglasses and smiled his best. ‘Not just me,’ he said. The woman beside him was adamant to shield herself from attention. Finally Misu raised her head, removed the hat, and braced herself for the worst.

       Hands covered mouths. In the back, some began to sob.

       Katerina staggered out from between the congregation, silent, and stood before Misu whilst examining her face. Suddenly she grabbed her old manager and embraced her tightly, letting some tears fall.

       ‘Your hair looks nice,’ Katerina said, muffled by Misu’s coat.

       In reply the woman choked a thanks, reciprocating the gesture.

      * * *

       This moment was suddenly shattered, as was the ashtray that had been launched at the wall nearest to the arrivals. It burst into pieces, dotting the ground with chunks of glass. Misu shrieked as it exploded. Franco stood firmly in his place, unflinching.

       ‘That was uncalled for,’ he firmly stated to the culprit.

       Corinne, situated at the bar, lowered her arm, furious and quite disgusted at the pair.

       ‘Am I hearing things or does the ghost before me actually have a line that defines when things are inappropriate? Because that would be ridiculous to the point of downright tragic,’ she seethed, all a fluster. This remarkable revelation was welcome – of course it was, as every day since the tragedy she had thought of those who were killed – but it wasn’t a tragedy now. It was a lie. A horrid two-year lie made at the expense of those who loved them. Jacques was right: the girls had all been used.

       ‘I told you …’ Misu whined under her breath to him.

       ‘It’s a pleasure to see you too, Corinne. Dramatic as always but still, a pleasure.’

       ‘I wish I could say the same.’ She glared, suppressing the desire to insult him further. Her gaze now fell to Misu who shuddered at the realization.

       ‘It’s your turn to say something,’ Franco whispered beside her.

       Misu elevated her hand and weakly smiled. Corinne rolled her eyes in response.

       ‘Try actual words,’ Franco insisted. ‘It might help.’

       Corinne waited patiently for the gesture to be made.

       As Misu attempted to quell Corinne’s understandable outrage, Franco was mobbed by the rest and many tears were shed at the sheer relief of both he and Misu being among the living. They all gathered around to hear the dramatic tale of how the pair survived though the latter months were only touched upon.

       Corinne eventually rejoined the group, stony-faced but willing to hear them out, much to Misu’s considerable relief. When Kitty had come around, Colette stood beside her, fanning her with a dishcloth. Whilst everybody came to terms with what had transpired, the girls insisted that they both tried the house special – a pecan pie that Kitty proclaimed was the best ever concocted. She wasn’t wrong.

       ‘This is all yours is it?’ Franco asked, waving his fork around before succumbing to another bite of the dessert.

       ‘The best place for eats you’ll ever find in Windberg. Fine décor. Spellbinding staff. Amazing food. Best in the city according to some of the papers,’ Kitty proudly stated, her chef whites impeccably crisp despite the earlier mishap.

       ‘I can’t knock that,’ Misu agreed, polishing her portion off and sucking upon the fork until clean. ‘Something like this must be a dream come true for you.’

       Her words tapered off as she and Franco glanced at one another.

       ‘I take it you two have been keeping a low profile.’

       ‘Something like that. We’ve been in Eifera mostly, waiting for things to cool down.’

       ‘Doing what?’

       ‘Well …’

       Corinne, who leant over the back of a chair at the rear, found it all painfully apparent, especially for someone with their ear to the ground as much as her.

       ‘You don’t even have to answer that. The Morning Star is yours, right?’

       ‘Is it that obvious?’ Franco laughed, partially from nerves, curious considering the company.

       ‘A ballsy loco like that rolls in – of course people are going to talk about it. It’s all they were discussing at market when I was collecting the meats. A train like that is only suitable for transporting royalty – or one of your shows.’ She played with the gold rings on her fingers, turning them this way and that. ‘And I sure don’t see a crown on either of your heads. You using a second chance to get up to your old tricks, Franco?’

       ‘No tricks, I promise you.’

       ‘This isn’t a catch-up is it?’ Corinne stated with arms tightly folded.

       ‘I don’t get what you mean.’ Kitty was quite dumbfounded at the accusation. ‘What are you on about?’

       Franco leant back. That old cocksure smile he saved for special occasions used to fill Corinne with dread as it was an introduction to something genius, or something foolish being shared. He didn’t even need to speak. She was on to him.

       ‘Oh hell.’ Corinne strangled an exhausted, disbelieving chuckle. ‘This is a recruitment drive, isn’t it? You want us back, don’t you?’

       ‘Franco is planning on creating a new venture.’ Misu attempted to field the question but Colette interrupted.

       ‘You’re doing the same thing as before?’

       ‘Not exactly.’ He nudged Misu beside him who suppressed a smile of her own. ‘Our goal will still be entertainment, only … bigger. Better.’

       ‘There would be new contacts, the terms flexible and open to discussion for both the individual and the group.’

       ‘And what would your role be in all this, Misu?’ Corinne asked, getting directly to the point.

       ‘I’ll be fulfilling the same role. Everybody who accepts the offer would be reporting to me directly. I’ll manage all the day-to-day running, just like on the Gambler’s Den.

       Kitty scrunched her face up to its fullest extent. It was an expression seen on two occasions before. The first was when she thought about what to name the restaurant and spent far too long obsessing over it. The second was when she mixed up the peppers in a dish and didn’t expect her soup to almost melt her tongue to nothing.

       ‘I’ve got a question. If you’re doing the same thing, won’t people notice the similarities to the Den and start asking questions of a why-aren’t-you-dead nature?’

       That old sparkle danced across Franco’s face, a tell-tale giveaway as if he knew a secret that was not to be shared.

       ‘I promise you, what the Morning Star will be providing, nobody will be able to make that comparison. The Den was just a prelude to what people are about to witness. We were spoken about before. Excited rumours and so forth. But this … What we will be doing will go down in literal legend. That I can promise each and every one of you. Now you’ve asked us questions that I have entertained, so I’ve