Paige's Club

Chapter 9. Clayton's Flight

 Although he was nervous, in no time he hurried upstairs and started packing a few clothes and a few pairs of shoes into a portable suitcase, and twelve glistening steel guns in another suitcase, then he waddled to the kitchen downstairs. He opened a cupboard where he kept glinting sharp knives, took five of them, took two sharp scissors from a small crotch on the cupboard, and got out of the kitchen, leaving the cupboard open.                                   

Sure that all electronics were off and everything was okay, he took a brief gaze around, got out, and locked the door. Having mixed feelings and holding two briefcases in both hands, he observed the environment before leaving for his car.

Once he had gotten in his car and shut the door, he kept the suitcases on the passenger's seat and started booking one of the hotels in Newington, and luckily he found a room. Exhaling, he put his phone in his suit's inner pocket, started the car engine, and drove off. From a few distances away, he turned back and was alarmed when he saw that ghastly demon standing at his home door, scowling at him and gritting her teeth but he quickly turned away, even though he was uneasy. He wasn't amazed at seeing her but the fact that she didn't attack him while he was home baffled him and he wondered what would happen next. He has to leave as soon as possible. Tomorrow must not pass. 

Somehow, fear began to haunt him again.

He slowed down the car's pace once he got to a huge magnificent building with a broad inscription fixed above the entrance door—Nelly's Lodge Newington. It was a private area so fewer people were seen. On either side of the walkway, beautiful flowers bloom all around. He got out of the car, turned around, and carried both suitcases in one hand and the briefcase in the other hand and waddled through the walkway.

In a few minutes, he got inside the cool, neat, and beautiful lodging, and walked amid people moving to and fro to the reception desk where he was issued a receipt. Then he placed a meal order and got into an elevator, pressed button two, and the doors slid shut. In a few seconds, the doors slid open, and he got out while other people entered. Walking on the shimmering neat floor with his luggage, passing various doors he reached his room, slipped his card into an opening below the doorknob, and was about to go in when he noticed a lady in black pants and a black cardigan approaching him. Her head was covered with the cardigan's cap so he could hardly see her face and she was facing downward. She approached soon but didn't come to him. Rather, she got to a door nearby him, slid in her card, then looked up…

With wide eyes, Clayton almost withered from shock while his heartbeat accelerated instantly to a violent whack against his chest and hurting upon whom he saw. The luggage fell off his trembling hands as he gasped with astonishment. 

There she stood, gritting her teeth while profuse blood was gushing out of her eye sockets and sweeping down her cheeks like tears.

What! She is his neighbor! How did she get here?!

Terrified, Clayton let out a shout…

"Are you okay?" A lady asked softly.

Upon hearing the voice, he opened his eyes and still found the lady looking up at him, then he noticed people popping their heads out of their doors, casting curious stares at him. "I'm so sorry," He said. " I didn't mean to disturb you. Then he lowered his gaze upon the pretty lady in front of him. He was amazed. Could it be an imagination? The lady wasn't who he feared she was. She was stunning and was gazing at him with green eyes…

Green eyes?

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She asked. "And why the hell did you yell like I am some paranormal person? You frightened me!"

"I'm so sorry…" He muttered, casting a speculating gaze at her.

She gazed at him briefly and wanted to go into her room…

"Hey," He said. "Is that your room?"

"Fuck your ass!" She said and got in her room, leaving Clayton wondering.

****

Clayton didn't give a damn about how gorgeous and neat the room was. He kept the briefcases on the big well-dressed bed with three soft pillows and sat on the bed, his mind still flooded with that weird scenario. 

Trying hard to wave the memory off, he quickly pulled out his phone from his suit's inner pocket and opened the Omio app so that he could book a flight at Adolfo Suárez Madrid –Barajas Airport, Spain. Then he researched how he could get to Heathrow Airport, British Airway from Newington, and he figured out that it would take 1 hour by car to Heathrow airport. He was going to reside in Alicante, so he began to search for a home to rent and found Santa Lucia, went through the payment details, then sent a message to the host, Elena R. Soon after, he booked a flight at Heathrow Airport to Madrid, Spain…

A bang at the door intruded on his research. He opened the door, got his meal from a hostess, dropped the tray on a long wooden table close by, and got back to research.

In 1 hour, Elena R replied to him, indicating he'd successfully booked Santa Lucia at Alicante.

Within two days, he figured out the timing of which every trip took, so he successfully booked a flight from Heathrow Airport to Madrid, then to Alicante.

*★*

Later at dusk, Clayton wore green pants upon a green hoodie since it was cold outside. Covering his shoulder-length spiky hair in the hoodie's cap, he got out of his room for the elegant booming bar and ordered a Whisky Sour. 

Sitting single, he was watching how people relished themselves, discussing, while others moved to and fro, and then Lucinda's memory slipped into his mind.

Oh, Lucinda.

How would she feel when she discovers that he's relocated to Spain? And what will he say when she asks why? 

Overwhelmed, he heaved a sigh of distress and tried to wave it off and concluded to not let her know till he left.

In a few seconds, a waitress brought him the Whisky Sour in a rock glass with a straw popping out.

It was hard though because he was feeling weird about this journey. So weird. He doesn't even know anyone over there, much less speak Spanish. Gosh! And he was still in shock.

He sipped the drink, still obsessed. Then he sighed and rubbed his forehead in confusion.

He'd already booked the flights and Santa Lucia, so he must go. For safety, he hoped. And he is leaving tomorrow.

***

The following day…

Clayton was done preparing and had carried his luggage to his car. 

In exactly one hour, he arrived at Heathrow Airport, British Airlines. And luckily he met the flight he'd booked. In 10 minutes, the flight took off.

In exactly 2 hours and 25 minutes, he landed at Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport, and Clayton felt like his head was in the cloud. Spain was completely different and magnificent. It appeared he was in two different worlds and his uneasiness accelerated while his heart thumped gingerly against his chest.

Holy shit! What has he just done?

****