Lori Leaves (Chapter One draft)

Hello everyone! I'm currently planning to rework and reorganize the Gublenn Records storyline.
Note that Ruby's name has been changed to Lori for the time being! We'll see if I like it)

At the beginning of January, in the late evening, Cole Gublenn sat at the mahogany desk in his study with the shell of his navy blue telephone pressed against his ear. In front of him he had two calendars splayed, one to be hung on the wall and another that was the size of a pocket notebook.

Cole raised his cigarette and pressed it to his lips, which made the bristles from his thick mustache prickle against his finger. Then, Cole straightened the small white business card below him that read; Small talk with Sully. Below that was the number to the studio that hosted the talk show. After five rings with no answer, Cole glanced at his watch and furrowed his brows.

“Hello, this is Patty for Small Talk with Sully, how can I assist you?” Spoke the raspy voice of an American woman.

“Ah, good afternoon,” Cole said. The window outside was black. “This is Cole Gublenn with Gublenn records, I’d be more than interested in discussing a time slot for Jareth on the show this upcoming February.”

“Okay,” she replied, and Cole heard the tap of typewriter keys. “Can I place you on hold?” she asked.

“Certainly,” Cole said.

The line went silent. Cole stood from his chair and stepped away from his desk to the window with his hand on his hip. The coiled line of the telephone cord stretched to follow him. He stared past his reflection in the window out into the side garden of the estate. London was wet in January, and rain drops tapped against the window and made the pathway stones slick.

Cole raised his cigarette to his lips.

There was a thud upstairs somewhere in the home. From which of Cole’s children it was from, he hadn’t any idea. Then, a door opened, then footsteps, then Cole could hear his oldest daughter’s voice coming down the stairs. 

He checked his watch- but did not read the time- and his mustache began to bristle.

“Lori!” He called to his wife.

There was no reply. Cole shook his head and threw one arm up, then let it drop against his side.

“Hey there Cole,” came the warm gruffy voice of Sullivan Manfredi, who hosted the show.

“Sullivan, yes hello,” Cole replied. “Have you any openings for Jareth in February? We’ll be in New York from the fourteenth to the twentieth.”

“Well hang on, let me ask you how you are first.”

“Quite well,” Cole replied, then cleared his throat.

“Good. How’s family?”

“Splendid, and yours are well?”

“What family?” Sully asked, then burst out in a deep laughter with a wheeze to it.

Cole moved the shell away from his ear, but chuckled into the cup of the telephone.

“Haha, yes, precisely,” Cole said.

“How about you bring Jareth for the seven o’clock show on the fifteenth?”

Cole crossed the room to his desk where his calendars lay open. He picked up his pen and sat at the edge of his desk to study the schedule. Nearly every single day of January had at least one event on it. During the week that Jareth would be in New York, he would have four to five events each day.

“That’d be lovely. I’ve got him doing the Lincoln radio at three, he’ll manage to make it around 5:30 if we’re lucky.”

Cole didn’t hear what Sullivan said, because his wife knocked on the open door to his office. Cole looked up.

Lori stood in the doorway, not in her nightgown, but in women’s slacks and a long overcoat with pearl buttons. She held her avocado green suitcase in one hand.

Cole raised his hand with his finger up, then looked back to his schedule.

“Say that again?” he asked.

“I said show up at six if you want.” Sullivan said, then began to laugh again.

“Right,” Cole replied. 

“Alright, you call me if you get complicated” he said.

“Of course.”

“See you around,”

The line cut, and Cole placed the phone atop its perch. He then began to write in his large calendar. When he finished, Lori’s suitcase touched the wood flooring behind him.

“Cole,” she said again.

He said nothing and moved to his notebook calendar to mimic what he wrote on the first one. When he finished, he placed the pen down and turned to her with his hands on his lips.

“I’m leaving you,” she said.

Cole’s furrowed brow raised slightly, and each corner of his stache dropped to a frown. He stared at Lori, and she stared at him. He shook his head.

“Now?” he asked.

She said nothing.

“Whatever- what are you talking about? Whatever for?”

Lori put her hands in her coat pockets and stared at Cole’s face. He placed a hand on his forehead and turned away to walk a few steps. Then he turned again.

“Have you any idea how horribly timed this is?”

“Are you serious?” She asked, and her voice dropped.

“Lori, for god sakes Jareth is preparing for a press tour, what on earth am I supposed to do without you here with the children? Do you intend for them to come with me?”

“Who gives a damn about your brother, Cole! I’m leaving you right now!” she said.

Cole’s brows furrowed and his stache bristled.

“I’m taking them with me, Cole,” she said.

“Well, where?” 

Lori didn’t reply, and she picked up her suitcase. She turned and began to walk down the hall with her heels tapping the finished wood.

Cole followed, his business shoes much louder.

“Lori! Hang on- you can’t just do this,” he said. 

He rounded the corner into the front room where Lori was opening the front door. Just outside a sleek car was humming with both headlights beaming out in the rain. Cole didn’t recognize it. Lori was making her way down the front steps, and Cole went to the front door to watch her.

His heart was beating heavy against the back of his eyes, and his hands shook lightly. Despite not needing glasses, he couldn't focus his eyes on her.

“Lori! Get back in the house or I swear to god I’ll phone the police!” he called. When Lori opened the trunk to put her luggage in, he reluctantly stepped out into the rain and put his palm over his wrist watch. “You’ve lost your fucking mind! Get back in the house at once!”

“I hope Jareth dies,” she said. “I really hope that Jareth gets shot, or gets ran over, and you lose everything.”

Cole stared at her for a very long time. His collared shirt began to stick to his skin.

“What the hell are you on about?” he said. 

Lori rounded to the other side of the car and opened the driver’s seat. Cole could hear Anthony, his son, wailing from the backseat.

“Everything that I do in my work is for you, Lori!” he said.

She closed the door. And as the car began to roll away, Cole could not make out his children in the back seat.

He stood, wet, with his hand hovering over his watch. After the car drove down the lot and out of the front gate, Cole walked back inside of the house to phone the police.