Skinner’s round

Thirty

‘Honey, you are wonderful! Imagine swinging an invite to the tournament dinner for me too!

And finding us a baby-sitter, into the bargain! Ooh, come here!'

She pulled him to her, ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him; a long squashy kiss of sheer delight.

Bob frowned, to keep his confusion from her. `So Susan Kinture called you,' he said, in what he hoped was a knowing ' tone.

Sarah squeezed him again. 'Yup. She told me about Highfield inviting you to the dinner, and you saying that given the short notice you'd only come if you could bring your wife, and then about you asking her if she could fix us up with a short-notice baby-sitter.'

He smiled, relaxing. 'She's quite a woman, that Susan. You're happy about the sitter?'

Oh yes, Susan told me all about her. She's working as a maid at Bracklands during the summer, living in. With all the house guests at the dinner tonight, she's surplus to requirements. I said you'd pay her thirty pounds.'

His jaw dropped. 'That's a bloody good hourly rate. Did you say we'd lay on a taxi too?'

Of course I did. But she's got her own car.'

`Thank Christ for that!' he whispered, through clenched teeth. Then aloud, 'OK, it's six o'clock now, we'd better get cracking.'

Together they bathed the rumbustious Jazz, sticking to their vow that bathtime should be a joint exercise whenever possible. The baby seemed to fill more of the plastic basin with every day. 'It's soon going to be easier to get in the bath ourselves and take him with us,' said Bob.

I have done before now, on the odd occasion you've been away.' She grinned. 'I think it might be a bit tight for three, though.' She lifted the child from the tub, still kicking and wriggling, and wrapped him in a towel. 'I'll take him to the nursery to dry him off and package him up. Meantime, you can get into the shower.'

`Yes, ma'am.' Bob gave a mock salute and wandered into their bedroom unbuttoning his shirt.

He enjoyed a long, leisurely shower in the en-suite bathroom, easing his tightening muscles in the pulsing of the strong jets, and kneading the Paul Mitchell shampoo through his thick, greying mane.

A momentary dip in the air temperature told him that the cubicle door had been opened, even though his eyes were squeezed shut. Then Sarah's body moulded itself against his, and they opened with a start. She reached up and drew his mouth to hers. She kissed him, in earnest this time, not in fun, and he felt her salty tongue in his mouth, flicking, probing. Her fingers wound through his wet chest hair then down, down, until he felt himself throbbing as she held him, there in the pulsing water of the shower. He lifted her up, effortlessly, with his massive strength, bracing her back against the shower's tiled wall, and entered her unerringly. She gasped and shuddered, gripping his hips with the inside of her strong thighs and binding her legs together behind him. He moved inside her barely at all, clenching muscles rather than thrusting, but it was enough to send her into a writhing frenzy. Her hair whipped against his face as she shook her head from side to side, crying out aloud. And at last he felt the tremors of impending orgasm; in his legs at first, then rushing up through his entire body as he pushed himself as deep inside her as he would go, drawing one last hoarse shout of pleasure from her, in unison with his own.

They stood there in that position as they recovered, kissing and nuzzling, breathing heavily together, wearing the secret smiles of total intimacy. Eventually he raised her from him, then lowered her carefully, supporting her until he was sure that she would not slip on the cubicle floor. He kissed her once more, then took a foaming sponge and began to rub her body, as she smoothed soap over him. When they were finished he twisted the wheel of the shower control, stopping the flow, and held the door open as she stepped out. She turned and looked up at him, something in her eyes, one of those perfectly timed punchlines, waiting to come out. 'And I only came in to tell you that Brian Mackie phoned earlier!' she said. He laughed out loud and threw a big, pink bath towel over her. 'Just as well I had water in my ears, then, and couldn't hear you!'

They dried off together, filling the small bathroom, and went back together naked into the bedroom. They began to dress, then Bob paused and touched her gently on the shoulder.

'Hey, honey.' It was almost a whisper.

She looked round, her eyes still soft from her climax. `What?'

I'm sorry I was so daft earlier on. About going back to work. You're not a plant to be kept in a greenhouse, or a nanny in a nursery.'

She reached up and touched his cheek, gently. 'It's OK. I understand. Maybe even better than you do.'

`How d'you mean?'

She looked at him, hesitating for a second. 'Well, I think it's that tape. It's hearing Myra's voice again, after all these years. It's stirred up all sorts of things in your mind. Most of all, it's reminded you that Myra was a working mother, and that she was coming home from school when she was killed. And something in you, way below the surface is saying, "Don't take that chance, that lightning could strike twice."

`But it won't, honey, it won't.'

He looked at her with complete and utter love. He opened his mouth, but could find no words. Instead he simply drew her to him and kissed her. After a few seconds, she put her hands on his chest, and drew back, smiling. 'Enough, Skinner! We got places to go, people to meet.' He nodded and picked up a clean shirt.

Oh, by the way,' she said. 'I really meant it when I said that Brian had called. It was around five. He asked if you could get in touch, when you've a minute.'

He pulled the shirt over his head and reached for his tie. OK. I'll get it over with now, while you're feeding Number One through there. I can hear him calling for supper.' He sat on the bed, picked up the telephone and dialled Mackie's mobile number.

`Hi Brian. ACC here. You called earlier.'

`Yes sir, thanks for getting back. I thought you'd want to hear this. There are two developments. First, we've discovered that Richard Andrews checked out of his hotel at last week's tournament on the Saturday… the day before it finished. We're looking all over the Edinburgh area to see if he's checked in somewhere else, but so far there's nothing.'

`Mmm,' said Skinner. 'From what Darren Atkinson told me, I'd guessed the first part of that.

As for the rest, if he came up here to bump off Michael White, in revenge for crossing his boss, he isn't the sort of guy who'd leave a calling card. What's the second thing?'

`That's from South Africa, sir,' said Mackie. 'I passed on your suggestion to Durban. They rang back late this afternoon. They'd done a hotel check earlier, and had come up with the names of two Australian guys who signed in on Monday, the day before M'tebe's old man was lifted, and checked out yesterday morning. The South Africans checked the register details with Oz, and they match two guys who are regular caddies on the Australian golf circuit, often for players who are clients of Greenfields.'

Skinner whistled. 'Well, did you ever! What a swell party this could be tonight! Give me those names, quick. I might bounce them off friend Masur, just to see if I can crack that smug Aussie smile of his!'