A Coffin For Two

33

Manuel’s still-life hung, in its heavy black frame, on the wall facing our bed when we woke next morning, just after ten.

‘Well,’ said Prim, propped up on her elbows and gazing at it. ‘That was an expensive night out. Two hundred and fifty quid.’

‘Worth every peseta, all things considered. We got a free assessment of Scott’s picture thrown in.’

She nodded, acknowledging. ‘I suppose so. Should we call him and tell him he’s bought a fake?’

‘No, not yet. I think we owe it to him to find out a bit more. I think someone owes it to Ronnie Starr, too.’

‘So what’s next on the agenda?’

‘I thought we’d go down to Begur to see David Foy, while we’re waiting for Trevor Eames to get back from his voyage. He’s the only other person — apart from Eames — who’s seen the phoney Starr.’

‘Okay. What do we do? Call him first and make an appointment?’

I pondered that one. ‘No, let’s not. Scott gave me his address. Let’s pay him a surprise visit.’

‘Maybe we could take Davidoff.’

‘I think not. We don’t want to terrify the man.’ I rolled over on to my front and tweaked her right nipple. ‘Did you enjoy yourself last night, then? Being courted and all?’

She smiled down at me. ‘Is that what he was doing? I’m flattered.’

‘As if you didn’t know.’

‘Well…’ she said, almost defensively. ‘Davidoff’s wonderful. I don’t care what age he is …’

‘Seventy-five at least, from what he said about the Civil War.’

‘… I’ve never met anyone like him. It’d be great to think that you’ll be like him when you’re old. But you won’t. You’ll have two point four children and a quota of grandchildren. You’ll be straightforward and funny, like your dad, but you won’t be dark and mysterious.’

I felt offended. ‘No, and I won’t be chasing after young women either.’

‘That could be a pity. You know what they say about old fiddles!’

I couldn’t resist it, I reached for her. ‘Sure, but you can play a young one more often!’