Alarm Call

Chapter 18

The phone rang. I hoped it would stop, but it didn’t, just kept on ringing and ringing until I had swum out of my confused dream about Prim, Spain, and people who were dead. I picked it up, and mumbled a ‘Yes?’ into the receiver.

‘Mr Blackstone, this is the night clerk. I have a call for you.’

I blinked myself awake, and switched on the light. I was aware of Prim in the twin bed, propping herself up on an elbow, looking at me.

I’d been expecting Audrey, but it was Susie. ‘Did I waken you?’ she asked, solicitously.

‘Six-hour time difference, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘Poor love.’ She sounded sorry for me. ‘You’re booked on a Northwest flight tomorrow morning, direct to Vancouver from Minneapolis, departure nine twenty-seven. You’re in the Granville Island Hotel; the travel agent said it’s small but very nice.’

‘That’s good, thanks, love.’

‘Is everything going well?’

‘Reasonably. We’ve got help.’ I told her about Wallinger’s brother.

‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘How’s Prim bearing up?’

‘She won’t be happy till she’s got Tom back, but she’s doing okay.’

‘That’s good.’ She paused. ‘I’ll tell you what.’ Suddenly she was yelling. ‘Just you put her on the phone and she can tell me herself!’

Oh, shit!

‘Susie,’ I started.

‘You bastard! And I was stupid enough to insist that she went with you!’

‘It’s okay!’ I exclaimed. ‘Honestly, it’s okay. There’s nothing going on. They made a balls of the booking, that’s all.’ There are very few occasions on which economy with the truth can be justified, but I felt that I had happened upon one of them. ‘It’s a bloody great suite,’ I protested. ‘It’s all they had left, but it’s about the size of our house. Honest.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you’re not sleeping with her?’

‘No, I’m promising you, okay?’

‘Can I believe that?’ she asked, with just a little more scorn, scepticism, call it what you like, than I was able to take.

It was the middle of the night. I was tired. I was upset. I was right in the zone for saying something really stupid. ‘What?’ I barked into the phone. ‘On the basis of past performance, do you mean?’

I hit way too close to home. ‘You bastard!’ she yelled, once, then again in case I hadn’t caught it the first couple of times. The line went dead, and I was left staring pointlessly at the handset, until finally I slammed it back into the cradle.

‘Are you in trouble?’ Prim asked.

‘No, my dear. We are in trouble; both of us.’

‘Oh, Oz, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to fix it? Should I call her?’

‘God, no.’ I picked up the phone again and called the night clerk. ‘I want you to think very carefully,’ I told him. ‘When that call came in for me, and the caller asked for me, what were the exact words you used: no approximations, the exact words?’

He sounded unflustered. ‘Yes, sir. I said, “Hold on, please, madam, while I put you through to their room.” That’s exactly what I said, word for word. I hope that was in order.’

I’ve rarely felt such anger, but I resisted the temptation to roar my response. Instead I spoke slowly and quietly. ‘You were given no special instructions?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Okay, here are some special instructions now. I want you to get in touch with the duty manager who checked us in. I mean get in touch with him at once; waken him, like I was wakened. I want you to tell him exactly what’s happened, word for word. Then I want you to give him a message from me. Tell him that I am not a vindictive man, and I have never in my life caused anyone to lose his job. However, he should know this: once I’ve spoken to the general manager, he will be fucking history here. Did you get that?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, do it, please. Once you have, book me. . us. . an alarm call for seven, and have a car waiting to take us to MSP International at eight.’

‘Very good, Mr Blackstone.’

‘One other thing: when I check out, I want the general manager there, in person, so I can make my feelings clear to him.’

I hung up and turned back to Prim. Her brown eyes were wide open. ‘It’s that bad?’ she asked.

‘It’s that bad.’ I held up the duvet on my bed, feeling the Oz Blackstone that used to be take complete control. ‘Do you want to come over? If I’m going to be hung for it, we might as well do the crime.’

‘You’d hate us both in the morning,’ she replied. ‘Put out the light, and try to sleep.’

I did. I tried. I couldn’t.