Dead at First Sight

16 Wednesday 26 September

‘So, Suzy Driver, how exactly did you check on me?’ Toby Seward, amused and concerned at the same time, asked. He had put his phone on speaker so that he could carry on with his cooking.

Seated on the sofa in the living room of her large, detached Victorian villa in Hove’s Somerhill Avenue, with a view across the street to St Ann’s Well Gardens, with its tennis courts and well-tended gardens, Suzy stroked her Yorkshire terrier, Buster, curled up beside her, and stirred her coffee before replying. ‘Well, it wasn’t too difficult — with the help of a friend of mine’s son who’s a bit of a geek. You’ll find you have a lot of admirers — more than admirers, actually, women, including myself, who are besotted with you and planning to spend the rest of their lives with you.’

‘Lucky me!’

‘Lucky you — not!’ she retorted. ‘Do you remember our Skype conversation?’

‘Our what?’

‘I thought as much, it wasn’t you. We had a Skype conversation about ten days ago — just before I went on holiday.’

‘No way.’

‘On Saturday, September 15th. You — or rather Norbert Petersen — declared your undying love for me.’

‘On Saturday, September 15th, my husband and I were sailing in the Aegean, with no internet.’

‘That’s what you think!’ she said, good-humouredly. ‘But I know different. You told me how much you liked my eyes, my hair, my face. You told me you were in Bahrain on business and could not wait to come to England to sweep me up in your arms. You actually got quite fruity, Dr Petersen — or is it Mr Griffiths?’

‘Dr Petersen?’

‘You are a geologist, right?’

‘Hey, wind back. I’m a geologist?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m not a geologist, I don’t know the first thing about it. I’m a motivational speaker. I do seminars for businesses.’

‘Well, you say that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Would you like to see the conversation? I recorded it on video. Shall I send it to you?’

‘I’d very much like to see it.’

‘It’s a big file, I’ll have to use file transfer.’

‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’

‘I think you’ll find it interesting!’

‘Yuck!’ he shouted.

‘Pardon?’

‘Sorry,’ he replied. ‘I just cracked a bit of lobster and got juice squirted over my face.’

‘That’s a lot classier than egg all over your face!’

‘I’m feeling the latter.’

‘Wipe it off, all your other lovers wouldn’t be impressed. They haven’t handed over their life savings to a man with lobster juice running down his chin.’