Gallery Whispers

46

'This is nice, Andy.' Alex looked at her fiance across the dinner table, as the waiter topped up their wine glasses. 'It makes me feel a bit special again. I like it.'

The candle-light shone on his green contact lenses as he met her gaze. 'You make me feel special all the time,' he said softly, once the girl was out of earshot. 'But if this is what it takes to make it work for you, I'll go along with it.'

He smiled, ruefully. 'You know, Brian Mackie, of all people, gave it to me straight between the eyes this week; he told me I was a selfish bastard where you were concerned. However I try to twist it around, I have to accept it. He's right.

'I'm sorry if I've been suffocating you, honey. I'll give you room to breathe from now on. Promise.'

She shook her head. 'Let's not go over all that again,' she whispered across the table. 'Let's just enjoy ourselves now. It was a nice idea of yours, coming back to the place where we told Dad and Sarah we were engaged. It was an even better idea that we should come on our own this time.'

'You coming back to my place later?' he asked her, abruptly.

'Of course.'

'Good,' he grinned. 'That's the awkward bit out of the way. Now, what sort of a week have you had?'

'Work-wise, interesting as ever. Mr Laidlaw had a big instruction from an insurance company this week; they're fighting with a travel agent over who should compensate a man who was taken ill on holiday.'

'How's that?'

'The chap had a previous medical history; the insurers say they weren't told about it, and that such a material nondisclosure invalidates the policy.'

'And does it?'

'We say it does, and in the absence of proof from the travel agent that he did make the full circumstances known to our client, that's what the Court will say as well. The other party's case is that they made disclosure orally, to an employee of the insurer. No one's arguing about whether such a conversation took place, it did. The dispute is over what was said.'

'Meantime what happens to the guy?'

Alex shrugged. 'He waits, I'm afraid.'

'That's a bit rough.'

'Maybe, but it's not our fault.'

'Of course it is,' Andy insisted. 'It's your client who's refusing to pay the guy. Bloody insurance companies: they take the money then look for ways to weasel out of meeting their obligation, and firms like yours help them.'

'What should they do then?' she shot back at him.

'Pay the client then sue the travel agent over the alleged nondisclosure.

It'd make no difference to you and Laidlaw. You'd still get your fees. I tell you this; if the victim in this case wants to make a fraud complaint against your client, I'll investigate it.'

'Keep your voice down!' she hissed. 'I.eyou this, Andy; it's the last time I'll discuss my work with you. Christ, I thought you just resented my job. I was wrong; you've got a down on my whole bloody profession.'

'Change the subject; change the subject!' he said. 'I'm sorry; let's not ruin the evening.'

They finished their meal in virtual silence, Alex's outrage still simmering quietly. 'Okay,' Andy ventured gently, as their coffee cooled in front of them. 'Let's start again. Forget work. Tell me about your day.'

The start of a smile came back to her face. 'Well,' she began, 'this is the second restaurant I've been in today. I had a salad up at the West End with Pops and Sarah, my brothers and the Mcllhenney children, after Pops recruited me as a baby-minder while he went off to sort someone out.'

She explained the events of Skinner's extra-curricular morning, and her own fleeting involvement in it.

Andy was frowning at her by the time she finished. 'That's incredible,' he said, the frown deepening into a glare.

'What? Taking Jazz with him? Old established practice as far as he's concerned. I remember when I was six, we sat outside a bookie's for three hours one weekend, just checking on who was going in there. Pops let me take the photographs.'

Martin shook his head. 'Not that. What's incredible is the fact that he just swanned into Brian's investigation. If anyone did that to him, he'd paper the walls with them.'

Alex stood up, abruptly and threw her napkin on the table. 'Right, that's it,' she snapped, no longer caring who heard her. 'This is obviously "Knock the Skinners" night. Well, not any more, it ain't.

You can pay the bill; I'll get a taxi — back to my place.

'Give me a week or two to myself, Andy. I don't think I can handle this special treatment too often.' He was still staring as the double doors swung shut behind her with a bang which echoed round the restaurant.