On Honeymoon With Death

10

When we woke next morning, we didn’t give Sayeed another thought. Instead, we finally got round to climbing down into our pool and giving it a good scrubbing out. . especially the area around the drain. . then began the slow process of filling it. The painters were off that day, so we had the place to ourselves for once.

Once the bottom was completely covered, shallow end to deep, we added a load of chlorine, as advised by another English bloke we had met in JoJo’s, after we had moved on from Frank’s table.

‘Looks okay, doesn’t it?’ I said to Prim as we stood by the steps, watching the sun sparkling on the surface.

‘Mmm.’ She nodded. ‘I wonder how long it’ll be before I can look into it without imagining I can see something on the bottom.’

‘I wonder how long it’ll be before it’s warm enough to dive in to check.’

‘The end of May, without a heating system; or so that man said last night.’

‘Let’s get one, then,’ I proposed. ‘Like they say in Glasgow, toffs is careless.’

Prim was pondering this when my mobile, which was clipped to my belt, played its wee tune. I let it sound for a second or two. . I like Peer Gynt. . then answered. It was my dad.

‘What are you up to then, son?’ asked Mac the Dentist.

‘Nothing much,’ I told him. ‘We’ve cleared the last corpse out of the swimming pool, so we’ve just been filling it up.’

‘Christ, coming from you I’d almost believe that was true.’ I hadn’t shared our secret with him. ‘Weather okay? It’s bloody awful here.’

‘Aye, fine, Dad. Just the usual, you know. Shirtsleeve order, if you’re in the sunshine and out of the wind.’

‘Lucky wee bastard!’ he snorted. ‘It had better stay that way. I’ve got the flight tickets booked. We leave the Saturday before Christmas, once the schools have broken up, flying to Barcelona from Edinburgh through Amsterdam. Is that all right with you?’

‘Damn silly question, if you’ve booked. But of course it is. Did you put them on my Visa like I told you?’

‘Yes, I did. You could have made a mistake, son, giving me that number. But I put the hire car on mine, don’t worry.’

‘You’re a daft old bugger then; we were going to pick that up too. Listen, I’ll fax you directions from the airport nearer the time.’

I paused. ‘So what else is new?’

‘I’ll tell you what is. I’ve had three different journalists on the blower trying to find you. They want to interview you before the premiere of your movie …’

‘Miles and Dawn’s movie, Dad.’

‘Whatever. They all wanted to talk to you in advance, anyway. Wanted to know where you were. I did as you said, and put them on to the distributor’s PR people in London.’

‘I gathered that; I had a message from them yesterday on my mobile. I’m either going to see them when we come back for the Glasgow premiere next month, or the film people will fly them out here to meet me.’

My dad laughed. ‘Do I sound incredulous?’ he asked. ‘Because I fucking well am. I cannot believe this is my son we’re talking about. The same guy who used to be an ambition-free zone. So what do you do after the premiere?’

‘I go to school.’

‘Eh?’

‘That’s right. Miles was happy enough with the way I handled the first movie, but that was because the part was built around me. Before we start shooting the next one, he wants me to have some coaching, so he’s hired a drama tutor to work with me one on one.’

‘Wise man. He faxed me a couple of reviews from movie critics in the States. You get a mention in both of them; they actually sort of hint that you’re no’ bad. . for a beginner.’

‘If I was bad, Dad, I wouldn’t have been there. Miles does no favours on his projects. He must have thought I was up to it.’

‘And what do you think?’

‘I enjoy it; and yes, I do feel comfortable. You’re going to tell me I’ve been play-acting all my life, I suppose.’

‘That I am. Your mother would say the same if she was here, God bless her.’

‘Tell me about it. I can hear her saying just that, all the time. See you soon, Dad. . Oh yes, and remember to bring your golf clubs.’

‘Will do.’

I had almost hit the cancel button when he spoke again.

‘Nearly forgot,’ he exclaimed. ‘Someone else called looking for you: Susie Gantry. She said she wanted to send you a card, so I gave her your new address.’

‘How did she sound?’

‘Okay. The spark seemed to have gone out of the lassie, as you’d expect, losing her man in the way she did; but she’s a tough wee thing. . She will survive, as the song says. She hasn’t been in touch with you?’

‘No.’›

‘Ach well, I expect she will. Give my love to Prim.’

He really did ring off this time. I passed on his greetings to my wife as I walked up to the other end of the pool to rejoin her, with lunch in mind. We were almost indoors when we heard the gate creaking open. I thought it must be Shirley, looking to borrow a cup of sugar or some such, but I was wrong.

As I looked towards the direction of the sound, a small, slender, brown-skinned girl stepped into the driveway. She carried what was either a small suitcase or a large vanity case, and was dressed in a heavy old-fashioned coat, the sort I’d have expected to see on someone twenty years older, but not on her. It flapped half open as I moved towards her and, underneath, I caught a glimpse of a flimsy cotton dress.

‘Can I help you? I asked as I walked towards her, forgetting myself and speaking to her in English. She looked at me blankly, until I repeated the question in Spanish.

‘I was told to come here,’ she answered. The coat opened wider as she spoke, letting me see just how flimsy the dress was. It seemed to cling to her body, making it pretty clear that it was all she was wearing, other than a pair of shoes with platform soles and laces which wound their way up her legs to tie in front of her shins.

I sensed a wind-up in the offing; set up by Frank Barnett maybe, or by the pool man. ‘Pardon?’ I said.

‘I was told to come here,’ she repeated. I dragged my gaze back up to her face. She was very pretty, and certainly not Spanish, although I could only guess at her nationality.

‘Oh yes,’ I went on, still sceptical. ‘And who told you?’

She frowned, her eyelashes flickering nervously. ‘I was told. Sorry. There is a mistake.’

And then she was gone, as quickly as she had arrived, and as noisily, as the gate creaked closed behind her.

I walked back up the drive and into the house. Prim was in the kitchen, making coffee. ‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘If I had to guess, I’d say it was a call-girl; only she called at the wrong address.’

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at me. ‘She’d better have,’ she murmured.