Poisoned Cherries

Chapter 11

I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure what we’d agreed when Susie took the baby back to Glasgow the following night, to be ready for the arrival of the nanny next day.

I knew that whatever it was I liked the idea, and I felt more at peace than I had done since Jan had died. I knew also that I’d better get my head around Miles’s new movie, since there wasn’t that much time left.

Obviously, I’d skimmed through the script before I’d taken the part. The story was fast-moving and exciting, with a slam-bang climax, set in some familiar locations in and around Edinburgh, and I decided to read the book to get myself under the skin of my character. The hero was a senior police detective called Bob Skinner, a real hard bastard; I was playing his sidekick, a guy around my own age by the name of Andy Martin.

The first thing I read about Martin pulled me up short; the author described him as muscular. . I could manage that okay, given the gym work I was in the habit of doing. . and as having curly blond hair, and green contact lenses.

The dye job I could live with, but I saw a problem with the contacts. I can’t stand having even a tiny piece of grit in my eye. I was sufficiently worried to call Miles. . the apartment came complete with a phone and cable television.

He laughed when I told him about my problem. ‘You say you’re okay about the dye job? Did you ever see the remake of The Jackal? Christ, you might not be flavour of the month with Dawn right now, but I still wouldn’t do that to you. You can forget the contacts too. Dark hair and blue eyes will do for the part.

‘How’s tricks, anyway?’

His amiability reassured me; Miles had given me an easy time of it as director of my first two projects. I didn’t know if I could handle it if he started to have a go at me on set.

‘Fine. Everything’s fine.’

‘How are the girls?’

‘The baby’s great and so’s her mum. Susie’s going back to work herself in a couple of days, once the new nanny’s settled in.’

‘Nothing changes, eh. She’s a powerhouse, that girl. You two gonna live together?’

‘Part-time, probably. I’ve rented a place in Edinburgh; that’s where I am now. You’ll like it, I think.’ I described the apartment.

‘Sounds great,’ Miles said, when I had finished. ‘You’re right; I plan to shoot as much of this movie as possible on location, so we’ll need a place for rehearsals, team meetings and so on.

‘In fact, there’s one I’ll set up right away. I’ve hired a technical adviser, an ex-policeman. He’s got the script, and he knows the book. I want him to brief the cast before we start shooting, but first I want to meet him myself. Your place will be perfect for that. Dawn and I get into Edinburgh on Wednesday. I’ll arrange it for Thursday morning, ten sharp, then we’ll have a cast meeting that afternoon. Gimme the address and phone number, and I’ll circulate them to him and everyone else.’

I did as he asked then went back to the book. The more I read about the now dark-haired Andy Martin, the more I realised how tough he was supposed to be. I hadn’t lifted anything heavier than Susie for ten days, so I called the Edinburgh Club, the best fitness centre in town, and checked out their opening hours.

I booked myself in for Monday morning, then went back to Detective Chief Inspector Martin. I’d have read it from cover to cover had I not begun to feel hungry, at around seven o’clock.

I checked the fridge and found it almost bare, apart from some milk, a few tomatoes and an egg. I was almost out of bread too. . Susie and I had only picked up a few groceries and had sent out for pizza the night before.

I was also out of transport. A car can be an inconvenience in central Edinburgh, but these days not having one is a bigger inconvenience still. I had almost decided to take a taxi to Sainsbury’s, when the obvious occurred to me. I was a lad alone in the city; where else would I go?

I hadn’t seen Ali in a couple of years, but I knew he’d be there; the boy really was open all hours. His shop was a bit more than halfway down the Royal Mile, round the corner from my old loft and still no more than ten minutes’ walk from my new digs.

He was behind the counter when I walked in, his back to the door as I closed it silently. As usual he was wearing a turban; if it was meant to be white it wasn’t, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided that it was cream. I don’t know what religion Ali is, and I’ve never asked. I do know that with him the turban is a fashion statement, nothing more.

‘Shop!’ I called out; he spun round, eyes widening as he saw me.

‘Hey,’ he yelled, startling an old lady who was peering into the frozen food container. ‘It’s the fuckin’ Oz man; the fuckin’ movie star. Hullawrerr, Big Man, slummin’ it the night, eh! Of all the bastards, eh!’ As well as being one of the most accessible grocers in Scotland, my old friend is also one of the most foul-mouthed.

The old lady looked at me briefly, sniffed, and went back to perusing the frozen peas. I recognised her, vaguely, from the old days in the lounge bar in the pub down the road.

‘Ah saw you wir back in town,’ Ali proclaimed. He sells newspapers, so that came as no surprise. ‘Fuckin’ big dark horse you, eh. You don’t jist dip yer wick, no’ you. You dip it in the richest bird in Glesca’. Some man, right enough. How’s the wean, onyway?’

‘My daughter is very well thank you, Ali. Eight days old and growing more lovely with every passing moment. . more than I can say for yourself.’

‘Hey there, hey there,’ he bellowed, in an almost cautionary tone. ‘Where did you get the patter? You might be a big shite now, Blackstone, but I kent you when you were just a bampot round the corner.’

I smiled at him, happily. ‘Aye, and you still are.’

He reached across and cuffed me lightly round the ear. ‘Ach, away wi’ ye.’ He looked me up and down, as he rang up a packet of Bird’s Eye fish fingers and a box of McCain’s microchips for the old lady. ‘You put on a bit o’ weight?’ he asked.

‘I’ve muscled up a bit. I work out.’

‘You onna steroids?’

‘Nah.’ I felt myself lapsing into Ali-speak. ‘All protein and weights. Speaking of protein, gimme a pound of Lorne sausage, half a dozen eggs and four rolls. I’ll take some beer as well, and a pint of milk. .’

Between us, we filled a box with enough food to keep me going for three or four days. ‘This still your only shop?’ I asked, as he gave me my change.

‘Aye, but it’s no’ my only business. I’m in partnership wi’ ma cousin Sinjit; we do outside catering.’

‘What kind?’

‘Sannies for office meetings, and curries, bahjis, pakora, that sort of stuff; we’re like everyone else around here, making a fuckin’ bomb out of this new parliament. We’re thinkin’ about goin’ after a catering concession in the new building, once it’s finished. Be as fuckin’ rich as you one day, son.’

‘In your dreams, pal. I’ll maybe give you some work though; we’ll be having fairly regular meetings in my place up at the Mound. Give me some menus and I’ll take a look at them.’

‘Thanks. Ah’ll get Sinjit to call you, if you gie’ me the number.’ As I wrote it down, his eyebrows rose. ‘Hey, how’s that fuckin’ alligator of yours doin’?’

‘Iguana, Ali. He’s an iguana; he’s with my nephews now, up in St Andrews.’

‘Naw, naw. No’ him, Ah ken what he is. Naw, Ah meant that bird of yours, that Prim. Right fuckin’ man-eater she was.’

I frowned at him; anyone else, I might have done more than that, but Ali had always been an extreme liberty-taker. ‘You are speaking, sir, of my soon to be ex-wife. I would take exception, only you’re right. . not that I knew it back then.’

‘Ah did, but; she had you by the ba’s, that’s for sure.’

‘On and off, Ali; on and off. It’s all over now, though.’

‘Jist as well. Oh by the way, another bird was asking after you. Member that lassie you went out wi’ a few years back? Alison.’

I nodded. ‘Of course I do.’

‘She was in here the other day, askin’ after you. She said she wantit tae get in touch; asked me if Ah hid yir number.’

‘Pass it on tae her then. Ah don’t mind. Shit, Ah’ll have to get out of here, or Ah’ll be talkin’ like you all fucking week. See you.’

I picked up the box, making sure that my tins of lager were packed tight, and made a sharp exit.