Poisoned Cherries

Chapter 36

There were no more sightings of the stalker, if such he was. A couple of times people tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I was me, then asked for my autograph, but they didn’t bother me. I had a hunch that the watcher knew bloody well who I was.

Susie hadn’t a clue what was going on, of course, so she sat and listened happily to the organ recital for a while, then she and I walked around the museum. . the art gallery side is without a highlight now, since they moved the Dali.

I tried to stay a pace behind her all the time, because it was easier than keeping up an unconcerned appearance. It didn’t fool her, though, even if she did get the wrong idea.

We were hardly back in the flat, and I had hardly finished changing wee Jan. . it was my turn. . before Susie punched me lightly in the ribs. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Away you go back to your movie. You’ve been like a cat on hot bricks all afternoon.’

She really did take me by surprise; I thought I’d been pretty cool about the thing.

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Yes you have.’

‘Well, okay, maybe I have; but I get a bit jumpy in public places, especially today, when I was trying to have a normal family day out.’

She laughed. ‘All you wanted to see were your trams. You couldn’t wait to get home after that.’

She was right, even if she didn’t know why.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ I said. ‘Why don’t we take hospitality boxes at Ibrox and Celtic Park? We could go to each one on alternate Saturdays, and teach our daughter true ecumenicism.’

Susie frowned. ‘What are you talking about? I’ve got boxes at Celtic and Rangers, through the company. My managers use them every week for clients and suppliers. You can go any time you like. You’re a director, remember? Just don’t expect me to join in, and don’t expect to expose our daughter to the sort of language those crowds use.’

She tugged my sleeve gently, drawing me towards her on the couch. I was holding the baby, so I sat down carefully. ‘Speaking of religion, loosely,’ she said, ‘how do you feel about having the baby christened?’

Belief was a subject I’d never discussed with Susie; it’s a subject I don’t discuss with anyone as a rule. I was an atheist pure and simple until my mother died, then things changed, but I’ve never gone in for denominations or such stuff. As far as I’m concerned they’re only another excuse for people to fight.

‘I feel she should make up her own mind, when she’s old enough.’

‘So do I. Let’s just try to set her a good example, okay.’

I leaned across and kissed her; not a let’s-go-to-bed kiss, just a simple show of affection. Then I picked up the remote and switched on Gillette Soccer Saturday on Sky Sports. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘let’s.’

We watched as the pundits described the games from television monitors, and as the final scores began to appear on a ribbon at the foot of the screen. Eventually the East Fife score came up, a four-nil home gubbing by East Stirlingshire, and my Saturday afternoon was over.

While Susie fed the baby again I made supper for the two of us. I found all the ingredients for a very nice stir-fry; onions, chillies, shitake mushrooms, bean sprouts and chicken breast. I cooked them all up in a mix of olive oil, soy sauce and Lea and Perrins, and right at the end, I cracked in a couple of large eggs and beat them in firmly, to help bind the lot together.

Nobody taught me to do that, but ever since I heard a dodgy comedian claim on telly that whatever blokes cooked, no matter what they called it, it was always bloody stew, I’ve made a point of being able to do other things. Who knows? Maybe if I’d liked that comedian, rather than being annoyed by the smug sod, the world would have lost a great stir-fry chef.

‘This is great,’ said Susie, as she tucked into a small mountain of the stuff. She looked at me, appraisingly, across the table. ‘I think you’re hired.’

I couldn’t think of something to say, so I just shrugged my shoulders. The thing was, I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure that I’d applied for the job.

I stayed for as long as I could, but given my flying start next morning, and a growing streak of professionalism which demands that I’m at my best when going to work, I announced around eight-thirty that I’d better hit the road.

I thought about telling her that she had a minder, but I decided against it. If I’d done that, I’d have had to tell her why, and I reckoned that would have scared her. . not for herself, but for the baby. Besides, the first time I’d seen the guy he’d been following me alone; as I saw it, they were probably safer with me out of the way.

I had confidence in Ricky’s people, but I was half hoping that my friend would have a go at me. Okay, maybe he was no more than a fan trying to get close, but he’d interfered with my family time and I didn’t like that.

I found myself thinking about him for most of the way back to Edinburgh and I didn’t like that either. I was starting work on my most important movie in the morning. . it’s like football, but you’re only as good as your next game, rather than your last. . and here I was having to force myself to concentrate on it. No, I was annoyed, and given half a chance, the cause of it would pay.

When I got back to the Mound, I thought about calling Ricky, but he’d know where I was, and I knew that if he’d anything to tell me, he’d have been in touch. So I parked the Mercedes and walked up the slope to the tall grey building. I let myself into the apartment, and went straight to my bedroom, flicking on the light when I got there, dropping my bag on the floor, and heading straight for the shower, ripping off clothes as I went.

I must have stayed in there for a good ten minutes, trying to wash that man right out of my hair, I suppose. Eventually I succeeded; I towelled myself dry, brushed my teeth and headed for bed, focused fully on next morning.

I stepped out of the bathroom into darkness. At first I thought the bulb had blown, but then I sensed movement on my right. I spun towards it. . then felt my world turn upside-down.

I call myself a wrestler. I mean, I’ve been trained, I know proper holds and throws and everything; the real stuff. I hadn’t a chance: my legs were kicked out from under me, and a slim but very strong arm went across my chest in the same instant, driving me down. I landed on my back, hard enough to wind me for an instant. My arms spread out wide as I fell. As I hit the ground, I felt them pinned down, and a weight pressing on me.

There wasn’t much moon but a little light was creeping in from the outside, through the slatted blinds. I could see. . and feel. . that my attacker was naked, and at the same moment I could feel. . and just about see. . that she was female. She was straddling me, trapping my upper arms with her feet, pressing my thighs to the ground with strong arms.

My eyes grew more accustomed to the light; I couldn’t believe what they were seeing, close up. Then I felt something else, and I heard a voice that was more of a loud mumble. ‘Lie still,’ Mandy O’Farrell ordered, ‘or I may bite.’

I flexed my biceps and used my leg strength to lift her clear of the ground and to pull the part of her that was nearest to me even closer still. ‘I could say the same to you,’ I pointed out. In the end, we called it a draw.

The apartment was warm; we were both covered in sweat from our brief struggle when she rolled off me, and swung herself round. She was grinning. ‘Think you’re so tough, eh?’ She was right; half an hour before I had been thinking about filling in my stalker.

‘Do you realise’, I asked her, ‘that I could have you f ired?’

She gave me a look of pure innocence. ‘But Mr Ross,’ she exclaimed in a girlie voice unlike her own, ‘I was only obeying your orders.’

I stared at her in what must have been amazement, for she laughed out loud. ‘Ricky told me that you were heading back to Edinburgh on your own, and that I was to get here and stay as close to you as I could. Couldn’t do better than that, eh?’

‘So how did you get in?’

‘I told you, this building has no security. . well, actually, it has but I’m rather good at that sort of thing. I’m good at all sorts of things, as you know by now.’

I have to move out of here, I thought. It’s bad luck; I keep getting beaten up by women.

I could feel an incipient carpet burn on my bum, so I pushed myself up from the ground and slid into the king-size-plus bed. Mandy followed me under the duvet. In the circumstances I couldn’t be bothered protesting. I caught another flash of her in the moonlight, as she stood. With her long powerful limbs, high breasts, and genuine blonde hair, she made me think of a silver wolf.

‘Is this the way you usually go about your job?’ I asked her.

‘Not very often; in fact, hardly ever. Sometimes clients expect it; they think it’s part of the service. Those ones really have no chance. You’d think Arabs might be the worst for that, by the way, but they’re not. No, it’s the Americans you have to watch out for.’

‘I’d have thought they’d have to watch out for you.’ She laughed. ‘Those who tried it on, that is.’

She ran a hand across my chest. ‘I’m glad you’re one of the nice types,’ she said. ‘You’re a strong boy; I don’t know how I’d handle you if you got rough.’ My self-esteem was restored.

‘Very carefully,’ I suggested. She took me at my word, and moved across me; I found myself looking up into her smiling eyes. ‘Mandy,’ I told her, ‘fidelity has never come easy to me, and you’re making it more difficult by the second.’

‘I can feel that,’ she remarked.

‘So please. . and don’t be offended, because I’m having trouble asking this. . go and sleep in the spare room.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve got my orders.’