Poisoned Cherries

Chapter 43

Actually I was in it already, as I found out when I left the Oxford. I had switched off my mobile while I was talking to Ricky; when I turned it on again, outside in Young Street, it flashed at me impatiently to tell me that I had a voice message.

It was Susie, terse and to the point. ‘Call me back.’

I obeyed, trying her mobile first, since its ringing was less likely to disturb Janet. ‘You might have warned me,’ she said, as soon as she answered.

‘I thought I had,’ I protested, not knowing what the hell she was on about. ‘Is Mandy there with you?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘and that made it worse, having her in the house. She knew who she was, when the buzzer went and she answered it.’

The third pint of lager had fogged my brain. ‘Who?’ I mumbled.

‘Prim, you idiot, who else? Your wife came to see me and our daughter. You might have bloody well warned me she was around.’

‘But she only turned up this afternoon,’ I heard myself protest, lamely. ‘And when she left I thought she was going up to Perthshire to see her folks. I’d no idea she’d go to see you, or I’d have told her not to.’

‘Fat chance she’d have listened,’ said Susie, scornfully.

‘So what did she say? Did Mandy have to referee?’

‘Mandy wasn’t there; I sent her into the kitchen while we had our chat.’

‘And?’

‘And she was as nice as only Primavera can be when she puts her mind to it. She asked if she could see the baby, and when I showed her to her she got all misty-eyed. She’d even stopped in at a shopping centre and bought her a present.

‘Then she said that the way things had worked out were probably for the best. She hoped that you and I would be very happy together and she wished us both luck. What do you make of that?’

‘What should I make of it?’ I replied. ‘I’m relieved, I suppose. She didn’t know about Janet until she turned up in Edinburgh this afternoon. It came as a real shock to her. I’m pleased that she’s taken the news so well.’

‘She didn’t know? She told you that? And you believed her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, you poor, gullible lad; she’s a better actor than you are. . not that it would be hard.’

‘Come on, Susie,’ I protested, stung by her critical review, ‘what’s your problem with all this?’

‘I know her,’ she shot back. ‘Her turning up like this was not spur of the moment, and as for her best wishes, they were a declaration of war. I was always wary of Prim at the best of times; as things are now, I wouldn’t trust her an inch.’

‘Ah, come on. Sometimes you have to take people at face value.’

‘She isn’t people! She’s your wife, and she’s got the biggest down on me any woman could possibly have on another. So when she swans into my house, goes gooey over my baby, and wishes me long life and happiness, no way will I believe a bloody word she’s saying!’

‘Well I do, okay?’

‘Sure you do, like you believed her in the past, when she was having it off with half of Spain in your absence.’

‘She didn’t really lie to me, though. I just assumed. Anyway, all that time was none of my business.’

‘Yeah? And what about her and Mike? When she was with you and he was with me? What about that?’

Young Street grew blurred all around me; I held the phone away from my ear and looked at it until my eyes focused. ‘What did you just say?’ I asked her, when I could find the words.

‘Nothing I ever planned to,’ she replied. ‘I never intended to tell you, but the two of them had an affair, in Glasgow.’

‘Prim and Dylan? You’re making that up; you have to be.’

‘I wish I was, but I’m not. After he died, I found a letter she wrote him; the daft bastard kept it, inside the birthday card it came in. It was wishing him many happy returns, in more ways than one.’

‘So,’ I said slowly, ‘when you turned up in Spain, and we got it together, you were getting your own back too?’

Susie fell silent. ‘No,’ she answered eventually. ‘I didn’t plan it that way. But it made it a hell of a lot easier, I can tell you.’

‘So why didn’t you tell me about her and Dylan until now?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t see the need, I suppose. You liked him and he’s gone. What was the point of telling you?’

‘And did you tell Prim you knew?’

‘No. I’m keeping that in reserve for when I need it.’

‘And when will that be?’

‘When she tries to get you back, as she will.’

‘She won’t; she knows better.’

‘I know better; she will, believe me. Maybe she’s started already.’

I thought about our encounter that afternoon, and Prim’s willingness to put the couch to good use. Susie latched on to my silence. ‘She has, hasn’t she!’ she exclaimed, almost triumphantly.

‘Well if she did, she failed. And when she saw that she had she went to see you and wished you all the best.’

I heard her laugh. ‘In your dreams, big boy. Tell me something. This man who’s been following you, the guy who took our picture and planted it in your room; has it ever occurred to you that he might be working for your wife? Did it never occur to you that she was being far too compliant over the divorce?’

No, it had not; never, until that moment. I told Susie as much. ‘Well maybe you should give it some thought. You’re trying to make a movie, which she knows all about because her sister’s in it. Out of the blue, dodgy things happen. Why shouldn’t she be behind them? Why shouldn’t she be behind all of them?’