She kissed me and whispered, ‘Welcome back. I’ve been cold these last two nights without you.’
‘Hah,’ I heard myself say. ‘Think yourself lucky. You might have been in Anstruther.’ My first tiny half-lie.
She took my arm, just like Jan had done, as I slung my bag over my shoulder. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, intrigued, pointing at the long tube, which I was carrying sloped like a rifle against my neck, as we emerged into the warm, humid, evening air and crossed the road to the car park.
‘I’ll show you when we get home. It’s too awkward to open it now, but it has to do with our commission.’
Because I had declined the aircraft booze, I was able to drive us back up the autopista to L’Escala. We sat in silence for the first part of the journey, for the ronda north through Barca is a bit of a bugger to find, and you can get seriously lost if you take the wrong option.
But eventually, we were through the city and safely on our way. ‘So how is everyone?’ asked Prim, as the Frontera’s lights cut a swathe through a bank of mist.
‘Everyone’s fine. Dad and Mary are as happy as I’ve ever seen them. My nephews are exhausting. Wallace is being spoiled rotten. Oh yes, and my sister’s got a bit on the side.’
‘What!’ Prim sat bolt upright and turned towards me in her seat, until she was caught by her seat belt. There was a huge grin on her face, as if she found the notion preposterous.
I couldn’t help but feel slightly offended, on Ellie’s behalf. ‘You heard me,’ I said. ‘What’s so funny about that?You haven’t seen my sister in going on three months. She’s quite a piece of work now, I can tell you.’
‘I’m sure she is. It’s just that I didn’t expect …’ She trailed off, and out of the corner of my eye I could see her smile. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though. After all, you Blackstones are fast workers.’
Suddenly I was back in the loft. ‘That’s what you think,’ I muttered, almost, but not quite, to myself. I couldn’t hold it in. I was thinking of the passing of most of a lifetime, and of the confusion that had run through it.
She looked at me, puzzled, as I stared at the road ahead. ‘Oh, don’t be huffy. If Ellie’s got a new light in her life, that’s great. God knows, my own sister’s had a few torches in her time.’
‘Aye,’ I said. ‘We’re talking about the Hampden floodlights there, right enough.’
‘Oz!’ Now it was Prim’s turn to flare up. ‘Look, what’s got into you?’
There it was. My opening. My chance to spill the beans, to confess all about the night before … and maybe throw Prim’s life, and mine, down the crapper.
‘Och, I’m sorry, love,’ I said at last. ‘Two flights in a day. It’s too much for me. As a matter of fact one’s too much. Flying stresses me out, and it takes me a while to get back to normal.’
Suddenly her hand was on my sleeve, then stroking my cheek. ‘Full of surprises, aren’t you. I didn’t think anything stressed you out. Never mind, I’ll cure it once we get home.’
I flashed her a weak smile. ‘Tonight, my love, I’m a rat. Food and drink come first.’
‘My God,’ she laughed. ‘It has been a tough day.’
Casa Minana was closed up tight when we got back to St Marti, just before 11:15 p.m., but they were still serving food at the tables outside Meson del Conde. We chose a place well back from the doorway and sat down, without even taking my bag upstairs to the apartment. We ordered sardines followed by chicken and chips, and I told the waiter to keep the beer coming.
Suddenly I was hungry and thirsty at the same time. Prim watched me as I demolished my sardines, then what was left of hers, and set about my half chicken. ‘When did you last eat?’ she asked.
‘Breakfast,’ I said, without thinking.
‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘Rolls and sliced sausage.’
‘Got it in one,’ I said, finishing my third beer. ‘From Ali’s.’
‘I thought you said you were in Anstruther?’
‘That was Saturday night.’ I don’t think I paused, or batted an eyelid. ‘Ali’s isn’t all that far from Jan’s.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I suppose not. How is Jan, anyway?’
‘Blooming. We’re plotting our parents’ wedding.’
‘I’ll bet. And how’s Noosh?’
‘Okay. She’s advising Ellie on her separation agreement, or her firm is.’
‘Mmm. That’s good.’
‘Sure is,’ I thought. ‘I didn’t tell her a single lie there.’ ‘Not fucking much!’ an invisible wee red devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear.
‘By the way, Dawn phoned yesterday morning,’ said Prim, ‘from Los Angeles. She’s at Miles’ place. She sounded really happy. What a difference from the girl we met at Auchterarder a few months ago.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. But don’t let’s get back to talking about sisters, eh.’
‘No, I suppose not. But the cow woke me up. They had just got in from a party. It was nine-thirty in the morning here.’
I finished my chicken and attacked my next beer. ‘How was the party you were at? That Anglo-Catalan thing on Saturday.’
She shrugged. ‘It was okay. Quite interesting, I suppose, although I was the only person there aged under fifty, apart from someone’s son.’
‘Who was that?’ I asked.
‘A couple called Miller. He’s visiting them for a couple of weeks. His name’s Steve. He’s in the motor business, in Brighton.’
‘So what was interesting about the night? Him?’
She shot me a piercing look. ‘Don’t be silly. I made some new acquaintances. D’you remember that lady we’ve seen at the Trattoria? Very tall, slim, blonde.’ I nodded.
‘I was introduced to her. Her name’s Shirley Gash. She’s fantastic. She had this amazing little man with her. I’m not quite sure where he fits in. She announced him as a house guest. His name’s Davidoff, would you believe. Sounds like a Russian Prince. Unfortunately he looks like a Transylvanian gypsy. You might meet him. We’re invited up to Shirley’s for drinks tomorrow afternoon. Apparently she lives in a big house up on what they call Millionaires’ Row. Janice says she’s a widow.’
I did in some more beer, chasing but not killing my thirst. A refill appeared automatically, with our coffee. I was working at it, and I had almost reached the mellow stage, when the shout came from the doorway of Meson del Conde. ‘Primavera, my love!’
We both looked up together, but something made me look at Prim, rather than at the shouter. Even under the tan, I could see her flush. He came towards us between the tables, a medium sized chap, wearing a professional smile and a silk shirt with a gold Benson and Hedges pack in the breast pocket. Behind him a different couple, well old enough to have been his parents, stood by the entrance to the restaurant. I recognised them as part of the ex-pat wallpaper.
He leaned over Prim and kissed her, on the cheek, but for a little longer than politeness dictated. ‘Lovely to see you again,’ I heard him whisper. I had taken an instant dislike to him, and that just made it worse.
Primavera leaned back in her chair, back from him, and looked up at me. ‘Steve,’ she said. ‘This is Oz Blackstone, my boyfriend. He just got back from Scotland tonight. Oz, this is Steve Miller.’
I like to think that I’m a friendly guy, but on the odd occasion when someone does get up my nose, I just can’t help clearing it. I stood up, slowly. Miller held out his hand. I shook it, squeezing more powerfully than was necessary.
‘You know, Steve,’ a voice in my head said, ‘there’s nothing more annoying, even to a placid bloke like me, than some smarmy bastard coming up and slobbering all over your girlfriend, just as if you weren’t there. Now piss off before I take a pop at you.’
‘Hello, Steve,’ I said, instead. I nodded towards the two bodgers in the doorway. ‘Is that your band?’
He looked at me, bewildered.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re no rock n’ roller, eh?’