‘Two days!’ She puffed up like a pigeon in her indignation. ‘What the hell am I going to …’
I seized her hand, and my chance. ‘What the hell else are you going to do? Let’s take your kit round to my place and leave these guys to it.’
In which Jan gets a shock, Primavera meets Wallace, and I gain a sleeping partner
Out in the street, I was delighted to see that the Traffic Warden from the Other Side had been so disconcerted that he had neglected to paste me up for my out-of-date disc. The blue Nissan wore no adornment other than bird-shit, and a few specks that weren’t.
I opened the tailgate door and slung Prim’s kitbag first into the boot, and then the smaller one which she had packed with a few ‘sensible clothes’ from her wardrobe and cupboard, under the supervision of a young woman detective, who, she told me, had kept sneaking astounded glances at the tiny colossus on the bed.
Neither of us spoke as I coaxed the engine into life and reversed out of my parking space. I weaved my way through the police cars which were thronging the street like ants round a peach-stone. We were heading up Leith Walk, when Prim said: ‘So where is it then? This refuge I’m bound for, this pad of yours.’
I grinned, thinking it would put her at ease. From her expression, my grin must have been more of a leer. ‘Not that far. It’s in the Old Town, down one of the closes off the High Street.’
‘And will Mrs Blackstone be gone for long?’
‘My mother is dead,’ I said solemnly.
Prim frowned. ‘Don’t be cheap. You know what I mean, Mrs as in spouse, or even Ms Something Else as in live-in partner.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t have any of those. My last live-in girlfriend was two years ago. She died of “dish-pan hands, Mummy”, or so she said. Since then I’ve preferred my independence. There are some bloody good takeaways around the centre of town, you know.’ I let the silence fill the car as she weighed up Oz in a new environment, and pondered the prospect of Oz on Oz’s turf.
‘Mind you,’ I said, after a suitable interval, looking sheepishly at the dashboard as we turned into Leith Walk. ‘I don’t know how you’ll take to Wallace.’
She gasped. ‘Wallace! You’re not…’
I relished the sight of Prim on the back foot. ‘What about it if I am?’ She looked at me, uncertain for the first time in our short acquaintance.
‘Actually, if there was anything between Wallace and me they’d have to invent a new name for it. Wallace is an Iguana. He’s the last of the dinosaurs. I named him after a wizened old fisherman uncle of my Mum’s.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘Let me get this right. You’re taking me to a flat that you share with a lizard?’
‘Wallace would be hurt by the description, but yes, that just about sums it up.’
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘The first time I saw you, Oz Blackstone, I thought there might be some mileage in you. Could be I was right.’
‘I’m touched, my dear.’
‘Yes, that was what I thought.’
‘Thank you again, on behalf of loonies everywhere. But seriously for once, we’re clear of that lot back there. Is there anywhere else you want me to take you? How about your parents?’
‘God no, Oz. For a start they’re in Auchterarder; and for seconds, sooner or later Mum would ask me about Dawn, and I’ve never been able to lie to her.’
‘But Prim, you’re going to need to talk to her. The murder might be reported on telly tonight. She could see your flat on the news.’
She shook her head slowly. ‘No, I think not. My parents cling to this planet by their fingertips. Mother’s hobby is Romantic Novels and Dad devotes his life to making model soldiers. He sells them to collectors through magazines. Anything from one-off Kilties to whole battle scenes, to order. They’re just not interested in what’s on the telly, unless it’s by Barbara Taylor Bradford or Kate Adie.’
‘Is there anyone else, then?’ Suddenly I was seized by the thought that taking this woman under my roof would be the biggest step into the unknown that I’d ever made. ‘Do you have any friends in Edinburgh?’
She turned in her seat and looked at me. ‘Do I feel the chill of cold feet? Do you want to be shot of me?’
‘Absolutely not,’ I shot back at her, too fast in the circumstances. ‘I just don’t want you to feel that you’re being …’
‘Spirited away to your lair, were you going to say?’ Her smile was delicious. ‘Don’t worry, Oz, we fell into this thing together, and I reckon we should see it through together. More than that, you’re my best bet for a shower and a sleep. Shower first, though. Do I need one!’
I creased my nose and looked sideways at her. ‘Funny that. I was just thinking that it’s been a long time since I had a really ripe woman in this car!’ She slapped my arm, hard enough for me to feel her strength, not hard enough to hurt. I saw her tanned nurse’s bicep bunch.
We made our way up the Walk, pausing occasionally for red lights. It was a beautiful warm day in early May, and the trees in the central reservation were in blossom.
‘You know, Mr Oz Blackstone,’ said Prim, ‘this may sound like the wrong thing to say in the circumstances, but I’m glad to be home. Even Florence Nightingale must have become dehumanised after a while. If you need an example, just think back to how I reacted to finding a corpse in my bed!’
‘Hey,’ I said as gently as I could. ‘You are home. Just hang on to that. You’re in Edinburgh and it’s beautiful. Look around you.’ The car swept round the Elm Row island, and up towards Picardy Place. She laughed. ‘Come on Oz. That’s the St James Centre up ahead. Not even a homeboy could call that beautiful.’
‘Okay, well just hang on a minute. We’ll get to some nice bits!’
My house is in one of the nicer bits. Less than half a mile from the Palace of Holyroodhouse, so for a week every year I can say that I have the Queen for a neighbour.
‘What’s this?’ said Prim, as I slid the Nissan into my parking space.
‘My house. Where I live. It’s a conversion. It used to be a grain store or something, until a developer got hold of it. I live in that pointy bit up there. It’s more of a loft than a flat. See the bit right at the top? According to the estate agent who sold me the place, that’s called a belvedere. There’s a ladder up to it. Quite often Wallace climbs up it to sun himself. Yes, there he is, look.’ As if wakened by the sound of our arrival, the iguana peered down at us solemnly.
‘Jesus,’ said Prim, shaking her head. ‘I find a dead dwarf in my bed, and now I’m going home with a guy who has an iguana as a flatmate.’
‘A loft, not a flat,’ Must get the terminology right.
‘Loft, flat,’ she said. ‘What’s the difference?’
‘About five grand in a good market, I reckon.’ That got her attention.
We made our way up the narrow, twisty stairway to my pad, and stepped into the tiny square area which passed for my entrance hall. Two doors and a staircase led from it. ‘Kitchen to the left, bathroom door to the right,’ I said. I opened each door to demonstrate. When I opened the door on the right, a red-faced woman screamed. She was sat on the toilet, so it was understandable.
‘The rest of it’s up there.’ I said hurriedly. Weighed down by bags, I led the way up the staircase to the heart of my stronghold. Prim stepped up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Er, Oz. About Mrs Blackstone?’
I frowned. ‘I told you, my mother’s dead. Anyway, she always bolted the door when she went to the toilet. That was Jan. She does my books, but she sets her own hours.’
Well, it was true. Jan and I were at school together. She did my books. Occasionally she ironed a shirt if she felt sorry for me, On even rarer occasions, when something was troubling her or she just felt like my company, she gave me a cuddle in the night.
Downstairs we heard the toilet flush. I looked across the room. Fortunately my ledgers were spread out on my desk. Prim followed my eyes, then looked around the rest of the place.