Lorraine made a face and walked into her office. She went behind her desk and sat down. After what Decker had just said she found it hard to look at Burton.
‘Off the record, Mrs Page, I called to say thank you for sending over the videos and for your... other assistance, and to tell you that as yet we’ve had no news from the county morgue on the Cindy Nathan autopsy.’
He kept staring at her, then added, ‘That’s all really. Thank you.’
He walked to the door. ‘Is your dog a cross between a German shepherd and...’
‘I’m not sure — I kind of inherited him, but he’s got malamute or maybe wolfhound somewhere.’
‘I used to have a Dobermann,’ he said. ‘Miss them when they go — especially the walks. Kind of clears your head, or it did with me. Anyway, thank you again.’
He was about to open the door when Lorraine said, ‘Whenever you feel like walking, just call me — he’s always available.’
He gave a shy smile. ‘I will. I’d like it even better if there was some company too. Anyway, I’d better make tracks. Thank you again.’
‘Let me give you my home number,’ she said suddenly. She wrote on one of her cards, and passed it to him.
‘I’ll take you up on that.’
She followed him out, and he asked where she usually walked. ‘Oh, sometimes the park, but on nice evenings I drive to the promenade. He loves the beach.’
Decker was listening, but pretending to be busy. Tiger raised his head as they passed and Burton patted him, then nodded to Lorraine, and grinned at Decker. ‘Nice meeting you again — goodbye.’
Lorraine watched him leave, and Decker rolled his eyes. ‘My God, you are so slow. He was begging yon for a date — when a guy talks about taking your dog for a walk, you know, sweetheart, it’s you he wants to go walkies with.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ she said, returning to her office.
‘So what did he want?’
Lorraine shrugged. ‘Nothing, really, just to thank me for sending the videos over.’
‘Oh, really?’ Decker said, raising his eyebrows. ‘He had to come and see you to do that? So he is after your ass.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Lorraine said dismissively.
He laughed. ‘Sweetie, trust me, you’ll have to make the running. He’s all male, all testosterone and incapable of coming out with the line “I suppose a fuck is out of the question”, but he has major hot pants for you, trust me.’
‘Not in a blue moon, Decker. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you.’
‘If you could see your face — ’ he giggled ‘ — go take a look!’
She slammed her office door, and scurried to look at herself in the make-up mirror she kept in a filing cabinet. She was flushed, and she did have the hots for Burton. Decker was just a sex-obsessed fag — but intuitive.
Kendall turned into the alley that ran along the back of the gallery, overlooked by barred windows and full of huge commercial garbage bins. Most businesses left their back yards open to use as a parking area, but Kendall had enclosed all the space that belonged to her to construct a workroom, and she pulled up now in front of the high iron gates she had installed. On the other side of the alley were the backs of the shops and other properties that fronted Canon Drive. One was a men’s accessories shop, run by a guy called Greg Jordan. Now she saw him standing at the back door of his shop. She waved across to him, making sure he saw her, not wanting to appear furtive. ‘Hi, how’s business?’ she called loudly.
He walked out into the alley. ‘Slow. How is it with you?’
‘Not so bad. Got a client coming in — ‘bye now.’ She waved again, and pushed open the big double gates.
Eric was in the yard, stacking a delivery of old frames they would repair in the shop. She tossed him the keys of the jeep, a little irritated that he was there: she had forgotten about him. ‘Eric, there’s a delivery of white spirits in the jeep — bring them in for me, will you? ‘
‘Sure, Mrs Nathan, but we’ve got plenty in stock,’ he said, heaving an old gilded plaster frame up to lean against the wall of the workshop.
‘I know, but I don’t want it cluttering up the garage.’
Eric wandered out to the alley, unobserved by Greg Jordan, now busy with a customer. ‘Where do you want them?’ he asked Kendall, as he carried the crate of spirit into the workshop.
‘Just leave them by the door,’ she said nonchalantly, bumping into the big trestle table covered with paints and pots.
‘You all right, Mrs Nathan?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine. We do any business today?’ she asked, trying to appear casual, and he said there had been just a few customers, but no sales.
‘Well, I might close up early,’ she said, then had to hold onto the ledge of the table as the room was spinning. ‘Got a headache, actually,’ she muttered, and he looked at her but said nothing. It was obvious she had been drinking.
‘You want me in the morning?’ he asked.
‘Of course. Maybe come in a bit early as I want to shift some of these paintings into the main space.’
‘I can do it now, if you want.’
‘No, tomorrow will be fine. I’m going out to dinner, so I won’t be here long. I’ll just lock up and then I’ll be leaving.’
‘Okay.’ He stared at her again: she was dragging some wooden frames from behind a screen.
‘You sure you don’t want me to stay an’ help out?’
‘No, just go. See you tomorrow.’
Eric hovered by the door, watching her stumble against a wall. He’d never seen her like this in the two years he’d worked there. ‘You sure you’re okay, Mrs Nathan?’
She turned on him angrily. ‘I’m fine. Now just go, go on, get out.’
‘On my way,’ he said, picking up his jacket. He didn’t give a shit either way — he’d never liked her or her hawk face. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he said, as the door shut after him.
Alone, Kendall did not move until she had heard the yard gates clang shut. Then she heaved more and more wooden frames into the centre of the room, laughing softly, knowing they would catch light fast.
Lorraine was clearing her desk, getting ready to leave for home, when the phone rang. She checked the time — five thirty. Decker buzzed her office. ‘Call for you, Mrs Page, line two. Lieutenant Gorgeous. Okay if I leave?’
‘Sure. See you tomorrow.’ She hesitated, then switched to line two. ‘Lorraine Page speaking.’
‘Hi... er, I was just wondering... I’m off duty early this evening, and it’s a... well, it’s a nice night, and I was wondering... if you were going for a walk. Or if you were busy I could take your dog out for you.’
She smiled. ‘I’m just leaving the office.’
‘Oh, well, another time.’
‘No, no, I meant that I’d go home, change, and I’d like... we could walk together.’
‘Oh, yes, fine.’
She gave him her home address again — just to make sure — and they arranged to meet at seven thirty. She couldn’t stop smiling. She had a date! Well, she and Tiger had one.
Usually, when she got home, Lorraine tore off her clothes, pulled on an old track suit and sneakers, then walked to the nearest park, ran for almost two miles and went home. Tonight she washed her hair, redid her make-up, and put on a pale blue track suit with a white T-shirt that she wore only for the gym on Saturdays — it was an expensive designer label, and she knew the colour suited her. Then she tidied the apartment, arranged some fresh flowers and sprayed air freshener, while Tiger padded after her, wondering what the hell was going on. He even dragged his lead from the hook by the door and sat there waiting, afraid that she would go out without walking him.