‘I can stand that. If you think it’s necessary, that’ll be good enough for me.’
‘That’s good.’ He grinned at her. ‘As for sleeping with paranoid men, let me tell you something. There may not be a camera in this room, but you can bet that there will be on all the accommodation floors. You’d be amazed at who can access them.’
‘Now that is what I call paranoia.’ She laughed.
‘Maybe, my love, but it is, in fact, gospel truth. If I saw you to your room, and went inside, I could go into my temporary office tomorrow and have someone pull up the tapes of me doing so. I could even check on when I left.’
Forty-five
The phone had not rung all evening, and Alex was relieved, not because she feared another of those calls but because her time was limited. She had made it home later than she had planned, and she had to shower, change and get herself, as her friend Gina Reed would have put it, glammed up for her big night out.
His call had been the one reasonably bright spot of her day. It had come through on her mobile as she was leaving Paula Viareggio’s office, taking her completely by surprise: Guy Luscomb, her occasional date from her London stint, was in town on business, and would she like to have dinner? Of course she would: so what if Guy was a little self-assured? He was pleasant and she had worked out early in their acquaintance that, as long as she did not take him as seriously as he did, he was okay.
When the entry-phone rang she was ready to go, but she invited him in for a drink, since they would be travelling by taxi that evening.
‘Lexy, darling,’ he greeted her, as she opened the door, ‘you’re looking radiant, even better on your home turf than down in the big smoke.’ His insistence on calling her ‘Lexy’, a nickname that she had discouraged all her life, was his one really annoying habit, but she let it lie because of the compliment.
She stood back and looked him up and down: he wore a yellow Dannimac overcoat, which hung open revealing a suit that might as well have had ‘Armani’ tattooed on its lapels. In that instant he reminded her of Carlos, from the Il Divo quartet; she was certain that the effect was deliberate. ‘You don’t look too shabby yourself, sunshine,’ she said, ‘considering it’s December and pissing down outside.’
‘It’s what black cabs are for, my darling,’ he told her, stepping inside and kissing her quickly on the cheek.
‘That’s a little formal,’ she remarked, and was surprised by the awkwardness of his smile.
‘It’s been a while,’ he pointed out.
‘True,’ Alex conceded. ‘Last May: nice Turkish restaurant, wasn’t it?’
‘Your memory serves you well, and in honour of that occasion I’ve booked something similar tonight, a place called Nargile. I’m told it’s very good.’
‘It is: I’ve been there.’ She led him into the living room. ‘That’ll be nice, but first, make yourself comfortable while I open some cava.’
When she returned with two glasses and a bowl of pretzels on a tray, he had settled into her armchair, rather than on the couch. As she set her burden on the coffee-table, she had the feeling that she was being kept at arm’s length.
‘Well, now,’ she said, as she settled into the comfortable leather sofa, taking care not to crease her dress, ‘now you’ve sprung your surprise, Mr Luscomb, tell me what’s brought it about. Why are you in Edinburgh?’
‘I’ve come with my corporate executioner’s outfit, actually. A data-processing company out on the west side of the city has hit the buffers: you may have read about it in your local business press. Bit of a story: they were New Start of the Year not so long ago, in some pretentious magazine or other; now they’re calling in receivers with a view to liquidation. My firm’s got the job, and as one of the insolvency partners, I’m here to get it under way.’
‘I know who you mean,’ Alex murmured, as she sipped her cava. ‘We acted for them when they set up, then they left us; one of the directors has a cousin in another law firm who said he could do the job cheaper. Now their creditors are paying insolvency fees, and through the nose too, knowing what you lot charge.’
‘That’s business, Lexy my dear. I know I should shake my head and tut at such folly, but where would people like me be without people like them?’
‘Giving positive advice rather than picking up the pieces, perhaps?’
‘Ouch!’
She laughed. ‘It’s all right, this isn’t going to be Pick-on-Guy Night. I know there’s never going to be a world free of bad business decisions. I only wish they weren’t so costly, in human as well as financial terms. The cousin I mentioned has been fired by his firm in the wake of all this. He’s thirty-eight and his career’s on the way to Seafield.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Sorry. That’s an old Edinburgh expression.’
‘Ahh, as in down the toilet, I take it.’
‘You hit that flush on.’
‘My, Lexy, you are in good form tonight.’
‘I’ve been better, but never mind. Let’s call a cab, and finish these while it’s on the way.’ She picked up the phone and pushed a single button: the taxi company number was programmed into the memory.
‘How long have you been in your new place?’ he asked, as they sipped the cava.
‘About a month.’
‘Is that all? You told me back in May that you’d bought it.’
‘It’s new, Guy: I chose it off plans in February. That gave me plenty of time to get rid of my old place.’
‘How’s the market here?’
‘Active. It’s not London, but it’s pricey.’ As she spoke, the buzzer sounded. She sealed the cava bottle with an airtight stopper, put it in the fridge, then fetched her coat from her bedroom.
Christmas was approaching and so Nargile was busy even though it was mid-week. They were shown to a table for two in the window, positioned so one diner could see the crest of Hanover Street, with its Georgian statue, and beyond, the lights of Edinburgh Castle. ‘You sit there, Guy,’ said Alex. ‘You’re the stranger in town.’
‘Thank you, Lexy dear. How very thoughtful of you.’
One more time, she thought, as the name ground on her. On the other hand, he is paying, and he’s not bad looking.
‘How long will you be here?’ she asked, as the waiter brought menus.
He glanced at the wine list and ordered a bottle of Muscadet. ‘Just a couple of days,’ he replied. ‘I got here yesterday. By Thursday the task will be mapped out; at that point I’ll leave my assistant to carry on with it, and head back south.’
That’s fine, she thought. ‘What a pity,’ she said.
‘Yes, and I’m really sorry about it, but we really are busy in London. It’s sad but true: third-term governments usually mean a bonanza for us insolvency practitioners.’
‘I can’t say I’d noticed that. Most of our corporate clients are doing really well. . thanks to the quality of our advice, no doubt.’
‘Naturally. However, if any of them do happen to have a hard time, or you hear of anyone who is, you’ll keep me in mind, won’t you? I’m also responsible for corporate recovery within the firm, remember.’
She looked at him across the table with a gleam in her eye, as he tasted the wine and as the waiter poured it. ‘Guy,’ she murmured, when he had gone, ‘this isn’t a new business pitch, is it? Will dinner be chargeable to the firm?’
He managed to look genuinely shocked. ‘God, Lexy, you don’t think that, do you?’
Too right I do. But she smiled, letting him off the hook, then raised her glass. ‘If I did, sunshine, I wouldn’t be settling for this when there’s Moët on the list.’ She took pity on his awkwardness. Okay, he was a clothes horse, and he fancied himself to death, but he was single, he wasn’t that bad, and after the few days she had endured, he was there. ‘Tell me something,’ she said. ‘When you chose this place, were you hoping for the same outcome as the last time we ate Turkish?’