I could not have agreed more. But before I could say so, she had already left the subject behind. “How’s the car, by the way?”
I struggled to keep up with this change of tack. “Oh, it’s... I’ve got it back from the garage, at last.”
She beamed. “Have you? Oh good.” She was walking towards me. “And what about the insurance? Have you heard anything from them, yet?”
I made a conscious effort not to step back as she advanced. “No, not yet. But—”
“No, neither have I. I was on to them the day before yesterday, to give them a rocket. They’re quick enough to take the money from you, but when it comes to paying it out again they don’t want to know, do they?”
“No, I suppose not.” I held my ground as she stood in front of me. Her perfume was cloying and thick, not at all like the cleaner fragrance of Anna. At the thought, I remembered that she should be back any second. Almost desperate, I wondered how I could get rid of the stupid woman before then.
“I managed to get the dolls’ house, by the way,” she said, while I was still wondering.
“The dolls’ house...?”
“From the auction. The one I saw you at.”
“Oh, I see... Oh, good.”
“Yes, I was quite pleased myself. I didn’t really expect to get it, but for once no one else seemed very interested. Well, not as interested as I was worried they would be, at least. It’s Victorian. Quite a beautiful little thing. In fact I’m by no means sure I want to sell it. It’s quite heartbreaking, sometimes, buying a piece you like only to have to sell it again. Still that’s what business is all about, isn’t it? I suppose you feel exactly the same way about some of your paintings.”
“Well, yes...” There were very few that appealed to me enough for me to want to keep them, but it was simpler to agree. I looked at my watch, hoping she would take the hint. It was already past the time when Anna should have returned.
“I’m sorry, I’m chattering away. Am I keeping you from your work?”
“Actually, I am expecting someone any second. A client.”
“Oh, I am sorry. You should have said.” She reached out and touched my arm as she apologised. I only just stopped myself from flinching away. “That’s my trouble. I’m a bit of a chatterbox. In case you haven’t noticed.” She laughed. “Anyway, I’ll not stay, I actually called in to see if I could treat you for lunch, or a coffee somewhere, but you’re obviously busy.”
Surprised, I was about to regretfully agree when the door opened again. I looked up. It was Anna.
She glanced at the woman and smiled a greeting.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“That’s all right.” I was suddenly very conscious of the woman’s presence. She had turned and was smiling across at Anna. Reluctantly, I was about to introduce them, when I realised I could not remember the woman’s name.
“Anna, there’s a catalogue on my desk. Could you fetch it for me, please?” It was the only thing I could think of to save me from the imminent social embarrassment.
She was hanging up her coat. “Yes, of course.” With another smile at the woman, she went upstairs.
“That’s my assistant,” I said, needlessly.
“Pretty girl.” Again, she touched my arm. “Anyway, I’d better be getting off. I don’t want to be here when your client arrives. Next time I’m going to be in the city, I’ll give you a ring, shall I? Perhaps we can manage a coffee or something when you’ve more time.”
“Yes, of course.” I was prepared to say anything to be rid of her. I began to walk her to the door. She stopped in the doorway and offered me her hand.
“Nice seeing you again. And I do like the gallery, by the way. Very impressive.”
I smiled and said something or other in the way of thank you. Then, finally, she left. I closed the door, resisting the impulse to lock and bolt it behind her. As I went back into the gallery Anna was coming downstairs.
“I can’t find any catalogue on your desk, Donald. Are you sure it’s there?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’ll look for it later.”
“Was that a client?”
“Hardly. She’s the woman who ran into my car.”
“I thought you looked a bit flustered. Is everything okay?”
“Now she’s gone, yes. She offered to take me out for lunch.”
Anna raised her eyebrows. “Really?” She smiled. “Could be she wants more than just insurance.”
I felt a jolt of alarm. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re an eligible bachelor.”
I could feel blood rush into my cheeks. “Oh no, I don’t think it’s anything like that. No, I’m sure... oh, no.”
Anna was grinning. “Well, you never know. Is she married?”
“She must be, she has children.”
“Ah, but has she mentioned a husband?”
I thought back. I could not remember her saying anything about him. Anna laughed.
“Don’t look so horrified, Donald, I’m only kidding.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing like that.”
“No, I know. I was only kidding. Really.” She made a visible effort to stop smiling. I decided to change the subject, and with a start remembered where she had been.
“Nice lunch?” I asked.
“Yes, thanks.”
I waited for more, but she said nothing else. I tried to think of a way to sound her out further, but could not think of anything that did not sound suspicious. “I’ll be in the office,” I said.
I went back upstairs. I had told Zeppo to telephone me as soon as he could. I sat down behind my desk and waited for his call. The telephone rang almost immediately. I snatched it up.
“Hello?”
It was a customer. Struggling to hide my impatience, I dealt with the enquiry as quickly as I decently could and hung up. I waited again. Zeppo’s interpretation of ‘as soon as possible’ was apparently different to mine. It was almost an hour later before he called.
“How did it go?” I asked, breathlessly.
“I’ll tell you tonight.”
“But—”
“I’ll be at your place at seven.”
“Zeppo—!” I almost shouted, and heard a click as the connection was cut.
I banged down the receiver in frustration. I did not know what to think. It did not seem promising, but Zeppo was quite capable of tormenting me just for the fun of it. I picked up the telephone again and tried his number. There was no answer. He had either not called from home, or else he was ignoring me. Whichever, there was nothing I could do about it. I would have to wait until that evening.
I took two more indigestion tablets.
Chapter Seven
The rest of the day was awful. It was an afternoon when everything seemed to take spiteful pleasure in going wrong. My accountants called to tell me they had lost half of my records when their computer crashed. Shortly after that I discovered that a prospective customer had died, and would therefore not be collecting the water colour he had bought only two days before. Furthermore, a full refund would be appreciated, his daughter, a mercenary-minded young harpy, informed me. And to cap the day off, my pen leaked in my jacket pocket, creating an indelible blue stain the size of a fifty-pence piece.
My stomach burned, irritably. Even the fact that Anna wore only a thin shirt, tantalisingly hinting at the shape of her breasts, failed to improve matters. Normally I could have watched her indefinitely, but right then, not knowing what had happened between her and Zeppo, the sight only tormented me.
I decided enough was enough and closed early, stopping off at the chemists for a stronger stomach treatment on the way home. I cooked myself a bland meal of scrambled eggs, washed the dishes, and was just wondering what to do next to pass the time when the doorbell rang. I looked at my watch. It was only half-past six. Much too soon for Zeppo. I went to the front door and opened it.