I no longer had any interest in being a host.
I tried unsuccessfully to contact Zeppo all morning, but there was no reply. Even so, when he finally telephoned me in the afternoon, I was too eager to hear what he had to say to complain.
He sounded pleased with himself. “There’s good news and bad news. The bad is that Angie drew a blank with Mr. Universe.”
“You mean Marty?”
“That was the idea, wasn’t it?”
Disappointment welled up in me. “But I thought you said she was going to try for a week. Isn’t she giving up rather easily?”
“You don’t know Angie. If she thinks there’s any chance at all, she doesn’t give up until she’s torn their trousers off. So if she reckons it’s no go, then it must be.”
“Perhaps she made the wrong approach.”
“Not Angie. Believe me, Donald, she knows what she’s doing. He just didn’t want to know. Very polite, and all that, but he still blanked her out. She was pretty pissed off about it. She’s not used to being turned down, let alone by a geek like him. She thinks he must be either gay or some kind of freak.”
There was an even more depressing prospect. I remembered the way Marty had kissed Anna’s neck. “Perhaps he’s just loyal to Anna.”
“That’s what I meant by freak. He must be even more of a sap than he looks to turn down something like that. I know Anna’s not bad, but she’s hardly in Angie’s league.”
I agreed wholeheartedly, but not in the way Zeppo meant. I had found the other girl’s beauty brash and glittering; entirely external. Anna’s was something far finer.
“You said there was good news as well.”
A low chuckle came over the line. “The good news is that Angie makes a great slave.”
“She’s not there, is she?”
“Calm down, Donald. She’s in another room. She can’t hear.”
I tried to hold down my irritation. “Is that all you meant by “good news”?”
“Now don’t get agitated.”
“Just tell me what happened between you and Anna.”
“Nothing actually happened. I was only testing the ground. But she was putting out the right sort of signals.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. The only snag is the boyfriend. If not for him I would’ve made a move last night. As it is, I’ll just have to ease my way in a bit more first.”
“But you don’t think you’ll have too much difficulty?”
He laughed. “Donald, look at him, and look at me. There’s your answer.”
His confidence was reassuring, if a little irksome. “How long do you think it will take?”
“I’ve already told you it’s not the sort of thing you can set to a timetable. I’ll just have to see how it goes. There’s no rush, is there?”
I hesitated. He had to know sooner or later. “Actually, there is.” I told him about America.
I heard him swear. “Why didn’t you tell me before, for Christ’s sake?”
I was taken aback by his tone. “I only just found out myself,” I said, annoyed by my own defensiveness. “But if it’s not for two months, I can’t see that it matters. It should still give you plenty of time, surely.”
“That’s not the fucking point!” He stopped. When he spoke again his voice was more controlled. “I just don’t like having things sprung on me. Is there anything else I should know?”
There was. But he did not need to know it just then. Particularly not if he was going to take that attitude. “No. Do you think you’ll have enough time?”
I heard him breathe a long sigh. “Yeah. I expect so. But I like to know exactly where I stand. So in future, no secrets, all right?”
“Of course.” I could hear what sounded like a dog barking in the background.
“Hang on.” Something was put over the receiver. The line became muffled. “Sorry about that,” he said, a moment later. There was a laugh in his voice. “Where were we?”
“I was about to ask what you propose to do next?” The laugh became more pronounced. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I’ll call you next week. Don’t worry. Once I’ve got her softened up she’ll not want to look at the wimp she’s going out with.”
He hung up before I could say anything. I put the receiver down with mixed feelings. I was beginning to have my doubts about Zeppo. But I could not help but share his optimism.
Chapter Four
Since becoming involved with Anna, I had found it increasingly difficult to apply myself with any real enthusiasm to the affairs of the gallery. Even auctions, which I had once always enjoyed, seemed to have lost their appeal. When I went to one the week after the party, I was apathetic to start with. Had I known who would also be there, however, I would never have gone in the first place.
The auction was of part of the estate of an elderly politician. It included his collection of eighteenth-century French oils, one of which in particular I had my eye on. So, unfortunately, did several other people. When the bidding approached the limit I had set myself, I had to choose whether or not it was worth going any further. At one time, only weeks before, I would probably have decided it was. Now it seemed like too much trouble. I sat back and let the bidding go on without me, and felt only mild regret when it stopped shortly afterwards.
There were one or two other pieces I had been considering trying for, but all at once I could not be bothered. I eased my way along the line of chairs towards the exit. The back of the room was full with people who had not found seats, and as I went through them I felt a tap on my arm.
“It’s Mr. Ramsey, isn’t it?”
The woman was a little younger than me. Her hair was just starting to grey, and her eyes were magnified by a pair of large-framed glasses. She was smiling, hesitantly.
“Yes?”
Her smile grew. “Oh, good. I thought it was.”
I continued to stare at her. I had no idea who she was. “I’m sorry, I don’t...”
“Oh, it’s these things.” She took the glasses off. It made no difference. “Margaret Thornby. You ran into my car last week.”
Then, of course, I recognised her. “Oh,” was all I could think of to say.
“I spotted you coming out, but I wasn’t entirely certain it was you until just now.” She lowered her voice as the auctioneer began introducing the next item. “Shall we pop outside? We can’t really talk in here.”
I had no desire to talk to her anywhere. But she was already edging into the corridor. I had no option but to follow.
“There. That’s better.” She smiled at me. I did not return it. I had belatedly realised that she had again blamed me for the accident, albeit in a much friendlier tone this time. “I’m glad I’ve seen you, actually. I’ve been wondering how you went on after our little bump last week.”
She was unaccountably pleasant. “My car had to be towed away,” I told her, rather more stiffly than I intended. “The wing needs to be replaced. I’m still using a courtesy car.”
“Oh, I am sorry. Mine only needed the sidelight replacing, so it could have been worse.”
I said nothing.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you,” she went on. “When I’d calmed down a bit I realised that I might have been a bit... well, a bit pushy. Not that I’m saying it was my fault, or anything. But I think I might have gone a bit over the top.”
An apology was not what I had expected. I was unsure how to react. However, she did not give me any chance.
“The thing was, I was in an awful rush. I was supposed to be meeting someone, you see, and I was late already. I don’t come into the city very often, and whenever I do as a rule I always avoid the rush hour. But I was meeting my son at the train station he’s just got back from India, or rather he had just got back so there was no avoiding it. I was hoping to get there in plenty of time, because I didn’t want to leave him standing around in the cold, after he’s been used to the hot weather. But I misjudged it, and instead of getting there for half-past eight, as I’d planned, I was still stuck in the traffic at a quarter-past. So when we had our little accident, it was the last straw, and I suppose I did rather take it out on you.”