She gave me that smile, promising nothing.
I’d just started back down New Road when a car beeped me.
The window goes down, it’s Jeff.
‘Mitch, I been looking for you mate.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Hop in, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Just to the Oval, I’m parked there.’
I get in and he accelerates. The skels outside just a blur in the speed. He says,
‘I need a favour, mate.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Two days time we go north.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Two of the crew are down. Gerry’s gone and broken his leg, Jack’s missus is in the hospital.’
‘Can’t you postpone?’
‘Last two excursions had to be shelved. It’s tough being a villain and a family man.’
‘And you’re asking me what, Jeff?’
‘To fill out the crew.’
Thing with mates is, you don’t make them sweat it.
Yes or no.
I said,
‘Yes.’
‘Oh cheers mate. Monday morning at my place... eight-thirty.’
As I got outta the car, he said,
‘Be good to have you along, Mitch.’
‘It’s no big thing.’
That’s what I thought.
As I walked up the Holland Park drive, I noticed the lights were off. Thank Christ, I thought. Having to hop on the actress was about as appealing as a prison breakfast.
I was about to go to my room when I noticed a light in the kitchen. Thought — ‘why not?’
Jordan was sitting at the kitchen table in his shirt-sleeves, a stone bottle before him. I said,
‘Yo.’
He looked up, said, ‘Join me.’
‘ ’Kay.’
I’d never seen him without a jacket. I could see his arms were brown, heavily muscled. He motioned for me to get a glass.
I did. He tilted the bottle, poured me a full one, said,
‘It’s Jenever, Dutch gin.’
We clinked glasses, muttered something that sounded like ‘skol’ and drank them off in one toss. By Jesus, did that kick. A moment of grace, then wallop, your stomach was blitzkreiged. My eyes watered. I gasped,
‘Phew.’
He nodded, said, ‘Again?’
‘Of course.’
After I recovered from the double shammy, I began to roll a cig. He said,
‘May I have one?’
‘Whoa... what about the rules?’
‘Fuck them.’
I handed him one, lit it, said,
‘Now you’re talking.’
He drew deep, not his first time. Here was a guy reared on smoke. I asked,
‘How’s Madam?’
‘Expecting her call to the theatre.’
‘Jeez! I mean, that ain’t going to go down. What then?’
He looked pained. Drunk too, but mainly pained. Said,
‘I’ll think of something, I always do.’
I was feeling the booze, enough to ask,
‘What’s the deal, why do you stay?’
He seemed amazed, said,
‘It’s my life.’
Didn’t elaborate, so I tried more.
‘Didn’t you used to be her husband?’
My knowing didn’t faze him, said,
‘I still am.’
Then he spread his hands on the table, focused on me.
‘Before her I was nothing. She is the beat of my heart.’
I figured we were two guys well pissed, so go for it. I asked,
‘But... doesn’t she, you know... like see other guys?’
He spat on the floor, made a sound that went,
‘Ph... tt... h.’
Then,
‘They are nothing — playthings she discards like rubbish. I am constant.’
There was a trace of spittle on his lips and his eyes were fevered. I considered he might not be playing with a full deck. I eased down, said,
‘You sure take care of her.’
He waved his hands in dismissal. I downed more gin, asked,
‘Ever hear a duet from Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood called “In Another’s Eyes”?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t listen to music much, eh?’
‘There is only Wagner.’
I don’t think there’s a sane reply to this. Leastways, I didn’t have it.
Then he did the oddest thing. Stood up, bowed, said,
‘I enjoyed our talk but now I must secure the house.’
I got up, not sure should I shake his hand or not. I said,
‘Thanks for the drink.’
I’d just got to the door when he said,
‘Mr Mitchell, if you are ever in trouble, I will be available.’
‘Oh.’
‘I am a valuable ally.’
As I headed for bed, I didn’t doubt that for a minute.
I tried to watch TV for a bit; I was having double vision.
I must have been very drunk as I thought Ally McBeal wasn’t bad.
Friday, I figured if I was bank-robbing on Monday, then I better get some R & R.
I rang Aisling, she said,
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a guy thing. When they say “I’ll call”, you don’t hold your breath.’
‘Okay... so, can I take you out?’
‘Oh yes, I have a plan.’
‘Nothing better than a plan.’
‘Can you pick me up at the Angel tube at eight-thirty?’
‘Islington?’
‘Is that bad?’
‘It’s north.’
‘So?’
‘No... I can do north.’
‘See you later.’
I did a full day’s work:
repaired a door
cleaned the windows
whistled some tunes.
Come evening, Jordan laid a wedge of cash on me. He said,
‘Madam would like a word.’
‘Sure, listen... I need Monday free.’
‘Don’t make a habit of it.’
All the camaraderie of the night before seemed to have evaporated.
But I noticed his eyes were bloodshot. Teach him to guzzle gin.
Madam was waiting in the dining room. She was looking good. The battalion of
hairdressers
beauticians
physiotherapists
had done their work. Her skin and eyes glowed. She was wearing a cream low cut dress, her skin lightly tanned. Great logo.
I felt stirrings. The body is a bastard, it just does its own thing. Lillian gave the knowing smile, said,
‘You must be all hot and sweaty after your toil.’
I gave a noncommittal shrug. She said,
‘We’re going out this evening, I’ve booked a table at the Savoy.’
‘Not me, babe.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I’ve got other plans.’
‘Well cancel them. It’s time I was seen in public.’
‘Have fun but I won’t be with you.’
‘How do you expect me to appear unaccompanied? I must have an escort.’
‘Try the Yellow Pages.’
She just couldn’t believe I was refusing her, she shouted,
‘I will not be denied.’
I gave her the hard look, said,
‘Jeez, get real lady.’
and walked out. I could hear her screaming,
‘I didn’t dismiss you, come back here!’
Jordan, of course, appeared and before he could speak, I said,
‘She’s rehearsing, don’t disturb her.’
As I showered I thought — ‘She is one royal pain in the ass.’
Little did I know.
After I showered, I cracked a brewski and got dressed. Kept it casual. Sweatshirt and jeans. My nose was still aching but I could live with it. Gant was hovering on the outskirts of my mind. The mental threads one makes are tenuous and treacherous. Of all the things, I dredged up a line from ‘101 Dalmations’.
What?
It’s not about hatred, it’s about absolute devastation.