I said, ‘You don’t have to be nice to me. I want the job.’
She stepped forward, and I thought she was going to hit me, then she laughed. A deep down and dirty one. The best kind.
Then she said,
‘Sarah mentioned you’d been in jail. What are you, a thief?’
With more edge than I intended, I said,
‘I’m not a thief.’
‘Oh dear, have I hit a nerve? Have I violated some convict code of ethics?’
This was delivered in a dramatic voice. As if she was on stage.
I’d learn that she was never off it. I said,
‘I was in a fight, it got out of hand.’
Closing the topic, she said,
‘There’ll be no fighting here.’
From out of left field, I felt a flash of desire. I couldn’t believe it. My body was responding to her. She gave a knowing smile and I didn’t want to analyse that. No way. She said,
‘We’ll give you a week’s trial. Jordan will set your duties.’
She went to the door, stopped, said,
‘If you absolutely must steal an item, take that disgusting ashtray.’
And she was gone.
I followed Jordan outside to the garage. More like an airplane hanger. The first thing I noticed was a car, up on blocks. I gave a low whistle, asked,
‘Is that what I think it is?’
‘Yes, it is.’
I tried to place his accent, ventured,
‘Are you German?’
‘Hungarian.’
He swept his arm round the garage, said,
‘Everything you could possibly need is here.’
Tools
Overalls
Ladders
Paint.
I thought that was good, said,
‘Good.’
He indicated a chart on the wall, said,
‘This is your timetable.’
‘What?’
‘Madam likes everything compartmentalised.’
It took him a while to get that last word but I stayed on it and got his drift, said,
‘Piecemeal.’
He pointed to the chart, said,
‘Please examine it.’
I did.
Monday — Painting
Tuesday — Gutters
Wednesday — Roof
Thursday — Windows
Friday — Patio
I pretended to be interested, as if it made any sense. I said,
‘And Saturday party down.’
He ignored that, said,
‘You will arrive promptly at seven-thirty. You’ll partake of a light breakfast. Work will commence at eight sharp. At eleven you will have a tea break, twenty minutes. At one, you’ll have lunch for one hour. You will cease work at four sharp.’
I wanted to snap off a Hitler salute, shout,
‘Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.’
Instead I asked,
‘Does she work now?’
‘Madam is resting.’
‘Jeez, from those posters, she’s been resting for thirty years.’
‘She is awaiting the right vehicle.’
I nodded at the Rolls Royce, said,
‘That should do the job.’
Any reply he might have made was lost as a van drove up. On the side was
An overweight man climbed out. Took him a while due to the weight he was carrying. He was wearing overalls and a baseball cap. A dirty baseball cap with ‘LEE’ barely decipherable.
He ambled over, nodded to Jordan, looked at me, asked,
‘Who’s the gobshite?’
Jordan said, ‘Mr Lee, you are no longer employed here. I thought I made that clear.’
Lee waved his hand in dismissal, said,
‘Lighten up, Jord. The old bat in there doesn’t know who’s here. I’m not about to let a good thing go.’
Jordan sighed, said,
‘You have already been replaced, Mr Lee. I must ask that you leave.’
Lee laughed, said,
‘You run along Jord... git us a cup o’ tea, two sugars, I’ll sort out this geezer.’
Then he moved towards me. Jordan moved faster and delivered two lightning jabs to Lee’s stomach. I’d barely time to register it wasn’t his fist, open palmed. Lee sank to his eyes, groaning, whined,
‘Whatcha do that for?’
Jordan stood over him and, with both hands, slammed Lee’s ears.
I said,
‘That’s gotta hurt.’
Then Jordan helped Lee to the van, bundled him in. After a few minutes, the engine turned and he drove slowly away. Jordan turned back to me, asked,
‘Is Monday suitable to begin?’
‘You bet.’
I lit a roll-up as I walked down the drive. Got to the gate and looked back. The house seemed dead. I began to head for Notting Hill. Halfway down was Lee’s van. He was leaning against it, massaging his stomach. As I drew alongside he said,
‘I want a word with you, pal.’
‘Okay.’
‘I didn’t get your name.’
‘No.’
He squared up. I noticed his ears were scarlet. He said,
‘You don’t want to fuck with me, pal.’
‘Why not?’
‘What are you, a smart ass?’
‘A smart ass with a job — sorry — with your job.’
He couldn’t decide which way to go, settled for verbal, said,
‘If you know what’s good for you, pal, you’ll stay away.’
I made a playful feint to his stomach but didn’t actually touch him, said,
‘You’re gonna have to cut down on them burgers, Lee.’
I walked away. I could hear him muttering the length of Ladbroke Grove. All in all, I kinda liked old Lee. In the nick, they’d have turned him out in a week.
When I got back to Clapham I could feel the effect Lillian Palmer had on me. I figured it was time I got laid. Went into a phone booth and scanned the cards on display. Every sexual need was catered for. I decided on the following:
Yeah.
I rang and set a time. Yup, she could see me now. The address was in Streatham. As I headed there, I swear I felt nervous.
After three years, you wonder how it’s gonna be.
Found the building and rang the top bell. Got buzzed in, walked up two flights of stairs. Knocked on the door. A guy in his thirties came out. I said,
‘Jeez, I hope you’re not Tanya.’
‘Fifty quid in advance.’
I paid and he asked,
‘Need anything else — weed, uppers, downers?’
I shook my head. He stepped aside, and I went in. A woman was sitting down dressed in a slip, stockings and suspenders. She wasn’t in her twenties, or busty or beautiful.
She said,
‘Would you like a drink?’
Not South American either. I said,
‘Sure.’
‘Scotch?’
‘Lovely.’
I watched her as she got the drink. A nice bod — I could feel desire returning. Not wild excitement but getting there.
I took the drink, said,
‘Cheers.’
She stood in front of me, said,
‘No kinky stuff, no kissing, no bondage.’
What could I say, I said,
‘No kidding.’
I followed her into the bedroom. The radio was playing The Eagles with ‘Desperado’. If ‘My Way’ is the anthem of chauvinists, then ‘Desperado’ is the rationalisation of convicts. She handed me a condom as she lay back on the bed.
It was quick.
She indicated the bathroom, said,
‘You can clean up in there.’