He selected the only one that wasn’t coloured, swallowing the shot whole and not flinching as it raged down his throat and filled his head with the fruity chemical aromas of esters. At once revolting and liberating. Anything to keep the dreariness of the night at bay. He declined the offer of more, noticing that all three were invalids of some sort, the woman with a cloudy eye, the Armenian subject to an involuntary tremor, the Chinese with a pancake burn scar at the side of his neck and an ear that looked melted into his skull. All of them were in their forties, too worn out to be of use elsewhere.
They dropped him in front of the Barracks, the Saxon swiftly consumed by the fog as it drove away. Owain climbed the stains, feeling light-headed. Not that he was hungry; he’d gone beyond it He felt as if he were floating, a ghost drifting through the featureless limbo of some eerie afterlife.
His door key was gone from the ledge. He checked the windows: the blackout blinds were down. The door was unlocked, but as he eased it open it came to rest against the security chain.
He could feel the warmth seeping out. There was the merest hint of a familiar scent from within.
He felt an irrational urge to kick the door open, to pretend he didn’t know who was inside. To scare her. But he suppressed it and merely called in the loudest whisper he could muster: “Marisa!”
There was no immediate response. He called again, raising his voice a little, tempted once more to announce his arrival by hammering on the knocker. A dim light filled the hallway, and seconds later he saw her fingers fumbling with the chain, heard her saying his name.
As usual she wore a black dress more suited to the summer. Her hair had been trimmed, styled into a bob whose inward arcs were like commas punctuating the soft curves of her cheeks.
She immediately embraced him, pressing herself into his chest, her fingertips scrambling along the ridges of his collarbones.
“You’re back,” she said, her head in the crook of his neck.
It was the most wholehearted greeting she’d ever given him. But Owain was peering beyond her, looking down the hallway, wanting to be sure tha she had come alone. The living room door hung open, a single white cup visible on the arm of the empty sofa. No sign of anyone else.
Owain smiled to himself and said, “What an unexpected surprise.”
“Ouch!” Tanya cried, pulling her hand back from the edge of her plate, almost slopping a spoonful of black bean sauce on the carpet.
“They’re hot,” I said redundantly. “I overdid them in the microwave.”
I pulled the cork on the wine and poured out two glasses while Tanya spooned food on to our plates. She’d insisted on showering when she returned and was wrapped in her cream towelling robe. Nothing else. I’d had the heat on full all day and the house was baking.
She passed me my tray and I handed her a glass of wine. We were perched opposite one another on the big sofa with a cushion’s space between us.
“Any calls?” she asked.
“Only Rees.”
“So how was he?”
“How do you tell? He was pretty buoyant, but that could be the rise before the fall. He claims he has a new girlfriend. Keisha. Wants us all to meet up.”
“That would be good.”
“You believe him?”
“Depends on who shows up, doesn’t it?”
“My family,” I said with a weary fatalism. “One basket case after another.”
Tanya grinned at me and swallowed a mouthful of rice. “You’re not so bad. I’ve seen worse.”
I could tell she’d had a few drinks: she was slightly flushed and her eyes had a loose, relaxed look. She took another mouthful of her dinner.
“Have you spoken to Geoff?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“He hasn’t rung here.” Id made a point of checking the messages, just in case I’d missed one.
She just shrugged and kept on eating, looking at the TV, some sketch show. As if it didn’t matter. As if all that mattered was the here and now.
“You’ve had a drink,” Marisa said, a half-question that contained both surprise and amusement.
“It was my birthday,” Owain replied.
She looked puzzled. “Really, Owain?”
“No. I just fell into bad company.”
She passed him a cup of coffee, replenished her own and sat down on the sofa, tucking her bare feet underneath her. Her boots were outside in the hallway. How effortlessly she d made herself at home.
“One of the night patrols,” Owain said. “They gave me a slug of engine fuel.”
Plainly perplexed by his levity, she said, “Aren’t you going to take your jacket off?”
He’d flung himself into the armchair on entering, was sitting facing her.
“In a minute,” he said. “I thought you were on holiday.”
“We came back early. It was as I said it would be. Two days in Lisbon. Carl was in meetings. Always there was something pressing.”
“I saw him on TV. Peace talks, was it?”
“I’ve never known him so severe. I think perhaps this time it is serious. He only said that all leave is being cancelled. Do you know what is happening, Owain?”
It was finally dawning. How subtle she was. And what a fool he had been.
“Perhaps there’s going to be a big parade,” he said.
Her quizzical look became a frown. “Is something wrong?”
“That’s just what I was wondering. How long have you been waiting for me?”
“A few hours. Giselle did not know your whereabouts. So I thought I would wait.”
“Won’t Carl be worried?”
“He told me not to expect to see him tonight.”
“Very convenient.” Owain swallowed a belch and loosened his jacket. “In that case you’re free to spend the night here, aren’t you?”
The frown was now serious. “Something is wrong, Owain. What is it?”
“You tell me.”
He saw her afresh, as someone whose innocent veneer was the perfect cover for something more sinister and predatory. Legister’s whore, sent by him for the purpose of extracting information. The insight was oddly liberating.
“Has something happened?” Marisa asked anxiously.
“How would I know?” he replied. “I’m just an aide.”
“Now you’re frightening me,” she said. “Something has happened. Is that why you are drunk?”
“Not drunk. Loose. Chasing phantoms.”
She didn’t pick up on this. “What is it? Tell me.”
“Nothing to tell.” He shrugged off his jacket and sat down beside her on the sofa.
“More wine?” Tanya asked, waving the bottle.
“I haven’t finished this one.”
“Lost your appetite?”
“Not for some things.”
I picked up the trays and took them out to the kitchen. When I returned Tanya was using the remote to channel-hop. Finally she blanked the screen.
The half-light accentuated her beauty. As I knelt down in front of her to retrieve the lid from one of the cartons, I could see one of her breasts pouched in the folds of her gown. I brought my head up. She was smiling at me. I pushed my mouth on hers.
Marisa drew back as Owain pressed himself against her but she didn’t try to wriggle away. He began kissing her on the lips, his hands on her bare upper arms as he insinuated his legs between hers. Tanya responded without inhibition, pulling me on to her. I lost myself in our kissing, forcing her mouth open, forcing my tongue between her teeth, feeling her beginning to twist, to move around and give me a better position.