‘If I’d come to you, and asked you what you thought, what would you have done?’
‘What you should have; hired Dun and Bradstreet or someone like them. Had a word with a couple of acquaintances. Sure, I’d probably have steered you away from it. But you’ll learn from this experience; you won’t make the same mistake again.’
‘No. But there are other bigger mistakes out there waiting for me. Not just in business either. Oz, I’m a rich girlie in a greedy man’s world. I might be devious, or manipulative if you like, and I might be ruthless, but I still get lonely, and in private, I still doubt myself.
‘I want you to be there for me, Oz. That’s all.’
I reached out and touched her face. ‘That’s easy. You’ve got it.’
‘Will you come on the board of the Gantry Group, as a non-executive director?’
I laughed again. ‘Fuck me, is that what all this is about? You’re offering me a seat on the board. I don’t know about that, Susie. I have no idea what my commitments are going to be for the next couple of years.’
‘There’ll be a salary involved, and shares, if you like.’
‘I’ll watch your back, but I won’t be paid for it. You don’t need to make me a director of anything.’
‘It’ll regularise things; it’ll give me an excuse to call you whenever I need you, without pissing off Prim.’
‘Okay,’ I conceded. ‘If that’s what you want, okay. Expenses only, though; no salary. And don’t worry about Prim. She doesn’t have a veto over what I do.’
She moved towards me, along the sofa. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered. ‘Now let me show you another kind of Glasgow kiss.’
Afterwards, we decided that we would cash in Susie’s raffle prize that night. As I had expected, El Roser II was busy, it being the end of the Christmas festival, but they managed to squeeze another table for two into a glazed overspill pavilion on the Passeig Maritim, in front of the main restaurant.
The King of Spain went there to eat fish; if that was good enough for him, who were we to disagree?
We started with an assortment of shellfish, then majored on a stew of hake, monkfish, and sea bass with a couple of langoustines added for the sake of appearance. To drink. . not part of the prize. . we selected a bottle of Faustino Rioja. There are several Faustinos, each one with a number. The lower the number, the higher the price; Susie insisted on buying, so I went for number one.
When it was over, and we had scraped the last of our crepes suzette off the plate. . what else could we have for dessert. . I picked up the empty bottle, and looked at the distinguished label, admiring it and wondering how I would look with a beard like that. Susie took my left hand in hers. ‘You do know that we’re sitting in a goldfish bowl here?’ she asked.
Our table was against one of the pavilion walls. I looked out, through the glass, at the Saturday night promenaders, young couples, older couples, families with children, as they walked along the Passeig.
‘Sure,’ I said, ‘but so what?’
‘You realise that when this movie comes out in Europe, and when it’s a hit, as it will be, this is how your life will be for evermore?’
‘I’ll make bloody sure that it isn’t,’ I promised. ‘Anyway, you’re overrating me.’
‘No I’m not. You’re a Brit in a Hollywood movie; you’re tabloid meat from now on. Paparazzi after you and all that stuff.’
‘I was cast by my brother-in-law, for God’s sake!’
‘Doesn’t matter. You said yourself, Miles is commercial first and nothing second. You’re fairly well known as it is from the wrestling stuff. Now you’re going to be famous, pursued, selling exclusive rights to the first baby pics and all that stuff.’
‘Rubbish. It won’t be that bad.’
She gleamed at me, out from under her eyelashes, raised my hand to her lips and kissed it, lightly. ‘Oh no?’ she whispered. ‘Then why is there a bloke photographing us right now?’
Instinctively, I snatched my hand away and looked round. Outside, on the pavement, no more than a few yards away from us, stood a man. He was wearing dark trousers and a heavy cotton jacket, with a hood pulled up over his head. The way the streetlight was hitting the glass walls of the restaurant annexe meant that I couldn’t make out his face. Anyway, most of it was covered by what looked like a large digital camera, and it was pointed unmistakably at Susie and me.
The man waited long enough to take one more shot, catching, no doubt, the surprise and anger on my face, then turned and ran off. Still I had no clear view of him. I started out of my chair, but he had disappeared into the crowd, and I knew right away that it was useless. As I sat down again, I was aware of one or two people looking at me, but mostly the thing had gone unnoticed.
‘How long was he there?’ I asked her.
‘I don’t know. I was only aware of him when the people outside thinned out a bit. But it’s not as if we were necking or anything. Get used to it, though, love. That’s what it’s going to be like from now on. “Smile please, Oz. Gie’s your autograph, Oz.” You’ll have a fan club, you’ll have a website. Soon as this movie comes out.’
‘You reckon?’ I growled. ‘You think that was just some mark who recognised me from the telly?’
‘Who else could it have been?’
I looked at her. She wasn’t kidding; it hadn’t dawned on her. ‘I might never be able to prove it,’ I told her, ‘but it could have been Steve Miller.’
She gave a small gasp of surprise. ‘You think so? I’d have thought he’d never come near you again after what you did to him.’
‘Who else, then?’
‘Another of Prim’s cast-offs?’
‘I only know one of them, and another by sight. It wasn’t Fortunato, and it wasn’t that waiter bloke.’
‘Then chances are it was a punter. Anyway, you said it yourself. If it was Miller, you’ll never prove it. So forget it. Let’s go home.’
Susie settled what there was of the bill and we stepped out into the cold, crisp night; she wore the coat which she had bought in Barcelona, and I had on my heaviest jacket. I thought that there was a chance that the photographer might still be hanging around, so, rather than walk straight along the Passeig to the spot where the Mercedes was parked, I led her in the other direction, round the side of El Roser II. We stopped at the small headland which looks across the great bay towards Ampuriabrava and Rosas.
We stood there for a while. Susie admired the twinkling lights on the other side; I pretended to do the same, but all the time I was glancing round, to see if we had been followed. If it was Miller, and if he was still there, a broken nose would be only the start.
But there was no one lurking, either with a camera or without. Eventually we walked on; past L’Olla and El Pescadors, two cheek-by-jowl restaurants which are open all year round, then back to the car.
Although I knew that there was no longer any threat to Susie, I bolted the doors automatically once we were home. ‘Nightcap?’ I asked.
‘Not that sort,’ Susie replied.
I felt accustomed to her being there with me, even though it had been less than three days. I knew that it was short term, an encounter, an adventure; but in its course my life, or at least my outlook on it, had changed dramatically. Old delusions had been swept aside and new truths had taken their place. I knew myself now, for sure, and I had my wee Glasgow provocateuse to thank, or blame, for it. I felt as if I would be ready to live in the real world again. . in a couple of days.
‘Come on then,’ I said. She was wearing the dress that she had worn to Shirley’s the night before. She undid a single catch at the one covered shoulder; it slid gently to her feet and she was naked. I lifted her clean out of her shoes and carried her upstairs, once again.
Our first night, or morning, had been sudden and violent, our second had been filled with my anger. Our third was different, it was gentle, warm, and assured. Maybe it was because we knew that it had to end, but we were terrific together. We knew what each other wanted, what to do, where to go. And, into the bargain, we fitted together, piston and cylinder precision-matched like a Formula One engine.