I turned back the duvet on Prim’s side of the bed, laid her down and undressed her. As I tossed her knickers on to the pile of clothing on the floor, she came half awake. ‘Get in?’ she murmured, half request, half question. I realised that I was tired too.
I hadn’t been sure of the time we’d gone to sleep, but when I came back to the surface, it was just after five in the evening. The fresh air from the open window was overcoming the heating, and the room felt chilly. I got up to close it, then wakened Prim, not wanting her to sleep so long that she’d be awake all night.
She smiled at me, and I felt sorry about our confrontation. I couldn’t have handled it worse, and I knew it. ‘Hi,’ she whispered. ‘How are things?’
‘My thing’s fine. How’s your thing?’
She laughed and opened her arms to me. ‘Missing your thing. Come here.’
I had been half afraid that it would have been different; it wasn’t. Well it was, different from Susie, that is, but I forced myself to look on her as a closed chapter in my life. With Prim it was as good as ever, with maybe, even, an added touch of wickedness. ‘One size fits all, indeed,’ I whispered in her ear as I thrust into her. ‘Poor bastard, that’s all he knows.’
We showered together and dressed, then realised how hungry we were. I made a sandwich to keep us going, we watched some television, then at around eight we drove into L’Escala for a pizza in La Dolce Vita, up there in a window seat watching the traffic. We had just been presented with two pizza sorpresas when Prim glanced outside, then did a double take. I followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at a Lotus Elise with British plates, its top open even in January. The driver was jammed behind the wheel, wearing a heavy jacket, and distinguishable by a white plaster over his nose. I didn’t know whether he had seen us or not, but, sure as hell, I didn’t wave.
‘Just think,’ I said, with a certain amount of acid in my tone, but not enough to spoil the taste of the pizzas, ‘if you had played your cards right, all that could have been yours.’
‘I’ll stick to the Mercedes, thanks,’ my wife replied, with a smile which made me decide that whatever I knew about her, I would do my best to forget it.
‘It’s a pity about Susie,’ she murmured, a little later, after we had found and dealt with the surprises in our pizzas. ‘I’d have liked to have seen her. Just why did she go home, Oz?’
I was sure that the question was completely straight; that no suspicion lay behind it.
‘I told you, she felt awkward. After the thing with Miller yesterday, she got scared that people might start to gossip about us.’
‘You took her to the party?’
‘Of course. We had dinner at Shirley’s on Friday; she suggested it.’
‘I’m not surprised she went, then, after what you did to poor Steve.’
I frowned at her, not in jest at all, even if she thought it was. ‘You call him poor Steve again and you and I will have another row. I was protecting your tattered reputation, remember.’
She made a face at me; just like the old times. ‘Thank you, sir. But what did Susie say?’
‘Nothing. She was a bit surprised that good old Oz could have done such a thing, and that I was so good with the head; but then, I’ve been coached by professionals.
‘Actually, there was another reason why she went home. It has to do with a piece of business out here that’s gone sour on her.’ I filled her in on the Castelgolf fiasco, and on its resolution. Naturally, I said nothing about her other misadventure.
‘That’s terrible,’ Prim exclaimed. ‘Two million down the toilet!’
‘Probably so. They might trace the money, but it’s touch and go. The man Fowler will be under deep cover by now; they’ve more chance of finding Lord Lucan than him.’
‘I’m really surprised,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that Susie’d have fallen for a scam like that.’
‘Both her partners were heavy hitters, apparently. I think that helped to persuade her. Anyway, it was an investment; some pay off, others crash. As for the amount, it would be a disaster to you and me, but not to her. She’s still rolling in it.’
‘That’s good, at least.’ She paused. ‘How is she, though, Oz? Is she still broken up about Mike?’
‘She’s better now,’ I told her, truthfully. ‘She’s got herself a new goal in life. She’s made it in business, now she’s after a titled husband to help her climb the social ladder.’
Prim looked at me, incredulous. ‘Susie said that?’
‘Yup.’
‘That’ll be the day. Susie Gantry’s a Glasgow girl through and through, and proud of it. The idea of her in the drawing rooms of Mayfair. . No, she had to be kidding you.’
‘I don’t think so. Susie’s out for herself now; she’s through with sharing. She wants a husband only as a necessary part of having a couple of kids. When she goes shopping for one it’ll be in Harrods, not M amp;S, and there are plenty of exhereditaries around with an eye to the main chance, now that they can’t hang around the House of Lords, drawing money for the privilege of being privileged.’
‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’ She paused as a waiter brought two cappuccinos. It was a different bloke from the guy who had served us until then. I recognised him; I hadn’t seen him in La Dolce Vita before, but he had come up in conversation at Shirley’s a couple of nights before. He gave Prim what was meant to be a knowing smile. She frosted him out, completely.
‘Change of subject,’ she said briskly, as if he had never been there. ‘My brother-in-law said I should ask you how you’re getting on with that script. Next month is drawing nearer, my darling, when you learn to become a real actor.’
What the hell does she think I am now? I wondered.
28
Prim was up and about before me next morning. Her half of the bed was empty, not even warm, when I awoke. I rose and stumbled downstairs a few minutes later, showered but unshaven. . I had decided that if I was an actor, then I might as well look like one.
As I shambled into the kitchen, in search of cornflakes and coffee, I heard the phone being replaced.
‘Who was that?’ I asked Prim.
She gave me a slightly guilty look. ‘I phoned Veronique,’ she admitted. ‘I wanted to know how your girl was.’
‘You didn’t suggest that she give her a job did you?’
‘No I did not. If you must know, I thought I’d quite like to meet her. I’m too late though. You’ll be pleased to hear that Ramon’s taking her down to Barcelona this morning. The Filipinos have arranged her return home.’
I was mildly surprised. ‘That was quick,’ I said as Prim vanished through to the living area. ‘I thought it would have taken a week at least, not forty-eight hours.’
I filled the percolator, put it on the hob and filled a couple of bowls with cereal. Then, as soon as the coffee was ready, I poured two mugs, put the lot on a tray, with a large jug of milk and carried it through.
Prim was sitting on the smaller of the two sofas, with her back to me as I came into the big room. I put the tray on the coffee table, ‘Dig in,’ I said, glancing at her. She looked back at me with narrowed eyes. Her mouth was a slit. I had never seen her face like that before, never in my life. Then I saw the envelope on the floor; A4 brown manila, with ‘Prim’, printed on the outside in big, bold letters.
She was leaning forward slightly, obscuring the papers on her lap. Then she seized them and thrust them at me, furiously. I took them from her.
They were photographs; of me, and of Susie Gantry. The first had a matt finish, and I guessed it had been taken by a digital camera then run off from a computer through a colour printer. It showed the two of us, in Roser Dos; Susie was holding my left hand to her lips, kissing it lightly. The second had been processed conventionally. It had been taken with a telephoto lens at Barcelona Airport, a perfect candid shot of our last goodbye kiss.