Thought, ‘Who’s gonna argue with that?’
‘Well, be good.’
‘And if I can’t be good?’
‘Just be good.’
I returned to the bar, ordered another J amp;B. I tried to get a handle on the place. It looked plush, first time I’d seen walls carpeted. And the punters certainly had plenty of poppy. A mixture of old Edinburgh and parvenu trash. A lot of green and tweeds clashing with the Prada set. Champagne in full flow all around, raised voices. I eavesdropped.
‘Another bottle of Bolly, darling?’
‘Yaw-yaw…’
‘Oh moy Gawd… Oh moy Gawd!’
‘What is it, darling?’
‘Kitten heels with culottes, darling.’
‘Oh, that’s so last season!’
Felt my brain softening, more than it had already. Phone suddenly went off. Saved by the bell.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, I’m sorry to call so late, but-’
I didn’t recognise her voice. ‘Who is this?’
‘Oh, of course, my name’s McClair. I’m with social services.’
‘Uh-huh, and who are you looking for?’
‘Ehm, is that Mr Dury?’
‘Yeah, that’s me. Is there some kind of problem?’
Silence on the line, then: ‘It’s about the remains of, Mr Milo Whittle.’
To hear his name again thumped at my heart. ‘Milo, yes… God, yes — his remains.’
‘Mr Dury, you seem to be the only contact we have. Are you family of some sort?’
‘No, I’m not family. I’m, eh, all he had though.’
‘In that case, will you be claiming the remains, Mr Dury?’
I felt my heart freeze over, my mouth fell open. The sight of that heap of ashes would stay with me to my dying day.
‘Mr Dury, are you still there?’
‘Eh, yeah… yes, I’m still here.’
‘It’s, well, the remains have been released now. There will have to be arrangements made.’
I felt my mind slowly clicking over. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘We can take care of the funeral expenses, if needs be.’
That terrible expression ‘pauper’s grave’ entered my thoughts.
‘Eh, no.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I’ll take care of it. The funeral and so on.’
‘That’s very generous, Mr Dury. Are you fully aware of the costs?’
‘Fuck the costs. I’m sorry, I mean, I’ll manage.’
‘Well, we’ll be taking him to the crematorium soon, so…’
‘That’s fine, I’ll get down there now.’
‘I think tomorrow would be better.’
‘Yes, look, tomorrow it is then.’
‘Okay, Mr Dury. Goodbye.’
My legs buckled, standing became difficult. I summoned the courage to order another whisky. I threw it over, sensed right away I’d reached the magic number.
My blood thumped in my veins as I headed for the cashier.
I threw down all the money Col had given me, said, ‘Change that.’
‘How would you like it, sir?’
‘What?’
‘Hundreds, twenties, tens.’
‘Fuck do I care?’
As I headed for the roulette wheel Bobby Darin sang ‘Moon River’. God, my mother used to play that. The past seemed like happier days to me now.
Put a pile of chips on black.
Croupier spun the wheel. ‘No more bets, please.’
As I watched the ball jump Bobby Darin changed his tune, started on ‘Call Me Irresponsible’.
Like I needed that.
38
As I watched the wheel, my guts turned over. I’d been throwing money around like one of those Indian statues with four arms. It had to end. It might be soon.
I watched the ball begin to slow, popping in and out of the little brass slats. I couldn’t take it, turned away.
Amy appeared at my side. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Is it black?’
‘What?’
‘The wheel… I’ve put it all on black.’
I slouched, she towered over me as she pitched herself on her toes. ‘Still, going…’
‘Christ on a crutch. Keep watching.’
‘How much have you put on?’
‘All of it — everything I have.’
‘’Bout ten bob then.’ She laughed at her own joke.
‘Bit more than that.’
I turned around to see the wheel’s silver handle make a final wink in the glare of lights.
‘Number twenty-two,’ called out the croupier.
‘Holy shit, it’s black! I’ve won!’
Amy jumped up, put her arms around me. Before I knew what had happened, we were kissing, Amy leaned in hard, pressing her tongue on the roof of my mouth.
‘That was nice,’ she said when we finished.
‘I didn’t see it coming.’
‘We should do it more often.’
‘God, no, my nerves wouldn’t take it.’
‘I was talking about the kiss,’ said Amy.
‘So was I.’
A little crowd formed as the croupier wrote out a chit for the cash office.
Hod appeared.
‘I thought you’d never been to a casino before.’
‘Beginner’s luck,’ I said. Amy wrapped her arms round my waist and smiled.
Hod tipped his head, winked towards her. ‘I wish I had half your luck, Gus Dury,’ he said.
‘How do they pay out?’
‘Cash. How much is it?’
I showed him the chit. Hod’s eyes widened, he whistled through his front teeth. ‘Drinks are on you, buddy.’
I felt his words like a lash, I didn’t feel like celebrating after the call about Milo, said, ‘Look, guys, I’ve had a bit of news tonight. I hate to piss on your parade but a friend of mine’s died and
… I’ve to collect the remains.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Amy.
I managed a limp smile for her as she put her hands on my face. ‘Thanks. He was very old and I hadn’t known him long, but we connected, you know?’
Amy nodded, eyes widened by my misery.
‘Let’s get your money,’ said Hod. He walked us over to the cash office.
As I handed over the chit, the girl behind the perspex took one look at the amount and reached for the phone.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked Hod.
He shrugged. ‘New territory for me too, mate.’
The girl put the phone down. ‘You’ll have to take this upstairs, sir.’
‘Come again?’
‘We don’t keep that much cash on the floor. You’ll need to go up to the manager’s office where the safe is. Mr Zalinskas is expecting you.’
I swore I heard Amy gulp. I looked at Hod, he wore a face like a Rottweiler, opening and closing his fists. ‘Looks like you’re going to see some action whether you like it or not, Dury,’ he said.
‘Down boy,’ I cautioned him.
‘What?’ Hod’s brow dropped, I swore it smacked his lower lip. The look was now confusion.
‘If you think I’m going up there looking for a cuffing, forget it.’
‘But, Gus, this is your chance to get some answers.’ He put an arm on my shoulder, raised a fist to within an inch of my nose. ‘Just a bit of persuasion and you never know — could have this wrapped up in no time.’
‘Are you off your head?’ I slapped down his fist, grabbed him by the collar. ‘See those?’
‘Cameras.’
‘And what do you think they’re for?’
‘Robbing — stop folk taking him at the tables.’
‘And do you think he won’t have them up there? What use do you think we’ll be to Col inside?’
‘Fuck it. Let’s do him anyway, we’ll take the tapes.’
I saw I was getting nowhere fast. ‘Okay.’
‘Gus!’ said Amy.
‘No. No, it’s fine Amy,’ I said. ‘Hod wants a pagger, I’m all for it.’
Hod smiled. ‘Well, let’s go then.’
‘Right-oh,’ I said. ‘One thing, though.’ I eased Hod towards the security guard who was heading over to lead us up to Zalinskas’ office. He made the boxer Nikolai Valuev, the seven-foot-plus heavyweight, look like a pillow-biter. ‘Who’s going to take care of the Beast from the East?’
Hod stepped aside, nibbled on his lip. ‘D’you think I could take him?’
I laughed out loud. ‘Sure. Without a doubt.’
‘He’s a big bastard, aye. But they’re the easy ones to take out, never felt a good punch, every bastard’s too scared to land one on them.’