“Does it clarify anything?”
“I don’t know.”
I didn’t want to get into this so said,
“Let’s get to that party.”
“Shouldn’t we bring something?”
“Isn’t there a bottle of wine left?”
“Oh, right.”
We went up the stairs in an awkward silence. At Linda’s door, we could hear music. Sounded like James Taylor. Jeez, what a bad omen. Knocked.
Linda answered. She was dressed in a long flowing sheath. I said,
“I brought a friend.”
Linda hesitated for just a second, then,
“Lovely. Do come in.”
We did.
Everyone was dressed to the nines. The women in long dresses, the guys in suits. We looked like the hired help. Ann went,
“Uh-oh.”
I introduced Linda to Ann. They regarded each other with cool assessment. Linda asked,
“What do you do, Ann?”
“I clean offices.”
“I see.”
But she didn’t.
A bar was set up along the wall. Complete with a bartender. He had a waistcoat and bow tie. I took Ann’s hand, said to Linda,
“Later.”
The barman said,
“Good evening, folks. What can I get you?”
Ann had white wine. I acted as if I were undecided, then,
“Gimme a double tequila.”
Ann sighed. I think the barman did too, but it was subdued. He asked,
“Lemon and salt?”
“Naw, skip the crap.”
Heavy chunky glass. I was pleased to see the base had one of those super-glued stickers. It read:
Roches
£4.99
A suit approached Ann, began his social skills. I joined as he was saying,
“On Sky News, before I left, they said a man was found crucified in North-West London.”
“Oh God!”
The guy let his hand rest lightly on Ann’s arm, said,
“Don’t worry, the report said his injuries weren’t life threatening.”
I said, “Hardly life enhancing either.”
Linda approached with a tall guy, said,
“Jack, I’d like you to meet Johann, my fiancée.”
‘Congratulations.”
Johann gave me a close look, asked,
“What is your profession, Jackues?”
“That’s Jack. I’m unemployed.”
Linda gave a tight smile, said,
“Johann is from Rotterdam, he’s a programmer.”
“Great, my telly’s on the blink.”
Malice
with a Galway-ed
bite
Ann was on her third glass of wine. Oh yeah, I was counting. Easier then counting my own. I was still on the tequila. John Wayne used to say it hurt his back. Every time he drank it, he fell off his stool.
Linda approached, asked,
“Might I have a word?”
“Fire away.”
“A quiet word.”
The music had grown in volume. Sounded suspiciously like techno Gary Numan. That awful. Linda led me to the bedroom. Closed the door. I said,
“Alas, I’m spoken for.”
She ignored this, sat on the bed. The room was cluttered with furry animals,
Pink bears
Pink frogs
Pink tigers
Leastways, I think that’s the colour. I wasn’t about to verify. Linda said,
“You’ll be aware I’ve been doing very well at the bank.”
“That’s good... isn’t it?”
“Of course. They have generously agreed to help me buy a house.”
“Way to go, Linda.”
“This house.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll be doing major renovations.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. I’m out all day.”
“Jack... I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
For a bizarre moment, I thought she meant the bedroom. Then I rallied, tried,
“I’m a sitting tenant.”
As opposed to a sitting duck.
Being evicted is no doubt a shock to the system. The mind is liable to turn in any direction. I thought of guns. Well, a gun. I said,
“Did you know Special Garda Units are getting a new pistol. Not just any pistol but the Rolls Royce of handguns.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Oh yeah. The Sig Sauer P-226 has been issued to members of the Emergency Response Unit.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“It’s Swiss. That’s where the precision comes in. See, all that neutrality gave them time to design a serious weapon. Do you think there’s a moral there?”
“Jack... I’m serious, you’ll have to find new accommodation.”
“Course, you being in the bank business, you’re not going to piss on the Swiss.”
She stood up, said,
“I must get back to the party.”
“They’re £700 a pop. I don’t suppose the lottery will spring for them.”
She was at the bedroom door, said,
“Come on, Jack.”
“No, I’m going to sit here and think of weapons.”
She was gone.
I didn’t think I could move into the Skeff with Sutton. Maybe it was time to make that move to London. A knock on the door. I said,
“Yeah.”
Ann came in, asked,
“What are you doing, Jack?”
“Talking to pink teddy bears.”
“A bad sign.”
“Oh yes, but for who... me or the teds?”
“Linda looked very serious when she came back to the party. What happened?”
“We were discussing guns.”
“Guns.”
Back at my flat, Ann said,
“I feel a bit tipsy.”
“Want to prolong it?”
“Good heavens, no.”
There was an awkward silence. I didn’t know what to do. She said,
“Will you kiss me?”
I did, if badly. She said,
“That’s a poor effort, try again.”
I got better.
Then we were in bed and it was wonderful. Slow, strange, exciting. After, she said,
“It’s been so long.”
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
Then her voice wavered, she said,
“I haven’t mentioned Sarah all evening.”
“You don’t have to, she’s there in your eyes all the time.”
She hugged me close, said,
“What a beautiful thing to say”
I felt better than I had in longer than I’d ever admit. Then she asked,
“Did you ever love someone?”
“There was a woman, when I was in the guards. She made me feel more than I was.”
“That’s a good feeling.”
“But I screwed it up.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I do best.”
“That’s no answer.”
“I could say it was the booze, but that’s not true. There’s a self-destruct button in me. I keep returning to it.”
“You can change.”
“I don’t know if I want to.” On that sombre note, we went to sleep.
She was gone when I woke. A note on the pillow,
Dear Jack,
You’re a lovely man. Don’t self-destruct on me.
I couldn’t bear it.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I wasn’t sure what I’d let myself in for.
A conscience full
of
others’ dreams
I never meant to kill him.
A current expression,
“It got away from me”, is hackneyed beyond tolerance. Used to excuse everything from
Wife battering
to
Drunk driving
Well, it got away from me. What began as an exercise in intimidation ended in murder. Here’s how it went down.
After my sojourn with Ann, I met Sutton the next day. Sojourn is a lovely word, has a resonance of culture and wonder. So I was feeling good, feeling strong and ready I made arrangements for Sutton to pick me up at Seapoint, the huge ballroom that sits sentinel to Salthill.