Acquired Tastes (35 page)

But the pub still had one old fashioned virtue: glass panelled partitions which allowed some tables to be used for discreet conversations.

Sitting at the table in the darkest corner was Eddie Spittle.

He got up to kiss her, but she swerved out of reach and sat down opposite, strategically placing her bag on the seat beside her so that he could not move too close.

Spittle pushed a glass containing a double vodka and a bottle of tonic towards her.

'I always remember what a lady drinks.'

Vanessa nodded and splashed some tonic into the glass, then raised it to her lips. But before she could drink, Spittle raised his glass of whisky in a toast.

'To the destruction of our enemies,' he held her eyes for a moment.

Vanessa gave him an acidic smile and drank deeply. Spittle had been a useful way to supplement her income for nearly fifteen years. He was always willing to pay well for any juicy bits of gossip she passed on and the source of the information had never been traced back to her, however she had always been uncomfortably aware that one day it might be her own indiscretions that were splashed across the front of his newspaper. Spittle made no bones about being loyal to no-one when it came to a good story.

Now Spittle reached across her bag and fondled her knee. 'You are going to owe me one
big
favour, Vanessa sweetie,' he said with a lecherous grin which showed his discoloured teeth, 'and one of these days, I intend to collect.'

Vanessa made an unsuccessful attempt to pull her skirt over her knees. 'So what are you going to do for me, Eddie? Big favours are not your usual
modus operandi.'

'I'm going to do a really big spread on Gabriella Wolfe, which will send the ratings of your show through the roof.'

'I wouldn't have thought there was anything new to say about an ageing and outdated chat show host,' Vanessa said dismissively.

'She said she loved you too,' Spittle laughed.

Vanessa sat up instantly alert. 'Exactly what
did
she say about me?'

'Let's just say you two won't be forming a mutual admiration society,' Spittle replied, 'that's why I called you. I thought you might be able to help me with the article. There are a few things about Miss Wolfe I can't quite pin down.'

'Like what?' asked Vanessa.

'Like what she did before the age of twenty-one,' Spittle replied.

Vanessa considered this for a few moments. 'No trace?' she asked.

'Nothing. Zilch. Nada,' Spittle replied, 'and I've had my researchers hard at it for days. The first mention of her is as a young actress, aged twenty-two, playing a good-time girl in a BBC cop series.'

'She must have changed her name. Actresses do, you know.'

'Maybe. We're pursuing that one. However my instincts tell me there's more to it than that. I think we may have some dirty washing that needs to be hung out to dry. You know the sort of thing: “Shameful Secret of Glamorous TV Star”.' He drew large headlines with his hands. 'I've got plenty of stuff for recent years. Our Miss Wolfe has kept a stable of young Italian studs to amuse her while she's been living in Rome. Two of them were barely sixteen when she picked them up. But I want to know what she was doing when
she
was sixteen. Will you see what you can do to help?'

'Anything to help, Eddie, you know that,' Vanessa said. 'But I trust you will keep my name out of it should I come up with anything.'

Spittle tapped the side of his nose. 'You know me, Vanessa sweetie, the veritable soul of discretion. And of course, there will be something in it for you.'

Vanessa stood up. 'I can't make any promises, Eddie, but I'll keep you posted on any developments, and I'd be grateful if you would do the same for me.'

Spittle grabbed her hand. 'Perhaps we could make the next meeting dinner? I could write the kind of stories that would do your career a power of good.'

Vanessa gave him a good imitation of fluttering eyelashes. 'Give me a call sometime and perhaps we can arrange it.'

Outside in the street, Vanessa had to control her urge to do a little dance of triumph. Fergus was coming to heel, and now that little weasel Spittle was hot on Gabriella's scent. If he put Gabriella on the front page,
Forbidden Fruit
would be right there with her, guaranteeing the ratings. A girl couldn't ask for better news!

The warmth of the late afternoon sun on his face made Jeremy open his eyes. The window was wide open, and bees were humming around the flowers which Alicia had planted in the window boxes out on the flat's tiny balcony.

Jeremy's left arm was stiff, but he dared not move for fear of waking Alicia. She lay with her head on his shoulder, her body moulded against his.

They had started to make love on the
chaise-longue
, but had toppled on to the floor where they now lay sprawled among Zelda's oriental floor cushions. With infinite care, Jeremy tugged a cushion from under his buttocks and tucked it behind his head.

Sex, Jeremy was discovering with delight, was not just about sex. It was about a whole combination of sensations and feelings and moments like this, just being able to lie beside Alicia, looking at her wonderfully plump, pearlescent pink body.

With the tip of his forefinger, Jeremy almost imperceptibly began to caress one of her nipples. After a moment or two it began to harden, and Alicia's eyelashes fluttered. With a small whimper of pleasure, she opened her eyes, and yawning, stretched her arms and legs wide. His arm free, Jeremy wriggled down, his mouth seeking and claiming her other breast.

Alicia stroked his hair. 'It's nearly six o'clock, we must get dressed,' she murmured softly.

Jeremy kept his mouth clamped to her ample breast.

Alicia stopped stroking his hair.

'Jeremy darling, we've got to meet Vijay at seven. It's all planned, the recording is tomorrow.'

An unfamiliar note of firmness had crept into Alicia's voice of late and Jeremy had found it was not to be disobeyed. With a last regretful lick, he sat up.

'Are you sure you want to go through with this? This cockeyed plan you and this researcher fellow have dreamt up could be construed as breaking and entering, which is illegal.'

Alicia was already on her feet and gathering her hastily discarded clothes. 'Actually, the plan is all my idea. Vijay merely told me what Vanessa and Fergus were planning this evening. If you don't want to come, you don't have to. Vijay and I are quite capable of managing by ourselves. He doesn't even know about you.'

In their many telephone conversations since the evening Vijay came to interview her, Alicia had not mentioned that she was living with Vanessa's ex-husband. Vijay assumed she was single, and Alicia had not disabused him. In order to get him to co-operate with her plan, she had not disagreed with him when he suggested they might see each other once they had carried out their plan. It had not exactly been a promise so Alicia did not feel that she was being dishonest, but she hadn't mentioned it to Jeremy either. She had a feeling he would get possessive, something he had become prone to recently.

Jeremy leapt to his feet and squared his shoulders. 'I have absolutely no intention of letting you and this… this…
person
run around London like a couple of cat burglars without my protection. You could get into all kinds of trouble.'

Alicia tried very hard not to smile. Jeremy's attempt to be masterful was completely undermined by his nakedness. It had come as a surprise to her to find that a man could look vulnerable when he was naked, but she was learning a lot of new things lately.

'Well, we'd better hurry up then, or else we'll be late and Vijay will be a bundle of nerves.'

Alicia's prophecy proved accurate. They were fifteen minutes late reaching the narrow alleyway behind the converted warehouse in Covent Garden, which housed the television studios where
Forbidden Fruit
was to be recorded. An extremely tense Vijay was waiting crouched behind a large industrial rubbish bin, whose malodorous contents filled the hot evening air with the dank odour of putrefaction.

Jeremy put his hand to his nose.

'Who's this?' Vijay demanded in an angry whisper, as Alicia pulled Jeremy down to crouching position beside her.

'Oh, I'm sorry, you two haven't met have you?' Alicia whispered ingenuously. 'This is Vanessa's ex-husband, Jeremy Swift. Jeremy, meet Vijay Seth.'

She looked from one to the other. They reached across her and awkwardly shook hands.

'You should have told me this was going to be a works outing, I would have hired a charabanc,' Vijay whispered sarcastically.

'Don't be silly, Vijay, Jeremy is part of this too. Vanessa treated him very badly. Why, she very nearly made him impot…' Alicia began but was interrupted by Jeremy.

'Could we stand up?' he demanded huffily. All this amateur James Bond stuff was bad enough without Alicia broadcasting his past sexual shortcomings to the world. 'I'm getting very uncomfortable.'

He hauled himself to his feet, using the rubbish bin for support but it was not as solid as it looked and he sent it lurching noisily down the alleyway. He crouched hurriedly down again.

'Idiot,' Vijay hissed loudly.

Alicia grabbed his arm and put her finger to her lips. They waited motionless for a few minutes, but nobody came to investigate. Vijay mopped his face. It had been a long and very hot day. Philip had negotiated a cut-price deal from Silver Screen Studios to use their facilities for the weekend, but that had meant they had only one day to erect the complicated and expensive set conceived by Hugo and his designer. Unfortunately, the set was of Cecil B. de Mille epic proportions and it had soon become clear that some of it would have to be abandoned as the skeleton crew provided by the studios to build it, who were earning double time, also demanded double time for tea, lunch and cigarette breaks. Any breach of their 'rights' was met with a threat to lay down their tools.

In order that the set was finished before the studio crew ran into triple time, Vijay had been ordered to work as an unwilling labourer whilst Hugo, Philip and Vanessa engaged in lengthy and acrimonious exchanges as they rewrote the script to fit the new set that was emerging in the studio. All that had kept Vijay going, as he carried heavy pieces of scenery from once side of the studio to the other and put up with the muttered comments of the chain-smoking, tattooed carpenters about 'coolies' and other less pleasant words, was the thought of spending some time alone with Alicia that evening.

He had not reckoned on another man and now he sized Jeremy up out of the corner of his eye. Alicia had led him to believe that she was single but Jeremy seemed to have a distinctly proprietorial air towards her. Vijay gave Alicia a smile which she returned, causing Jeremy to put a protective arm around her shoulders.

Vijay reached into his pocket and pulled out a red cotton bandana which he tied round his forehead. He would have to show Alicia who was the better man. He had thought hard about what to wear to meet her and he looked rather dashing dressed in black jeans and a black polo-neck jumper, however a t-shirt would have been more suitable. It was much warmer that he had expected and sweat kept trickling uncomfortably into his eyes.

'Who does he think he is, Che Guevara?' murmured Jeremy.

Alicia gave him a warning look. She thought Vijay looked rather glamorous in black with his long dark hair in a ponytail.

Jeremy noticed her appreciative gaze and glared fiercely at Vijay, but the look was lost on him as he rose to a half-crouching, half-walking position and began to edge along the wall. Alicia followed suit, forcing Jeremy to adopt the same uncomfortable stance and follow them.

After a few yards, Vijay motioned them to stop and listened. The only sound was the distant drone of traffic along Holborn and Kingsway. The centre of Covent Garden, with its tourist-trap piazza and cheek by jowl wine bars, restaurants and pubs, was packed with Saturday night revellers, but the studios were surrounded by deserted office blocks.

Alicia tapped him on the shoulder. Vijay jumped.

'How do we get in?' she whispered.

'I left a window open this afternoon. I think it's at the back somewhere,' Vijay replied, and set off again.

His knowledge of the geography of the building was extremely hazy. He thought the window he was looking for opened on to the alleyway, but he had obviously been wrong - not that he was going to admit his mistake to Alicia and Jeremy. He reached the corner of the building and signalled to them to stop again. He peered cautiously round the corner like some character in a spy film.

Alicia stifled a giggle as Jeremy rolled his eyes.

Vijay turned round and scowled at them. Alicia struggled hard to straighten her face.

Having ascertained it was all clear, Vijay led them down yet another alleyway where, to his relief, he saw the window he had left open.

He pointed triumphantly, 'That's it.'

Alicia and Jeremy gazed upwards. The window was barely two foot square and nearly eight feet off the ground.

'This is ridiculous,' Jeremy declared, 'none of us can get through that.'

'It
is
a bit high and a bit small,' Alicia said dubiously.

'Well, I could hardly leave the front door open, could I?' Vijay snapped. He had expected a little more appreciation from Alicia.

He had taken a big risk slipping away from the main studio, and was stopped twice by security men when he had blundered into forbidden technical areas. He eventually found the only seemingly suitable window in a little-used corridor at the back of the building, and even then it had taken him nearly twenty heart-stopping minutes to prise it open as years of accumulated grime and over-painting had glued the frame shut. It had not crossed his mind to check whether it was accessible from the outside. He was too worried about getting caught.

Alicia tugged at his sleeve. 'If you and Jeremy go back and fetch the rubbish bin, we could put some of those on top of it.' She pointed at some wooden pallets.

Keeping their heads turned away from the stench of whatever was rotting inside the bin, Vijay and Jeremy pushed and dragged it from the other alleyway and stationed it against the wall. They then placed a pallet on top and one beside it to act as a step.