Fine Lines - SA (30 page)

"No thank you."

"Suit yourself He repacked the box and closed it. He wiped his eyes.

"You were saying. Drugs are out."

"I take it that little display was supposed to upset me?"

"Now why would I want to do that? I just felt like a little snort, that's al . Helps me put my thinking head on. If you ever want a little something yourself, by the way, let me know. I'm competitively priced." Despite myself, I was shocked. "You mean you sel the stuff? You're a dealer?" He smiled, enjoying himself. "We're both dealers, Donald. Supply and demand.

Don't worry, though. I only dabble. I've not got around to sel ing it to schoolkids yet. Just one or two friends." I wondered how much more there was about him I did not know. I tried not to let him see how shaken I was, but he must have guessed from my expression. He laughed.

"Come on, Donald. You know me. I'l do anything. It al helps to keep the wolves from the door, doesn't it? Pay for those little luxuries." He held up the lacquered box and waggled it.

"And this little luxury isn't cheap, believe me." I made no effort to compose myself. "Whatever you do with the rest of your time doesn't concern me. We were talking about Anna."

"Yes, that's right, we were, weren't we? You want to watch me fuck her, but you disapprove of using drugs on moral grounds. That's about right, isn't it?" He had the same bright-eyed look about him I had seen before. Now I knew why. I said nothing. "So, since drugs are out, how do you suggest we do it?"

I shut my mind to everything else and applied myself to the problem at hand. I had had weeks to think about it. "Can I see the rest of your flat?" I asked.

After he had shown me around and I had explained my idea, we sat down again to discuss the finer details. For the moment, our differences were forgotten. Final y, Zeppo nodded.

"Fair enough. I'l pass that. But it'l take a day or two to sort it out."

"That doesn't matter. We should have plenty of time before the weekend. Provided Anna proves as amenable as you think." The thought brought with it a cold jolt.

"Don't worry. She is." His confidence was complete.

"Can you think of anything we haven't considered?" Zeppo pursed his lips. "No," he said after a second. "So what happens now?" I felt the first heady touch of euphoria. The last doubts and fears had gone.

"You can ask us both to dinner," I said.

The shadows were lengthening and the day had lost much of its earlier heat when I turned on to the street where Zeppo lived. I pul ed into the first available parking space, edging in between a Citroen and a motorcycle.

"I think his flat is a bit further up," Anna said.

"Is it? What number are we at?"

"Twenty-two. He lives at fifty-eight, doesn't he?"

"Yes, you're right. I wasn't thinking." But by that time I had turned the engine off. "Ah wel . At least we've found a space." We left the car and walked the rest of the way to Zeppo's flat.

It was only a short distance, but enough to make my car difficult to pick out, I saw as we climbed the steps. I rang the doorbel . After a moment Zeppo opened the door, smiling.

"Come in." He smelt crisply of cologne. I stood back and let Anna enter first. She wore a sleeveless white blouse that just hung to the waistband of her loose white skirt. When she moved, a thin brown strip of flesh was sometimes visible. Her tan had faded a little since she had returned from holiday, but the past week had been cloudless and hot, and she had clearly been in the sun that afternoon. Her skin was golden and glowing, and her hair gleamed with copper highlights.

I fol owed her inside. A warm aroma of cooking greeted us. Anna sniffed. "Something smel s good."

"That's the furniture polish. We're having sandwiches." I laughed, obligingly, and hoped Zeppo would hurry up and offer us a drink. I needed something to help me relax. Both Anna and Zeppo appeared perfectly at ease, but that was hardly surprising. Seduction was no novelty for Zeppo, and Anna was as yet unaware that this evening would be different from any other. I, on the other hand, was a bag of nerves.

With the end actual y in sight, it had been harder than ever to patiently wait for the last few days to pass. Zeppo had cal ed into the gal ery the morning after our meeting and invited us both to dinner on Saturday. I had held my breath until Anna accepted, but the shock came from Zeppo, not her.

"It's a bit of a farewel celebration, actual y," he had said. "I'm going to Brazil on Monday." That was news to me. "You lucky devil!" Anna said. "How long for?"

"Only two or three weeks. I'm model ing beachwear again. I wanted to do it in Blackpool, but they insisted on shooting in Rio, so what can you do?" I had not known what to make of this at al . I confronted him later.

"Why didn't you tel me you were going away?" I demanded.

"Because I didn't decide to until this morning."

"You mean there is no model ing job?"

"Donald, you can be amazingly dense sometimes. That's right, there is no model ing job. I was tel ing porkies."

"Why? Why complicate things?"

"Why does it complicate things? If anything, it'l make it easier.

Give Saturday evening the poignancy of leaving. Parting is such sweet sorrow, and al that crap. Besides which, it'l get me out of the way afterwards. Stop her from pestering me."

"And what if something goes wrong? What if you don't manage to ... to

..."

"To fuck her?" He grinned. "Don't worry, I wil . Don't be such an old woman, Donald."

"I'm not being anything, except prudent. I don't want to have to wait another three weeks, that's al . Not now."

"You won't, I've told you." A sudden thought struck me. It had never occurred to me before, and I was horrified to think I had overlooked something so simple. "What if Anna can't, though?"

"What do you mean, "can't"?" I had the feeling he knew perfectly wel what I meant. I struggled for a delicate way of phrasing it. "I mean what if it's … if it's her time of the month?"

Zeppo cocked his head, smirking. "If you're talking about her having a period, don't worry. She won't be."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because it's Saturday." He said it as though that explained everything. I hesitated, unwil ing to show my ignorance. But I had to ask. "What has that to do with it?"

"Come on, Donald. Even you must know that girls don't have periods at weekends." He said it so seriously that for a moment I was unsure. It was not a subject I had ever had cause to acquaint myself with. Zeppo laughed delightedly.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Donald, I knew you were naive, but I didn't think even you were that gul ible!" I stood there, stiffly embarrassed, until he had finished laughing at me. "I repeat, how can you be sure?" Zeppo wiped his eyes, stil grinning. "Because I saw she had a packet of tampons in her handbag ages ago, and made a note of the date. Unless she's in the habit of carrying them around with her al the time, we're wel in the clear. And even if we weren't, it wouldn't necessarily matter. I tel you what, I'l get you a sex-education pamphlet. You can read it before this Saturday, so you know what's going on." His ridicule had stung, but been quickly forgotten in the face of my growing excitement. The scene I had imagined ever since I had seen Anna naked in the mirror would soon be a reality. Al I had to do was wait a few more days.

Now, however, the waiting was nearly over, and the thought of what was going to happen in a matter of hours made me feel giddy. And, after the first drink, garrulous.

"You know, Zeppo, if anyone had told me you were a cook I wouldn't have believed them, but that smel s very good indeed. What is it?"

"Gambas a la plancha," he said from the kitchen, from where sizzling sounds were emanating. "Or prawns fried with garlic, if you prefer.

Fol owed by pael a." I smiled over at Anna. "I take it we're in for a Spanish evening, then. Actual y, I was thinking about pael a just the other day, and wishing I knew a good Spanish restaurant in London so I could have it more often. It never tastes the same when you cook it at home." I realised my gaffe and immediately became flustered.

"Wel , it never does when I try it, that is. I'm sure that yours is much more authentic, Zeppo. It certainly smel s delicious. You'l have to give me the recipe for it before you go on holiday. But you're not going on holiday, are you, I was forgetting. I meant to work.

Brazil."

"Anna, could you just stir these while I take the bread through?" Zeppo asked.

"Yes, sure." She went into the kitchen, leaving me sweating and confused in the lounge. Zeppo came out carrying a basket of cut French bread.

"More wine, Donald?" he asked, and as he leaned to take my glass hissed, "For fuck's sake stop gabbling!" He went back into the kitchen, and when Anna came out I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I splashed water on to my face and drank a little from the tap. Then I sat on the edge of the bath and took deep breaths until I felt composed enough to face them again.

Zeppo was just bringing in the prawns. I sat down at the table, the three of us forming a triangle, and occupied myself with a piece of bread. I had no appetite, and my only lasting impression of the food is that it was hot. I burnt my mouth on the first forkful, and ate without taste or pleasure. But Anna was loud in her praise, so I joined in, taking care not to sound too effusive.

Luckily, that was no longer a problem. From being unable to shut up, I suddenly found myself with nothing to say. I smiled and laughed and otherwise responded to the conversation, but contributed little to it.

It was a struggle not to constantly keep looking at my watch, and as the minutes passed the urge became stronger and I grew even more silent.

But neither Anna nor Zeppo seemed to notice. They had enough to say without help from me, and each listened raptly whenever the other was talking. Even I could not help but be aware of the fris son between them, and that part of me that was not anxiously watching the time felt a glow of paternal pride at being responsible for bringing them together.

Then the telephone rang. I jumped, jolted out of my trance, and spil ed wine on my hand.

"Excuse me," said Zeppo, and went to answer it. I dabbed at the wine, thankful that Anna did not appear to have noticed. She was watching Zeppo.

I forced myself not to stare as I heard him say, "Hel o? Yes, that's right. Okay ... Yes, he is. Just a second." He turned to me. "It's for you, Donald. Somebody cal ed Roger Chamberlain."

I did my best to look surprised as I went and took the receiver from him. "Hel o?" I said. The dial ing tone hummed steadily in my ear.

"No, of course I don't mind. How on earth did you know where to find me?" I paused. The tone continued. "Oh, so I did. No, that's okay.

Is everything al right?" I glanced over at the table. Anna and Zeppo were studiously trying to mind their own business. "Oh, no! You haven't! That's awful! What have they taken?"

Again, I paused. "And have they left a mess?" I sighed, loudly. "That's terrible. I don't know what to say." In fact, I real y was running out of ideas. The dial ing tone was an unimaginative prompter. "Yes ... yes … no … No, of course not. Yes, I'm sure. About an hour, okay? Yes, I'l see you soon." I hung up and went back to the table. "Bad news?" asked Zeppo.

I sat down. "Yes, it was, rather. That was a friend of mine. He's just got back from holiday and found he's been burgled. It sounds like they've left his house in an awful mess, and taken almost everything that's not nailed down. He's in a terrible state."

"Has he cal ed the police?" Anna seemed suitably convinced.

"Yes. They've already been, but they weren't very helpful, apparently.

He wants me to go over. He had quite a nice little col ection of watercolours, and most of those are missing, but what's upset him even more is that whoever did it defaced the ones they've left. He wondered if I'd go over and see if they can be salvaged. You don't mind, do you Zeppo?"

"No, of course not."

"Do you have to go straight away?" Anna asked. "Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"

"Wel , I suppose it could, but I think he would like someone to talk to. He lives by himself, and it must have been quite a shock for him." I hoped Anna would not question it too closely, but I was flattered that she wanted me to stay.

"How can anyone do anything like that?" she said. "It's bad enough stealing something, but spoiling what's left ..." She shook her head.

"Sickening," agreed Zeppo. "Can you stay for dessert, or do you have to go now?"

I looked at my watch. The hands and numerals formed a cypher that meant nothing to me. Now that the moment had come, the time was unimportant. "I think I'd better. I told him I'd be there in an hour, and he lives quite a way away." I had a sudden moment of panic, my mind a blank, as I waited for Anna to ask exactly where he lived. But she did not.

"I just hope they catch them," she said. "Have they left any fingerprints?"

"He didn't say." I stood up, forestal ing further enquiry. "I'd better go. Thanks for the meal, Zeppo. I'm sorry to have to dash like this." He stood up. "That's okay. I'l see you to the door."

Anna began to get up as wel . "No, don't bother," I said quickly. "You stay where you are. I'm disturbing everyone enough." I bent and kissed her cheek. Her skin felt hot and taut. "Have a nice evening." She said goodbye, and I fol owed Zeppo into the hal way. "Proper little Olivier, aren't we?" he muttered. Then, raising his voice, he opened the front door a crack and said.

"Bye, Donald. I hope your friend gets his things back."

"So do I. Sorry to have to go like this."

"Don't worry about it. I'l talk to you later. "Bye."

"Goodbye." Zeppo put his finger to his lips and firmly closed the door. I fol owed him back down the hal , careful not to make a noise. Before we came to the lounge, another door stood open. I went inside and Zeppo quickly pul ed it shut behind me.

I put my ear against it. "What a shame," I heard Zeppo say, and then his voice was cut off as he closed the lounge door. I listened for a moment longer, but could make out nothing but indistinct murmurs.