Quintin Jardine - Alarm Call

‘There might be more to it than that. You’re a newcomer to the business, and he doesn’t know you like I do.’

‘I’ve got someone else in place for the part,’ he said, perking up again, ‘but nothing’s signed yet. It’s still yours if you want it. Maybe I could squeeze some more money out of the pot.’

‘Friend, I’d do it for free,’ I told him, meaning every word, ‘but I’ve got Roscoe to consider. He earns his cut, and twenty per cent of nothing doesn’t amount to much more than that. I’ll tell you what. E-mail me the script today, and I’ll take a quick look at it. What is it, anyway? I assume that with Liam and Jerry in the lead, it’s not a remake of Pride and Prejudice .’

‘Hell, no! It’s an action thriller called Serious Impact , based on a novel by a hot young writer. It’s set mostly in Las Vegas. I’ll have someone send it to you right away.’

‘Do that. I’ll be speaking to Roscoe later today: I’ll talk it through with him, I promise.’ I paused, turning a thought over in my mind. ‘Two weeks in Vegas, eh? When?’

‘We’d need you the week after next. I’ll book you the best suite in the Mandalay Bay, or the Bellagio, if you’d prefer to be in the heart of the Strip.’

‘Okay, okay, you can ease off the arm lock now: I’ll get back to you.’ I put the phone back in the cradle.

‘What was that about Las Vegas?’ Susie asked.

‘Everett fancies himself as a movie producer.’

‘Are you going to do it?’

‘That depends. Do you fancy it?’

‘Not one bit. I’ve been to Vegas, at a convention with my dad when he was Lord Provost of Glasgow. It’s not a place for kids, especially not in the summer: it’s in the middle of a desert and it’s ferociously hot.’

‘We could leave the kids with Ethel,’ I suggested tentatively.

The look she shot me was eloquent. It said, ‘You’re a self-indulgent bastard and a bad parent.’

‘Okay, I’ll turn it down.’

‘No, I didn’t mean that. It’s your career, and Everett’s your friend.’

‘And you’re my family and I promised you three months. That’s more important.’

‘How much money is he offering?’

When I told her, I thought she would explode. ‘Are we so bloody wealthy that you can afford to turn down a million dollars for two weeks’ not very hard work?’

‘As a matter of fact, we are.’

‘Like hell we are! Nobody is.’

‘Okay, once I’ve seen the script. . Audrey, when an e-mail arrives from someone in the GWA, print out the attachment, please. . I’ll talk to Roscoe about it. But I’m not inclined to go without you and the kids.’

Susie glanced at her watch. ‘We can continue this later, Sir Galahad,’ she said, ‘but first you’ve got a plane to meet.’

I’m not saying I wouldn’t have known her, but if I hadn’t been expecting a different Primavera after my chat with my dad, I’d have been in for a shock.

The woman who came out of the arrivals doorway at Glasgow airport, wheeling a cabin bag behind her, was not she with whom I’d fallen in lust during the death-rattle of my dissolute and free-wheeling twenties. Not that she should have been, since eight years or so had elapsed (I’ve always been vague about dates), but the changes were pretty radical.

She was still attractive, no question about that, but she was thinner about the face. Much of its former roundness had gone, and the cheekbones, which I didn’t remember noticing before, were now quite prominent. There were new creases about her eyes, in addition to the familiar laugh-lines, and the hairstyle was indeed new: it brushed her shoulders and it was tinted, a sort of strawberry colour.

The clothes were familiar, though. She might have got herself dolled up for her visit to Anstruther, but she had travelled in well-washed blue jeans, a pale blue sleeveless shirt and tan moccasins.

She didn’t see me at first. I was standing behind a line of men, some in grey chauffeur uniforms, holding up boards with punters’ names on them. She scanned them, as if she assumed that one of them was for her, and only then did her eye catch mine. She started slightly, then smiled, awkwardly. I gave her a wave then moved towards her.

There was something else different about her: she had been comfortably endowed in the chest department, a thirty-six C cup, as I remembered. She’d certainly not been in need of implants, and yet she looked as if she’d had some.

She stepped past the line of waiting drivers and we came face to face, for the first time in almost four years. For a moment I almost offered a handshake, until instinct and good manners made me lean forward and kiss her cheek, like someone greeting an old friend, rather than an ex-wife … although the two states are not mutually exclusive.

‘Hello,’ she said, and then something very strange happened. Her eyes moistened, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.

I took her in my arms and hugged her to me for a few moments. Maybe I should have been more careful: being famous, I was aware that a few people were looking at us, but tears from Prim are about as rare as orange juice from a potato. ‘Hey,’ I murmured, ‘I’m a professional kisser now. I’ve been coached and everything. I’m not supposed to get that kind of reaction.’

A laugh spluttered its way on to her crumpled face: I was relieved for I’d feared we were in for flood conditions. She fished in her shoulder-bag until she found a tissue, and dried her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘You never used to have that effect on me.’

‘Of course I did,’ I protested. ‘The way I behaved?’

As I looked at her, it all came back to me. Whatever it was that had bound us together, some vestiges of it had burned themselves into my brain, and would never go away. ‘It’s good to see you,’ I heard myself say.

‘And it’s good to see you. In fact, you don’t know how good it is. Oz, I have never felt so alone, or so much in need of you.’

‘Why me?’ I asked her, automatically. ‘What about Miles? He’s your brother-in-law, and he’s one hell of an influential guy. He’s on first-name terms with the Prime Minister. .’ I paused to consider the banality of that remark. ‘. . okay, so is everyone, but I know for a fact that the Australian version phones him up for advice on a regular basis.’

‘Maybe, but he won’t give me any. Miles doesn’t like me, ever since that Nicky business, and he’s turned my sister against me too. Anyway, he’s not you. He doesn’t get the business done like you do.’

It was my turn for a sudden spluttering laugh. ‘Hold on for a reality check, woman. I’m an actor: none of that stuff’s for real.’

‘You’ve done plenty of things for real in the time I’ve known you. There is nobody I could or would turn to before you.’

I felt a surge of pride as strong as any I’ve known when I’ve seen my name in lights. ‘That’s nice to know. But let’s not talk about whatever it is here. Come back to the house and say hello to Susie and the kids.’

She gave a small ‘Hmph!’

‘Hey now,’ I cautioned. ‘You might think of her as the woman who stole your husband, but she knows about you having it off with her fiance, so maybe it’s best to call it quits and let the past lie undisturbed.’

She was taken considerably aback. ‘She does? But how. .’

‘Shagging him was one thing. Writing to him was another.’

‘God,’ she gasped. ‘Would you believe I’d forgotten about it?’ Then she gave an old-style Prim chuckle. ‘That might tell you how memorable the late Mike Dylan was.’

Not as late as you believe , I thought to myself, but that was our secret, Mike’s and mine.