Quintin Jardine - A Coffin For Two

‘Och, I’m sorry, love,’ I said at last. ‘Two flights in a day. It’s too much for me. As a matter of fact one’s too much. Flying stresses me out, and it takes me a while to get back to normal.’

Suddenly her hand was on my sleeve, then stroking my cheek. ‘Full of surprises, aren’t you. I didn’t think anything stressed you out. Never mind, I’ll cure it once we get home.’

I flashed her a weak smile. ‘Tonight, my love, I’m a rat. Food and drink come first.’

‘My God,’ she laughed. ‘It has been a tough day.’

Casa Minana was closed up tight when we got back to St Marti, just before 11:15 p.m., but they were still serving food at the tables outside Meson del Conde. We chose a place well back from the doorway and sat down, without even taking my bag upstairs to the apartment. We ordered sardines followed by chicken and chips, and I told the waiter to keep the beer coming.

Suddenly I was hungry and thirsty at the same time. Prim watched me as I demolished my sardines, then what was left of hers, and set about my half chicken. ‘When did you last eat?’ she asked.

‘Breakfast,’ I said, without thinking.

‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘Rolls and sliced sausage.’

‘Got it in one,’ I said, finishing my third beer. ‘From Ali’s.’

‘I thought you said you were in Anstruther?’

‘That was Saturday night.’ I don’t think I paused, or batted an eyelid. ‘Ali’s isn’t all that far from Jan’s.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘I suppose not. How is Jan, anyway?’

‘Blooming. We’re plotting our parents’ wedding.’

‘I’ll bet. And how’s Noosh?’

‘Okay. She’s advising Ellie on her separation agreement, or her firm is.’

‘Mmm. That’s good.’

‘Sure is,’ I thought. ‘ I didn’t tell her a single lie there.’ ‘Not fucking much!’ an invisible wee red devil on my shoulder whispered in my ear.

‘By the way, Dawn phoned yesterday morning,’ said Prim, ‘from Los Angeles. She’s at Miles’ place. She sounded really happy. What a difference from the girl we met at Auchterarder a few months ago.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it. But don’t let’s get back to talking about sisters, eh.’

‘No, I suppose not. But the cow woke me up. They had just got in from a party. It was nine-thirty in the morning here.’

I finished my chicken and attacked my next beer. ‘How was the party you were at ?That Anglo-Catalan thing on Saturday.’

She shrugged. ‘It was okay. Quite interesting, I suppose, although I was the only person there aged under fifty, apart from someone’s son.’

‘Who was that?’ I asked.

‘A couple called Miller. He’s visiting them for a couple of weeks. His name’s Steve. He’s in the motor business, in Brighton.’

‘So what was interesting about the night? Him?’

She shot me a piercing look. ‘Don’t be silly. I made some new acquaintances. D’you remember that lady we’ve seen at the Trattoria? Very tall, slim, blonde.’ I nodded.

‘I was introduced to her. Her name’s Shirley Gash. She’s fantastic. She had this amazing little man with her. I’m not quite sure where he fits in. She announced him as a house guest. His name’s Davidoff, would you believe. Sounds like a Russian Prince. Unfortunately he looks like a Transylvanian gypsy. You might meet him. We’re invited up to Shirley’s for drinks tomorrow afternoon. Apparently she lives in a big house up on what they call Millionaires’ Row. Janice says she’s a widow.’

I did in some more beer, chasing but not killing my thirst. A refill appeared automatically, with our coffee. I was working at it, and I had almost reached the mellow stage, when the shout came from the doorway of Meson del Conde. ‘Primavera, my love!’

We both looked up together, but something made me look at Prim, rather than at the shouter. Even under the tan, I could see her flush. He came towards us between the tables, a medium sized chap, wearing a professional smile and a silk shirt with a gold Benson and Hedges pack in the breast pocket. Behind him a different couple, well old enough to have been his parents, stood by the entrance to the restaurant. I recognised them as part of the ex-pat wallpaper.

He leaned over Prim and kissed her, on the cheek, but for a little longer than politeness dictated. ‘Lovely to see you again,’ I heard him whisper. I had taken an instant dislike to him, and that just made it worse.

Primavera leaned back in her chair, back from him, and looked up at me. ‘Steve,’ she said. ‘This is Oz Blackstone, my boyfriend. He just got back from Scotland tonight. Oz, this is Steve Miller.’

I like to think that I’m a friendly guy, but on the odd occasion when someone does get up my nose, I just can’t help clearing it. I stood up, slowly. Miller held out his hand. I shook it, squeezing more powerfully than was necessary.

‘ You know, Steve,’ a voice in my head said, ‘there’s nothing more annoying, even to a placid bloke like me, than some smarmy bastard coming up and slobbering all over your girlfriend, just as if you weren’t there. Now piss off before I take a pop at you.’

‘Hello, Steve,’ I said, instead. I nodded towards the two bodgers in the doorway. ‘Is that your band?’

He looked at me, bewildered.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re no rock n’ roller, eh?’

He looked down at Prim. ‘I think I’d better go.’

‘No comment,’ I said.

Prim scowled at me. ‘Steve,’ she said. ‘I …’

‘No really, I think I should. I don’t want to cause trouble.’

‘Wise man,’ I said. He gave me what was meant to be a hostile look, then turned and made his way back towards his parents.

Prim waved goodnight as the three Millers disappeared around the corner. Then she turned to me. ‘What the hell was that about?’ She shot it at me, as soon as they were out of sight.

‘Good question,’ I said. ‘Who did he think I was? The invisible fucking man?’

She held up her hands. ‘Okay, enough. You’ve had a hard day, and you’re a bit pissed. Let’s call a truce and go home.’

I bent down and kissed her on the cheek, just where Miller had kissed her, but for a significant moment longer. Then I kissed her full on the lips. ‘Truce it is,’ I said. ‘One more beer, and it’s a deal about going home as well.’

She sighed and smiled. ‘All right. But only one.’ She made signs to the waiter, ordering another for herself in the process.

‘Oh, by the way,’ she said, ‘there was a fax coming through just as I left. I didn’t have time to look at it, though.’

‘Fair enough,’ I replied as the beers arrived, then promptly forgot about it as I made a conscious effort to bring my mind back to Spain, to Prim, and to what I had thought was my real world, until the day before.

I could see that she was still upset. I reached out a hand and ruffled her hair. ‘Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry.’ I wasn‘t, of course. I had enjoyed seeing off Mr Miller. ‘I’m sure he’s a very nice bloke. He just caught me on the raw, that’s all.’

Pouting, as only she can, she looked at me, sideways. ‘Boys,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I don’t know.’

It was almost 1 a.m. when we climbed the stairs to the apartment. I didn’t think I was all that pissed, but somehow I managed to get Gavin Scott’s tube tangled between my legs just as we got to the front door. I sprawled forward and lay on the steps, grinning up at Prim. She shook her head, took my bag from me, stepped over me and unlocked the door.

‘I can see this is going to be my lucky night!’ she said as I stumbled in behind her, laughing, slapping her lightly across the bum with the tube.