Майкл Ридпат - Fatal Error

He looked up and his eyes met mine. His face broke into a wide smile, and he strode over to me. ‘Davo! How the devil are you!’ He held out his hand and pumped mine. ‘Let’s get you a drink.’ He peered at his full glass, downed it all, and dragged me over to a waitress with a tray. He swapped his empty glass for a full one, and handed me my first. ‘Cheers,’ he said.

An extraordinary wave of relief swept over me, as though a ball of tension that had been screwed up tightly somewhere inside me for the last five years had been released. I had assumed Guy would never want to talk to me again and I had told myself that this didn’t matter. I now realized it did. I also realized Guy was drunk. That was fine with me, but it did mean I had some catching up to do.

‘Thank God you’ve come,’ said Guy. ‘Do you remember those two? I don’t. But they seem to think we were best mates at school. Tedious as hell.’

My immediate thought was that they couldn’t possibly have more boring lives than mine.

‘So, what are you up to, Davo?’

‘Working undercover.’

‘Working undercover! Who for?’

‘I can’t tell you. Well, I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. And that would be messy. I’ve been specially trained, you know. You wouldn’t stand a chance. What about you?’

‘I’m a famous actor.’

‘Famous actor, eh? How come I’ve never heard of you, then?’

‘I don’t use my real name. I’ve been in a lot of big movies recently. The Division, Morty’s Fall.’

‘I saw Morty’s Fall ,’ I said. ‘I didn’t recognize you in that.’

‘That’s because I’m such a good actor.’

Just then, a big man with square shoulders and a rugby-player’s neck clapped his hands for attention. He was the new headmaster, and he talked about the school and how it needed money for a new theatre. He was inspiring in a down-to-earth way. But my attention was distracted by Guy. He seemed to have come to some kind of silent arrangement with a pretty black waitress who kept bringing us new glasses of wine.

We drank them.

‘Hey, isn’t that Mel Dean over there?’ Guy whispered.

I followed his glance. It was Mel. Dressed in a smart navy blue suit. And with her was Ingrid Da Cunha.

‘You’re right.’

‘Shall we go and talk to them?’

‘Yeah. If you like.’ I was surprised Guy actually wanted to talk to Mel, but I welcomed the chance to see Ingrid again.

Just then the headmaster stopped talking, there was clapping and the crowd, which had been becoming increasingly restless, began to move again. Guy and I weaved our way through to the two women. Guy gently placed his hand on Mel’s behind. She swung round, ready to say something sharp. When she saw who it was she froze, stunned.

‘Hi, Mel,’ Guy said. ‘You look amazed to see me. I did go to Broadhill, you know. They have to let me in, although I’m sure they don’t want to. You remember Davo.’

He kissed Mel and Ingrid on both cheeks. Neither of them had changed very much since school. Mel wore significantly less make-up, and the blonde streak in her dark hair had disappeared. But she still had the pouting softness that I was sure had first attracted Guy. Ingrid looked relaxed and tanned, as though she had just come back from a holiday. She gave us both a warm wide smile.

Mel recovered. ‘Have you been groping every woman in the room, or am I specially privileged?’

‘Only you, Mel. Although I could include Ingrid if she asked nicely.’

‘Little chance of that,’ said Ingrid.

Within a minute, we were all four talking like old friends; old friends who hadn’t seen each other for a couple of months, perhaps, but who had no trouble catching up. Guy, abetted by his pet waitress, kept everyone topped up and knocked back huge quantities of wine himself. He seemed to be able to take it well enough: practice, I assumed. Meanwhile I was getting pleasantly drunk.

Time passed and suddenly we were some of the last people left in the room. Guy looked at his watch. ‘Anyone want some dinner?’ he asked. ‘I know a good place near here.’

Mel glanced at Ingrid, who nodded her agreement, and soon we were out on the street and heading towards Bays-water. Guy led us into a Greek restaurant, ordered some retsina, and we were away. The group seemed to split into two, with Guy concentrating on Mel, who was quite drunk by now and giggling ecstatically at everything he was saying.

‘You’re not really working undercover for the CIA, are you?’ asked Ingrid.

I shook my head. ‘No, it’s much worse than that.’

‘Really?’

‘Look, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to leave the table immediately.’

‘OK.’

‘I’m training to be a chartered accountant.’

‘Oh, my God,’ said Ingrid. ‘Are you sure I can’t leave?’

‘You promised.’

‘I’ve heard about people like you, but I didn’t know they really existed.’

‘We do. But we’re not let out much, so we’re not a threat to society.’

‘It can’t be that bad.’

‘Oh, it can,’ I said, thinking of my fun-filled afternoon in Nostro Reconciliations.

‘Mel’s doing her articles to be a solicitor. That must be almost as dull.’

We looked over at Mel, who had just exploded in a shriek of laughter, eyes shining and hair all over the place.

‘I’m sure she’ll make a perfect lawyer. Sober, serious, reliable.’

‘We’re all grown-ups now,’ Ingrid said.

‘So what do you do when you’re not editing Vogue ?’

‘Actually I’m a sub-editor on Patio World . It’s a new title. You may not have heard of it.’

‘Not yet. But I’ll be sure to subscribe.’

‘Well hurry, because I think they’re going to close it down soon. It’s only been going six months, but it’s been a bit of a disaster.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Don’t worry. They won’t blame me. They’ll find something else for me to do.’

‘I’m surprised you’re still in England. I’d have imagined you somewhere far more exotic.’

‘But London is exotic. The sky with all those fascinating tinges of grey. The people with their low-key warmth and friendliness. Very low key. And I find those dark wet winters so romantic.’

‘A real aficionado.’

‘Actually, it’s nice just to be in one place for once. My mother’s moved to New York with a new man and I’m so grateful I don’t have to follow her around the world any more. There is something pleasantly stable about London. And it’s a good place for my career.’

‘No better place for patios.’

‘When I’m running my own publishing empire, I’ll know where I can find someone to add up cab fares.’

‘I’d be more than happy to help,’ I said. ‘Just don’t forget to keep the receipts.’

‘I’ll start a special collection for you today.’

I poured us both another glass of wine. ‘It’s nice to see you again,’ I said. ‘You were kind to me in France. And I don’t know what I’d have done without that two hundred francs you lent me.’

‘I was so pleased to get out of there,’ said Ingrid with a shudder. ‘That was one of the more unpleasant experiences of my life.’

We were both silent, watching Guy and Mel.

Guy noticed us and seemed to sober up. ‘What are you two thinking about?’

Ingrid didn’t answer. ‘Nothing,’ I said.

Guy leaned forward. ‘It was France, wasn’t it?’

I nodded. Mel was suddenly still.

Guy poured out the dregs from the second bottle of retsina. ‘Well, let me tell you something. That was five years ago, when we were all still kids. I’ve forgotten about France. Totally and completely. And I hope you all will too. Is that a deal?’