Authors: Debbie Viggiano
‘Strada Restaurant,’ said a disembodied voice, ‘a very gooda evenin’ to you.’
‘Hello. Do you do takeaway?’
‘Sir, I theenk you wanna the Chinese. Four doors down.’
‘Look mate. I’m a detective.’ Si stared at the frolicking squirrels. ‘I’m with Special Branch. I have two of your diners under surveillance. I can’t move from my post. I’ll pay double if you can deliver to me. I’m opposite the restaurant. A white van. I’ll give you the registration number.’
‘Oh my Gods,’ squawked the waiter. ‘Let me find pen. Yes sir. I now have pen.’
Si gave him the registration number. ‘Meanwhile I want lasagne and garlic bread. Oh, and some cutlery.’
‘Yes sir. Theese peoples you watching. Whadda they look like?’
‘The man is blond. Tanned. He’s with a woman. She’s small and–’
‘Yes!’ the waiter squeaked. ‘Oh my Gods I see them. Are zay dangerous?’
‘They pose no threat to civilians. The man is a cocaine baron. The woman is a dealer. We’ve had a tip off their meeting is to discuss drugs. If you hear any conversation I would be very pleased to know. This is my number.’ Si reeled off his mobile number. ‘Please could you ask the chef to prioritise my meal? I’d be very grateful.’
‘Of course Sir. I do it right now.’
Si hung up. Fifteen minutes later the waiter erupted out of the restaurant. Si buzzed the window down. The waiter bustled up to the driver’s side.
‘Gooda evening Detective.’
‘Cheers mate.’ Si took the covered plate and cutlery.
‘I wanna you to know the suspects are discussing the merits of Peruvian wine. I suspect they talk in code. Maybe the droogs go to Peru, no?’
‘Spot on my man.’ Si handed him three tenners.
‘They also discuss meeting again tomorrow. I have address here.’
That rocked Si. He took the piece of paper. ‘Valuable information indeed.’
‘Anytimes.’ The waiter gave a little bow and hastened away.
Si checked the address. So Barry had a posh pad in Greenwich did he? Git. Si put the address in his wallet. It nestled against Barry’s mobile number that Si had retained. Si turned his attention to the lasagne and garlic bread. He wondered what Barry and Steph were eating. Time passed. It grew dark. The restaurant door opened. Steph was coming out. The street lamps lit up her face. She was laughing. Barry followed close behind. He put an arm casually around her shoulders. Si’s eyes narrowed. Where were they going? He started the van up. They were walking towards Blackheath Station. Si pulled out. He put his foot down and shot down a back-double. He didn’t want to be spotted. Racing back to the station from the opposite direction, he hoped Steph wouldn’t notice a familiar white van. There they were! Si slowed to a crawl. And then he felt as though he’d been slugged in the stomach. Any worries Si had about being spotted went right out the window. If he were to streak past his wife right now with all his kit off, she wouldn’t notice. Steph and Barry Hastings were kissing. And the kiss went on and on and on.
Chapter Forty Seven
Tom had agreed to go to a salsa class with his mate Aiden for a number of reasons. Firstly, it was cheap. Secondly, it was another way of meeting females. Thirdly, he had nothing else to do. But fourthly – and most importantly – Tom wanted to be out of the house. He was petrified Amanda would turn up. Or her husband. Mighty Mark. There’d been a lesson there. Just because a guy didn’t have bulging biceps, never assume he wasn’t strong. Amanda had been ringing Tom nonstop. When he’d failed to pick up, she’d resorted to texting. In her second to last text she’d threatened to kill herself. When he’d failed to respond, she’d sent another text threatening to kill Tom instead. He’d turned his phone off.
Tom looked around the hall. There had to be over a hundred people here. He couldn’t see June, or the old boy she’d been snogging on her doorstep. The dance tutor was very obviously gay. Nonetheless his blond good looks were causing havoc with the Cougars. The dance tutor clapped his hands for attention.
‘Okay everybody. I am Darrius. Good evening and welcome. If you’re with somebody...too bad. I want you to turn to the person on your right and partner up with them. You will be changing partners every few minutes. If you’re not with somebody, you might be lucky and get me.’
There was a cackle of laughter from the Cougars. Tom turned to his right. An old girl with a blue rinse grinned up at him.
‘Ooh a bit of totty,’ she giggled girlishly. ‘I’m Doris.’
Tom smiled disarmingly. ‘Tom. And for the next five minutes I’m all yours.’
‘Cheeky boy!’
‘Hold your partners like this,’ instructed Darrius. Tom held Doris like so. ‘I want you to count in beats of six. Watch.’ Darrius wiggled his hips one way. ‘One, two, three.’ Darrius wiggled back again. ‘Four, five, six.’
Tom copied clumsily.
‘Like this dear,’ said Doris.
She pushed Tom forward and then back again. Doris was surprisingly nimble on her feet.
‘That’s good,’ Darrius informed everyone. ‘Now we do it again to music.’
As the evening progressed, Tom was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. He looked over at Aiden. His mate was clearly enthralled by a blonde teenager with a Katie Price chest. Tom snorted with laughter. The laughter died on his lips when Tom found himself without a partner and Darrius standing beside him.
‘We don’t have equal numbers tonight. It is your turn to partner me. I will be the woman. You are leading. Are you ready pretty boy?’
Tom felt horribly flustered. The tutor pressed a remote control and the music began again. Tom put one hand on Darrius’ shoulder and held the other. He felt ill at ease. He didn’t know what to do any more or where to look. Darrius hit the remote control button and the music stopped.
‘People,’ he called imperiously. ‘It is imperative to look at your partner when dancing. This is the dance of lovers. It is erotic. Spellbinding. Your eyes must say it all. I will demonstrate.’
Darrius pulled Tom into the centre of the hall. Everybody laughed. A couple of the Cougars gave noisy wolf whistles. Tom nearly died of embarrassment. He could see Aiden creasing up.
‘Your name?’ asked Darrius.
‘Tom,’ Tom mumbled.
‘Okay. Ready? Look at me Tom. I said LOOK AT ME! And one, two, three. Keep that eye contact! Four, five, six. Eyes Tom! Better. Now we do it to music. Watch everybody please.’
Darrius hit the remote control. He minced forward and back. His eyes bored into Tom. Tom blinked. Darrius didn’t. He held unwavering eye contact. Tom felt as though Darrius were reading his mind. He felt exposed. A smile played around Darrius’ mouth. Tom cringed. Darrius’ eyes spoke volumes. And then suddenly Darrius was breaking away, pushing Tom back into the dance circle while he pointed his remote control at the hi-fi. Tom assumed a partner change was coming up again. He turned to the person on his right. It was the blonde girl Aiden had looked smitten with. Tom straightened up. Time to flatter another female. And this one would do very nicely.
At that precise moment Darrius clapped his hands for attention. ‘Okay everybody. We’ll now have a fifteen minute break. Go have a cold drink. Cool down.’ His eyes found Tom’s. Tom looked away. He turned his attention to the blonde.
‘Hi. I’m going to have a lager. Can I buy you a drink?’
‘Sure. Thanks.’
‘You’re not with anybody?’ Tom asked. ‘I don’t want to tread on your boyfriend’s toes – although I’ve trodden on plenty of others this evening.’
The girl laughed. ‘I’m definitely on my own. I thought I’d try this place out. I’ve heard lots of old guys come here.’
Tom stood at the bar. He could see Aiden pushing his way over. Tom flashed a look that said
too late sucker
. Aiden’s shoulders drooped and he retreated. Tom pulled his wallet from a back pocket. Thankfully his father had given him twenty quid recently. He gave the barmen their order.
‘So what do you want to meet old guys for?’ Tom asked conversationally.
‘I’ll be perfectly honest with you,’ said the girl. ‘I’m looking for a husband. Older guys are more likely to want to settle down.’
‘So you wouldn’t be interested in the likes of me,’ Tom smiled.
‘Only for fun. If you catch my drift.’ The girl gave Tom a very direct look.
‘Absolutely.’ Tom returned the look. Better and better. She wasn’t interested in commitment, just bedroom high jinks.
‘Aren’t you a bit young to be thinking of getting married? You can’t be more than eighteen.’
‘I don’t want to work,’ the girl shrugged. ‘I have no qualifications and I don’t want to stack shelves in Tesco.’
Tom winced. Better to keep this girl away from his mum in the future.
‘Well there’s always further education. You could get qualifications.’
‘I can’t be bothered,’ the girl shrugged. ‘I want someone to look after me. That’s why I want an old guy. They’re usually the ones with the money.’
‘Very mercenary.’ Tom handed her the drink.
‘Not really. I just know what I want in life.’
‘Well you sound like my sort of girl. I’m Tom by the way.’
The girl took a sip of her drink and looked up at him. ‘And I’m Melody.’
Chapter Forty Eight
Steph was the first to break the kiss. She pulled back from Barry, breathless. Her heart was beating very fast. She could almost feel the blood whooshing around her body. Who needed a gym for cardiovascular workouts when all you had to do was snog someone like Barry Hastings? Steph smiled shakily. Breathe. Just breathe. In. Out.
‘Well!’ she exhaled noisily. Her legs were in danger of giving way. She wondered if Barry would mind if she had a little lay down. Preferably right here on the pavement, outside Blackheath Station.
‘Are you okay Steffy?’
Steph nodded moronically. She didn’t think she’d ever be okay again. Right now she had some very strange, conflicting emotions racing through her.
‘Shall I see you onto your train?’
Steph nodded again.
‘You’re very quiet all of a sudden. Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yes,’ Steph smiled brightly. ‘Just feeling a bit, you know–’ she cast around helplessly. What was this strange sensation? It had been so long since she’d experienced it. Ah yes. Lust. ‘Hot!’ Steph fanned herself with her hand. ‘Phew!’ She wasn’t lying either. The familiar red flush was creeping up her neck.
‘Come on. Let me see you onto your train.’
Barry walked to the platform with her. A part of Steph hoped the train would be cancelled so that she’d have extra time with Barry. But the voice of reason wanted Steph to catch the train quickly and distance herself. Steph was very aware that she was sailing into unchartered waters. It was all very well letting her heart lead her into romance with Barry Hastings, but her head was ringing loud warning bells.
‘Bye my darling,’ Barry kissed her on the lips, briefly this time. ‘Until tomorrow.’
Steph walked through the train’s automatic doors. ‘Bye.’ The doors hissed shut. As the train pulled off, Barry put up a hand. Steph waved back. Seconds later he was out of sight. She made her way over to an available seat. Leaning back against the head rest, Steph went over the evening.
A hen party had been in full, riotous flow. The hens had sunk three bottles of champagne and laughed raucously throughout their meal. Barry and Steph had ended up yelling across the table to each other. And then there had been that peculiar waiter. He’d sidled up to take their order, but ended up almost camping out at the next table. At first Steph had flattered herself thinking the waiter fancied her. And then, because the waiter had stared so hard at Barry, she’d presumed he’d fancied Barry instead. In the end she’d decided the waiter was just plain odd.
The meal hadn’t been a romantic success. But then again, it wasn’t meant to have been. It had been set up under the safe heading of
school friend reunion
. However, Steph didn’t need her old Headmaster to point out that somewhere over the candlelight and wine, there had been a connection. A chemistry. After all, not many old school chums concluded the evening by snogging the faces off each other. Steph felt very guilty about that. Despite Si’s indiscretions, she was still married to him. Kissing another man didn’t sit comfortably with her conscience. Thinking about Barry’s kiss made her go hot again. She couldn’t deny that it had been wonderful. Thrilling. Intoxicating. As she’d stood on the pavement with Barry’s lips locked on hers, the years had fallen away. She’d felt transported back in time. It was as if a teenager within her had awakened. A part of Steph had stepped out of her forty-five year old body. Suddenly she was no longer the wife of a faithless husband or mother to a sex-mad son. She was young again.
Desirable.
And it had felt so damn good! But now? Well, now she was back to being forty-five year old Steph Garvey – with sensible bullet points firing off in her brain. Steph’s mind trawled through them:
Barry Hastings wasn’t married. Good news. But – bad news – Steph was. But probably not for much longer. However, Barry hadn’t been entirely truthful in his e-mails. He
had
been married. Steph wrestled with her conscience. So what? If she and Si divorced – which was very likely – she would then be the same as Barry. A person with a past. But, her conscience pointed out, there was a little bit more to it than that, wasn’t there? Steph’s mind frantically tried to dodge the final bullet point that demanded acknowledgement. Okay, okay. Steph mentally put up her hands in surrender. He’d been married more than once. Where was the sin in that? The bullet point whacked her on the head. Didn’t she think six times was a bit much though? Her conscience boggled at her.
Six times
!
‘Six times?’ Steph had gasped. The waiter had leant in, his brow furrowing in concentration.
‘Yes,’ Barry had said. ‘Absolute God-awful track record. I’m so ashamed to tell you this Steffy.’
‘Whatever went wrong?’ The waiter had left his table and come right up to theirs. Picking up the wine bottle, he’d topped up their glasses. V-e-r-y slowly.
‘The first time I married,’ Barry paused. ‘Well. I was far too young. And so was she. Went off with somebody else.’