She was yelling at me and swearing fit to turn the air blue. I released her. She snatched back her arms and pulled her long sleeves down, still swearing.
When she ran out of breath, I said. ‘OK, so you don’t mainline. But you snorted a line or two before you came out this morning.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ she asked bitterly. ‘If you were stuck in a bloody awful situation like me?’
‘I’ve been stuck in any number of bloody awful situations and I’m in one now,’ I retorted unsympathetically. ‘I’ve always got by without drugs. Where did you get the coke?’
‘This is Oxford,’ she mumbled. ‘You can buy anything.’
‘I don’t care what you do,’ I said. ‘I really don’t, except in one respect.’
‘I’m not going back to London,’ she said, and she meant it.
‘All right, then phone him and say so. But just speak to the guy, will you? Then I’ve fulfilled my commission, done the job to the best of my ability. He won’t pay me but he won’t be mad at me, either.’
‘I’m not contacting Mickey Allerton in any way. I’m not speaking to him on the phone.’ Her mouth was set in a thin obstinate line.
‘Then I don’t get my dog back,’ I said.
She boggled at me.
‘My dog means a lot to me,’ I said. ‘I’m not being sentimental. She’s a real part of my life and she’s Mickey’s prisoner. Look, I’m asking you nicely. Phone Mickey and speak to him. What have you got to lose?’
‘He’ll only say I have to go back.’
‘You haven’t
got
to. Even Mickey must know that. What’s the hassle? Look, he’s not insisting you go back to London. He says there’s some job lined up for you in Spain.’
‘Yeah, he mentioned it,’ she said. ‘Like, he didn’t tell me the details. It was just, “How would you like to work in Spain, doll? Live in a nice place out on the costas?” I don’t, right? I don’t want anything that has Mickey Allerton attached to it.’
We seemed to have reached an impasse but she was eyeing me thoughtfully. ‘Fran, we could do a deal on this.’
I didn’t reply. If she wanted to talk, let her. If she had some bright idea, I needed to hear it. I didn’t need to commit myself in advance. I should have shut up about Bonnie. She probably guessed I’d do anything halfway legal.
She leaned across the table. ‘I’ve got a way out of this, for the time being, at least. A friend rang me last night. She’s a dancer like me but she works on the cruise ships. Those ships run a cabaret every evening for the passengers. She’s signed up for the summer with a company sailing the Norwegian fjords but she’s hurt her ankle. The ship’s at anchor in Amsterdam waiting to sail out again. It leaves the day after tomorrow. If I can get out there I can be a temporary replacement for my friend until her ankle gets better.’
‘So go,’ I said. ‘What’s stopping you?’ I felt numb. She didn’t need to do any deals. All she had to do was go to Amsterdam on a budget flight and for six weeks or so she was safe aboard doing nightly dance routines as part of a group. Six weeks was way long enough for Mickey to lose interest and give up. So what had brought her here to see me? She could cut me right out of the loop.
‘I haven’t got my passport. I left it behind in London when I decided to chuck it all in. I took off in such a hurry, I just forgot it.’
The penny dropped. ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘You want me to fetch it for you.’
‘Fair’s fair,’ she retorted like a child. ‘I want my passport. You want your dog. You get my passport for me. I phone Mickey for you.’
‘The other way round,’ I said. ‘If I do it, you phone Mickey first.’
She sulked again but gave in. ‘OK.’ She pulled the hanky from her sleeve once more and snuffled into it.
‘But I don’t see why you can’t go and fetch it yourself,’ I added.
‘Mickey knows where I live, doesn’t he?’ She started getting angry again. ‘He’s probably got someone looking out for me, just in case I turn up. They won’t know you.’
Like everything else about this business, I didn’t like it. But I agreed. It seemed straightforward enough.
Now we’d come to an agreement, I said, ‘We’ll phone Mickey right now. Have you got a mobile?’
She reached down to a canvas sack at her feet and pulled out a dinky little model with a puce overcoat.
‘Let’s have it!’ I invited.
She handed it over. I tapped in the number Mickey had given me and waited.
‘Yes?’ He didn’t need to say more.
‘Hello, Mr Allerton,’ I said. ‘It’s Fran. I’ve got Lisa here. She doesn’t want to return to London but she’ll speak to you.’
‘Then put her on!’ he said. ‘Why am I wasting time with you?’
Such a nice man. I handed the phone over. Lisa scowled and, holding it gingerly, as if Allerton could somehow jump out of it and join us in the kitchen, said, ‘Hello? This is Lisa.’
I watched her as Allerton said whatever he said. He took his time about it. She listened, stone-faced.
‘I don’t want that,’ she said at last when Allerton had presumably paused for breath.
Another long spiel at the other end.
‘I’ve told you,’ Lisa’s voice rose plaintively. ‘I don’t want to go to Spain. I told you when you suggested it before.’
More from Allerton. Now they were in conversation I ought not to eavesdrop, at least not openly. I got up and tactfully left the kitchen. I stationed myself in the hall, ear pressed against the door panels.
‘I’m not bloody going and I’m not bloody coming back to London! I’ve quit, got that? I’ve quit!’ I heard Lisa yell.
There was a lot more I couldn’t make out. They were obviously having a real barney over the phone.
He must have changed tactics because eventually she seemed to calm down. The last thing I could make out was, ‘Just give me some time, can’t you?’
Was she weakening? Was she seeking to string Allerton along until she could get away on the cruise ship?
I pushed open the door and slipped back into the kitchen.
Obviously the last answer hadn’t pleased Allerton and he had gone off the deep end again. Even I could see the phone was nearly jumping out of Lisa’s grip as he expressed his frustration and fury. Eventually she handed the phone back to me, still stone-faced. ‘He wants to talk to you.’
‘Fran!’ barked Allerton. ‘You can come back to London. I’m washing my hands of that little cow!’
‘What about my dog?’
‘Dog?’ He seemed taken aback as if he’d forgotten Bonnie. ‘Oh, yeah, you can have your dog.’
I handed the phone to Lisa who cut the connection and shut it down. She dropped it back in her bag. ‘All right, then? You’ll go to London, now, this afternoon?’
‘All right,’ I said. What was there left to worry about? I’d got Lisa to speak to Allerton. He’d washed his hands of her. He’d promised my dog would be returned. A quick trip to fetch Lisa’s passport seemed nothing.
We both stood up. Just then the kitchen door opened and Vera marched in. She stopped, looked at me, looked at Lisa and then turned and bolted out again.
‘What . . .’ I began.
But Lisa had turned from white to red in the face. She pushed back the table with a teeth-grinding screech on the tiled floor and hurtled towards the door.
‘You just come back here!’ she was yelling.
But Vera had made good her escape and it was Lisa who returned, panting.
‘You didn’t tell me about her!’ she charged, glaring at me.
‘Tell you what? She makes the breakfasts and the beds. Her name is Vera.’
‘Yeah,’ stormed Lisa. ‘And she’s another mate of Jasna’s, isn’t she? Another Croat! They all hang together! I’ve seen her waiting outside the club for Jasna and they’ve gone off to do the shops, excited like a couple of little kids.’
I remembered Vera with her little cleaner’s cart outside my bedroom door while I was speaking to Ganesh on the mobile, telling him I had arranged to meet Lisa at Christ Church Meadow. I recalled finding her sitting on the stairs eavesdropping on another of my phone conversations with Gan.
‘She snoops,’ I said.
‘You bet she snoops!’ said Lisa viciously. ‘She’s like her pal, Jasna. She listens and she stores stuff away in her head because one day it might be useful.’
‘Well,’ I said heavily, ‘I suppose that’s how Ivo came to be down at Christ Church Meadow yesterday morning. He’s been hanging around here somewhere with Vera feeding him details of my movements. Listen!’ An idea struck me. ‘Perhaps she’s been listening to us, talking in here about my going up to London for your passport?’
Lisa looked doubtful. ‘You went outside while I was talking to Mickey. Was she there?’
‘I didn’t see her,’ I admitted. But then, I hadn’t been looking. I’d been doing my own bit of eavesdropping.
‘I don’t think she knew I was here,’ said Lisa, after some thought. ‘Because she came marching in just now. She wouldn’t have done that if she’d known. She would have been afraid I’d recognise her - and I did! You will still go up to London, won’t you? The job on the cruise ship won’t be repeated. I must get over to Amsterdam. Go now, go today.’
‘Mickey says he’s washed his hands of you,’ I said. ‘You could go yourself.’
‘I’m still scared of him!’ She thrust her angry little face into mine. ‘You
promised
! It was a deal. I spoke to the bloody man and in return you said—’
‘Oh, all right,’ I interrupted. She was wearing me down. Good luck to the fellow members of that dance troupe, stuck on a cruise ship with her for weeks.
Lisa cheered up. ‘That’s wonderful. I’ll go now and book a cheap flight. It’s all working out fine.’
I was glad she felt that way. I saw her out of the place and then climbed the stairs. On the first landing, where the guest rooms were located, I paused. Then I made my way to a narrower stair at the end of the corridor and climbed up again, to find two tiny attic rooms. The door of one was ajar. I looked in. It seemed to be a boxroom. The other door was shut.
I tapped at it. ‘Vera?’
There was no reply but I knew she was there. An empty room and a room with someone in it, even someone holding her breath, feel different.
‘Come on, open up,’ I said. ‘It’s me, Fran. Lisa’s gone home. I promise.’
There was a shuffling and rattling and the door opened a crack. Vera peered through it. ‘What do you want?’
‘I want a chat with you, Vera. Let me in.’
She pulled the door open and stood aside sulkily.
The room was furnished quite nicely: a bed, a sofa, a little table with a television on it, another little table with an electric kettle and necessities for making coffee, a wardrobe built in under the eaves. Cosy. I walked over to the built-in wardrobe and pushed the sliding door aside.
‘What are you doing? Is my room!’ Vera shouted at me.
She darted towards me. I ignored her and, when she grabbed my arm, I shook her off. I reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a sports bag. I unzipped it while she watched me resentfully.
‘I’ve been reading a fashion article in a women’s magazine,’ I said conversationally. ‘But it didn’t say women had started wearing these.’ I held up a pair of Y-front briefs.
‘Sod you,’ said Vera chippily. ‘Is not your business.’
‘Oh yes, it is. You had him hidden up here, didn’t you? Ivo, I mean. How did he get in and out of the house without Beryl seeing him?’
Vera bit her lip and sulked some more. ‘Fire escape,’ she said at last. She nodded towards the window.
I went and peered out. Surely enough, there was an iron fire-escape staircase which started up here and wound its way down the back of the house into the garden. My gaze fell again on the little door in the back wall. There must be an alley behind the houses in this street. I remembered my first night here and the shadow I’d thought I’d seen move against that rear wall. I shivered. Ivo had stood there, silent and still, watching me outlined in my window.
I recalled too the glimpse of someone in pink on the platform at Paddington. Jasna had trailed me to the station and watched to see me board the train. She’d gone back to the Silver Circle and told Ivo to get straight after me. If my eye hadn’t been taken by Pereira, I might have noticed Jasna at Paddington and so much might have been different.