so natural she didn’t even realise it was there, as if it was quite normal to dismiss someone because of their rank. That’s the life of a movie star for you, even one on the downward escalator of her career.
‘It’s probably not important,’ I said. ‘I don’t suppose I might have a drink?’ Really I just wanted to change the subject and get her back on innocuous ground for a while. Not that I was opposed to something to settle my nerves.
‘Gin?’ she asked. ‘Or vodka?’
‘Vodka’s fine,’ I said. She paused for a moment, then realised I didn’t know where she kept her liquor so could hardly help myself. She shuffled over to a cabinet in the corner and poured herself a gin and me a vodka. She stared at them for a moment, trying to remember what it was they might lack, then took both drinks out of the room and into the kitchen where I heard her ferret around in the freezer for some ice. She returned, still looking at the drinks.
‘That one’s yours,’ she said, passing it to me.
‘Thank you,’ I took a sip and was grateful to note we paid her well enough to afford decent spirits. I drank it quickly. I wasn’t tired – though I hoped the vodka would help – but I didn’t want to talk to Alexandra Hoss any more for now. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.’
‘Of course.’ She still hadn’t touched her drink but she used it to point out of the room. ‘Right across the hall, spare room, bathroom’s next door.’
There was nowhere obvious to place my glass so I took it with me into her kitchen, rinsed it under the tap and upended it onto the draining board.
I walked back through the lounge. Alexandra had drained her drink in my absence. I wondered about that – in my experience it was an alcoholic’s habit, they always hide the act of drinking. I supposed it hardly mattered, this wasn’t my network, and Alexandra Hoss was not my responsibility.
She walked behind me as I left the room, gesturing again towards the spare bedroom door and vanishing off into her own room without another word.
The spare bedroom was a forgotten room. Even the sheets had dust on them. On the wall was a picture of Alexandra taken, at a rough guess, at the age she’d been when she’d last entered the room. It was a cheesecake shot of the sort that pretended it was better than calendar fare simply because it didn’t contain tyres. She was lying back on a stone bench, surrounded by moss-covered statuary. Several cherubs were as unmoved as I by the sight of her. It seemed strange to sleep beneath a life-size photograph of your host’s exposed genitalia but I would do my best.
The bed was an improvement on the one at Frau Schwarz’s but I was still too wired to sleep and I lay there staring at the window, waiting for the light of dawn to break.
Just as I thought I might drift off, I became aware of the sound of talking from Alexandra’s bedroom. Was there someone else in the apartment?
I slid out of bed and moved to the door. Wary of making a noise I slowly pressed down the handle and was relieved it opened silently. It was pitch black in the hallway but for a faint light from beneath her door. I tiptoed across to it and pressed my ear to her door. She was speaking quietly, and there was no audible reply so I decided she must either be losing her mind – a possibility I struggled to entirely dismiss – or, more likely, was talking on the phone.
‘I’ll do whatever I can,’ she said. ‘You know that. I just wish you were here. You’d be more comfortable here.’
A pause.
‘I know, I know… but surely it would have been all right. He’s a friend after all.’
Another pause.
‘You know I don’t mind the risk… I’m sure, if he’s friend he’d also…’
How tempting it was simply to burst in and say ‘For God’s sake, just pass me the phone and let me talk to him.’
‘All right, all right, I won’t say anything. You know you can trust me. Wait…’
She shifted in
‘It’s probably not important,’ I said. ‘I don’t suppose I might have a drink?’ Really I just wanted to change the subject and get her back on innocuous ground for a while. Not that I was opposed to something to settle my nerves.
‘Gin?’ she asked. ‘Or vodka?’
‘Vodka’s fine,’ I said. She paused for a moment, then realised I didn’t know where she kept her liquor so could hardly help myself. She shuffled over to a cabinet in the corner and poured herself a gin and me a vodka. She stared at them for a moment, trying to remember what it was they might lack, then took both drinks out of the room and into the kitchen where I heard her ferret around in the freezer for some ice. She returned, still looking at the drinks.
‘That one’s yours,’ she said, passing it to me.
‘Thank you,’ I took a sip and was grateful to note we paid her well enough to afford decent spirits. I drank it quickly. I wasn’t tired – though I hoped the vodka would help – but I didn’t want to talk to Alexandra Hoss any more for now. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.’
‘Of course.’ She still hadn’t touched her drink but she used it to point out of the room. ‘Right across the hall, spare room, bathroom’s next door.’
There was nowhere obvious to place my glass so I took it with me into her kitchen, rinsed it under the tap and upended it onto the draining board.
I walked back through the lounge. Alexandra had drained her drink in my absence. I wondered about that – in my experience it was an alcoholic’s habit, they always hide the act of drinking. I supposed it hardly mattered, this wasn’t my network, and Alexandra Hoss was not my responsibility.
She walked behind me as I left the room, gesturing again towards the spare bedroom door and vanishing off into her own room without another word.
The spare bedroom was a forgotten room. Even the sheets had dust on them. On the wall was a picture of Alexandra taken, at a rough guess, at the age she’d been when she’d last entered the room. It was a cheesecake shot of the sort that pretended it was better than calendar fare simply because it didn’t contain tyres. She was lying back on a stone bench, surrounded by moss-covered statuary. Several cherubs were as unmoved as I by the sight of her. It seemed strange to sleep beneath a life-size photograph of your host’s exposed genitalia but I would do my best.
The bed was an improvement on the one at Frau Schwarz’s but I was still too wired to sleep and I lay there staring at the window, waiting for the light of dawn to break.
Just as I thought I might drift off, I became aware of the sound of talking from Alexandra’s bedroom. Was there someone else in the apartment?
I slid out of bed and moved to the door. Wary of making a noise I slowly pressed down the handle and was relieved it opened silently. It was pitch black in the hallway but for a faint light from beneath her door. I tiptoed across to it and pressed my ear to her door. She was speaking quietly, and there was no audible reply so I decided she must either be losing her mind – a possibility I struggled to entirely dismiss – or, more likely, was talking on the phone.
‘I’ll do whatever I can,’ she said. ‘You know that. I just wish you were here. You’d be more comfortable here.’
A pause.
‘I know, I know… but surely it would have been all right. He’s a friend after all.’
Another pause.
‘You know I don’t mind the risk… I’m sure, if he’s friend he’d also…’
How tempting it was simply to burst in and say ‘For God’s sake, just pass me the phone and let me talk to him.’
‘All right, all right, I won’t say anything. You know you can trust me. Wait…’
She shifted in
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