Between Friends by Jenny Harper Page A

to her if she happened to be the unlucky member of staff who picked up the telephone when a complaint came in.
    A few days after her shopping trip with Emily, Marta’s generally sunny nature was pushed to its limits by a dozen minor but time-consuming and irritating mishaps: a whole bunch of lost theatre tickets; a visitor with a domestic problem back home who needed a flight change urgently; someone who had forgotten to bring vital medication and had no prescription; a lost wallet. So when the telephone rang in the late afternoon, she was more than reluctant to pick it up.
    ‘Can you take it, Marta?’ The request came from her boss and so couldn’t be ignored.
    Marta glanced her colleague Andy, whose desk faced hers. ‘Bad luck,’ he mouthed, then grinned and returned to his work.
    Pulling a wry face, she lifted the receiver. ‘Good afternoon, Tartan Ribbon Tours, how may I help you?’
    ‘Ah, good day to you ma’am, I was wondering if you could put together a special vacation? I guess this might not be your kinda thing, but someone gave me your name. He said you guys were real good at making people feel special.’
    The voice was Texan, rich and sonorous, drawling and slow.
    Marta smiled. ‘That was generous,’ she said in her most helpful voice. ‘We’ll certainly do our best. How can we help?’
    ‘The name’s Drew McGraw. I’m an entrepreneur.’ He said it in the American way, en-tra-pren-oor . ‘I run a business helping scientists turn their research into dollars. Making ideas turn into reality.’
    ‘Sounds interesting.’ She was truly alert now, the phone tucked onto her shoulder, her pen poised above her notebook, her mind already clicking into gear.
    ‘Oh it is, believe me. Fact is – and please, ma’am, this is confidential—’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘—I would like to open an office in Scotland, maybe Edinburgh, maybe Dundee. What I need is a vacation where I can come and do my own little bit of private research if you get my drift, then join up with some colleagues to do Scotland. See the scenery, bit of shooting and fishing, a little fine dining.’
    ‘That sounds fantastic. We can certainly help you with that.’
    ‘Yeah, a little fun, huh? But with a purpose,’ he chuckled.
    Marta was getting a clear picture of the man. He was big, bear-like, but a softie. Nice, but when it came to business, uncompromising. A soft paw, but with strength enough to kill if he chose to. She was warming to Drew McGraw.
    ‘My guests may have partners too, so something to entertain the ladies while the guys are blasting dear little birdies out of the skies.’
    Again he laughed comfortably, the sound making Marta smile too, despite the gruesome vision he had conjured up.
    ‘I need to persuade these guys to invest. Get my drift?’
    ‘I’m beginning to.’
    ‘So it will need to be real smart, money is not a concern, but service and comfort are. Are you up for that?’
    ‘Mr McGraw, the only thing I cannot guarantee for you in Scotland is the weather.’
    ‘I will make my own intercessions for that, ma’am. I was thinking early October? It’s not much notice. Party of eight. I will come a day or two in advance.’
    ‘No problem. It may be cold for fishing, though.’
    She could almost see him shrug, visualised huge shoulders.
    ‘Sure. I guess they’ll know that. Think Tartan Ribbon Tours can come up with the goods?’
    ‘Sure I can. I mean, yes, certainly.’
    They talked through details. Marta put down the phone and sat smiling.
    Andy’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Not another complaint then?’
    ‘Not exactly, no. A new client, with a bit of luck.’
    Marta had always been eager to help others. Carrie and Jane used to tease her about it.
    ‘Honest to God, Marta, do you have to fill your pockets full of rubbish?’ Carrie would protest if they went for a walk. Marta hated to see rubbish discarded carelessly in beautiful places. She picked up carrier bags and cans, sweet wrappers,