‘Natalie sent for Kim-Jim. But sending for Johnson is something even she can’t manage quite yet, poor dear. We hadn’t a clue he was coming. Though we ought to have known, if we were yacht-watchers. As to a lift…’
I saw what he meant, because I’d thought of it too. The Daimler had smoked-glass windows. You could hide Kim-Jim behind them. You could equally murder him.
I said to Johnson, ‘How well do you know Roger the Gunman?’
‘Roger van Diemen,’ said Ferdy patiently, as if it wasn’t obvious. ‘He’s been running about threatening to knock off both Kim-Jim and Rita. Believes they’re after Natalie’s money, or some such nonsense. Natalie persuaded him to get out of Madeira, but he won’t go if he finds out Kim-Jim has arrived. And he’s in the airport building somewhere now.’
Johnson opened his mouth. Before he actually said anything, I had thought of something else.
‘He saw you!’ I said to Johnson. ‘That’s why he didn’t get on the bloody plane! Not because of Ferdy on top of me. But because…’
‘… of me on top of Ferdy on top of you?’ offered Johnson, frowning.
Ferdy’s face cleared. He said, ‘Oh my God, that pullover’s awful,’ which he’d said already. Johnson, drinking, lifted his glass a little first, as though Ferdy had paid him a compliment.
Then Johnson said, ‘I haven’t met van Diemen in years, and of course Mr Curtis is welcome to a lift. How will he get from here to the car? Air hostess’s skirt and blouse?’
Men really are idiots. I said, ‘He’s far too tall. Put him in a trolley with a rug over him, and take him round the far side of the car.’
The only one to object to that was Kim-Jim, who was embarrassed at all the fuss, and anyway didn’t really believe, I think, that he was in any danger, which meant that the paint on my face was still holding out.
Then a porter had to be sent out for the uniformed Lenny, who brought us a rug and a trolley, and told Aurelio what was happening.
Next, just as we were loading Kim-Jim into the blind side of the Daimler, someone had to go back to fetch my straw hat, which had fallen off in the VIP lounge.
‘Anyway,’ Ferdy said, ‘what’s so damned important about that lousy hat?’
I explained.
Ferdy said, ‘Well, come on. Aurelio’ll drive you to the sledge station and I’ll come and protect you from Eduardo. Unless I’m spoiling something?’
Johnson’s man Lenny, getting on with it, packed the Owner into the passenger seat of the Daimler and skipped round the front to take the wheel. In the back, Kim-Jim was folded under the rug, sneezing at intervals.
The Owner’s window slid down with a drone, and Johnson’s voice said, ‘Why don’t we all go? Mrs Sheridan’s butler can drive straight home now, and I can drop you both with Mr Curtis.’
Ferdy likes Daimlers. He has at least one of his own, but this was a newer model. He said, ‘Don’t you want to get in and rest?’
‘It’s quite restful, sitting here,’ Johnson said. ‘I’m not sure I’m fully up to explaining Mr Curtis and the rug, though. Why not get in?’
So Ferdy and I sent Aurelio home, and both got into Johnson’s car, putting our feet on Kim-Jim as on Bessie.
The Daimler started off in frightening silence, like a stationary train when it’s the next one that’s moving.
I said, ‘What about Bessie?’
‘With the Great Old English Shepherd in the Sky,’ Johnson remarked to the windscreen.
I thought he liked Bessie. I began to say so. Ferdy kicked me, but got Kim-Jim instead on the ear, which at least must have stopped him worrying over who Bessie was. I still found it hard to forgive Pal Johnson travelling all the way from Lisbon with Kim-Jim Curtis and not letting on that he knew me.
It depended, of course, on what Johnson’s interest in tall, nice-looking Americans actually was. I wished I could rely on Kim-Jim to tell me. I could do with a really big edge on Pal Johnson.
Then Ferdy said, ‘Stop!’
I saw what he meant, because I’d thought of it too. The Daimler had smoked-glass windows. You could hide Kim-Jim behind them. You could equally murder him.
I said to Johnson, ‘How well do you know Roger the Gunman?’
‘Roger van Diemen,’ said Ferdy patiently, as if it wasn’t obvious. ‘He’s been running about threatening to knock off both Kim-Jim and Rita. Believes they’re after Natalie’s money, or some such nonsense. Natalie persuaded him to get out of Madeira, but he won’t go if he finds out Kim-Jim has arrived. And he’s in the airport building somewhere now.’
Johnson opened his mouth. Before he actually said anything, I had thought of something else.
‘He saw you!’ I said to Johnson. ‘That’s why he didn’t get on the bloody plane! Not because of Ferdy on top of me. But because…’
‘… of me on top of Ferdy on top of you?’ offered Johnson, frowning.
Ferdy’s face cleared. He said, ‘Oh my God, that pullover’s awful,’ which he’d said already. Johnson, drinking, lifted his glass a little first, as though Ferdy had paid him a compliment.
Then Johnson said, ‘I haven’t met van Diemen in years, and of course Mr Curtis is welcome to a lift. How will he get from here to the car? Air hostess’s skirt and blouse?’
Men really are idiots. I said, ‘He’s far too tall. Put him in a trolley with a rug over him, and take him round the far side of the car.’
The only one to object to that was Kim-Jim, who was embarrassed at all the fuss, and anyway didn’t really believe, I think, that he was in any danger, which meant that the paint on my face was still holding out.
Then a porter had to be sent out for the uniformed Lenny, who brought us a rug and a trolley, and told Aurelio what was happening.
Next, just as we were loading Kim-Jim into the blind side of the Daimler, someone had to go back to fetch my straw hat, which had fallen off in the VIP lounge.
‘Anyway,’ Ferdy said, ‘what’s so damned important about that lousy hat?’
I explained.
Ferdy said, ‘Well, come on. Aurelio’ll drive you to the sledge station and I’ll come and protect you from Eduardo. Unless I’m spoiling something?’
Johnson’s man Lenny, getting on with it, packed the Owner into the passenger seat of the Daimler and skipped round the front to take the wheel. In the back, Kim-Jim was folded under the rug, sneezing at intervals.
The Owner’s window slid down with a drone, and Johnson’s voice said, ‘Why don’t we all go? Mrs Sheridan’s butler can drive straight home now, and I can drop you both with Mr Curtis.’
Ferdy likes Daimlers. He has at least one of his own, but this was a newer model. He said, ‘Don’t you want to get in and rest?’
‘It’s quite restful, sitting here,’ Johnson said. ‘I’m not sure I’m fully up to explaining Mr Curtis and the rug, though. Why not get in?’
So Ferdy and I sent Aurelio home, and both got into Johnson’s car, putting our feet on Kim-Jim as on Bessie.
The Daimler started off in frightening silence, like a stationary train when it’s the next one that’s moving.
I said, ‘What about Bessie?’
‘With the Great Old English Shepherd in the Sky,’ Johnson remarked to the windscreen.
I thought he liked Bessie. I began to say so. Ferdy kicked me, but got Kim-Jim instead on the ear, which at least must have stopped him worrying over who Bessie was. I still found it hard to forgive Pal Johnson travelling all the way from Lisbon with Kim-Jim Curtis and not letting on that he knew me.
It depended, of course, on what Johnson’s interest in tall, nice-looking Americans actually was. I wished I could rely on Kim-Jim to tell me. I could do with a really big edge on Pal Johnson.
Then Ferdy said, ‘Stop!’
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