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up with us there when you've got changed. You know, spring a surprise on her."
"OK."
"And by then .. ." He winked. "I might have news of my old school chum."
Supper with Syd Porteous and Audrey the eligible widow wouldn't have been my choice of late-night entertainment, but at least it sounded safe, which, with Denis's misadventures in mind, was an undeniably good thing. I excused myself from a prolonged session at the Cricketers on the excellent grounds that Syd would want me to be at my act orly best come the evening and took myself off for a fish and chip lunch. Gavin Colborn promised to be a valuable contact, possibly invaluable: an embittered uncle to tell me the worst about his well-heeled, good-looking nephew. Or the best, depending on your point of view.
A couple of hours' zizz was what I needed to set me up for the evening.
I headed for the Sea Air with that as my sole ambition for the afternoon. Halfway along Madeira Place, however, I was waylaid.
I noticed a sleekly glowing dark-blue Porsche parked on the other side of the road. One admiring glance was all I gave it. Then I heard the door slam and my name was called. "Toby Flood?" I turned and looked.
And there was Roger Colborn in jeans, leather jacket and sweatshirt, leaning against the driver's door and gazing across at me. He smiled faintly, as if daring me to pretend I didn't know who he was.
"Can we have a chat?"
I crossed over to his side, elaborately checking for traffic to give my brain a chance to work out what he was up to. It failed. "Roger Colborn," I announced neutrally.
"Pleased to meet you, Toby." He offered a hand. We shook. "I've just been having lunch with Jenny."
"Oh yes?"
"She told me about the help you've been giving her ... with this little shit, Oswin."
I nodded. "Right."
"I'm ahead of my schedule today. So, I thought I'd come over and thank you. In person."
"There was no need."
"When someone goes out of their way for me, I like to acknowledge the fact."
"But I didn't... go out of my way for you."
"For me. For Jenny. Same difference." His smile broadened. "Busy this afternoon?"
"Not really, no."
"Then come for a drive with me. I reckon we ought to ... get to know each other."
"You do?"
"It'll avoid any .. . future misunderstandings. Come on. This beauty's been cooped up while I've been away. I need to give her a run. Why not come along? We can talk on the way. And let's face it, Toby, we do need to talk."
Colborn had a point. He also had an edge of steel beneath the thin, silky affability. I could have argued the case for declining his invitation. But the case for gleaning whatever there was to be gleaned from his company was a good deal stronger.
We started north, the Porsche dawdling throatily along the city streets, then struck east towards the racecourse. Colborn's priority seemed to be to explain why he and Jenny had kept each other in the dark where Derek Oswin was concerned, although he must have realized I'd place my own construction on that, whatever he said.
"There's been a communications failure, Toby, in this case for the best of reasons. Neither of us wanted to worry the other. I know Oswin of old, of course. I've been ignoring him in the hope that he'll go away.
It never occurred to me that he'd bother Jenny. Seeing him with a video of one of your old films naturally made her think his interest in her had something to do with you. There you have it."
"I quite understand."
"I'm glad you do. And, like I say, I'm also grateful. To be honest, I think it's a good thing we've met like this. You and Jenny were together quite a while. There's no sense trying to pretend your relationship with her never happened. It's part of her. We're adults, you and me. We know how it works. We should be able to deal with it."
"I agree."
"Great. So, what have you got lined up after this play?"
"Oh, there are several possibilities." I had no intention of discussing the state of my career with
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