as well.
âThanks for your time,â I said.
âDonât mention it,â he said. âPlease. Not to anyone. I must admit I could have spent it more fruitfully. Take care of yourself. Or maybe you should get somebody else to do it for you.â
He had chewed me up nicely. This was him spitting me out. As he walked back to his friends, leaving me standing, I noticed that his stomach had the protuberance of a Russian doll. I wondered how many smaller men were hiding inside the polished confidence of his exterior. I intended to find out.
12
I drove to 28 Sycamore Road. My route was hardly direct. I cruised the countryside for a while. I stopped beside a bridge above the Bringan, an area of woods and fields we had known as boys. I leaned on the parapet and watched the river running. It looked like melting glass below the bridge. Downstream it hit the rocks and the glass went frosted the way glass does around where it has broken. I looked among the trees where gangs of us had played at hide-and-seek. Youâre hiding again, I said to him in my head, and everybody else has gone home. But Iâm still seeking.
I got back in the car and drove some more. Dave Lyonsâ dismissiveness had been counter-productive. It came too pat, it was too complete. Nobody could justify that much self-assurance. He froze me out too fast. That made me suspicious. If he had lost touch so long ago, how did he know where Anna came from? If he had become such a stranger to Scott, why did he invite him to a party?
I thought I would like to talk to him again with more in my mouth than a series of disconnected questions. To do that, I had to know more. Ellie Mabon might be more. I regretted invading her life. But it was still just late afternoon. Thereshould be no husband. I was apologising to her mentally as I stopped the car at her door.
I parked behind a blue Peugeot and stepped out. The house was big, an odd amalgam of wood and stone. It was an original concept. I hadnât seen another one like it, for which I was grateful. The complicated bell had only begun its symphony of chimes when the door opened. We stood looking at each other while the bell continued pointlessly.
I appreciated Scottâs taste. If you were going to lose your head, she was a good place to lose it. She was tall and red-haired with a beautiful mouth even her present expression couldnât mar. The eyes were green as an aquarium and drew you to them in the same way. She was dressed to go out, wearing a black fitted suit, the lapels of which met enticingly across her bare chest.
âHullo,â I was able to say.
âHow dare you!â she said.
âIâm sorry. But I ââ
She was glancing down the road.
âTurn right now and get back into your car.â
âWait.â
âDo it!â
She started to smile sweetly. She was nodding as if agreeing with something I was saying.
âDo it now. Get into your car. Drive in the direction in which itâs facing.â She pointed helpfully, still smiling. âWhat Iâm doing just now is showing the neighbours Iâm giving you directions. At the end of the street, you take first right. First left. Then you pull in to the side of the road. You wait till my car comes past. And you follow it. Itâs the blue Peugeot out there. Move.â I started to walk away.
âThatâs where it is,â she called after me. âIâm sure youâll find it. You canât miss it.â
She closed the door quite loudly.
I waited for ten minutes before I saw the Peugeot in the rearview mirror. She was a careful woman. I followed her out of the town. She drove for some time. Just when I thought we might be leaving the country, she took a winding road, turned into another and pulled on to the grass beside the gate of a field. There was room for me behind her.
Outside the cars, we stood looking at each other. As far as I was concerned, it wasnât a bad
âThanks for your time,â I said.
âDonât mention it,â he said. âPlease. Not to anyone. I must admit I could have spent it more fruitfully. Take care of yourself. Or maybe you should get somebody else to do it for you.â
He had chewed me up nicely. This was him spitting me out. As he walked back to his friends, leaving me standing, I noticed that his stomach had the protuberance of a Russian doll. I wondered how many smaller men were hiding inside the polished confidence of his exterior. I intended to find out.
12
I drove to 28 Sycamore Road. My route was hardly direct. I cruised the countryside for a while. I stopped beside a bridge above the Bringan, an area of woods and fields we had known as boys. I leaned on the parapet and watched the river running. It looked like melting glass below the bridge. Downstream it hit the rocks and the glass went frosted the way glass does around where it has broken. I looked among the trees where gangs of us had played at hide-and-seek. Youâre hiding again, I said to him in my head, and everybody else has gone home. But Iâm still seeking.
I got back in the car and drove some more. Dave Lyonsâ dismissiveness had been counter-productive. It came too pat, it was too complete. Nobody could justify that much self-assurance. He froze me out too fast. That made me suspicious. If he had lost touch so long ago, how did he know where Anna came from? If he had become such a stranger to Scott, why did he invite him to a party?
I thought I would like to talk to him again with more in my mouth than a series of disconnected questions. To do that, I had to know more. Ellie Mabon might be more. I regretted invading her life. But it was still just late afternoon. Thereshould be no husband. I was apologising to her mentally as I stopped the car at her door.
I parked behind a blue Peugeot and stepped out. The house was big, an odd amalgam of wood and stone. It was an original concept. I hadnât seen another one like it, for which I was grateful. The complicated bell had only begun its symphony of chimes when the door opened. We stood looking at each other while the bell continued pointlessly.
I appreciated Scottâs taste. If you were going to lose your head, she was a good place to lose it. She was tall and red-haired with a beautiful mouth even her present expression couldnât mar. The eyes were green as an aquarium and drew you to them in the same way. She was dressed to go out, wearing a black fitted suit, the lapels of which met enticingly across her bare chest.
âHullo,â I was able to say.
âHow dare you!â she said.
âIâm sorry. But I ââ
She was glancing down the road.
âTurn right now and get back into your car.â
âWait.â
âDo it!â
She started to smile sweetly. She was nodding as if agreeing with something I was saying.
âDo it now. Get into your car. Drive in the direction in which itâs facing.â She pointed helpfully, still smiling. âWhat Iâm doing just now is showing the neighbours Iâm giving you directions. At the end of the street, you take first right. First left. Then you pull in to the side of the road. You wait till my car comes past. And you follow it. Itâs the blue Peugeot out there. Move.â I started to walk away.
âThatâs where it is,â she called after me. âIâm sure youâll find it. You canât miss it.â
She closed the door quite loudly.
I waited for ten minutes before I saw the Peugeot in the rearview mirror. She was a careful woman. I followed her out of the town. She drove for some time. Just when I thought we might be leaving the country, she took a winding road, turned into another and pulled on to the grass beside the gate of a field. There was room for me behind her.
Outside the cars, we stood looking at each other. As far as I was concerned, it wasnât a bad
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