company car. And where was this laboratory you said you visited? Inside one of the university hospitals? Off Gower Street? Much use that is, Toby. There are dozens of hospitals off Gower Street and you were born in one of them.’
The embittered lifeguard was salvaging something from the rotting boat. Obviously the murder weapon. I hastily revised the plot in my head. The enlightened vagrant must be innocent.
‘Is he English? Toby, are you listening?’
‘He doesn’t have an accent exactly. He speaks perfect English. But he sounds foreign.’
I wished that she would go away.
‘Roehm’s not an English name.’
‘He mentioned Switzerland,’ I suggested unhelpfully. Luce looked gloomily into the fire. She tried another cigarette.
‘I’ve blown it with your mother. She won’t even speak to me.’
‘She’ll get over it.’
‘No, she won’t.’
We sat silent. I stood up and poked the logs. Immediately the flames ebbed as if someone had hushed them to be quiet.
‘Well, you say he’s rich. Even if he is old enough to be her father. Has he bought any more of her paintings? And I suppose he might be Swiss. What does he work on?’
‘Genetics. It’s either plants or animals. He had both in his lab.’
‘Oh, great. He probably modifies crops so that when we all think we’re eating beetroots we’re actually eating bananas.’
‘No. It’s nothing like that. It’s about breeding strains that resist drought, heat and ice.’
‘It’s the same thing. It’s interfering with Nature.’
‘But so are insecticides and vaccinations. Luce, be rational.’
She glared at me. Neither of us spoke. The vagrant was brought down by the dogs. I decided that if I were an actor required to perform scenes with slavering Dobermanns I’d demand more money. Then Luce changed tack and spoke with peculiar urgency.
‘Look, Toby, Liberty and I are off to New York tomorrow. Your mother won’t even say goodbye. She doesn’t return my calls. She’d better not find me here. So listen. Here’s the deal. This is the hotel where we’re staying. That’s the number. You put 001 before it. You can leave messages at reception if we’re not there. Then here’s the number of my friends in Brooklyn Heights. That’s for emergencies. If anything goes wrong or if you notice anything odd you must call me at once.’
The entire cast of the thriller began revealing things to one another. Faces contorted in rage, relief, surprise. I stared at the silent denouement, frustrated and mystified.
‘What could go wrong?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this man, Toby. We know nothing about him. She’s not saying anything. She didn’t introduce me. Why didn’t she?’
‘Well, look what happened when she did tell you about him. You went nuclear in seconds.’
For the first time Luce stops, thinks.
‘You’re right. I did.’
‘Maybe you should ask yourself why.’
She stares at me. Hard. There is a long pause. The credits are coming up.
‘OK. I’ll think about that in America. In the meantime, my dear, you hang on to those numbers and for God’s sake ring if you suspect anything. I’m counting on you.’
I looked regretfully at the silent screen and the marchpast of unknown names.
‘Luce. You’ll just have to tell me straight out what it is that you’re afraid of.’
‘Don’t you see? Can’t you smell it?’ Luce’s voice rose. ‘I’m afraid he’ll kill her.’
* * *
We had no bonfire for Guy Fawkes that year. The leaves gathered, blown into huge piles on the paths and across the damp lawns. I decided to burn them. It was a windy afternoon and I moved steadily across the garden, raking them into recalcitrant piles, which blew over, away, out of the wheelbarrow, damp handfuls of the dead year. I collected them together with sober concentration. My hands and face were very cold, but it was satisfying work. The dark lawn reappeared, like a fresh green plain, a gambler’s table
The embittered lifeguard was salvaging something from the rotting boat. Obviously the murder weapon. I hastily revised the plot in my head. The enlightened vagrant must be innocent.
‘Is he English? Toby, are you listening?’
‘He doesn’t have an accent exactly. He speaks perfect English. But he sounds foreign.’
I wished that she would go away.
‘Roehm’s not an English name.’
‘He mentioned Switzerland,’ I suggested unhelpfully. Luce looked gloomily into the fire. She tried another cigarette.
‘I’ve blown it with your mother. She won’t even speak to me.’
‘She’ll get over it.’
‘No, she won’t.’
We sat silent. I stood up and poked the logs. Immediately the flames ebbed as if someone had hushed them to be quiet.
‘Well, you say he’s rich. Even if he is old enough to be her father. Has he bought any more of her paintings? And I suppose he might be Swiss. What does he work on?’
‘Genetics. It’s either plants or animals. He had both in his lab.’
‘Oh, great. He probably modifies crops so that when we all think we’re eating beetroots we’re actually eating bananas.’
‘No. It’s nothing like that. It’s about breeding strains that resist drought, heat and ice.’
‘It’s the same thing. It’s interfering with Nature.’
‘But so are insecticides and vaccinations. Luce, be rational.’
She glared at me. Neither of us spoke. The vagrant was brought down by the dogs. I decided that if I were an actor required to perform scenes with slavering Dobermanns I’d demand more money. Then Luce changed tack and spoke with peculiar urgency.
‘Look, Toby, Liberty and I are off to New York tomorrow. Your mother won’t even say goodbye. She doesn’t return my calls. She’d better not find me here. So listen. Here’s the deal. This is the hotel where we’re staying. That’s the number. You put 001 before it. You can leave messages at reception if we’re not there. Then here’s the number of my friends in Brooklyn Heights. That’s for emergencies. If anything goes wrong or if you notice anything odd you must call me at once.’
The entire cast of the thriller began revealing things to one another. Faces contorted in rage, relief, surprise. I stared at the silent denouement, frustrated and mystified.
‘What could go wrong?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this man, Toby. We know nothing about him. She’s not saying anything. She didn’t introduce me. Why didn’t she?’
‘Well, look what happened when she did tell you about him. You went nuclear in seconds.’
For the first time Luce stops, thinks.
‘You’re right. I did.’
‘Maybe you should ask yourself why.’
She stares at me. Hard. There is a long pause. The credits are coming up.
‘OK. I’ll think about that in America. In the meantime, my dear, you hang on to those numbers and for God’s sake ring if you suspect anything. I’m counting on you.’
I looked regretfully at the silent screen and the marchpast of unknown names.
‘Luce. You’ll just have to tell me straight out what it is that you’re afraid of.’
‘Don’t you see? Can’t you smell it?’ Luce’s voice rose. ‘I’m afraid he’ll kill her.’
* * *
We had no bonfire for Guy Fawkes that year. The leaves gathered, blown into huge piles on the paths and across the damp lawns. I decided to burn them. It was a windy afternoon and I moved steadily across the garden, raking them into recalcitrant piles, which blew over, away, out of the wheelbarrow, damp handfuls of the dead year. I collected them together with sober concentration. My hands and face were very cold, but it was satisfying work. The dark lawn reappeared, like a fresh green plain, a gambler’s table
Similar Books
