diesel.
As he drove into the heart of the city he heard music everywhere—from cars, buildings, street corners, bars. Two boys were washing car windscreens at the traffic lights. One was sitting on an upturned metal bucket drumming on the bucket in front of him with the Squeezee. Tony was nervous and exhilarated; he’d never been out of England. The only holidays he took were walking holidays in Scotland.
—
Tony pulled into the car park of the bank. They were expecting him. They took him into a private room, checked his passport and the documents from Leo and gave him the money in a case. He signed for it. He asked them if they could direct him to a particular address. One of the younger men on the team seemed watchful and shifty. He wrote down the address. Said he’d look it up. Tony didn’t like him.
When Tony got back to the car, Perdita was whimpering in small, exhausted gulps. He had left her on the backseat because he didn’t know what else to do. He had bundled his coat in the footwell in case she rolled over.
The baby had cried a lot on the plane. The British Airways staff had changed her for him and fed her but she was complaining deeper than food and sleep and wetness. Tony wondered if it was all right to take a baby from its mother so soon.
At least she would soon be with her father.
Tony sat in the back of the car and called the number Leo had given him for Xeno. It was disconnected. Tony called Leo. There was no answer.
Perdita was crying full-throttle now so Tony started to sing to her in Spanish. She seemed to like that. Tony added the velvet bag Leo had given him to the money in the case. And there was a piece of sheet music to go in too. He put it all together, sang a bit more until the baby fell asleep, then he drove to the address in his wallet.
It wasn’t far out of town. A pretty suburb. The house was old colonial-style with an ironwork balcony over the first storey. There was an SUV on the drive. Tony got out. The rain had stopped. He could hear thunder somewhere but a long way off.
He rang the doorbell. Xeno must be expecting him by now.
For a long time no one answered. Tony walked round the back with Perdita, admiring the subtropical planting. Then a woman appeared at the back door. Spanish by the look of her. She didn’t speak English well so Tony spoke to her in Spanish. No, Mr. Xeno not here. Los Angeles. No back till ten days.
Tony got on the phone again to Leo. Still no answer. He went back to the car, sitting in the front with the door open. He had only enough milk for one more feed. Hospital. He should take the baby to a hospital, just to get her fed and changed and checked out. They would do that. Then he’d go to the hotel and wait till he could speak to Leo.
It was when he was leaving Xeno’s house that he noticed the car across the street.
—
At the hotel they were helpful. Yes, the room was pre-paid. Yes, the hospital was just a couple of miles away.
Tony was suddenly exhausted. He went upstairs with Perdita. He took off her Babygro, vest, nappy. She was red and chafed between the legs. He thought he would bath her. If she were a plant he would be watering her. Bathing was a kind of watering, wasn’t it?
He ran the bath, carefully checking the temperature. He swung her in gently, sleeves rolled up, kneeling on the floor. He held her in both hands in the water, swooshing her back and forth. His mother must have done this to him, mustn’t she? Before the water dried up and there was no more love.
The baby seemed to like being bathed. Maybe I could have been a father, he thought. But that would have needed a mother…
Once she was dried and changed and fed, Tony lay down with her on the bed. They both fell deeply asleep.
—
It was the door to his room opening that woke him. The room was dark. He saw the light from the corridor. A man’s shape. Someone from the hotel? The person was coming in but they didn’t put on the light. “Hello?” he called.
As he drove into the heart of the city he heard music everywhere—from cars, buildings, street corners, bars. Two boys were washing car windscreens at the traffic lights. One was sitting on an upturned metal bucket drumming on the bucket in front of him with the Squeezee. Tony was nervous and exhilarated; he’d never been out of England. The only holidays he took were walking holidays in Scotland.
—
Tony pulled into the car park of the bank. They were expecting him. They took him into a private room, checked his passport and the documents from Leo and gave him the money in a case. He signed for it. He asked them if they could direct him to a particular address. One of the younger men on the team seemed watchful and shifty. He wrote down the address. Said he’d look it up. Tony didn’t like him.
When Tony got back to the car, Perdita was whimpering in small, exhausted gulps. He had left her on the backseat because he didn’t know what else to do. He had bundled his coat in the footwell in case she rolled over.
The baby had cried a lot on the plane. The British Airways staff had changed her for him and fed her but she was complaining deeper than food and sleep and wetness. Tony wondered if it was all right to take a baby from its mother so soon.
At least she would soon be with her father.
Tony sat in the back of the car and called the number Leo had given him for Xeno. It was disconnected. Tony called Leo. There was no answer.
Perdita was crying full-throttle now so Tony started to sing to her in Spanish. She seemed to like that. Tony added the velvet bag Leo had given him to the money in the case. And there was a piece of sheet music to go in too. He put it all together, sang a bit more until the baby fell asleep, then he drove to the address in his wallet.
It wasn’t far out of town. A pretty suburb. The house was old colonial-style with an ironwork balcony over the first storey. There was an SUV on the drive. Tony got out. The rain had stopped. He could hear thunder somewhere but a long way off.
He rang the doorbell. Xeno must be expecting him by now.
For a long time no one answered. Tony walked round the back with Perdita, admiring the subtropical planting. Then a woman appeared at the back door. Spanish by the look of her. She didn’t speak English well so Tony spoke to her in Spanish. No, Mr. Xeno not here. Los Angeles. No back till ten days.
Tony got on the phone again to Leo. Still no answer. He went back to the car, sitting in the front with the door open. He had only enough milk for one more feed. Hospital. He should take the baby to a hospital, just to get her fed and changed and checked out. They would do that. Then he’d go to the hotel and wait till he could speak to Leo.
It was when he was leaving Xeno’s house that he noticed the car across the street.
—
At the hotel they were helpful. Yes, the room was pre-paid. Yes, the hospital was just a couple of miles away.
Tony was suddenly exhausted. He went upstairs with Perdita. He took off her Babygro, vest, nappy. She was red and chafed between the legs. He thought he would bath her. If she were a plant he would be watering her. Bathing was a kind of watering, wasn’t it?
He ran the bath, carefully checking the temperature. He swung her in gently, sleeves rolled up, kneeling on the floor. He held her in both hands in the water, swooshing her back and forth. His mother must have done this to him, mustn’t she? Before the water dried up and there was no more love.
The baby seemed to like being bathed. Maybe I could have been a father, he thought. But that would have needed a mother…
Once she was dried and changed and fed, Tony lay down with her on the bed. They both fell deeply asleep.
—
It was the door to his room opening that woke him. The room was dark. He saw the light from the corridor. A man’s shape. Someone from the hotel? The person was coming in but they didn’t put on the light. “Hello?” he called.
Similar Books
