ready.”
“And what if she does follow me?”
“If she follows you and sits down you don’t say a word, you just look at her with those eyes, straight into her face, into her eyes. Don’t say a word. Make her start the conversation. She will say something like, “What do you want to talk about?” You will sigh and say, “It’s a bit embarrassing…a bit difficult to talk about.” At that moment you will look at her again. If her face shows any sign of concern or if she says something like “Tell me about it, Michael” then you are three-quarters of the way there.”
The boy was intrigued. “And then what do I say?”
“You tell her that you’re a virgin.”
“What!?”
Joey smiled. “Exactly that. She will laugh and ask you how old you are. You will lie a little. You look eighteen or nineteen. You tell her that you’ll be nineteen next month, on the twenty-fifth.”
“And then what?”
“You say that you know tonight is her last night. And then, Michael, you don’t say one more word, not a single word.”
“What if she asks me a question?”
Joey’s voice was emphatic.
“You say nothing. Not a word. You just look at her. Straight into her eyes. Either she will get up and walk away or take you down to the flat in Marsalforn.”
She walked off the dance floor, came straight to the bar and Joey edged away from Michael. She moved into the gap between them. Joey turned his back to her.
She called out to the bartender, “Vince, give me the usual, please.”
Vince pointed to the full glass in front of her and then at Michael. She turned her head, looking slightly puzzled. From behind him, Joey heard Michael say, “Saffron, can I talk to you a moment?”
Joey waited for a while then turned. Michael was walking behind the dance floor to the table under the trees and the woman was following him.
Five minutes later, Joey watched them walk up the long sweep of stairs to the entrance. He turned his attention back to the dance floor, to the Swedish girl. After all, it was going to be his last week of freedom.
“Is it really true?”
“Yes, it is.”
They were on the balcony of a flat in Marsalforn, looking across the bay at the reflected lights. It was after midnight. Michael made a decision.
“It is true,” he said, “but I lied to you about something else.”
“About what?”
“I’m not nineteen next month. I’m seventeen.”
She laughed and poured the last few drops of the duty-free Black Label into the two glasses.
“The first time for me was awful,” she said. “It was in the back of a car, a small one. It was messy. I was drunk.”
They were lying on the bed and she was looking down at him.
She stroked the black hair from his forehead and smiled. “For you, Michael, it will not be awful…it will be beautiful.”
Chapter 14
They met for dinner at a restaurant four blocks from Capitol Hill. They sat at a secluded table at the back of the room. The Senator ordered a peppered steak, with a Caesar salad on the side. Creasy ordered coq au vin, with new potatoes and cauliflower. After the waitress had left, the sommelier came with the wine list, a very fat one.
“Do you like wine?” the Senator asked.
“Yes.”
The Senator passed him the wine list.
“Order anything, as long as it costs less than a hundred and ten thousand bucks.”
“You mean that?”
“Sure.”
Creasy studied the wine list for several minutes. The sommelier had the appearance that befitted his business: tall, sleek, and with a thin pencil moustache. He looked over Creasy’s shoulder at the pointing finger.
Creasy closed the wine list and handed it to him.
“Let’s have the Rothschild “49.”
The sommelier’s pleasure showed on his face.
“Would you like me to decant it for you, sir?”
“Please do.”
Creasy looked across the table and said, “Senator, that has made a dent in the hundred and ten thousand bucks.”
Grainger grinned.
“I hope so. I don’t know a lot about wine
“And what if she does follow me?”
“If she follows you and sits down you don’t say a word, you just look at her with those eyes, straight into her face, into her eyes. Don’t say a word. Make her start the conversation. She will say something like, “What do you want to talk about?” You will sigh and say, “It’s a bit embarrassing…a bit difficult to talk about.” At that moment you will look at her again. If her face shows any sign of concern or if she says something like “Tell me about it, Michael” then you are three-quarters of the way there.”
The boy was intrigued. “And then what do I say?”
“You tell her that you’re a virgin.”
“What!?”
Joey smiled. “Exactly that. She will laugh and ask you how old you are. You will lie a little. You look eighteen or nineteen. You tell her that you’ll be nineteen next month, on the twenty-fifth.”
“And then what?”
“You say that you know tonight is her last night. And then, Michael, you don’t say one more word, not a single word.”
“What if she asks me a question?”
Joey’s voice was emphatic.
“You say nothing. Not a word. You just look at her. Straight into her eyes. Either she will get up and walk away or take you down to the flat in Marsalforn.”
She walked off the dance floor, came straight to the bar and Joey edged away from Michael. She moved into the gap between them. Joey turned his back to her.
She called out to the bartender, “Vince, give me the usual, please.”
Vince pointed to the full glass in front of her and then at Michael. She turned her head, looking slightly puzzled. From behind him, Joey heard Michael say, “Saffron, can I talk to you a moment?”
Joey waited for a while then turned. Michael was walking behind the dance floor to the table under the trees and the woman was following him.
Five minutes later, Joey watched them walk up the long sweep of stairs to the entrance. He turned his attention back to the dance floor, to the Swedish girl. After all, it was going to be his last week of freedom.
“Is it really true?”
“Yes, it is.”
They were on the balcony of a flat in Marsalforn, looking across the bay at the reflected lights. It was after midnight. Michael made a decision.
“It is true,” he said, “but I lied to you about something else.”
“About what?”
“I’m not nineteen next month. I’m seventeen.”
She laughed and poured the last few drops of the duty-free Black Label into the two glasses.
“The first time for me was awful,” she said. “It was in the back of a car, a small one. It was messy. I was drunk.”
They were lying on the bed and she was looking down at him.
She stroked the black hair from his forehead and smiled. “For you, Michael, it will not be awful…it will be beautiful.”
Chapter 14
They met for dinner at a restaurant four blocks from Capitol Hill. They sat at a secluded table at the back of the room. The Senator ordered a peppered steak, with a Caesar salad on the side. Creasy ordered coq au vin, with new potatoes and cauliflower. After the waitress had left, the sommelier came with the wine list, a very fat one.
“Do you like wine?” the Senator asked.
“Yes.”
The Senator passed him the wine list.
“Order anything, as long as it costs less than a hundred and ten thousand bucks.”
“You mean that?”
“Sure.”
Creasy studied the wine list for several minutes. The sommelier had the appearance that befitted his business: tall, sleek, and with a thin pencil moustache. He looked over Creasy’s shoulder at the pointing finger.
Creasy closed the wine list and handed it to him.
“Let’s have the Rothschild “49.”
The sommelier’s pleasure showed on his face.
“Would you like me to decant it for you, sir?”
“Please do.”
Creasy looked across the table and said, “Senator, that has made a dent in the hundred and ten thousand bucks.”
Grainger grinned.
“I hope so. I don’t know a lot about wine
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