The Tropical Issue by Dorothy Dunnett Page A

Old English Patchwork so that I dropped my straw hat and every face in the lounge turned in my direction, including Roger’s.
    I didn’t listen to what Ferdy was saying. I was shrieking into his ear.
    ‘Do something! That’s my nutter! The van Diemen guy! Throw me at him or something! Kim-Jim’s coming, and he mustn’t see him!’
    Ferdy grinned into my face. My toes dangled just short of his kneecaps.
    ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Natalie rang him and told him to get out. And don’t worry. Kim-Jim got smuggled off first. He’s waiting in the VIP lounge. Roger won’t see him.’
    I could have killed Ferdy. For Mrs Sheridan’s sake, he had held out on me. He knew who my attacker was. He had lied. He was a bastard.
    He had maybe saved Kim-Jim’s life.
    I kissed him. I looked over his shoulder. The aircraft steps, I could see, were now empty.
    Then Ferdy swung me right up, and I looked for Roger van Diemen.
    He wasn’t there. A sort of swirl showed where he had been standing. I said, ‘The bastard has gone.’
    ‘Shall I throw you anyway?’ Ferdy asked hopefully.
    He did, on to the counter, and was starting to raffle my hat when I got it off him and shoved until he agreed to take me to where Kim-Jim was waiting.
    Overhead, the tannoy was apologising for the late incoming plane and promising passengers flying to Lisbon that boarding would shortly begin.
    I looked about all the way to the special room, but there was no sign of my vanished banana case. I hoped he was solidly in the Departure area, being unzipped by airport security. I wondered what had made him lose his cool all of a sudden, since the tannoy hadn’t then called. Perhaps Nature had. Or perhaps . . .
    I said to Ferdy, ‘Wait a minute. This banana guy knows you?’
    ‘Everyone knows me,’ said Ferdy. He saw my foot go back and said quickly, ‘But O.K., my artist in non-toxic animal greases. He’s seen me with Natalie. A big scene with me on top of a big scene with you was probably more than he could stomach. Could you stomach it, Rita? A big scene . . .’
    He talks like that all the time. I paid no attention, because he was certainly right. Roger the Lodger had spotted Ferdy and scarpered.
    We went down some stairs. A kid came by in a sweatshirt with writing all over it that I didn’t need to read, because I’d seen it before. It read:
     
    Join the army.
    See exciting foreign lands.
    Meet exciting foreign people
    And kill them.
     
    The voice over the tannoy made an announcement in Portuguese and then in English. ‘The TAP flight for Lisbon is now boarding. Will passenger Mr van Diemen please come to the gate?’
    We were outside the VIP lounge. I stopped.
    Ferdy said, ‘What?’
    I said, ‘Listen!’
    The parties who had come off Kim-Jim’s plane were plodding out from the Customs Hall into the daylight, pushing or carting their luggage, and getting into taxis or cars.
    A big Daimler with a guy wearing a peaked cap beside it hogged the entrance. Behind it was Natalie’s estate car with Aurelio in it, waiting for Kim-Jim.
    The tannoy, in Portuguese and English, asked for Mr van Diemen again.
    Ferdy said, ‘O.K. He got scared I’d come to spoil him. He’ll wait till the last moment and make a run for it. He promised Natalie.’
    I fumed, and he looked hurt. He said, ‘If I hadn’t shoved Kim-Jim in here, they’d’ve crashed into each other. Have a heart, woman.’
    Overhead, Mr van Diemen was given a last chance, and lost it.
    Ferdy, whitening a little, opened the door of the VIP lounge quickly and got us both in, shutting the door smartly after us.
    ‘He’ll get the next plane,’ he said. ‘Once he sees us all leave . . .’
    He broke off. Men are idiots.
    ‘When he sees us all leave,’ I said, ‘he’ll know Kim-Jim is here. You got him sneaked into this lounge. Now you’ve bloody well got to get him sneaked out. Under Mr van Damned’s powdered nostrils.’
    It was then that Kim-Jim’s voice said, ‘Rita?’ behind me, and