Spitting Feathers

With nothing else for it I followed him, feeling a bit of a fool. I found him in the kitchen, pouring water into a plastic bucket. I was about to say something else, some snidey remark about his attempts to be friendly being pretty short-lived, but I didn’t get the chance because Mrs A came in then, and made a big fuss of the flowers. They started talking about them, using the Latin name for the plant as they made favourable comparisons to last year’s crop, and I, who knew the English names of only about three garden flowers, felt distinctly out of it.

I saw Chris look at his watch again, and after turning off the tap and placing the flowers in the bucket he excused himself. ‘Gotta go, Adrienne, though I’ll see you before you leave, of course.’ Then he seemed to remember me. ‘Nice to meet you, Tao,’ he said, without much conviction. ‘Just give me a knock if you need any guidance on our mutual friend, and try and let me know in plenty if time if you’re going to be away from the house.’

He left then, and after a quick farewell to Sir Galahad, which involved him making the sound of a mournful trumpet that Mrs Audesley informed me was a burst of The Last Post, I left as well. Just in time to see a very striking, wealthy-looking woman in her early, possibly middle forties, hobbling down the steps in silly high heels towards the door of Chris’s basement flat.

I wandered down to the nearby shops and discovered a pricey little gift shop that I found hard to resist for two reasons. One, I wanted to get something nice as a thank-you to Sophie for everything, and two, I was feeling agitated after my brief encounter with Mrs Audesley’s gardener, and spending always calmed my nerves.

I mean, who did he think he was? Ordering me about like that, and worse—much worse—snubbing my invitation to go for a friendly drink. I tried comforting myself with the old ‘it’s his loss’ chestnut, but it didn’t ring all that true when I thought of the woman he’d turned me down for. Though what she saw in him was a mystery—unless she considered him her bit of rough, of course, I thought nastily. It is well known that some women get their kicks from dirtying their hands on the hunky hired help, and since he’d said he did gardening for other people, she might well have been one of his clients.

An unpleasant thought suddenly crossed my mind as I was examining a nice little crystal candlestick that seemed to absorb the colour of everything around it—an image of Mrs Audesley and Chris cosying up on her pale blue sofa. I ejected it with a shudder and told myself to behave. Just because the woman was on first-name terms with her gardener, just because she seemed very at ease with him about the place, that did not mean there was anything else going on between them. The woman was in her seventies, for goodness’ sake, and okay, so she might have a good neck, but a fifty-year age gap was just too revolting to contemplate.

The candlestick was one of a pair and as I tipped it over and saw the price ticket stuck to the base, it emptied my head of all other thoughts. I’d almost decided that they would be perfect for Sophie, but could I really afford sixty-five pounds? And besides, unless I left the price tag on she wouldn’t even appreciate the expense I’d gone to.

I was the only browser in the shop at that moment. Apart from me there was a smartly dressed brunette who was heavily involved in a book behind the counter. So I took the pair of candlesticks over to her and, after sucking in some air, asked if she could manage any discount.

From the look on her face it was clearly a question she hadn’t been asked before, but when her mouth finally closed she smiled at me warmly. She had strange pale grey eyes, and one of the smallest noses I’d ever seen. She reminded me of a fairytale wood creature, a nymph or a fairy, or something. Definitely on the supernatural side.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have the authority to do that,’ she said. ‘But I can show you some like them that don’t cost nearly so much.’ She got up and glided gracefully across the shop to a shelf in the corner that I’d overlooked. She was quite small, and very slender—the sort of person who makes me feel big and clumsy. She picked up a similar pair of candlesticks and held them up to the light. ‘You can hardly tell the difference,’ she said.

I looked at them closely and saw that she was right.

‘Apart from the price,’ she said with a grin. ‘These are just under twenty pounds.’

‘Do you giftwrap?’ I asked.

‘Beautifully,’ she said.

I rang Sophie when I got out of the shop half an hour later. During that time I’d become quite friendly with Alina, whom I discovered was just standing in for a couple of days while the shop’s owner was away at a gift trade event in North Wales. Alina herself was currently ‘between’ acting jobs—which was stretching the facts just a little, I’d thought, when I heard the details. Indeed, the last acting job she’d had was six months ago, when she’d played the part of a mugging victim in a Crimewatch reconstruction. But I liked her upbeat confidence, and her certainty that the right role was just around the corner. When she learned I was moving into the area, and where, she told me that was ‘completely amazing’, and promised to come round and see me. I’d left the shop feeling quite uplifted, encouraged to meet a female who wasn’t a bitch, and hopeful that I’d found a new friend.

By now it was getting on for six, and I wasn’t even sure if I’d catch Sophie before she left work, but I did. She was just on her way out of the building, as a matter of fact, and I asked if she’d meet me at a pub not far from her flat in about half an hour. I wanted to talk, tell her all about Taylor and my awkward new neighbour, and I wanted to give her the present. And I wanted to do it all beyond the prying eyes and ears of the two Cs.

But she sounded dubious, impatient almost. ‘I just wanted to get straight back to the flat and have a soak in the bath.’

‘Oh, go on,’ I wheedled, ‘just a quick one. It might be the last chance we get for ages.’

‘Okay,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But it really will have to be a quick one. I’m going out at eight.’

I didn’t get a chance to ask where she was going because she disconnected.

She was frowning and looking at her watch when I got to the pub forty minutes later. I was very apologetic, of course, but she refused another drink when I offered her one.

‘I’m sorry, Tao, but I can only stay another ten minutes. As it is I’m going to miss out on my bath.’

I passed over the gift, which had indeed been beautifully giftwrapped in lime-green paper and purple ribbon by Alina, and hoped it would soften her up while I went to the bar. It was fairly quiet, thankfully, and the barman, a middle-aged man with a sad expression and sandy-coloured ponytail, nodded in silent, morose recognition when I ordered a glass of red wine.

Sophie seemed pleased enough when I got back, but there was still a look of elsewhereness in her eyes. She held up one of the candlesticks and smiled. ‘They’re fabulous, Tao, but you shouldn’t have. I know how tight money is at the moment, and these must have cost a bomb.’

I didn’t deny it, but I pooh-poohed her objections. ‘I just wanted you to know how grateful I am for everything.’

‘I know you are,’ she said.

‘I met Taylor Wiseman today,’ I told her quickly. ‘You know—the TV chef. And guess what?’

But I’d lost her again. She was putting the candlesticks back in their gift box and transferring them to her bag. She looked up at me blankly.

‘He’s asked me to go to his place tomorrow to talk about a possible job.’

‘That’s nice,’ she said.

‘It’s more than nice! It’s brilliant. It could be the start of something really big.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed, then, shall I?’

I was beginning to get annoyed with her. She should have been gushing with excitement by now, not offering to keep her damn fingers crossed.

‘What about the house?’ she asked, sounding a bit more enthusiastic now. ‘Everything still okay there?’

‘Fine. I’ll be moving in on Saturday, at twelve-ish, I told Mrs Audesley. Is that still okay for you?’

‘Great,’ she said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing the place.’ She was slipping her bag onto her shoulder and there was a look of apology forming on her face. ‘I’m sorry, Tao, but I really will have to leave now.’

‘But where are you going?’ I said. What could be more important than my exciting news? I was actually thinking, but managed not to say.

‘I’ve got a hot date,’ she said, getting up.

‘Not with Mrs Audesley’s prodigal nephew, by any chance?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ she answered defensively. ‘And I wish you wouldn’t make it sound as if there’s something dubious about his character. The only thing you know for certain about him is that he’s done you an enormous favour.’

She was right, and I couldn’t deny it. For all I knew, Mrs Audesley’s reasons for disliking her nephew were quite unreasonable. And, come to think of it, Chris had as good as defended him when he’d said that Jerome wasn’t responsible for all of Sir Galahad’s bad language. ‘Sorry,’ I said, giving in to the inevitable of being left on my own to drink my wine. ‘Have a great time.’

She gave me a grateful nod and then looked a bit coy. ‘You can have my bed tonight, if you like. I might be late so I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

Which was Sophie-speak for, In all probability I won’t be coming home tonight.

Because I didn’t want to get in the way while Sophie was preparing for her big date, I hung around the pub for a while. I had another glass of red wine, and a packet of pork scratchings, and when they were gone I dawdled home through the narrow, busy streets. I picked up a couple of cream cheese and smoked salmon bagels from the twenty-four-hour bagel shop, and found the flat empty when I got in. For once I was a bit disappointed. It would have been fun to tell the two Cs about Taylor, to rub their noses once more in my move to Hampstead. They went out a lot during the week, though I had no idea where they went or how they managed to fund their outings. As far as I knew neither one of them had a current boyfriend, so they must have been spending their own money.

I could have phoned my parents and told them my news, but I knew they wouldn’t be all that impressed. Never having owned a TV, they wouldn’t have heard of Taylor Wiseman, and besides, I wanted to be a little more sure of my ground first. I hadn’t even told them about my move yet, so if anything definite came from my meeting with Taylor tomorrow I could tell them the whole lot together.

I spent part of the evening watching TV—a ghoulish hospital drama that involved close-ups of open wounds made wonderfully real by the make-up department. Then, although I still had another day to go, I made a feeble attempt at some packing before planning to use the hot water that I had deprived Sophie of. I was also planning to ‘borrow’ some of Fiona’s expensive bubble bath, then rub out the marker line the suspicious cow had made on the bottle and create a new one. In fact I was just checking her make-up drawer for the right colour eyeliner when the front doorbell rang.

Luckily I hadn’t got as far as stripping off yet, because when I answered the intercom I got a nasty shock. It was Peter Parker, the landlord, asking if he could come in.

‘What for?’ I asked cautiously.

‘I had a message from one of those posh birds. She said there was a problem with the light fitting in her room.’

No one had told me that. And what was he doing, coming around here at this time of night? ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘but there’s only me here at the moment. Can’t you come back tomorrow?’