按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
'I'm an expert on ex…wives；' India said。 'Wronged wives； dumped mistresses； women curdled with spite； women angling for money。 Women wanting revenge； women breaking their hearts。 I know the scenery。 Your Jenny said she couldn't live in your purgatory； but when I suggested you were a selfish brute she defended you like a tigress。'
Oh God； I thought。 After nearly six years apart the same old dagger could pierce us both。
'Sid？'
'Mm。'
'Do you still love her？'
I found a calm voice。 'We can't go back； and we don't want to；' I said。 'I regret a lot； but it's now finally over。 She has a better husband； and she's happy。'
'I met her new man；' India said。 'He's sweet。'
'Yes。' I paused。 'What about your own ex？'
'I fell for his looks。 It turned out he wanted an admiration machine in an apron。 End of story。'
'Is his name Cathcart？'
'No；' she said。 'Patterson。'
Smiling to myself I said； 'Will you give me your phone number？'
She said； 'Yes；' and did so。
'Kensington Place restaurant。 Eight o'clock。'
'I'll be there。'
When I was alone； which was usual nowadays； since Louise Mclnnes and I had parted； I took off my false arm at bedtime and replaced it after a shower in the morning。 I couldn't wear it in showers； as water wrecked the works。 Taking it off after a long day was often a pest； as it fitted tightly and tended to cling to my skin。 Putting it on was a matter of talcum powder； getting the angle right and pushing hard。
The arm might be worth its weight in gold； as I'd told Trish Huxford； but even after three years； whatever lighthearted front I might now achieve in public； in private the management of amputation still took me a positive effort of the 'get on with it' ethos。 I didn't know why I continued to feel vulnerable and sensitive。 Too much pride； no doubt。
I'd charged up the two batteries in the charger overnight； so I started the new day； Saturday； with a fresh battery in the arm and a spare in my pocket。
It was by then five days since Gordon Quint had cracked my ulna； and the twinges had bee less acute and less frequent。 Partly it was because one naturally found the least painful way of performing any action； and partly because the ends of bone were beginning to knit。 Soft tissue grew on the site of the break and on the eighth day it would normally begin hardening； the whole healing process being plete within the next week。 Only splintered displaced ends caused serious trouble； which hadn't occurred in this case。
When I'd been a jockey the feel of a simple fracture had been an almost twice…yearly familiarity。 One tended in jump racing to fall on one's shoulder； quite often at thirty miles an hour； and in my time I'd cracked my collar bones six times each side： only once had it been distinctly bad。
Some jockeys had stronger bones than others； but I didn't know anyone who'd pleted a top career unscathed。 Anyway； by Saturday morning； Monday's crack was no real problem。
Into my overnight bag I packed the battery charger； washing things； pyjamas； spare shirt； business suit and shoes。 I wore both pieces of the tracksuit； white shirt； no tie and the dark trainers。 In my belt I carried money and a credit card； and in my pocket a bunch of six keys on a single ring； which bore also a miniature torch。 Three of the keys were variously for my car and the entry doors of my flat。 The other three； looking misleadingly simple； would between them open any ordinary lock； regardless of the wishes of the owners。
My old teacher had had me practise until I was quick at it。 He'd shown me also how to open the simple bination locks on suitcases； the method used by airport thieves。
I checked out of the hotel and found the way back to Frodsham； parking by the kerb within sight of the Topline Foods' wire…mesh gates。
As before； the gates were wide open and； as before； no one going in and out was challenged by the gatekeeper。 No one； in fact； seemed to have urgent business in either direction and there were far fewer cars in the central area than on the day before。 It wasn't until nearly eleven o'clock that the promised film crews arrived in force。
When getting on for twenty assorted vans and private cars had e to a ragged halt all over the place； disgorging film cameras （Intramind Imaging）； a television camera （local station） and dozens of people looking purposeful with heavy equipment and chest…hugged clipboards； I got out of my car and put on the ill…fitting brown overalls； plete with identity badge。 Into the boot I locked my bag and also the mobile phone； first taking the SIM card out of it and stowing it in my belt。 'Get into the habit of removing the SIM card；' my supplier had advised。 'Then if someone steals your phone； too bad； they won't be able to use it。'
'Great；' I'd said。
I started the car； drove unhesitatingly through the gates； steered a course round the assorted vans and stopped just beyond them； nearest to the unloading bays。 Saturday or not； a few other brown…overall hands were busy on the rollers and the shelf escalator； and I simply walked straight in past them； saying 'Morning' as if I belonged。
They didn't answer； didn't look up； took me for granted。
Inside； I walked up the stairs I'd e down with Willy Parrott and； when I reached the right level； ambled along the gallery until I came to his office。
The sliding glass door was closed and locked and there was no one inside。
The paddles were silent in the vats。 None of the day before's hum and activity remained； and almost none of the smells。 Instead； there were cameras being positioned below； with Owen Yorkshire himself directing the director； his authoritative voice telling the experts their job。
He was too busy to look up。 I went on along the gallery； ing to the fire…door up the flight of metal stairs。 The fire…doors were locked at night； Willy had said。 By day； they were open。 Thankful； I reached in the end the plush carpet of the offices。
There was a bunch of three media people in there； measuring angles and moving potted plants。 Office work； I gathered； was due for immortality on Monday。 Cursing internally at their presence； I walked on towards the lift； passing the open door of 'Customer Relations'。 No Marsha Rowse。
To the right of the lift there was a door announcing 'Office Manager； A。 Dove'； fastened with businesslike locks。
Looking back； I saw the measuring group taking their damned time。 I needed them out of there and they infuriatingly dawdled。
I didn't like to hover。 I returned to the lift and； to fill in time； opened a nearby door which proved to enclose fire…stairs； as I'd hoped。
Down a floor； and through the fire…door there； I found an expanse of open space； unfurnished and undecorated； the same in area as the office suite above。 Up two storeys； above the offices； there was similar quiet； undivided； clean…swept space。 Owen Yorkshire had already built for expansion； I gathered。
Cautiously； I went on upwards to the fifth floor； lair of the boss。
Trusting that he was still down among the vats； I opened the fire…door enough to put my head through。
More camera people moved around。 Veritable banks of potted plants blazed red