Nothing Ventured(34)
“I didn’t realize you owned the flat.”
“I don’t. It belongs to my parents. Dad works for HSBC and he’s been posted to Hong Kong for the next three years. The moment they return, Jez will have to go and I’ll be moving back into his room.”
Or mine, William wanted to say.
“You’d better call your mother while I do the washing up. The phone’s in the study.”
“Once a head girl, always a head girl,” said William as he left her and made his way to the study. He picked up the phone and dialed the first number he’d ever known. He was hoping his father would pick up the phone, but a female voice came on the line.
“Nettleford 4163.”
“Hi, Grace, it’s William. I won’t be able to make lunch today. Something’s come up. Would you apologize to Mum and Dad for me?”
“Something or someone?”
“It’s a work thing.”
“You’re such a lousy liar, William. But I won’t say anything, even though I was hoping you’d be around today.”
“Why, is there a problem?”
“Dad will be meeting Clare for the first time, so I was relying on you for moral support.”
“I’ve never really cared much for blood sports.”
“Thanks a lot. Will you be around next week? I can’t wait to meet the girl who would go on a second date with you.”
“And I can’t wait to meet the girl who would go on a second date with you.”
“Touché. But I still wish you were here.”
“You’ll be fine, Grace. Just remember, when Dad snorts, only hot air comes out, no flames.”
“That’s easy for you to say from a safe distance.”
“And in any case, you’ll have Mum on your side.”
“Two against one will make it a close-run thing. Three might have tipped the balance in my favor.”
“I’ll be there in spirit,” said William, before he wished her luck and put the phone down. He was just about to leave the room when he spotted a row of postcards of the Hong Kong skyline displayed on the mantelpiece. The policeman in him wanted to look on the other side, but he resisted the temptation. He returned to the kitchen to find Beth doing the washing up.
“Jez usually does the drying.”
“Subtle,” said William, picking up a tea towel. “When we’re finished, I’ll go home, put on a tracksuit, and join you in the park.”
“No need. You’ll find everything you want in Jez’s room.”
“I’ve always wondered what a ménage à trois would be like.”
A run in the park, followed by My Beautiful Laundrette, and then a Pizza Margherita—half each—before returning to Beth’s flat and disappearing under the blankets, to end an idyllic weekend.
* * *
When William woke the following morning, he had to untangle himself before he could check his watch.
“Help!” he said as he leaped out of bed and charged into the bathroom. This was one meeting he couldn’t afford to be late for. It would start at nine, with or without him.
Once he returned to the bedroom, he threw on his clothes and kissed a half-awake Beth.
“Hoping to escape before I woke, were you?”
“I have to go back to my place and get changed. I can’t afford to be late again.”
Beth sat up and stretched her arms. “Now you’ve had your way with me, Detective Constable Warwick, will I ever see you again?” She sighed and draped a languishing arm across her forehead.
“I could come back straight after work if that’s OK. In which case, I’d be with you around seven.”
“Suits me, then we can all have supper together. Jez can do the cooking, and you can do the washing up.”
William sat on the bed and held her in his arms. “And what will you do?”
“Read Proust.”
“By the way,” said William, as he rose to leave, “my sister can’t wait to meet you.”
“Why?”
“It’s quite complicated, but I’ll reveal all this evening.”
“Make sure you find my painting, DC Warwick!” were the last words William heard before he closed the bedroom door.
As he stepped out into the street William spotted a number 22 bus approaching the stop, and just managed to leap on board as it pulled away.
“Bugger,” he said.
“I beg your pardon, young man,” said the conductor. “There’s no need for that sort of language on my bus.”
“Sorry. I forgot to tell my girlfriend that I’m going to Barnstaple today.”
“Then you’re definitely on the wrong bus.”
* * *
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spare you much time during the past month,” said Hawksby as he took his seat at the top of the table. “No doubt you’ve all read about the drugs haul in Southampton last week. Two hundred pounds of cocaine and six arrests.”
They all banged on the table with the palms of their hands.
“It’s hardly worth that,” said Hawksby. “The six we arrested were just minnows. The big fish are still sunning themselves on a beach in the south of France, and the biggest shark of all never leaves his estate in Colombia, where even the police are on his payroll. All we can do is try to intercept the next shipment and net another shoal of minnows, while we still have no idea how much is getting through. Be thankful none of you are attached to the drug squad.”