- •Crooner
- •I told him I didn’t want to impose, but there was now something gently insistent about Mr. Gardner. “No, no, sit down. Your mother liked my records, you were saying.”
- •I thought he wasn’t going to answer. In the dim light, his figure was just this hunched-up shape at the front of the boat. But as Vittorio was tying the rope, he said quietly:
- •Vittorio had stepped up onto the quay, but Mr. Gardner and I kept sitting in the darkness. I was waiting for him to say more, and sure enough, after a moment, he went on:
- •Come rain or come shine
- •I couldn’t remember the last time Charlie had asked my help for anything, but I managed a casual nod and waited. He played with his menu for a few seconds, then put it down.
- •I have to admit I was rather moved by this. All the same, I could see there was something not quite right here, something he wasn’t telling me.
- •I went up to him and said: “Charlie, I don’t think it’s going to work.”
- •I decided it might be best not to respond this time, and for a few moments we waited quietly for the kettle to boil. She prepared a cup for me, though not for herself, and placed it in front of me.
- •I should have thought of this before. How much time do you have left?”
- •I reached down to the fallen standard lamp, but Emily restrained me.
- •I wasn’t sure if Emily’s puzzled look was due to what I was saying, or still left over from gazing at the saucepan. She sat down next to me and thought for a moment.
- •I felt a sharp tug on my shoulder.
- •Malvern hills
- •I waited for him to sense what he’d walked into, but if he noticed, he showed no sign of taking it into account. He smiled at his wife and said, presumably for our benefit in English:
- •I leant over the strings and practised another little phrase to myself, and for a few seconds nobody spoke. Then I asked: “So what sort of music do you guys play?”
- •I stared at Maggie, for a moment quite speechless. Then I said: “You’re talking such rubbish. Why are you talking such rubbish?”
- •Nocturne
- •In answer to her question, I told her the toughest part for me was not being able to play my sax.
- •I had to reassure her some more that I’d had a good time and that I’d come back. Then as I was going out the door, she said:
- •I did calm down then for a while, and I gave a brief account of how Lindy had asked me over, and the way things had gone.
- •I looked at the board, trying to remember where we were. After a while, I asked gently: “Maybe that particular song, it has special associations for you?”
- •I didn’t know what to say, and before I could think of anything she was talking again.
- •I sat down on my usual sofa and watched her fussing with the hi-fi. The lighting in the room was soft, and the air felt pleasantly cool. Then “The Nearness of You” came on at high volume.
- •I was puzzled, but got to my feet. As I went to her, she pulled off the handkerchief and held towards me a shiny brass ornament.
- •I wandered further into the room and threw the torch beam around some more. “Maybe this is where it’s going to happen. Where they’re going to give Jake his award.”
- •It occurred to me I was losing my grip. I said quickly: “Okay, I’m out of line. I’m sorry. Now let’s go find this office.”
- •I felt the soft material of Lindy’s night-gown brush against my back. Then she’d taken my arm and we were standing side by side.
- •I could sense the security guard shift behind us.
- •I tugged at Lindy, but she seemed now to be seized by the oft-cited mania of criminals to flirt with being caught.
- •In the centre of the room was a bulky shape with a sheet draped completely over it. Lindy went to it like it was an old friend and flopped down tiredly.
- •I went up to the first dome and carefully raised it. Sure enough, there was a fat roast turkey sitting there. I searched out its cavity and inserted a finger.
- •I stopped and she didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she said:
- •Cellists
- •It was unusually warm that afternoon. He’d come to the hotel as usual, and begun to play for her some new pieces he’d been preparing. But after barely three minutes, she made him stop, saying:
I felt the soft material of Lindy’s night-gown brush against my back. Then she’d taken my arm and we were standing side by side.
“Good evening, officer,” she said in a sleepy, honeydew voice quite unlike her usual one.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the cop said. “And are you folks up at this time for any special reason?”
We both started to answer at once, then laughed. But neither of the men laughed or smiled.
“We were having trouble sleeping,” Lindy said. “So we were just walking.”
“Just walking.” The cop looked around in the stark white light. “Maybe looking for something to eat.”
“That’s right, officer!” Lindy’s voice was still way over the top. “We got a little hungry, the way I’m sure you do too sometimes in the night.”
“I guess room service isn’t up to much,” the cop said.
“No, it’s not so good,” I said.
“Just the usual stuff,” the cop said. “Steaks, pizzas, hamburgers, triple-decker clubs. I know because I just ordered from all-night room service myself. But I guess you folks don’t like that kind of food.”
“Well, you know how it is, officer,” Lindy said. “It’s the fun. The fun of creeping down and taking a bite, you know, a little bit forbidden, the way you did when you were a kid?”
Neither man showed any sign of melting. But the cop said:
“Sorry to trouble you folks. But you understand this area isn’t open to guests. And one or two items have gone missing just lately.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You folks see anything odd or suspicious tonight?”
Lindy and I looked at each other, then she shook her head at me dramatically.
“No,” I said. “We haven’t seen anything odd.”
“Nothing at all?”
The security guard had been coming closer, and now he came past us, squeezing his bulk along the counter. I realised the plan was for him to check us over more closely, to see if maybe we were concealing anything on our persons, while his partner kept us talking.
“No, nothing,” I said. “What kind of thing did you have in mind?”
“Suspicious people. Unusual activity.”
“Do you mean, officer,” Lindy said with shocked horror, “that rooms have been broken into?”
“Not exactly, ma’am. But certain items of value have gone missing.”
I could sense the security guard shift behind us.
“So that’s why you’re here with us,” Lindy said. “To protect us and our belongings.”
“That’s right, ma’am.” The cop’s gaze moved fractionally, and I got the impression he’d exchanged a look with the man behind us. “So if you see anything odd, please call security right away.”
The interview seemed to be over and the cop moved aside to let us out. Relieved, I made a move to go, but Lindy said:
“I suppose it was kind of naughty of us, coming down here to eat. We thought about helping ourselves to some of that gateau over there, but then we thought it might be for a special occasion and it would be such a shame to spoil it.”
“This hotel has good room service,” the cop said. “Twenty-four hours.”
I tugged at Lindy, but she seemed now to be seized by the oft-cited mania of criminals to flirt with being caught.
“And you just ordered something up yourself, officer?”
“Sure.”
“And was it good?”
“It was pretty good. I recommend you folks do the same.”
“Let’s leave these gentlemen to get on with their investigations,” I said, tugging at her arm. But still she didn’t budge.
“Officer, may I ask you something?” she asked. “Do you mind?”
“Try me.”
“You were talking just now about seeing something odd. You see anything odd yourself? I mean, about us?”
“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.”
“Like we both of us have our faces entirely wrapped in bandages? Did you notice that?”
The cop looked at us carefully, as though to verify this last statement. Then he said: “As a matter of fact, I did notice, ma’am, yes. But I didn’t wish to make personal remarks.”
“Oh, I see,” Lindy said. Then turning to me: “Wasn’t that considerate of him?”
“Come on,” I said, pulling her along now quite forcefully. I could feel both men staring at our backs all the way to the exit.
WE CROSSED THE BALLROOM with an outward show of calm. But once we were past the big swing doors, we gave in to panic and broke into a near-run. Our arms stayed linked, so we did a lot of stumbling and colliding as Lindy led me through the building. Then she pulled me into a service elevator, and only when the doors closed and we were climbing did she let go, lean back against the metal wall and start up a weird noise, which I realised was how hysterical laughter sounds coming through bandages.
When we stepped out of the elevator, she put her arm through mine again. “Okay, we’re safe,” she said. “Now I want to take you somewhere. This is really something. See this?” She was holding up a key card. “Let’s see what this can do for us.”
She used the card to get us through a door marked “Private,” then a door marked “Danger. Keep Out.” Then we were standing in a space smelling of paint and plaster. There were cables dangling from the walls and ceiling, and the cold floor was splashed and mottled. We could see fine because one side of the room was entirely glass-unadorned by curtains or blinds-and all the outdoor lighting was filling the place with yellowish patches. We were up even higher than on our floor: there was in front of us a helicopter-style view over the freeway and the surrounding territory.
“It’s going to be a new presidential suite,” Lindy said. “I love coming here. No light switches yet, no carpet. But it’s slowly coming together. When I first found it, it was much rougher. Now you can see how it’ll look. There’s even this couch now.”