Corpse in Waiting Read Free Page B

as the wine had flowed freely at the Roman Baths afterwards and she had taken full advantage of it.
    I was still doing my sphinx thing.
    â€˜Fancy seeing her again after all this time,’ Patrick said musingly as we went up to our hotel room.
    â€˜Yes, fancy,’ I heard myself respond, graven image-like.
    I felt, rather than saw, the sideways look he gave me.
    â€˜Surely you don’t blame me for having girlfriends while we were apart.’
    I looked him right in the eye. ‘No, of course not. I just don’t like women who call a man darling in public when they haven’t seen him in years and he’s obviously with someone else. It’s just plain bad manners.’ Even uttering the words made me feel an old fogey.
    â€˜Alex is like that,’ Patrick said with a reflective smile.
    â€˜As well as being a binge drinker?’
    â€˜That’s not like you, and cruel,’ he shot back at me.
    â€˜No, actually this is me being your consultant,’ I countered. ‘You know, the one on the other end of the phone when things go a bit tits-up for you? Dispassionately, and I might add soberly, I’m telling you that that woman will make trouble for you.’
    â€˜Look, I’m only going to look round some houses with her.’
    â€˜She’s well on the way to ending up a booze-soaked old buzzard.’
    â€˜Now you’re being ridiculous.’
    â€˜Did you sleep with her?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    I was being ridiculous and I knew he was lying, a shock in itself, and it came to me a little later that we had not had an exchange of words like this since just before we were divorced.

TWO
    T he morning brought a murky sky with darker, thunder-grey clouds on the horizon. Later, as we stood on the pavement outside the hotel I heard the first rumbles and, cursed with flippancy even in bad moments, it occurred to me that this could be the backdrop for a scene in a rather tacky movie. Even our surroundings, one of the finer terraces in Bath, would have had a locations manager bouncing up and down with joy.
    And here stood the hero and heroine, I thought glumly, still not at ease with one another, he thinking she was silent on account of the presence of an old flame, or damp squib, whichever way you looked at it, she desperately wondering how to break the stalemate.
    We were still standing there fifteen minutes later, getting restless, the storm coming closer, when Patrick’s mobile rang. It soon became obvious that it was Commander Michael Greenway, his boss. Nothing too exciting by the sound of it, just making contact. The call ended.
    â€˜Good of him to ring,’ I commented.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Did he say anything about any job he might have for you?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜How long do you think we ought to wait here?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    â€˜She’s probably still asleep.’
    A grunt.
    We lapsed into silence again.
    At seven minutes past ten, large spots of rain beginning to thunk on to the pavement, I was just about to give up when a Ford estate car roared up to us and screeched to a halt.
    â€˜Morning!’ Alexandra shrieked out of the driver’s window, following this with ‘Shit!’ as she stalled the engine.
    I was directed to the back seat, ‘So Patrick can show me the way,’ and duly shifted various items to make space for myself; a thin leather document case, open and stuffed full with papers that were spilling out everywhere, road maps, two umbrellas and a large make-up bag. The car jerked away before I had settled, throwing me into the seat. I mulled over how I would be safest; with my seat belt fastened or not, and then discovered that they all appeared to be trapped behind the upholstery where the seats had been folded down to make room for carrying a bigger load in the rear.
    â€˜You need a left here,’ Patrick was saying, having to raise his voice above a downpour as the storm arrived.
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