Killing Me Softly Read Free Page A

suis dans la salle de bains,’ said a voice, too brightly, into my ear.
    ‘Je suis dans la salle de bains,’ I repeated obediently.
    ‘Je suis en haut!’
    What did ‘en haut’ mean? I couldn’t remember. ‘Je suis en haut,’ I said.
    The phone rang, and I pulled off the headphones. I was away from the world of sunshine and fields of lavender and outdoor cafés and back in dockland in January. It was Julie, with a problem about the flat. I suggested we meet for a drink after work. She was already seeing a couple of people so I rang Jake on his mobile and suggested he come to the Vine as well. No. He was out of town. He had gone to look at progress on a tunnel that was being dug through a site that was both beautiful and sacred to several religions. My day was nearly done.
    Julie and Sylvie were there, at a corner table with Clive, when I arrived. Behind them were some wall plants. There was a vine motif in the Vine.
    ‘You look awful,’ Sylvie said sympathetically. ‘Hangover?’
    ‘I’m not sure,’ I said, cautiously. ‘But I could do with a hangover cure anyway. I’ll get you one as well.’
    Clive had been talking about a woman he had met at a party last night.
    ‘She’s a very interesting woman,’ Clive said. ‘She’s a physiotherapist. I told her about my bad elbow, you know…’
    ‘Yes, we know.’
    ‘And she took hold of it in this special grip, and it immediately felt better. Isn’t that amazing?’
    ‘What does she look like?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘What does she look like?’ I insisted.
    The drinks arrived. He took a sip. ‘She was quite tall,’ he said. ‘Taller than you. She has brown hair, about shoulder-length. She’s good-looking, tanned, she had these amazing blue eyes.’
    ‘No wonder your elbow felt better. Did you ask her out?’
    Clive looked indignant but a bit shifty as well. He loosened his tie. ‘Of course I didn’t.’
    ‘You obviously wanted to.’
    ‘You can’t just ask a girl out like that.’
    ‘Yes, you can,’ Sylvie interrupted. ‘She touched your elbow.’
    ‘So? I don’t believe this. She touched my elbow as a physiotherapist, and that means she’s asking for it, does it?’
    ‘Not as such,’ said Sylvie primly. ‘But ask her. Ring her up. She sounds desirable to me.’
    ‘Obviously, she was… attractive, but there are two problems. One, as you know, I don’t feel that I’ve got over Christine properly. And secondly, I can’t do that sort of thing. I need an excuse.’
    ‘Do you know her name?’ I asked.
    ‘She’s called Gail. Gail Stevenson.’
    I sipped my Bloody Mary reflectively.
    ‘Call her up.’
    A look of alarm passed comically over Clive’s features. ‘What would I say?’
    ‘It doesn’t matter what you say. If she liked you, and the fact that she took hold of your elbow at the party means that she may have done, then she’ll go out with you almost whatever you say. If she didn’t, then she won’t go out with you whatever you say.’ Clive looked confused. ‘Just give her a ring,’ I said. ‘Say, "I’m the person who had the elbow that you manipulated at whateveritwas party the other night, would you like to go out?" She might be charmed.’
    Clive looked aghast. ‘Just like that?’
    ‘Absolutely.’
    ‘What should I ask her to?’
    I laughed. ‘What do you want me to do? Fix you up with a room as well?’
    I got some more drinks. When I returned, Sylvie was both smoking and talking dramatically. I was tired and only half listening to her. Across the table, I wasn’t sure because I only heard fragments, I think that Clive was telling Julie about the secret meanings hidden in the pattern on the Marlboro cigarette box. I wondered if he was drunk or mad. I lingered over the last of my drink, feeling fuzzy round the edges. This was part of the Crew, a group of people who, mostly, had met at college and stayed together, looking out for each other, spending time. They were more like my family than my