Bright Air - Barry Maitland [12]
‘It’d be better if we sat down together, the three of us. Have you got a half-hour you could spare in the next day or two? We’ll come to you.’
He laughed. ‘Mysterious, Josh. Well, of course, if it’s important. Stirred up a few memories today, did it?’
‘Yeah.’
We waited, then he came back on. ‘How about this evening, six-thirty? There’s a little bar across the street from where I work—Sammy’s Bar.’
‘Fine. See you there.’
As soon as I hung up Anna thanked me and said she had to go. We got in Mary’s car and I drove her to Central to catch her train back to work.
‘See you tonight,’ I said, and she waved and ran off into the crowd.
I arrived at Sammy’s Bar with ten minutes to spare and saw Anna already there, sitting at a corner table with a glass of mineral water and a look of lock-jawed determination. I bought a beer and joined her.
‘Your clients all tucked up for the night?’ I asked.
She smiled, looking tired. ‘They’re watching a movie, which means they’ll all be asleep.’
‘So, what’s the approach?’
‘Will you tell him? I think it’ll work better that way.’
‘Fine.’ I took a welcome gulp of cold beer and looked around. The bar was filled with clusters of corporate warriors, young men and women making quick sharp judgements on the action of the day. They were the same as the people I used to know in London, and as I picked up snatches of their insider chatter I felt like a deserter, absent without leave. There was one table with four girls sitting together. A spotlight overhead caught the hair and face of one of them and she reminded me of someone. At first I couldn’t place the memory, and then it came to me, a girl I’d met not long after I’d first arrived in London. I remembered feeling guilty with her, as if I was being unfaithful to Luce, not realising that Luce was already dead. What surprised me now was how long it had taken me to make the connection, as if my London experiences were already being packed away in mental drawers of long-term memory. Soon it would be as if London, all four years of it, had never happened, and I felt a stab of resentment that Anna was dragging me straight back to the time before I’d left.
‘How’s your love-life these days, Anna?’ I asked. ‘Do you have a partner?’
She shook her head. ‘Not at the moment. You?’
‘No. There was someone in London, but …’ I shrugged. ‘How about Damien? Do you know?’
‘Oh yes, rather predictable really. He married the senior partner’s daughter. Captured her heart within three weeks of joining the firm, I believe.’
‘As soon as he’d mastered the six-minute time sheets, eh? Were you invited to the wedding?’
‘Yes, but I couldn’t go. Owen told me about it afterwards. Very plush apparently.’
‘Kiddies?’
‘I don’t know.’ She glanced over my shoulder. ‘Here he is now.’
I got to my feet and went over to intercept Damien, feeling the need for a little foreplay.
‘Hi, Damien.’ Another firm handshake. He was in shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his thick silk tie unfastened, a sheen of sweat on his face as if he’d just walked out of a heavy meeting. ‘You look as if you could do with a beer.’
‘Too right, but better make it a mineral water, mate. I’m in the middle of a conference.’
‘Oh, sorry. Listen, Anna’s just told me you’re hitched. Congratulations!’
He grinned. ‘Thanks. We wanted to invite you, but I didn’t have your address.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Lauren. Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay long. What’s this all about, Josh?’
‘Oh, just something that came up when we were talking after the funeral.’ I paid for his drink and we made our way between the gesticulating combatants to our table. I noticed that Damien, too, seemed unsure how to greet Anna, then braced himself and bent to kiss her cheek.
They exchanged brief compliments about how they both looked, Anna reserved and Damien expansive, trying to gauge her mood.
‘So, what do we need to discuss?’
‘The funeral got us talking about Luce’s death, Damien,’ I said.
‘Oh?’ He looked wary.
‘Yes, about how the two of us weren’t there, with the rest of you, when it happened. And then the fact that she