Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [43]
To his surprise, he could hear strange sounds outside his front door, on the communal landing. Voices. In the plural. At least one of them was male, so it wasn’t just Amy talking to herself, insane with heartbreak. Then he heard a burst of static, as if a pizza-delivery person or a taxi-driver was outside. Then more voices, tinny and muffled. Very weird.
Lorcan jumped as a very sharp ratatat-tat hammered on his front door. An officious, imperious ratatat-tat, not the apologetic knuckle-grazing of a broken woman.
‘Mr Larkin,’ a man’s voice commanded. ‘Can you hear me? Can you open this door?’ Another burst of static followed.
‘He doesn’t appear to be responding,’ the voice said.
‘We’d better go in,’ replied a woman’s voice. Not Amy’s.
Lorcan was more intrigued than frightened. Not frightened at all. If they were trying to rob him they were making an awful job of the discretion that was the hallmark of a good burglar.
‘We’ll try to remove the lock,’ the man’s voice said.
You will in your eye, Lorcan thought in alarm. Locks cost lots of money. He marched to the door and flung it wide.
To their great consternation, Constable Nigel Dickson and Constable Linda Miles came face to face with a very large, very annoyed, very naked man wearing a pink towel around his head and holding tightly on to his penis.
‘Er, Mr Larkin, sir?’ Constable Dickson asked, when he’d recovered his aplomb.
‘Who wants to know?’ Lorcan replied cagily, taking in the burly twosome, the uniforms, the hats, the walkie-talkies, the hefty truncheons, the fluorescent overjackets, the black and white squares on everything.
‘A Mr Lorcan Larkin has been reported missing by a Ms Amy… What’s her second name?’ he asked his colleague.
But Constable Linda Miles wasn’t really paying attention. She couldn’t take her eyes off Lorcan. She’d never seen ginger pubes before. Although, she thought, these weren’t so much ginger, as a beautiful, reddy-gold colour…
‘A Ms Amy Jones.’ Nigel had to consult his notebook as it became clear his colleague couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lorcan’s pubic area. ‘She was concerned when you didn’t answer her telephone calls, even though she could see lights on in your flat. She feared that you may have injured yourself, either accidentally or… deliberately.’ His voice faded away when he saw the fury on Lorcan’s face.
‘Where is she?’ Lorcan hissed, letting go of his willy.
‘In the squad car.’ Nigel swallowed anxiously. Maybe it was one of those ones that didn’t get much bigger when they were erect. ‘We said we’d radio her when we’d gained entrance.’
‘Before you arrest her for wasting police time,’ Lorcan menaced, ‘tell her I’ve got an audition tomorrow. If I don’t get the part, it’ll be her fault.’
Lorcan slammed the door in their faces and Linda narrowed her eyes at Nigel. ‘You know, I suspected that woman was a time-waster.’
‘You fancied him,’ Nigel threw jealously at Linda.
‘Nige, I never!’ she exclaimed, defensively.
‘You did, I saw you looking at his todger. I bet you wish mine was as big as his.’
‘Nige, I never!’
Constable Nigel Dickson and Constable Linda Miles had been having an affair for the previous four and a half months. This was their first row.
‘Anyway,’ Nigel said, a mite tearfully, ‘he’s a Paddy, probably in the IRA.’
‘Oooh, was he Irish, Nige?’ Linda said, in disappointment. ‘I don’t like the Irish.’
Lorcan slammed the door and returned to bed. Not as angry as he’d pretended to be. Very relieved, actually. For one heart-stopping moment he’d thought his past had finally run him to ground and that he was going to be arrested. For one of those ridiculous crimes like having sex with a minor.
Instead a woman had used the boys in blue in a desperate attempt to make him talk to her. It was a first and he had to admit he was flattered.
16
On Monday morning when Tara woke up she was starving. But she was filled with a great determination not to eat. Hunger is my friend, she repeated over and over again as she lay in bed and drank the black coffee Thomas had left for her. Hunger is my very best pal.