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There is a certain self-conscious pleasure in describing, before the event, one’s more distinguished moments, and that is exactly what Domenica experienced, sitting there in the boat, waiting for the adventure to unfold. And it did unfold.
Big Lou’s coffee bar was not full that morning – it never was –
but at least Matthew, Pat and Angus Lordie were there, together with Cyril, of course, who lay contentedly beneath one of the tables. Cyril had one eye closed and one eye open, the latter fixed watchfully on Matthew’s ankles, barely eighteen inches away from him. It had been Cyril’s long-cherished ambition to bite Matthew’s ankles, not for reasons of antipathy towards him – Cyril quite liked Matthew – but because of the sheer attractiveness to a dog of that particular set of ankles. But he knew that he could never do this, and so he just watched with one eye, imagining the pleasure of sinking his teeth into that inviting target.
The conversation had ranged widely, but had been largely dominated by Angus, who was in an argumentative mood. From time to time, Matthew had thrown an anxious glance in the direction of Big Lou, about whom he was still worried. He had not yet had the opportunity to tell Angus about the trip that he had made to Glasgow with Stuart and about their conversation
– if one could call it that – with Lard O’Connor. He had felt cheered by the trip, but now, seeing Lou still in a despondent state, he wondered whether he was putting too much faith in Lard’s agreement to help. He had tried to convey to him some sense of the urgency which he thought attended the issue, but Lard had been remarkably casual and had told Matthew not to fash himself. Now Matthew wondered if Lard would ever get round to coming over to Edinburgh.
They had finished their first cup of coffee and were on the point of ordering refills when Angus, who was sitting facing the doorway, noticed two shadows on the window which told him that somebody was coming down the stairway from the street.
One of the shadows looked extremely large.
“Here comes a substantial customer,” he remarked.
Matthew turned round, as did Pat, just at the moment that the door was opened. Lard O’Connor stepped into the room, to be followed, immediately, by Eddie. Matthew gasped.
Seeing Matthew at his table, Lard nodded to him and then walked up to the bar, Eddie trailing behind him reluctantly.
“You’re the wummin they call Big Lou?” Lard asked.
“Aye,” said Lou. “That’s me.”
Matthew noticed that as she answered Lard, Big Lou was looking at Eddie. Her expression was a curious one: there was anxiety there, but also an expression that looked very much like regret.
“Hello, Eddie,” said Lou. “I hadn’t expected to see you.” Lard turned to Eddie and gestured for him to come up to the bar.
“Eddie wanted to say something,” he said. “Didn’t you, Eddie?”
Eddie looked helplessly at Lou. Matthew noticed that there was a bruise on one of his cheeks, and one of his eyes, he thought, was badly bloodshot, the surrounding skin discoloured.
“Eddie?” Big Lou’s voice was strained.
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Eddie looked at Lard, who nodded his head in the direction of Lou.
“Don’t keep us waiting,” muttered Lard. “You know fine what to say.”
“I’ve come to pay you back, Lou,” said Eddie. “I can’t manage the full thirty-four grand, but here’s twenty-five. That’s all I’ve got left.” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and took out a folded cheque, which he pushed over the counter towards Lou.
“And?” said Lard, glowering at Eddie. “You have another statement to make, don’t you?”
Eddie looked down at the floor. Witnessing his humiliation, Matthew felt almost sorry for him, but then he remembered.
Eddie did not deserve his sympathy. “That thing about the coffee bar,” he said. “That piece of paper you signed. I’ve decided to give my share back to you.” He paused, and looked over his shoulder, as if looking for an escape route.
“And?” said Lard menacingly.
“So here it is,” said Eddie. “I’ve put it in writing.”
“Always get things in writing,” said Lard, turning to address Matthew. “Every time. Never rely on gentlemen’s agreements.
Some people just aren’t gentlemen, know what I mean?”
Matthew nodded. “You’re right there, Lard,” he said.
Big Lou reached out and took the document which Eddie had passed over the counter. She looked at it, nodded, and then slipped it into the pocket of her apron. “Thanks, Eddie,” she said.
There was a silence. Matthew looked at Eddie, knowing that he was staring at a broken man. Angus felt that too, and looked away in embarrassment. Pat busied herself with her empty coffee cup. She had never liked Eddie either, but the sight of him being obliged to behave like an errant schoolboy was not a comfortable one.
“One last thing,” said Lard. “Then you can go.”
Eddie fixed his gaze on the floor. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
