is a new batch of thick white towels just waiting for me and some delicious-smelling bubble bath. On autopilot, I start to run the bath, and almost don?t hear the phone ringing. I pick it up just in time, expecting it to be Mike. So what if he?s cross that I didn?t come back last night? I?ve had it with doing the right thing anyway. But instead of Mike?s voice I hear an Italian voice on the line.
?Hello, could I speak to Meester Marshall, please??
?Um, he?s not here I?m afraid,? I say. ?Could I take a message??
?You?re sure he?s not there?? The voice is charming but persistent.
?Absolutely!? I say. I mean, I would know if Mike was in the room, wouldn?t I?
?And when do you expect him back??
?Well, I don?t know really,? I say crossly. I?m actually a bit sick and tired of acting as a messenger service today. First the bitch woman for David, and now this guy. ?I?m sure he?ll be back eventually. I suggest you call again later.?
?I see.? Through the nice veneer, I get the impression that this man is not a very nice person.
?In that case I will call him this evening.?
?Great. Can I say who called??
?Oh, it?s family,? comes the reply and the phone goes dead.
Family? I didn?t know Mike had family in Italy. I sit down on the bed, lost in thought. There?s something about all this that doesn?t add up. Threatening phone calls, all those barbed comments from Brian, and Mike holding drugs for people, maybe even selling them. What is Mike really doing in Rome? I notice the holdall that I carried for him sticking out from under the bed and pull it out quickly. Just what is inside? But it?s empty. Whatever the papers were, they aren?t there any longer.
Standing up, I kick the bag back under the bed. What do I care what was in it anyway? Mike can do whatever he likes. I just don?t want to be involved anymore.
I pad to the bathroom and immerse myself in the hot soapy water, washing the morning?s events away. What?s needed is a nice clean slate.
I am in the middle of a daydream (me in my pink dress, walking into a restaurant where David is eating with the bitch woman; David looking up at me with a look that says ?I didn?t realize how beautiful you are?; him leaving the bitch woman at their table and walking off into the sunset with me) when I hear a key in the door. I quickly cover myself up with bubbles.
Mike walks in and tries the bathroom door. Why didn?t I lock it? He sticks his head round the door and then looks away again.
?When I said that I?d see you back at the hotel I meant the same fucking day,? he says, turning on the television.
I get out of the bath quickly and wrap myself up in a robe. I consider making up a story, but don?t have the energy.
?I left you a message. The thing is, I sort of bumped into David. I?m sorry, Mike.?
He looks up at me and then looks back at the television. ?So your accountant boyfriend thought he?d come along for the ride, did he? Well, that?s about right. I see he took you shopping. Popped out of his fancy hotel to get you some new clothes, did he?? He has obviously noticed my Gucci bag. I can?t be bothered to tell him the full story so I just nod. I wonder for a moment how Mike would know David was staying in a fancy hotel, but assume he must be guessing.
?Yeah, well, you missed a fucking great night. But I suppose these days you prefer nights in with a cup of cocoa with David.?
Mike lies down on the bed and doubles a pillow up to act as a neck rest. He isn?t looking at me so I choose to ignore his comments. I just want to go home, but my flight doesn?t leave until 6P.M . I want to defend David, to tell Mike that we had a fantastic night dancing and that David is far more exciting than Mike could possibly imagine, but I can?t think about David without seeing an image of him with that woman in my head. David does have a more interesting side to him. I?m just not sure I like it all that much.
Mike is studying the back of a CD intently. Incredibly he doesn?t seem particularly bothered that I left him in the lurch; he?s mildly pissed off but that?s all. I decide I am really bad at reading people. I mean, I thought Mike would be furious. And I never thought I?d see David with a glamorous cow on his arm.
?Someone called you, by the way.?
Mike looks round, startled. ?Here? At the hotel??
?Yes. Some Italian bloke. Said he was family. Do you have Italian family??
He gets up quickly and walks to the window, looking out furtively. ?Family? Oh Christ.?
?What? Mike, what?s the matter??
Mike looks dreadful for a minute, then he seems to pull himself together.
?Oh, nothing really. I?ve . . . I?ve got some family out here. Uncle . . . Uncle Pedro. It?s family feud stuff. I . . . I borrowed some money off him a while back and I haven?t paid it back, that?s all.?
?I thought Pedro was a Spanish name??
?Yeah, well, maybe he?s half Spanish. How do I fucking know??
Mike glares at me and I smile sweetly at him. I can see that he?s really unsettled and I?m quite enjoying it.
?You don?t look particularly Italian. Or Spanish,? I say thoughtfully. ?So why don?t you pay back the money now that you?re rolling in it??
Mike looks at me strangely, then turns away. ?Yeah. Yeah, I will. But look, if he calls again can you say I?m not
