Last Tango in Aberystwyth

toads down at that filthy club who saw her as a piece of meat.'

'You don't know what you are talking about.'

'Oh yes I do! I'm not a lusting animal like you, I love Myfanwy with —'

'Love!' I shouted. 'You call this love? What, do you know about love?'

'Everything!' he screamed. 'I've read everything there is available on the subject!'

I laughed bitterly. 'You didn't find out the first thing, Brainbocs. Not the first thing. This proves it. A cold inhuman monster such as you doesn't have the capacity to love. You think this is Myfanwy? A brain in a chemistry set? Myfanwy is the girl running along the sand dunes at Ynyslas with the salty wind blowing in her chestnut hair, with firm young limbs of warm flesh and blood, running joyously into the sea ...'

'Oh spare me!' shouted Brainbocs. 'Spare me the pink candy hearts! You'll be telling me next love is a many- splendoured thing!'

'It is!' I cried. 'It fucking well is!'

'Oh sure, the April rose that only grows ... Grow up, Louie Knight!'

'Myfanwy isn't a brain in a petri dish, she was the taste of salt on her skin after swimming in the sea ... the coldness of her salty wet hair and the goosebumps and laughter and ... and ... and ... Jesus, even now you haven't the faintest idea what I'm talking about. Not the faintest. This isn't love what you are doing here. It's just dissection.'

There was a pause. And I could see Brainbocs visibly straining to calm himself. He straightened his tie and twisted his head sharply from side to side as he did so. 'This is absurd. I won't allow you to infuriate me with your cheap gumshoe antics. I know the score. Get me upset and then make an attempt to get the remote control. Well you can forget about that.'

'Oh do stop fighting, you two!' warbled Myfanwy.

'You'll understand after you've had a chance to chat to Myfanwy.'

'She isn't here.'

'You see,' he hissed, his face once more twisting with venom. 'I knew it. I told her but she wouldn't have it. You don't really love her. Just before we came in I asked you whether it was her body or her brain you admired. Well I think we have our answer now, don't we?'

'Are you so blind that you cannot see the one doesn't go without the other?'

'Oh really? Says who? You may not desire her any more but I do.'

'Is she happy?'

His eyes shot open. 'Since when has that been a criterion? Who's happy round here, huh? Nobody as far as I can see. Happy? Happy? I've never been happy a single day in my whole fucking life. Have you?'

'Yes, I have. Almost every day.'

'Well you don't look very happy today!'

'It hasn't ended yet.'

'You throw happiness at me as if it was the touchstone of man's existence whereas statistically it's the very absence of it that seems to define us. Happiness? It's crap.'

'You say you love her and you don't even want to make her happy?'

'I deal in facts and certainties, Louie. Not candy floss. Any rational analysis of the world makes it clear that I cannot promise her happiness. But I can make her happier. You see, despite everything, we still have each other. And now, in her modified form, at least no one will try and take her away from me.'

'Is that so?'

'Yes, Mr Knight, it very much is so. That, if you will forgive me underlining it, is the whole point. Because I know that despite your fine words you no longer want her. While I still do.'

'What makes you so sure?'

'Oh I'm sure,' he said. 'Very sure. In fact, that's why I brought you here. Because I knew once you saw her you would hate her.'

'I don't hate her.'

'Perhaps. But you do not love her.'

'She's not the same girl.'

'Oh you're back-pedalling now, Louie. Back-pedalling. The tragedy for you is, she is the same girl. You could stay here all week and chat to her and you would never be able to deny it. The only thing that is not the same is physical. The tits and the bum — or what was that bollocks again? The cold wet tongues of hair on the goosebumpy skin. That was all you desired and it's gone.'

'It's not true, Brainbocs.'

'Really? Tell her then. Go and tell her that you still love her.'

I paused and my indecision filled him with glee.

'You see! You can't bring yourself to do it.'

'Why the hell should I?'

'To save Calamity, of course.'

I turned to him and stared at the smug self-assurance on his face. Again Brainbocs made efforts to calm himself, breathing deeply and counting the breaths. And then, much cooler, he said. 'You may protest and throw your teddy out of the pram, even call me a load of schoolyard names, but underneath it all you're not stupid. The deal I'm offering you is one you cannot possibly refuse. Tell Myfanwy you don't love her and I will tell you where they have taken Calamity.'

I rushed at him again but again I was too slow. Or Brainbocs was too quick. Another lightning fork flashed inside my ribs, picked me up and threw me to the ground with terrifying force. I convulsed and writhed on the floor, as my heart beat so powerfully I thought my chest would explode. Brainbocs looked on impassively and, once the convulsions had subsided, said, 'You stupid fool.' Rhodri threw a tureen of cold water into my face and I dragged myself wearily back to the chair.

Brainbocs continued, 'I can assure you, Louie, you will get tired of that before I do. But enough of this. Let us seal the deal.'

'What if I don't co-operate?'

'You have no choice. You would be stupid to refuse because it is in your best interests. You love Calamity like a father. You no longer love Myfanwy, despite your brave words. So to give her up will not be so very hard except for the wound it will deal to your honour. And set against the welfare of Calamity, what is that?'

Was he right? His words had twisted me so much that I hardly knew any more what to think.

'Tell me what they have done with Calamity,' I eventually said.

Brainbocs drove his car over to a bureau and fetched a pile of papers. 'I can't tell you exactly where, you have to understand. We're not in this together, if that's what you think. Mrs Llantrisant has no more love for me than she does for you. But I know how to find out.'

'How would I know you are not lying?'

'You wouldn't but when I explain it to you, you will know it to be the truth. You will feel it in your water. And besides, all you have to do is tell Myfanwy you no longer love her. If I double-cross you, you simply say you didn't mean it. You can't lose.'

'So where have they taken her, what does Herod hold sacred?'

He lifted the pile of papers.

'It's not, as you might first imagine, anything to do with rugby or beer, nor even as I had secretly suspected the exciting smell of adolescent boys' fear. It was something more primal than that and dated back to a time shortly after the war in Patagonia. A time when he had all the normal appetites of a healthy young man. A man who could still laugh and love, whose soul had not yet been torn apart by the memory of that terrible conflict. This man had a love affair with someone. Can you guess who?'

I narrowed my eyes and stared in disbelief and hate at the little worm.

'Go on have a go.'

'Mrs Llantrisant?'

'Close. Her sister, Mrs Bligh-Jones.'

I looked startled.

'Ah, you didn't know they were sisters. Oh yes. And bitter love rivals.'

'But Mrs Llantrisant had Bligh-Jones assassinated.'