‘Oh, utterly, utterly bonkers. The neurobiological equivalent of a man’s hair turning white overnight.’
‘But you don’t know what happened?’
‘It’s a military secret. You could ask the chaplain; he preaches at the community shelter by the war memorial; but, as I say, he lost his marbles and has never recovered them.’
I held the flask in front of his face and waggled it. ‘You sure you don’t know?’
‘Sincerely I don’t. As I say, no one will talk about it. Is there anything else I can help you with? If you’re thinking of modelling the battle you’ll need some of these.’ He placed a curatorial hand on some toy soldiers. The label said, ‘32nd Airbourne’.
‘Is that how you spell airborne?’
‘Alas, no, they were not really the airborne – they had no planes. They were from Fairbourne. Dropped the “F” in a hopelessly misguided attempt to big themselves up.’
I walked to the door and he held it open with a cloying smile.
‘What makes you think I want to model it, anyway?’
‘All that stuff about the trainspotters was a smokescreen. I knew as soon as you walked in what you were after. Goodbye. Oh, and if you do want to make a model of the Mission House siege, don’t forget this.’
He handed me a small plastic figurine of an angel.
Outside the door Calamity looked peeved and said, ‘It’s not supposed to work like that.’
‘I guess he must have read the Pinkerton manual before you. You can’t win them all.’
She gave me a sour look. I sent her off to check up on the dead student, Emily Bishop, to see if she had a roommate who might talk. I had an appointment with Myfanwy.
* * *
Something about the way the date with Tadpole ended last night had made me uneasy about leaving Myfanwy in her care. I went back to the office, picked up her LPs and made the climb up to the top of the hill. Everything seemed fine when I arrived. Myfanwy was asleep again and Tadpole was combing her hair and spreading it out over the pillow. It seemed to me to be an unwarranted invasion of the patient’s privacy, and not really within her remit, but I wasn’t sure whether I should say so. She looked up at my entrance and we locked glances. It was one of those moments, the first meeting after a quarrel or something like it.
She beamed at me. ‘Louie, I’m so glad you’re here, I was so worried. About what happened, you know, last night. I was horrible, I don’t know how you will ever forgive me.’
‘It’s OK, don’t worry about it.’
‘But how can I not? I cheated you. I said I’d give you the man’s name and then I didn’t. No wonder you hate me.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Look, here it is, I’ve written it down for you.’ She handed me a slip of paper on which was written, ‘Caleb Penpegws. Corporal or something. In the army. The one that went to Patagonia’.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know all the details.’
‘This is fine.’
‘What have you got under your arm? Looks like records.’
‘The doctor told me to bring them in. They might cheer Myfanwy up.’
‘Oh, how lovely! Let me help you.’ She took the records and put them down on a table. ‘I’ll see if we can find a record player.’ She walked up to me and looked into my face. ‘Do you forgive me, then?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’
‘But I was horrible last night.’
I waved the slip of paper and put it in my pocket. ‘This more than makes up for it.’
‘You forgive me, then?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, Louie! You are so wonderful!’ She threw her arms round me and pulled me in and kissed me on the lips. I tried to struggle free but they obviously do a lot of press-ups at the Soldiers for Jesus boot camp and I found her grip hard to break. She continued pressing her lips on mine, making a long drawn out “Mmmm” sound. I found myself staring over her shoulder at the sleeping face of Myfanwy. And Myfanwy was staring, eyes wide open, at me.
Chapter 9
OUR GAZES LOCKED for the briefest fraction of a second before she closed her eyes again; not simply closed, but pressed tightly shut like a defiant child’s. I drew up a chair and picked up a magazine, to give the impression of one settling in for a long wait, but really hoping for Tadpole to leave. Eventually she did after wasting time doing needless and irritating tidying-up chores.
I put the magazine down. ‘Stop pretending, I know you’re awake.’
No reaction. She carried on feigning sleep.
‘Oh, come on, Myfanwy.’
Still no reaction.
‘Oh, please, Myfanwy. I know what you saw but it was nothing. She was just thanking me.’
Silence.
‘I know you can hear me.’
Silence.
‘This is ridiculous. You don’t seriously think there’s something between me and . . . and that thing, do you? They call her Tadpole. It’s an insult to frogs.’
Silence.
‘This is silly.’
Silence. Or was that a slight, stifled ‘Hmmmph’?
‘You’re not supposed to sound exasperated if you’re asleep. You want to pretend to be asleep when you’re not, that’s fine. But you can’t go “Hmmmph” as well.’
There was a pause and she said, ‘Are you still here?’
‘If you’re going to speak you might as well open your eyes.’
‘I didn’t like what I saw last time I did that.’
‘That wasn’t what it seemed.’
‘How many times have I heard that?’
‘You think I want to kiss a girl who looks like that? It was like being a kid again, getting grabbed by my auntie.’
‘Is that how you talk about me when I’m not around?’
‘Are you nuts? How could you think such a thing?’
‘Oh, I wonder how. Maybe because I saw you snogging my nurse. What sort of guy does that? Has a fling with the nurse right by the bedside of his dying girlfriend—’
‘You’re not dying.’
She opened her eyes. ‘How do you know? I might be.’
‘Myfanwy.’
‘Nobody would care if I did.’
‘Everybody would care.’
She closed her eyes again.
‘Open them up, for God’s sake.’
‘Don’t have to if I don’t want.’
‘That’s childish.’
Another stifled ‘Hmmmph’.
‘I risked my life for you. Do you hear that? Risked my bloody life.’
She opened her eyes. ‘I didn’t ask you to.’
