“Yes please, what you like” she asked breezily.
He looked to Ivan and me, “Another?” he asked
“Not for me thanks,” I said, holding a hand up. Ivan nodded that he would.
I was attempting both to appear and to act sensible.
“Okay, just one more bottle of red please, gracias.”
“Wow, I’m really stuffed,” I said after she left. “The food here is amazing.
“Not bad, not bad,” agreed Ivan.
“The steak tonight was outstanding,” said Richard. “Did either of you have any?”
We both shook our heads.
“Oh my, the chef – he looked like Gordon Ramsay – he was excellent – a bit of a dish himself! You’d have liked him Ivan,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“He thinks I fancy Ramsay – rubbish really,” said Ivan, camping up his voice and gesturing to me conspiratorially. I still thought his eyes didn’t look right.
“Anyway, you would have liked his cooking, seriously Ivan, first class.” said Richard easily.
Richard’s table talk throughout the night had been generally relaxed and engaging. He seemed to enjoy it, like supper with Orson Welles. Thankfully Richard didn’t have his gait. You could tell how he was used to making others feel at ease, enjoying being the lynchpin that made for good diner parties. I imagined that many a client had been wooed by him. I wondered if I had been the only one he had wooed into bed.
Richard went on to talk about a luxury cruise they had gone on a few years before on the Mediterranean.
“He asked me how I would like my steak cooked and I asked for it rare. He said ‘of course sir’ and began to prepare the steak, adding a flourish of salt and pepper. Steam shot off and the juices began to sizzle. Diners standing waiting to order practically licked their lips as the waft of garlic infused meat hit their noses. Then as he flipped the steak, he looked over his glasses and caught me eye, ‘Rare sir,’ he said, as they say in your country – ‘as hens’ teeth.’ Why I never!”
Richard broke into a throaty cough and Ivan laughed too, slapping his own leg. I giggled a little, it was funny.
“Very good Richard,” I said, “Maybe you should have told him it tasted beezer!” I said with a wink.
“Ha, very good,” he replied, “Maybe, maybe.”
“I wonder how he’d heard of ‘hen’s teeth’ – random!”
“God only knows, but I’m glad, sure it gave me a nice anecdote,” he said, a peaceful smile crossing his lips.
I smiled back, but felt Ivan’s cold eyes on me.
After dessert, I was truly stuffed. I had kept to my promise of only having one more drink and if I hadn’t I would have been getting rather sleepy. I started to make my excuses that I was tired, but that I’d had a lovely evening and so forth. They made the right noises about wanting me to stay a little longer and then we ordered a coffee to finish off our meals.
Ivan held up the remains of his glass of wine and swilled around again. His face had become quite ruddy and a very obvious slur could be detected in his voice. I think Richard had sensed this too and had been leading the conversation away from any controversial areas a number of times. Every so often during the evening, Ivan had begun to pontificate on anything from abortion to third world debt. Each time Richard had skilfully steered things clear.
“Very nice legs,” he said softly and glanced over his glass towards me.
“Pardon?” I said with uncertain laugh, not sure if I’d heard right.
“Very nice legs,” he repeated, almost brooding.
What the fuck is he at?
“Ivan,” said Richard quietly but firmly, placing his hand on the other man’s knee.
Ivan dramatically swilled his wine in his glass again and let out a deep guffaw.
“The legs,” he said pointing into the glass with his free hand, “The residue left on the inside of a glass – it shows how alcoholic a drink is by what remains.”
He let out another loud laugh and continued to chuckle to himself. Richard tried to skim over the awkwardness and then whispered crisply into Ivan’s ear.
“I know what it means,” I said plainly; the only point I let my own mask sleep a little.
The conversation returned to some general chit chat, everyone straining to cover their drunkenness and whatever thoughts they had about one other. There was too much of a strange atmosphere now hanging in the air. It was like the evening heat outside – sometimes you just need a good thunderstorm to take the pressure away and wash away the dirt. That wasn’t going to happen tonight. As we parted, it was all hugs and smiles, though we made no other arrangement to meet again, as I prayed we wouldn’t. I walked around the side of the hotel, listening to the echoey clip clop of my sandals on the concrete. I slipped out a cigarette that I had rolled before the meal, knowing I’d be gasping. I had been. As I sparked it with a new hotel-branded lighter, the night replayed in my head and I cringed a few times. The first smoke gave way to a second. I decided I couldn’t tell if they suspected me for the robbery or not. They certainly made no mention of ever being robbed. Maybe that was relevant. I don’t know.
One thing I was certain of – Ivan knew about me and Richard.
16
The next morning, I actually felt some relief.
Kinda weird.
I had met them and it was over and I had survived okay. It’s like when you know a job interview hasn’t gone well, but at least it’s done. I strategized that I would just keep an eye out and try and avoid seeing them, but would just settle myself down and damn well enjoy my holiday. I sure as well needed it – never mind that I’d paid out a small fortune on it. I spent much of the day
