Then she saw his knuckles were raw and bleeding and he said, ‘Hands-on policing.’
‘Oh.’
He moved to the passenger seat, asked, ‘Will you drive?’
She did.
No words for a while, then she said, ‘I have a question.’
‘OK.’
‘What is it with Barbara Streisand and you lot?’
He laughed out loud, said, ‘Only if you answer a question too.’
‘Sure.’
‘What is it with the baseball caps?’
Making amends
McDonald was anxious. He’d yet to see Sarah and he was fearful of her reaction. He wasn’t sure if:
A She’d physically attack him,
B She’d verbally attack him,
C A
Or, worse, report him.
He was playing these various scenes when she appeared in the corridor and … she was smiling! Jeez, he thought, has she a knife? His experience linked women’s smiles to violence.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Oh right … listen, about last night … I… She waved him quiet, said, ‘I’m the one who needs to apologise. I blacked out after the pub, you must have taken me home.’
‘Ahm … yeah … I did … you don’t remember?’
‘I am mortified. Please let me make it up to you.’
‘What?’
‘Dinner at my place, Friday … eight o’ clock … do you eat curry?’
‘Curry … sure, that’s great … I’ll bring some wine.’
She gave a shy smile, ‘Just mineral water for me. I want to remember this night.’
‘Sparkling?’
‘I’m lit up already.’
What about the hotel where I was asked, do I want the double bed or the comfortable bed? I thought, ‘This is a quiz I am not up to.’ (Janet Street-Porter)
Brant stirred, thought, oh no, not again.
But OK … he wasn’t dying. Went to stretch and his left hand touched a face.
‘Jesus!’ he roared, sitting straight up.
Took a quick look:
A woman … thank God.
Then he looked again: the Spanish woman.
Yahoo, he’ d scored … way to go, Brant!
For one horrible moment a movie flashed through his head. Jane Fonda comes out of a blackout to find a corpse beside her.
If he could just remember her name. Weren’t all these Spanish women called the same?
His hangover, though not a killer, was jamming his mental faculties.
He went to get some tea and clothes. Took another peek at her, not bad at all. Made the tea and dry swallowed aspirin.
Rough.
Got some toast done then took it back to the bedroom. Thought it was a shame to wake her, because then she’d start to talk. Touched her arm, said, ‘Isabella?’
No movement.
Poked harder.
‘
‘
She took a moment to focus, landed, asked, ‘
‘No, it’s morning.’
She sat up, none of the modest grabbing for sheets.
Let it show.
‘You said,
‘It’s kinda all I got.’
She tasted the tea, went, ‘
And leapt out of bed, said, ‘This is no good, I’ll make us Spanish coffee.’
‘But I don’t have anything from Spain.’
She put her hands on her hips, asked, ‘And what am I?’
‘Oh … right.’
She disappeared into the kitchen with a shopping bag. Time on, she’s back with coffee and baked or heated toast-sorta. Brant tasted the coffee, said, ‘It tastes like … vanilla…
‘
Brant was less sure about the last bit. Mornings were not a passionate time for him. He asked, ‘So what, you carry mini meals around with you just in case?’
‘It’s my shopping and I didn’t get home.’
He thought the coffee wasn’t half bad. Could vanilla taste bitter? This did.
Took some toast and said, ‘I never ate sweet toast, like it’s got edge.’
‘Now we make love.’
He stood up, time to take charge.
Went and got her a T-shirt, said, ‘You go and shower, I’ve got to go to work.’
She put on the T-shirt and it reached her knees. On its front were the words:
I am a natural blond
Please talk slowly
It amused him all over again. He gave her a slap on the arse, said, ‘Let’s move it, toots.’
As he headed for work, she said, ‘My name is Concheta.’
For one bizarre moment, he thought she said ‘Cochise’.
He said nothing and she added, ‘Those close to me call me Cheta.’
‘OK.’
‘Please, one time, say it.’
‘What … oh … all right … Cheta.’
‘
He looked at his watch, said, ‘I’m bloody late is what I am.’
That evening, Brant was saying to Roberts, ‘I swear, guv, she stayed the night.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Straight up, guv-and mad for it. Got to go.’
