darling, is lying packed in the boot of my car.â
âIâll tell you something else,â Sydney said, lounging on Heinzâs sofa and drinking her fourth martini.
âWhat?â
Heinz was sitting on his comfy chair sipping a cup of tea.
âI went and saw Jack the other day, right? A private tête à tête, and he came into the café where weâd arranged to meet with the buttons on his coat done up all â¦â Sydney made a higgledy-piggledy movement with her hands, âlike so â¦â
âHeâs missing her?â Heinz interjected, almost sympathetic.
âNo. Not at all. Thatâs my point. Itâs the three button trick.â
âThe what?â
âMen do it. Some men. To make them look â¦â she burped, âvul-ner-a-ble. And this is the best bit â¦â She put her hand over her mouth. âPardon me.â
âThe best bit?â
âYeah. Turns out, he only pulled that trick the very first time he ever spoke to Carrie. 1972. Outside the National Portrait Gallery. Took her in completely. Beguiled her, absolutely. And there he was, large as life, trying it on with me!â
âDid you tell her?â
Sydney knocked back the rest of her drink. âWho?â
âCarrie.â
âNope. Seemed a shame.â
Heinz nodded.
âNice flat,â Sydney said, looking around her.
âIt suits me well enough.â
âCome and sit over here.â Sydney patted the sofa to her left. âCome on.â
Heinz smiled. âI am perfectly comfortable where I am, thank you.â
Sydney stared at him, balefully. âWhatâs wrong?â
Outside the sound of a faint car horn was just audible.
âNothing is wrong,â Heinz said, pushing his great bulk up from his comfy chair and walking over to the window. While his back was turned, Sydney unbuttoned the grey silk shirt she was wearing and took it off. Heinz turned and said, âI think thatâs your cab.â
âHuh?â
âOutside.â
âWhat cab?â
âI called for one a little while back.â
âA cab? Canât I stay here?â
âWhat for?â
Sydney started grinning but only half her mouth worked properly. âSex, stupid.â
Heinz picked up Sydneyâs pale silk shirt from the arm of the sofa and handed it to her. âIâm eighty-three years old,â he said gently, âand entirely impotent.â
âWhatâs wrong?â Carrie asked, for the umpteenth time. âI can tell somethingâs bothering you. I only wish youâd tell me.â
Sydney had still not yet quite recovered. It was Thursday night at the gym.
âNothingâs wrong.â
She hadnât been sleeping. Her elbows were hurting. She couldnât stop thinking â¦
âI only got out of the house tonight because Jackâs at a conference. I swore not to come here any more. He seems to have got the idea into his head that youâre some kind of â¦â Carrie couldnât think of the appropriate word.
Sydney was staring at Carrie with an odd expression. Either Carrie lied, she was thinking, or Heinz lied.
âSo Jack doesnât know about Heinz yet?â
âNo.â
âWell, letâs just hope he doesnât get to find out, either.â
Carrie shook her head. âI spoke to Heinz on the phone. I explained that I didnât want Jack knowing. He was so good about it.â
âKnowing what?â
âKnowing anything.â
Sydney smiled at this, and Carrie, for some reason, had cause, she sensed, to feel a sudden dart of disquiet. In her stomach. In her gut.
âI told you not to ring me!â Carrie exclaimed, terrified at the possibility of discovery.
âIs it safe to talk?â
âJackâs in the bath. Heâs listening to the cricket on the radio.â
âYou know I miss you terribly. You know that, donât
Merry Farmer
May McGoldrick
Paul Dowswell
Lisa Grace
Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Jean Plaidy
Steven Whibley
Brian Freemantle
Kym Grosso
Jane Heller