Dirty Minds (24 page)

Tom checked his watch: four o’clock. The text message from Aisha had arrived just before midnight. It said that a specialist, a Mr Khan, would be there within a few hours. They had all decided to stay.

Ros and Melissa were dozing, but Janet was looking a lot brighter. Now that Alfonso was getting professional care, she had managed to calm down. Talking to Tom helped as well.

‘Do you know how old I am, Tom?’

He didn’t. He took a guess, lopped five years off to be on the safe side, and hazarded, ‘Forty?’

‘Thanks, Tom.’ Even through her distraught state, she managed a weak smile. ‘I’m fifty-two.’ She ignored his protestations. ‘I was married once, a good few years ago, but it didn’t work out. Since then I haven’t bothered with dating. And now this? Can you imagine what a shock to the system it has been for me to meet and fall in love with a man, all in the space of little more than twenty-four hours? And at my age?’

Tom, still nursing the warm glow of his own requited love, nodded knowingly as she went on.

‘I can’t begin to tell you how I’ve been feeling. I am frankly amazed that I managed to make any sense at all during our meetings this weekend. This unexpected and amazing thing has consumed my whole being. Me, fifty-two year old Janet Parr, in love.’

‘And with Europe’s most eligible bachelor.’ He cast a thought to poor old Alfonso, as he had last seen him.

‘I couldn’t care less about that stuff.’ She glanced up at Tom and met his eye. ‘I really mean that. I’m too old for all the glitz of celebrity. I’ve got a good business and a few quid stashed away. I’m not interested in the money. It’s the fact that it’s happened.’

‘And that it happened to him in exactly the same way.’ Tom decided that, under the circumstances, he could be excused for betraying a confidence. ‘I had a long session with him last night, I mean Friday night. He told me almost exactly the same thing. You have blown him out of the water. It’s the most fantastic piece of synchronicity.’

She sat up, wiped her eyes and looked around. The waiting room had almost emptied again. The really noisy group had gone home with their bandaged friend. A pair of lonely-looking girls sat in a corner, waiting for news of a third girl, who had arrived with them, her face covered in blood. Janet turned back to Tom and caught his hand. ‘And then, this. It’s as if there were some malignant force at work.’

Tom sat up in his turn. ‘You don’t happen to know the Greek word for that, do you?’

She looked puzzled. ‘Greek?’

He was spared having to explain by a sudden flurry of activity. The doors to the restricted area opened and a very tall man in a dinner jacket appeared. Beside him was a nurse. She pointed towards Tom and Janet. He came over.

‘Good morning. I am Monty Khan. Who should I be talking to?’ He pulled up a chair and sat down. Even so, he still towered above Janet.

Tom indicated her with his hand. ‘This is Janet Parr. She is Alfonso’s fiancée.’

He bowed towards her. ‘Many congratulations. I was only saying to Alfonso a month or two back, that he needed the love of a good woman.’

‘We’re not engaged. Tom is just exaggerating. But we are very close. Have you come to treat him? Have you seen him?’

‘Yes and yes, Janet. I come with good news. I have just finished examining him. The guys here have done a very good job. I also understand that one or two of your friends saved his life in the first place.’ Janet nodded towards Tom but did not interrupt the flow. ‘He’s got a seriously blocked coronary artery. I’m going to operate just as soon as we can get a theatre up and running.’ Catching her eye, he explained. ‘It’s not a major operation. It’s called an angioplasty. We make a small incision in the groin and then feed a catheter up his artery to the heart. When we get to the blockage, we inflate a little balloon and then slip in a steel mesh support to keep the artery open. It’s a very common procedure, nothing scary.’

By this time, Ros and Melissa had woken up and were following his every word.

‘After the op. we’ll keep him in for a few days, just as a precaution. But after that, I see no reason why he won’t be able to resume his life as normal in a very short space of time.’

Janet was too overcome to speak.

Ros grabbed Tom’s arm in excitement and relief. ‘Oh that’s wonderful news.’

Seeing her for the first time, the big man held out his hand. ‘Rosalind, isn’t it? I knew I’d seen you before. I met you in Milan last year. My wife was working on the Camaleonte collection.’

Through her exhaustion, the memory came back. ‘Of course, you’re Mina’s husband. I haven’t seen her for a bit. Is she still modelling?’

‘Only maternity wear at the moment.’ He looked very proud. ‘The baby’s due in three months. Anyway, I must go and scrub up.’ He turned back to Janet. ‘So don’t worry any more. He’ll be fine. I would think that you’ll be able to talk to him as early as lunchtime.’

She took his hand in both of hers. ‘Thank you so very much.’

‘Thank the guys who learnt to do CPR and the folk here. I’ve just come to apply the finishing touches. I suggest you all go home and get some rest. I imagine you could do with it.’

‘What about you?’ Tom nodded at the dinner jacket. ‘You must have been up all night.’

‘It’s not as bad as it looks. I got a couple of hours sleep on the plane.’ He turned to Ros. ‘I was at a do in Seville. Aisha sent a Learjet for me. You know what she’s like.’ He stood up, brushed off their thanks, and left.

Janet wept all the way home. But this time they were tears of joy.

They arrived back at the hotel just before five. Janet and Melissa went straight up to bed. Tom stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Ros glanced across at him.

‘I promised Mr Jeffers I would let him know the news as soon as we got back. You go on. I’ll come in for a goodnight kiss.’

Ros gave him a weary smile. ‘That’s the least a girl could hope for.’

Tom walked through the quiet corridors behind the kitchen until he came to the maître d’hôtel’s apartment. A card by the bell simply read A. JEFFERS. He rang it and waited, wondering idly if the A. stood for Aristotle. In a matter of seconds the door opened. Mr Jeffers was clad in a heavy dressing gown.

‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Good morning, Mr Jeffers. Sorry to bother you, but you did ask.’

‘You haven’t disturbed me. To be honest, sir, I wasn’t sleeping. My thoughts have been with Signor Alfonso.’

‘Well, the news is good.’ Tom went on to relate everything the specialist had said. It turned out Mr Jeffers knew all about angioplasty.

‘I was the recipient of a stent myself a few years back.’ Seeing the expression on Tom’s face, he explained. ‘That’s what they call the wire mesh insert, that opens the artery. Modern medicine is truly amazing, is it not?’

‘It certainly is. Now, I am going to snatch a few hours sleep. Would you be so kind as to relay these glad tidings to your staff and to my colleagues when they surface? And tell them, please, that I will do my best to join them before mid-morning.’

‘Of course, sir. Leave it to me.’

Tom retraced his footsteps and climbed the stairs to the first floor. He let himself into his room. He felt exhausted. Thought of Ros in the next room, however, sent him into the bathroom to clean his teeth and take a shower. He dried himself off and slipped on a bathrobe, excitement making a knot in his stomach. He turned out the lights in his room and pushed the secret door. It swung open.

Inside, the only light was coming from a crack in the bathroom door. He waited until his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. He couldn’t hear any noises from the bathroom, so he walked into the centre of the room. Ros was lying on her bed, still fully clothed. She hadn’t even taken her coat off. She was fast asleep.

He perched on the edge of the bed beside her. She didn’t stir. He sat looking at her, a happy smile on his face. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed deeply. In repose, her façade of self-confidence was replaced by a touching, childlike vulnerability.

His thoughts swept back over the misery of the last years to the happiness he and Diane had enjoyed before the cancer. Only a few weeks ago, it had seemed impossible that he would ever achieve that sort of happiness again. And now, here she was, his happiness, his salvation. His emotions, battered by the events of the last few hours, overflowed. His eyes filled with tears, and he found himself fighting hard to avoid breaking down, yet again. But, to his delight, this time he managed to control himself. Instead of the usual wave of grief, he felt a surge of joy. Rubbing his hand across his eyes, he breathed in deeply. The smile returned to his face. He bent forward and brushed his lips across her cheek. Then, taking care not to wake her, he tiptoed over to the other bed and pulled off the duvet. Very gently, he laid it over her. She didn’t move.

He made his way back to the secret door and withdrew. He was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

He arrived in conference room A at half past ten, a cup of coffee in one hand, a slice of toast in the other. To his surprise, everybody was there, including Ros, and even Melissa. Ros gave him a little smile, the others a more raucous welcome.

‘Trust the boss to be late.’

‘What time do you call this?’

‘Gentleman’s hours, eh?’

He took his place at the head of the table and asked how far they had got.

Tiffany brought him up to date. ‘Melissa has given a brilliant résumé of what was going on in the world in the 1920s. We now know all about the Beautiful Young Things, flappers and prohibition. She’s also given us a list of prime ministers’ names. We know about the financial chaos that led to the Wall Street Crash. Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Mary Pickford were all the rage. I’ve even got the winners of the Derby written down somewhere.’

Tom looked across at Melissa. ‘Thanks Melissa, that was terrific.’

She smiled. ‘My pleasure. Oh yes, I’ve just remembered something else. Jan asked me to check on when homosexuality and lesbianism were legalised in the UK.’

Tom nodded, interested to hear the dates.

‘I’ve only got the data for England. I think it was a fair bit later before homosexuals in Scotland and Ireland got the same rights.’ She checked her notes. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t until 1967 that homosexuality in private between only two consenting adult males was legalised. The age of consent for them was 21. That was only reduced to parity with the normal heterosexual age of consent of 16 as recently as 2001.’

‘Great, thanks for that, Melissa.’ Tom noted the dates on his pad.

‘And lesbians?’ Suzy was interested. ‘The same?’

‘Now that’s a weird thing. Did you know? Lesbianism has never been illegal. It seems never to have been deemed a crime.’

‘Quite right too.’ Jimmy raised a few laughs.

Tiffany finished bringing Tom up to date. ‘And just before you came in, Ros gave us a breakdown of women’s fashions at that time.’

‘Including some wicked underwear.’ Jimmy seemed to be sitting very close to Suzy. She didn’t look as if she objected. He was looking remarkably cheerful.

‘1920s underwear, I know it well.’ Tom affected an air of erudition. ‘Ah, the Slimmington Side Lacer as I recall.’ He enjoyed the amazement on most of the faces around him.

‘Good try, boss.’ Ros gave him a big smile. ‘It was the Symington Side Lacer. You were close.’

‘Excellent. Right, let’s move on. Time isn’t on our side today. Yesterday, we all had the task of writing a very short summary of the plot. We want to keep it simple, but, at the same time, we are looking for a story. We need something that will keep the reader turning the pages, not just a disconnected series of sex scenes. I’ve got my suggestion here. Everybody got one? OK, let’s go round the table. Tiffany, you’re up.’

She pulled out a handwritten sheet. ‘Lady Margaret has had enough of Sir Simon’s bullying. She poisons him. Wing Commander Jefferson-Forbes sees her do it, and blackmails her in return for sex. Mrs Forbes-Henderson is a distant relation, who stands to inherit if Lady Margaret pops off. She uses her nymphomaniac twins to convince the Honourable Evelyn Parry to do her in. Evelyn’s brother is jealous of his success with the two girls so, with the assistance of the American oil billionaire, he arranges for compromising photos to be taken. I’m sorry, that’s as far as I got before I got distracted.’ She dropped her eyes and blushed.

‘Fine, OK, that’s a start. Any comments anybody?’

‘Is it maybe a bit too Agatha Christie?’ Janet wasn’t convinced.

‘We’re not really meant to be writing a whodunit.’ Ros agreed.

Jimmy suddenly burst out laughing. ‘Surely ours is more of a whodunwho?’

Tom let the giggles subside. ‘OK. Next one please. That’s you, Suzy.’

‘Madeleine, the rich American’s wife, has sex with Evelyn’s brother, Silas. One of the twins sees them and joins in. Her moans attract her sister, who also joins in. Then Evelyn comes in and they shag him, too. The one-armed Wing Commander is walking past and watches. Lady Margaret comes round the corner and catches him masturbating. She leads him into the room with the others and they all join in. In the next room, old Sir Simon is shagging the two chambermaids. They hear the commotion from next door, walk in and get roped in. Um, that’s about it. I was running out of characters.’

‘And space on the bed, I would imagine.’ Tom looked around the table. ‘So what do we think about Suzy’s gang bang?’

‘Lots of action, but you couldn’t really say there was a strong storyline.’ Tiffany was unconvinced.

‘No shortage of sex, but maybe a bit improbable that the old lady would join in with the youngsters?’ Jimmy had misgivings too.

‘Old can be attracted to young.’ Penny felt she had to chime in.

Tiffany grinned at her. ‘A fifty year differential is a bit different from seven, Penny.’

There were hoots of laughter round the table. Penny blushed. Tom thought it best to move on. One by one, they threw out ideas. By the time it came round to him, a lot of different scenarios had been put forward, none very convincing.

‘Come on, Tom. Your turn now.’

He picked up his notes. ‘Right, here goes. I actually wrote it in the hospital last night, so apologies in advance. What I’ve done is to edit the list of characters down a bit. I don’t think we need to have so many different individuals involved. I have opted for fewer participants, but more mixing and matching, as was suggested yesterday.’ He was gratified to see a few nods of approval. ‘Right.’

Before he could start, there was a knock at the door.

Mr Jeffers came in, holding a telephone. ‘I apologise for the intrusion, but I do believe Miss Janet will want to take this call.’ He allowed himself just the hint of a smile as he held the receiver out to her.

‘Yes, hello. Hello, Alfonso! You’re awake … yes, and alive. You worried us all to death … No, don’t say any more now. You rest and I’ll come in this afternoon. Oh I’m so pleased, so very, very pleased … What’s that? Of course I will. I’ll do it now. Love from everybody here … And you. Bye.’ She put the phone down, tears of joy sparkling in the corners of her eyes. Then she stood up and marched around the table until she came to Jimmy. She reached out with both hands, grabbed his face, leant forward and kissed him first on the left cheek and then on the right. ‘The first was from Alfonso. He says he owes you his life and he thanks you. The other one was from me. Thank you, Jimmy. You saved the life of the man I love.’ She dissolved into tears. Jimmy joined her.

It was a while before everyone settled down. When they did, they hadn’t forgotten Tom was still to read them his piece.

‘Right, here we go. It is the Saturday night gala dinner. A five-piece band is playing blues numbers. One of the Forbes-Henderson twins receives a note saying “Meet me in the Balmoral suite after midnight. I love you.” She is delighted. She screws the note up and discards it. It is found by Madeleine, the American oil tycoon’s wife, who thinks it is for her. She reads it and drops it on the floor. Silas Parry drops his napkin. He takes advantage of a spell under the table to separate the other Forbes-Henderson twin from her underwear. He also finds the note. For a bit of a laugh, he slips it under his brother’s glass. As he leaves the table, he gives a few quid to Molly and Iris, the maids. He suggests that they turn up at room 24 after midnight ready for some fun. He races up to room 24 and unscrews the light bulb. The only light comes from a dim table lamp. Midnight comes. They all turn up and get naked. People do all kinds of stuff to each other. End of story.’

He looked round the room. Their faces said it all.

‘It’s not great, is it? To be honest, none of our plots appeal to me. Anybody think differently?’

No response. He looked at his watch. It was well past eleven o’clock.

‘Look, let’s stop for a quick cup of coffee. We meet back here in fifteen minutes. I think we are barking up the wrong tree. We need different, more credible characters, and a reason for them to be here. And we need them in a hurry. We are fast running out of time. Put your thinking hats on while you have coffee.’

After all the other authors had left the conference room, Ros went to Tom, put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

‘Good morning, did you sleep well?’

He nodded. ‘I don’t need to ask if you slept well. You went out like a light.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I wasn’t at my most receptive last night.’

He hugged her.

‘Sorry? For God’s sake, Ros, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I was exhausted myself. You did look sweet, though.’

‘And I thank you for ensuring I didn’t catch cold. I looked in on you this morning, but you were still fast asleep. I came down and told the girls I had exhausted you sexually.’

‘Did they believe you?’

‘Strangely, no. I still can’t think of that Greek word, you know.’

‘We’ll beat that malignant deity yet!’

He took her arm and they walked through to the morning room. They poured themselves cups of tea and went over to the others.

‘So, how was the gala dinner?’ Ros enquired.

‘Brilliant.’ Luca had joined them, but there was still no sign of Scottie. ‘I would have put on a couple of kilos this weekend, if my wife’s sexual appetite wasn’t even greater.’

‘Luca, behave yourself.’

‘That’s not what you were saying last night.’ She had the decency to blush. ‘What about you guys at the hospital? A plastic sandwich and a cup of lukewarm tea?’

‘Anything but. We had a feast.’ Ros spotted Mr Jeffers hovering in the background. ‘Mr Jeffers! Thank you so much for the picnic last night. It was most welcome and really, really good. And please thank the chef. He is magnificent.’

‘Thank you, Miss Rosalind. I am delighted you liked it. I will pass on your message to the chef.’

Tom sat down beside Janet. Melissa had gone upstairs for another little rest.

‘So, you feeling good? How did Alfonso sound?’

‘He sounded remarkably well for somebody who died last night. Tom, lean over so I can kiss you, will you? I’m too tired to get up.’ He did as requested. ‘Good. That’s from Alfonso and from me. You and Jimmy were magnificent. If I was ten years younger, I’d promise to call my first child James and my second one Thomas.’ She was smiling.

‘And if it was a girl?’ He knew the answer before she said it.

‘Ariadne, of course, Jimmy’s alter ego.’

Across the room Ros sat down between Tiffany and Penny. Opposite them, Suzy and Jimmy were canoodling.

Penny caught Ros’s eye. ‘You heard it from me first.’

‘You know, it’s uncanny, isn’t it? I fully expect to see Mr Jeffers and the pretty little dark-haired waitress start groping each other any minute. This book has had remarkable repercussions. It really has.’

‘Like Tiff said last night, it’s the power of the written word.’

‘The written word…’ Ros suddenly realised the solution to their problem was staring them in the face. She whipped round, her tone cutting through the other conversations. ‘I’ve got it. The plot, it’s been right under our noses all the time.’

They crowded round. Even Suzy and Jimmy stopped doing what they were doing.

‘The plot. There’s no need for any of the complicated stuff we’ve been discussing this morning. The answer’s so obvious, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.’

She allowed herself a dramatic pause, during which the others racked their brains.

‘It’s us, don’t you see. What we need is a party of folk who come together in this house in the 1920s to write an erotic novel. The story is the way this affects their lives. What we need is a bunch of characters like us, but with different identities. We then go off and write our ten, twenty thousand words, or whatever, about us. We have all got erotic stories to tell. Nothing could be easier to relate to, and to write.’

There was a general murmur of agreement.

‘There’s another great attraction to your idea, Ros.’ Tom was thinking it through, liking it more and more. ‘The sort of erotic novel they would have written in those days, would be much less hard-core than today’s version. I don’t know about you, but I think I will find that a lot easier to write.’

‘What do you think, darling?’ Tiffany put the question to her husband.

‘We’ve had a lot of fun so far, Tiff. Writing about it might mean even more fun ahead.’

The others all agreed enthusiastically.

Tom led them back into the conference room. In the space of fifteen minutes they managed to sketch it all out. Alfonso became a newspaper baron, Tom, a former army officer trying to rebuild his life after the horrors of trench warfare. Jimmy was an American aviator, Suzy, a music hall girl. Janet was pretty much what she was in reality: a successful businesswoman. Penny was a scientist accompanied by a young doctor. Ros was a film star from the silent screen. Tiffany was married to a Russian Count, and they had three kids.

The plot revolved around the effects of the writing project on the various individuals and couples. True love blossomed for them all. The Count and Countess revitalised their marriage. The aviator and the music hall girl paired up, and the newspaper baron fell deeply in love with the businesswoman. The lonely scientist found an ideal partner in the young doctor and the former army officer managed to banish his nightmares with the love of a good woman, Ros the film star.

By lunchtime they had everything except the title of the book. They pondered this through the meal. At the end, Tom stood up.

‘My dear friends and colleagues. If we have achieved nothing more over this weekend, we can consider ourselves privileged to have made friends with so many other interesting people.’

There were shouts of ‘hear, hear’. Tiffany blasted out a few more of her shrill whistles.

‘We leave here this afternoon with a clear idea of what we need to do, and the will to do it. The title will come clear as the book progresses, I am sure. Love has blossomed here.’ He looked around the room. Jimmy and Suzy were holding hands, as were Penny and Scott. Luca had his arm around Tiffany. Janet and Melissa were smiling. His eyes came to rest on Ros and his heart leapt. ‘All we have to do now is to write about it. Thank you for making this a memorable weekend. Let us hope our project turns out to be a great success. Thank you all for your enthusiasm.’