The Life and Loves of Gringo Greene (27 page)

   Gringo had a crazy idea as to why Eddie hadn’t experienced pain. Because he was so full of love, for women, and for men too, for it was true that the gay community found him hugely attractive, though Gringo never had any reason to suspect he reciprocated in that area. Eddie loved life itself, and everything to do with it. Eddie Wishaw loved life more than anyone Gringo Greene would encounter in his entire life, and in the end, love defeats everything. Eddie Wishaw was a natural born loving man, and would be hugely missed. Thinking of the man, a tear formed in Gringo’s right eye and tumbled down his seven o’clock shadow face.

   The little church down in the dell was crammed from font to doorframe for the funeral service. Most of the mourners were attractive young women; girls Eddie had known right back to kindergarten, sniffling into their freshly ironed and embroidered handkerchiefs. None of them bore any bitterness toward him, and that is a rare thing for a philanderer. They had known of his flighty character, for he was a delicate and beautiful butterfly, destined to rush from bloom to bloom, somehow knowing that its life would be short, that it must drink all the nectar before the frosty nights of winter returned, as if that same nectar could ultimately protect it for all eternity.

   If that were true, Eddie was protected beyond measure.

   Neither was there any rancour between them, the women that is, and that was unusual too. They were simply grateful they had known Eddie Wishaw during his brief but eventful life. His soft southern voice returned to Gringo’s head.

  
Get on and write to her, my son. Turn on the charm. A little bit of C and F will always win the day, and throw in a good dollop of the L word for good measure.

  
Gringo pulled the pad and the pen from the drawer and began writing.

Dear Glen,

Thank you for your kind letter. I didn’t realise I had hurt you so much and I apologise unreservedly for that.

   I am so pleased you are happy together with Harry. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you (no doubt you will keep reminding him!) In the end the only thing that’s important is your happiness.

   Nothing much has changed here. Don’t forget, Glen, the offer’s still open; you can always ring me anytime you like, if you ever want to, that is.

   You look after yourself bonnie lass, and have fun, and be careful. Come what may, you will always remain in my thoughts, always.

All my love,

GG

XX

   He set the pen down and read the letter aloud. He considered whether Eddie would have approved. Nah! He’d say; you need to lay on more of the old C and F, my son; there simply isn’t enough of the charm.

   Gringo considered it was as charming as he could manage. As for flattery, Glen was no fool. She could see through frippery and flannel quicker than any girl he’d ever known. As for using the L word, well he didn’t feel comfortable with that, but then, he never had.

 
Don’t go fucking moping around!

   That was another of Eddie’s prized sayings. Get on with life while you can. Gringo twiddled Ms J Cairncross’s card in his hand. He picked up the phone and dialled 246-1549.

   Three rings and a young woman answered.

   ‘Is this the VAT after hours service?’

   ‘That depends on who is calling.’

   ‘It’s Gringo, I mean, Kevin Greene.’

   ‘Oh yes, I know you.’

   ‘I was just wondering…’

   ‘Wondering what exactly?’

   ‘If you would care to have dinner with me on Sunday?’

   ‘Why?’

   ‘Why?’

   ‘Yes, why?’

   ‘Because I thought it might be a pleasant evening for you, because I’m sure it would be a pleasant evening for me.’

   ‘Are you a flatterer, Mister Greene?’

   Strange that you should use that word, he thought,
a little bit of charm and flattery works wonders.

  
‘I am sure flattery would never work on you, Ms Cairncross.’

   ‘You’re right there.’

   ‘So? Is it a yes or no?’

   ‘On one condition.’

   Another woman with preconditions. Was this a result of the increasingly litigious society in which we live? It seems that no one can answer a simple proposition without tagging on terms and conditions.

   ‘Name it.’

   ‘At no stage do you mention your employer, or their dealings with the VAT office.’

   ‘I can live with that.’

   ‘If you mention anything, even once, I shall walk away.’

   ‘Fair enough.’

   ‘Do you know Sammy’s Bar?’ she said.

   ‘I do.’

   ‘I’ll be there at eight o’clock on Sunday night. If you are not there by five past, I shall leave.’

   ‘I’ll be there.’

   ‘We shall see.’

   The phone went dead as Gringo smiled to himself. He put the phone down and picked it up again and dialled Maria.

   ‘Hello there,’ she said sweetly, happy and surprised to hear his voice.

   ‘You know our date tomorrow.’

   ‘Oh Gringo, you are not cancelling again!’

   ‘No, not cancelling exactly, just re-scheduling.’

   ‘For when?’

   ‘How about tonight?’

   ‘Tonight?’ she said, in a mixture of anticipation and surprise. ‘It’s not like you to want to go out on a Friday.’

   ‘No, well, I thought I might do something different this week for a change, and I’m really in the mood.’

   ‘The mood for what, Mister Greene?’ she said, her smile clear as day, beaming through the telephone.

   ‘For you, of course.’

   ‘Mmm, well I might consider it.’

   ‘Good, get yourself ready. I’ll pick you up at eight.’

He took her to a steak bar on the other side of the city. He’d been there three times before, on each occasion with a different girl. The only thing constant about it was the middle-aged waitress who remembered him well. This guy tipped big, and always gave the girls a good time, and men like that were not ten a penny.

   The waitress wasn’t bad looking either for her age, and there was a brief moment when she imagined the guy gave her a look that told her something, though she wasn’t sure exactly what. You just never know with men, she told her mate later, just for a second it was as if he was saying
It’s your turn next
, and if he asked me, do you know what, I’d jump at the chance.

   Afterwards he took Maria back to her apartment and stayed the whole night. In the morning she made him coffee, threw off her robe, crawled back into bed and cuddled into his lean body.

   ‘What’s got into you, Gringo, what’s the matter?’

   ‘What do you mean?’

   ‘Well, when we were out last night, you were as quiet as a church mouse, I think that waitress got more conversation out of you than I did, but when we were back here, boy oh boy, you couldn’t wait to get started, and after that, you simply wouldn’t leave me alone.’

   ‘You’re not complaining?’

   ‘No, I’d just like to know what brought this on.’

   ‘I told you, I was in the mood.’

   ‘In the
zone
,’ she said, parodying some sports commentator off the TV.

   ‘Yeah, that’s right, in the zone.’

   ‘Sometimes you can be a bit animalistic, and there are other times when I get the impression you forget I am here at all.’

   ‘Don’t be silly.’

   ‘Don’t say to me:
don’t be silly
, I don’t like it.’

   ‘You should chill out more, Maria.’

   ‘Sometimes it’s as if you are thinking of someone else.’

   ‘Don’t be daft.’

   ‘Gringo, don’t keep saying things like that!’

   ‘Who else would there be? I gave you a good time, didn’t I?’

   ‘Well… yes, but…’

   ‘But what?’

   ‘Sometimes a girl needs a little more than a good…’

   ‘Fucking?’

   ‘Gringo! You know what I mean.’

   ‘You mean charm… and flattery… and love, and things like that.’

   ‘Yes. Maybe. Something like that.’

   ‘I’ll try harder in future, I promise.’

   ‘I suppose that’s the best I can expect.’

   ‘You’re right there, and anyway it’s to make up for next weekend.’

   ‘What do you mean by that?’

   ‘Trade conference, I told you.’

   ‘You did not!’

   ‘Yes I did. Sometimes you just don’t listen.’

   ‘What conference?’

   ‘Allied Steel Trades. You know what these things are like, just an excuse for the boys to have a big piss-up.’

   ‘Well, where is it?’

   ‘Torquay.’

   ‘That doesn’t sound a very steely kind of place.’

   ‘That’s the whole point. They choose these freaky coastal towns so they can forget all about bloody work.’

   ‘I might come down and join you.’

   ‘You can’t do that!’

   ‘Why not?’

   ‘Wags are strictly verboten.’

   ‘Just in case you haven’t noticed we now live in an equal society.’

   ‘I know, doll, but this is a strictly boys only weekend. Lots of talk about football and heavy rock and beefed up cars. You wouldn’t enjoy yourself at all. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll really spoil you when I come home.’

   ‘You mean you might write me another sexy letter?’

   That wasn’t what he meant at all, but if it got him off the hook, then so be it, ‘I might,’ he muttered. ‘Now come on, get dressed, I have some shopping to do.’

On Sunday night he arrived at Sammy’s bar at five past eight. Ms Cairncross turned up a minute later.

   ‘You’re here, then?’ she said, checking him out as if to remind herself he looked as she remembered.

   She’d made an effort, Gringo thought, gone was the maroon granny cardy, and in its place a tight white blouse, short sleeved to display an expensive silver wristwatch. Dark grey pencil skirt with a light stripe that fit her like a second skin, emphasising her diminutive waist, not that he would ever have missed that, and all complimented by expensive designer shoes. He’d correctly imagined that shoes might be her weakness, and guessed a goodly portion of her heavy pay cheque was spent in the shoe departments.

   They went through to the lounge bar and he bought drinks, zero alcohol beer for him; red wine for her. He’d booked a table and knew they would call them over the tannoy when it was ready, and anyway, he was in no hurry to eat. She sat opposite at a small table and waited for his opening gambit.

   ‘We mustn’t mention the war,’ he said, sipping the drink.

   ‘That’s right, Kevin, not the once.’

   ‘Please call me Gringo.’

   ‘If I must.’

   ‘So,’ he said. ‘Tell me all about yourself, come on. Married? Single? Lovers? Children? Lesbian tendencies? Age? Family? Ambitions? Star sign? I am all ears.’

   ‘Yes, they are rather large,’ she said, smirking, glancing at the side of his head.

   ‘Yes, okay,’ said Gringo, grinning too, and touching his ears, protuberances that he’d never once considered to be Linekeresque.

   ‘As for the other things you mentioned, I’m not married as I suspect you know. I doubt if you would have asked me out if you thought I was.’

   He would have.

   ‘I don’t have a lover at present, though why I should tell you such secret information, I have no idea, children, no thank you, lesbian tendencies, no, not that I know of, though I like to keep an open mind in all things, so you just never know what lies in the future, age, none of your damned business, family, my mother is long dead, my father lives with his German whore on the Costa del Sol, while my brother works on the rigs out of Aberdeen. I haven’t seen him for at least five years, no sisters so I don’t know whether that is a good thing or bad, ambitions, well yes please, lots of them, ambition has been the one driving force in my life, the one guiding star, if you will, and as for a star sign, I don’t have one.’

   ‘You mean you don’t know it.’

   Gringo glanced across the table. She’d washed her hair again, that tell tale wispiness was back, just as it was on Thursday.

   ‘No, I mean I don’t have one.’