The Life and Loves of Gringo Greene (36 page)

  
A slight sting,
thought Gringo, it sounded to him like typical medical profession understatement.

   ‘Not yet. What happens afterwards?’

   ‘
Some patients may feel a little light-headed when they first stand up. You will be given juice to drink and as I said before, if you are very lucky, a chocolate biscuit. This aids replacing fluids and increases your blood sugar levels. You will also be told to drink plenty of liquids to replace lost fluids and to avoid strenuous activity for the remainder of the day.’

  
Strenuous activity, mmm.

   ‘You may feel a trifle sore around the area where the needle was inserted, that is quite normal, and there is a very slight chance of infection in the area if it wasn't well cleaned before the needle was inserted. Your blood volume will return to normal within hours afterwards, providing you follow the guidelines for drinking liquids. May I sign you up now, Mister Greene?’ and for the first time he detected a slight note of frustration in her voice.

   ‘I don’t like the sound of that much.’

   ‘Of what?’ she said, nearing the end of her patience.

   ‘The infection bit.’

   ‘I wouldn’t worry about that. Long odds against.’

   ‘You hear such strange stories.’

   ‘Princess Alexandra’s consistently tops the league tables.’

   ‘Will you be there to look after me?’

   What was it about big strong men that they needed to be
looked after
, as if they were constantly on the look out for some kind of surrogate mother?

   ‘If I looked after you personally can I then sign you up?’

   ‘Yes,’ he said, though he could hardly believe he had.

   ‘Fine!’ she said, completing her form. ‘Four o’ clock on Thursday, your employer has already agreed to the early finish. I’ll see you there,’ and she gave him a card with the details, ‘and one other thing, Mister Greene.’

   ‘Yes, Nurse Drayton,’ he said, reading her ID badge.

   ‘Don’t chicken out, and it’s Staff Nurse Drayton to be exact.’

   Gringo smiled at her little rebuke.

   ‘I’ll be there,
Staff Nurse Drayton.
’

   ‘We shall see.’

   ‘Is this normal, this hard selling exercise, to come round offices touting for business?’

   ‘We are very short of blood, Mister Greene, what else can we do? We have a big push on to try and replenish stocks, unfortunately not enough citizens are aware of their responsibilities, it’s a case of needs must, we wouldn’t normally come round in full uniform, but stats prove that wearing uniforms always produces far better results.’

   Gringo could believe that.

   ‘I can usually talk guys into signing up.’

   He could believe that too.

   ‘That’s about everything,’ she said, standing and smoothing down her smart uniform, before heading out, leaving one last comment behind her. ‘Don’t forget.’

That night on the way home Gringo bought a whole cooked chicken from his local Co-op store, and a fresh crusty loaf, and sat at the kitchen table and pulled the unfortunate creature to pieces, eating far more of it than he should have done. Afterwards, he belched loudly and washed his hands and when he’d finished the phone rang.

   ‘Nineteen sixty-six!’

   ‘Thank you for that,’ said Sarah softly. ‘Do you have to yell so?’

   ‘Sorry. What news from afar?’

   ‘Well, you were right, Gringo.’

   ‘There was never any doubt in my mind.’

   ‘I am really surprised, I have to say.’

   ‘So what did Ronnie say, exactly?’

   ‘His company has won a huge contract to build a grain storage facility in the Gulf. It’s guaranteed work on a great rate of pay for four years. He’s bought a brand new house right on the beach on the back of it, it looks fabulous, I wish you could see it, and to top it all, he’s proposed marriage, and asked me to move out there.’

   ‘Lucky you, Sarah, two proposals in one week.’

   ‘Ah yes, but yours wasn’t a genuine one.’

   ‘Of course it was! Do you think I go round asking women to marry me left right and centre?’

   ‘You only said it on the spur of the moment, Gringo. Let’s not pretend otherwise.’

   ‘If you had said
yes
, I would have married you, Sarah, that’s a serious offer in my book.’

   Yet as he spoke the words he wondered the truth of it.

   ‘It would never have worked, Gringo. You know that, as well as I do. We’ve been through all this before.’

   ‘I don’t see why not.’

   ‘I’ve already told you why not.’

   ‘So you’ve said yes… to this Ronnie geezer?’

   ‘Of course I have. A girl needs some security; some guarantees for the future, some companionship in later life, and Ronnie offers me all of those things.’

   ‘So when are you going?’

   ‘I’m trying to tie everything up for next week.’

   ‘Next week! You don’t let the grass grow.’

   ‘I don’t think I told you I had an offer from a property developer for my building. I wasn’t even going to look at it before, and it isn’t a great offer, but it will enable me to settle all my debts, and still have a little nest egg left over. I accepted their offer this afternoon. The hardest part was telling the men. They all looked mortified, as if I had murdered their mothers.’

   ‘That’s life, kid. Don’t worry about it. Sometimes on the rocky road of business you have to look out for number one. That’s all you did.’

   ‘Thanks for saying that, Gringo. That’s how I thought about it. If they had received a better job offer from someone up the road, do you think they would have stuck by me? Of course they wouldn’t, so all’s fair in business, so it seems.’

   ‘Listen, why don’t you come over this evening for one last tryst? I could make a big fuss of you, four hours of concentrated personal attention; give you something to remember me by.’

   ‘It’s a tempting offer, Gringo, but I can’t.’

   ‘Why not?’

   ‘It wouldn’t be right.’

   ‘Go on, live dangerously, you know you want to. We could imagine we’d first met like we did at the Hamilton Hotel; I could take you upstairs… just like the first time. Remember?’

   There was the briefest of silences and Gringo guessed she was mulling it over. He thought she was weakening and tried again.

   ‘Come along, lover, one last time for old time’s sake.’

   ‘No Gringo! I can’t! It wouldn’t be right! It wouldn’t be fair on Ronnie. Sorry Gringo, but I just can’t! You look after yourself, and find yourself a decent young woman. I’ll send you a card. Bye!’

   He was left staring at the dead phone. She hadn’t even stayed on the line long enough to enable him to wish her well and say his goodbyes. Ah well, one train leaves the station, but three more are pulling in. Life always has its little compensations. Glenda was due to ring later. On Thursday he had his bloody date with the promising Staff Nurse Drayton, and on Friday he would take another crack at melting the heart of Ms Cairncross. Life wasn’t so bad. Life was what you made of it.

   Not for the first time, Maria didn’t rate a thought.

Gringo cleaned up the kitchen and settled down in front of the TV, something he tried hard not to do, but it was still the same old drivel. Quiz shows bad enough to make you want to puke, reality TV that was totally divorced from reality, cartoons to entertain adults, which in his eyes was a contradiction in terms, motoring programmes that had precious little to do with high street motoring, American situation comedies with canned laughter and no laughs, compilations of the hundred greatest this or that, that everyone had seen a million times before, rolling news, rolling rolling rolling, a volcano had farted in the Andes and had upset the local mule population, a wild life film where every creature was desperate to devour live and whole, everything else, and ten dreadful channels offering to flog you junk you never needed. What kind of doped up apes watched this nonsense? That was probably being unkind to the apes.

   The phone rang at half past ten and that came as something of light relief. Formalities duly over and in the next second he could hear Glen as clear as if she were speaking from the local pay phone.

   ‘Gringo?’

   ‘That’s me.’

   ‘What you said last night… did you mean it?’

   ‘Course I did. Every word.’

   ‘And I’d have my own room?’

   ‘Yeah.’

   ‘And you won’t tell anyone?’

   ‘My lips are sealed. I’ve never been a kiss and tell merchant.’

   ‘I know that, Gringo. And we would just be sharing, like friends?’

   ‘Yes! If that’s what you want.’

   ‘It is Gringo. It is.’

   ‘Well, that’s how it will be.’

   ‘In that case, Gringo, I’d like to accept. I’d love to come home.’

   He adored that, even if she hadn’t meant it as he took it, describing coming to live with him as
home.

   ‘Great. When?’

   ‘Sunday night.’

   ‘That quick? Jeez, that’s sooner than I thought.’

   ‘Is that a problem, is it inconvenient? Do you have someone there?’

   ‘No, no, not at all, I can do Sunday night.’

   ‘The plane arrives at Heathrow at midnight, your time. Terminal 5, British Airways. You will be there to meet me, won’t you, Gringo?’

   ‘Of course I will. I said so, didn’t I?’

   ‘It’s just that if you’re not there, I’ll have nowhere to go. I’m skint, you see, all spent up.’

   ‘I’ll be there, Heathrow, Sunday at midnight.’

   ‘That’s right. Thanks; you’re a real friend, look forward to seeing you, I’ll tell you all my news then, I have to go now, bye-eee.’

   For the second time that night he was left staring at a dead telephone. Why had she hung up so abruptly? Heathrow, Terminal 5, Sunday at midnight, he pondered, and then he remembered the state of the front bedroom. He stood up and sprinted to the top of the house and threw open the door. Everything he saw he hated.

   The bedside lights, the duvet cover, the pillow cases, the pictures on the walls, the rug at the end of the bed, everything now seemed dreadful. It would have to go, the whole lot of it. He wasn’t even that fussed with the bedside tables and the wardrobe, but she would have to put up with those. The next day was Saturday and he’d head for the out of town shopping park and pick up loads of goodies. He might even buy some paint.

On Sunday night he left early for the airport. This was one appointment he did not want to foul up. The spare bedroom was now suitably refreshed and during the drive he went over it in his mind. It had cost him a small fortune, he’d lost touch with how much quality items really cost. True, he could have done it to a similar standard with cheaper things, but if he could tell the difference then he imagined that Glen would too.

   It was eleven o’clock when he arrived, though it didn’t seem to make any difference what time of day or night one came to these places, everywhere was mad busy. He parked the car and found the right place. Armed police were everywhere, security never sleeps, and travelling was supposed to be fun. He accosted a pretty girl decked out in the airline’s uniform, and she pointed him toward the information desks where he scanned the arrivals’ monitors. The plane was running on time according to the yellow figures, less than an hour to go. He bought a coffee and a fat Sunday newspaper and found a seat, and though he read the words his brain refused to assimilate the information. He set the newspaper down and five minutes later someone asked him if they could borrow it.

   ‘Keep it, mate,’ said Gringo, finishing the coffee and already back on his feet. He tossed the cup into a bin and began pacing up and down, as he listened out for announcements that seemed to refer to flights from every known point on the planet, except hers.

   Sometimes in life time really does stand still. Waiting for a loved one at an airport is one of them. Every time he glanced at his watch or the array of time tellers scattered about the building, they seemed to have barely changed. Perhaps they were all lying, playing a cruel joke on all those confused and excited people dallying there. 

   Come along!

   It seemed hours later when finally there was movement and action at the appropriate gate. People waiting were suddenly paying closer attention. Shorter people stood on tiptoe. The waiting crowds had grown thicker. Gringo hadn’t noticed those people gathering there, they just seemed to materialise out of nowhere. He moved closer too. Word went round the plane had landed. People were beginning to wander from the time tunnel before them, some in a daze; others bright and excited with that expectant look fixed on their faces, a picture you only ever see at airports and railways stations.

   Then he saw her.

   He spotted her immediately, long before she saw him.
She moved with a gentle swaying movement, her tall slender figure covering the floor with minimal movement of her legs, so it seemed.
No one on earth adored the colour black more than Glenda Martin, with the possible exception of Gringo himself. She was wearing a lightweight black suit, what else? Skirt and jacket, very businesslike, and quite unlike most of her companions, many of whom appeared as if they were returning from an energetic jog along Brighton promenade, sweaty and exhausted.

   Gringo thought she looked serene. Perhaps dressed like that she’d been hoping for an upgrade. Her white face was framed by black bob-cut hair, newly American styled, hellishly cute he thought, even at this distance, while her emerald eyes were shielded from the garish lights by newly acquired designer wrap around sunglasses. Probably helped her sleep on the plane.

   Then she spotted him. Her face broke into a smile and she pointed to the end of the barrier. In the next moment she was through and free, tugging her bags behind her, coming toward him, as he hurried for her. He leapt forward and wrapped his arms round her slim body and squeezed her as if he’d never squeezed anyone before. If she was taken aback by the greeting she didn’t show it, too busy was she returning the embrace. No kisses, just a mammoth two way hug.

   ‘Welcome home, bonnie lass,’ he whispered.

   ‘It’s good to be home, Gringo.’

   He hugged her again for good measure, and then set her down.

   ‘What’s with the glasses?’

   ‘Do you like them?’

   ‘I’d rather see your eyes.’

   She slipped the sun specs from her face and somehow her eyes widened, but it wasn’t her eyes he was now seeing. There was a cut on her left eyebrow like something sustained in a middleweight title fight. The surrounds of her eyes were black and blue and the whites of both were bloodshot.

   ‘What the fuck’s going on here?’ he snapped, grabbing her chin between finger and thumb and turning it for closer inspection.

   ‘Careful, Gringo! Gently! It’s nothing. I bumped into a door.’

   ‘Bumped into a door, my backside!’

   ‘Don’t make such a fuss, Gringo,’ and already other people standing close by were paying attention to the heated words emanating from the two black heads, and most especially from the bloke.

   ‘Did he hit you?’

   ‘No-ooo. Course not. I told you. I bumped into a door. Don’t make such a fuss, not here, not now, just leave it.’

   ‘I’ll kill the bastard; I’ll kill him!’

   That was too much for Glen.

   ‘Why do you always have to embarrass me?’ and with that she turned and set off at a pace toward the exit, Gringo running and cursing behind. It wasn’t until they were sitting together in the car that he finally calmed down.

   ‘Well,’ she said, softly. ‘Have you missed me?’

   ‘Not at all,’ he said, struggling to keep a straight face.

   They both knew he was lying through his teeth.

   ‘Have you missed me?’

   ‘Not in a million years,’ she replied suitably, and already the fire was back in those incomparable green eyes.

   He leant over and tried to kiss her.

   Glen turned away.

   ‘No, Gringo, friends remember, just friends.’

   ‘Oh yeah,’ he said, ‘I forgot,’ and he snapped on his seatbelt, unable to fully hide his disappointment, started the car, and set off for home, his home.

They talked all the way back about everything and nothing at all. Talking was something that came easy to both of them regardless of who they were with, but when they were together it produced a combustible mixture of conversation that tumbled out non-stop. Occasionally they would both be talking at once, yet still they would be listening to the other, as if every moment was too precious to waste. It made the journey pass quickly, and in seemingly no time at all he was pulling into the pitch dark close.

   Once inside she didn’t want anything to eat, she joked she had her figure to think of; when in reality she’d feasted on the improving airline grub. He showed her the room and she said: ‘Lovely Gringo, but I always knew it would be; I’ve always liked your house.’

   He was chuffed she approved. All his frantic shopping had proved worthwhile, and though the following morning he needed to be up early, he would happily have sat up and chatted with her till dawn, but when Glen yawned twice, the message registered, and they went upstairs and washed and prepared for bed.

   Way into the small hours he still hadn’t fallen asleep. How could he, with her in the house? Neither his mind nor body would shut down. Should he go to her? Wasn’t it to be expected? But she had been so insistent he leave her alone. His mind was racing, he thought of getting up and taking a shower, of setting out his things for the morning, of going out for a good run, and as he was thinking of that, a tap came to his bedroom door.

   ‘Gringo, are you awake?’

   ‘Yes, what is it?’

   ‘I can’t sleep; jetlag I think.’

   ‘You’d better come in here,’ he said, sitting up and reaching for the lamp.

   ‘Don’t turn the light on!’ she said, and in the way she spoke he knew she was naked.

   ‘Come round by the window,’ he whispered, ’this side, get in here,’ and he lifted the covers. Then she was in, lying beside him, naked as the day she was born, cuddling in to his shoulder and arm.

   ‘Better?’

   ‘Much,’ she said, and she turned and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘Thanks Gringo, for everything,’ and soon after that she fell asleep, as did he, happy in the knowledge that she was safe, and home, damaged, but back in the country, back where he could keep an eye on her.

   He knew the physical wounds would soon heal, but what about mental scars? Had this American prick been messing with her mind? What exactly had she been through? For all her charms and femininity, Glenda Martin was known to be tough, but sometimes when people are that way, they are taken for granted.

  
Glen will be all right
,
she’ll get by, she’s as hard as nails.

   But even tough people crack up sometimes, and who looks out for the toughies when they do?

   When he woke up he was alone.

   He stumbled from the bed and pulled back the curtains. It was a grey day, not raining, but showing every promise. He showered and shaved and dressed and peeked into her room. She was sleeping like a child, snoring like a baby, pink splashes in the centre of her white cheeks like a girl’s doll. He gently closed the door and crept downstairs and wrote a note.

Good morning sleepy head.

Trust you slept well. Here’s a key if you need to go out. If you want local shops turn right at the end of the close and then second right. There are some nice shops there. Suggest you wear a hat and pull it down over your face. I will be home between half six and seven. Prepare some vegetables for dinner. I’ll bring some meat in with me. Use the computer in my study if you want. The password is
Greeneman
. Here’s that memory stick I promised you. Write that novel, why don’t you? Don’t answer the phone. There’s plenty of hot water if you want a bath, and loads of food in the fridge.

Must go, I am running late,

Bye the way, it’s great to have you back.

Love

GG
XX

   He weighed the note down with the key and the pink memory stick and quietly let himself out and drove to work, tired, but happier than he’d been in weeks.

It was just on seven that evening when he was back at the house. He found her in the kitchen, threatening vegetables with one of his gleaming new knives.

   ‘Hi,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder.

   Gringo gaped down at the tight blue pants. She had a butt to die for, not exactly jeans, but a thin cotton material of some kind, and despite his loathing of trousers on women; these were different.

   ‘Had a nice day at the office, darling?’ she said, with just a hint of sarcasm.

   ‘Crazy,’ he answered. ‘We are so missing you, kid, mind you, we’d be missing anyone at the moment; we are so hectic.’

   ‘Thanks,’ she said, and she took the meat from him and opened the packet.

   ‘Pork chops! I haven’t seen a juicy pork chop in weeks.’

   ‘I thought that might be the case, and I remembered how you liked them so.’

   ‘Why don’t you go and get changed while I finish the meal?’

   Gringo wouldn’t argue with that, he was happy enough for anyone to cook him dinner, except perhaps Maria Almeida, who’d even made a mess of boiling rice. Twenty minutes later they sat at the table and ate dinner, Gringo producing a good bottle of chardonnay he’d left in the fridge.

   ‘So what sort of a day have you had?’ he asked.

   ‘Lazy. Had a lovely bath, that lotion stuff of yours is fab.’

   He already knew she’d bathed, and he knew that she’d overloaded on the most expensive bathing lotion he’d been able to find.

   ‘Did you go out?’

   ‘No, maybe tomorrow.’

   ‘Did you do any writing?’

   ‘I did, but I put a password protect on it, I hope you don’t mind.’

   Gringo frowned but in a contented kind of way.

   ‘None of my business. Did the phone ring?’

   ‘Not once.’

   ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow, but what I’ll do is, I’ll ring and let it ring three times, then I’ll hang up, then I’ll ring again, straight away, so you’ll know it’s me.’

   Glen smiled at his boyish games.

   ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘if you think it makes any difference.’

   ‘I thought you didn’t want anyone to know you were here?’

   ‘I don’t, but if I answered I wouldn’t have said anything.’

   ‘I’m out tomorrow night,’ he said, trying to sound as casual as he could.

   ‘Where are you going?’

   ‘I have a longstanding date; I just can’t get out of it.’

   ‘You mean you’re out whoring again?’ she said, a mischievous smile covering her face.

   ‘I am not
out whoring
, as you call it, and if I may say, Miss Martin, that is not a very nice phrase.’

   ‘Ooh teacher, sorry.’

   ‘Behave yourself!’

   She finished her pork chop and then said: ‘So who is the lucky girl?’

   ‘No one special, you don’t know her.’