With My Little Eye (9 page)

The sudden return to the earlier subject had Douglas blinking. ‘You mean dioxide, don't you? Carbon dioxide?'

George shrugged irritably. ‘Carbon something anyway. There's a cylinder of something of the sort in the big greenhouse but I don't know what Stan had it for. He said something once about doing some tests for somebody in the botany department.'

Douglas found that his memory was coming alive. There had been something on Discovery that Tash had repeated, ‘Plants take up very little food for growth through their roots. They need carbon to make material for growth but they get most of that from the carbon dioxide in the air.'

‘That'll be it, then. But that cylinder hasn't been touched for a while. There's dust and cobwebs a' over it.' George was uncomfortable. The little, involuntary movements that people make while speaking had ceased.

Douglas caught Tash's eye. They were developing an understanding which often made spoken words unnecessary, minute changes in body language being sufficient. This had proved valuable when confronting a householder who was prepared to swear that there had never been rot in the house while Douglas's nose was insisting that there was dry rot in the area of the staircase. He had kept the householder talking while Tash had slipped back to examine the understairs space away from which they had been firmly shepherded. Sure enough, the strands of
merulius lachrymans
were unmistakeable.

Tash left the room.

‘Do you know whether Stan ever made a will?'

George's eyes narrowed as if to prevent the escape of his anger. ‘What's it to you if he did?'

Douglas hid a sigh. He had no alternative to showing his best card. ‘We let Stan have the flat at a thief's bargain price on condition that he looked after the gardens for us.'

‘Well, you needn't look at me. Stan bought it, free and clear, and he said he wouldn't make a will because what he had would come to me anyway. And I'm not digging gardens at my age. Get somebody in to see to't and I'll pay my whack. But nothing fancy, mind. There's a dozen people living here and I'm only one, so I'll pay a twelfth.'

Douglas knew only too well that while the courts are often happy to order and enforce the paying over of money they have great difficulty enforcing a positive action. ‘It was a debt of honour,' he said, ‘and Stan would have honoured the bargain.' He had never counted heads but he wondered if George had had to include Mrs Jamieson's foetus to make the number up to a dozen.

‘I wasn't party to the bargain,' George said. The sneer in his voice was reflected in his eyes. ‘And I'm damned if I'll honour it. Emdy wants my honour they can have it, gift-wrapped. You needn't look at me all superior; you'll get your comeuppance. You should have heard some of the questions they were asking about you.'

‘Like what?' Douglas knew that he was innocent. Nevertheless, he felt the beginning of an internal cringe at the thought of suggestions being made to his neighbours concerning his integrity.

‘I'm not telling you like what. You can wait and find out the hard way.' George got up and headed for the door.

Douglas let him go. Tash had had time to get to the greenhouse. She returned after an interval suggesting that she had waited out of sight rather than risk meeting George on the stairs.

‘One cylinder,' she said, settling herself in her chair again, ‘clean and shining like new.'

‘You wouldn't expect it to be clean and shining after standing around in a greenhouse. You'd expect dust and cobwebs, just as George described it. And I can't imagine Stan going to the trouble of washing it or even wiping it down.'

Tash looked at him with her eyes very wide. ‘You think somebody used it and then cleaned it off in case of fingerprints or something?'

‘That,' Douglas said, ‘or that somebody wanted to incriminate George.'

‘I
t will soon be time,' Tash said, ‘that I went to my lonely little bed. My mother will be thinking that we're up to all sorts of shenanigans.'

‘We haven't had dinner yet.'

‘I meant dinner.' She paused, expectantly.

There had been plenty in her brief statement to set Douglas's mind working and his hormones coursing round his veins. Surely it could not have been a Freudian slip. Instead, he was reminded to take a brown envelope out of his pocket and hand it over. ‘I was almost forgetting to pay you.'

‘Thank you.' Tash opened the envelope, peeped inside and riffled the edges of the notes with her thumb. She sucked in breath through her teeth. ‘This is much more than you've been paying me up until now.'

‘You're becoming much more valuable.' Douglas had hesitated over raising the subject and had decided on an oblique approach via what amounted almost to a
fait
accompli
. ‘And if you want to join me full-time, there could be a job for you. My assistant as well as my secretary-typist-telephonist cum filing clerkess. You could study part-time for your qualification. That's if the subject interests you.'

‘Oh, it does,' she said. She flushed – with pleasure he hoped and believed. ‘People are interesting but they're not always logical. Sometimes they're impossible to explain. In buildings, as you said, nothing happens without a reason. There are detective stories hidden everywhere. Every little bit of them tells you something about the people who went before. And facts are facts when you can reach them, not like most subjects where no two people agree about anything.'

She fell silent. Douglas waited, admiring the soft curve of her cheek. ‘It's a wonderful offer,' she said at last. ‘It solves about ten thousand problems for me, all at the same time. Well, two or three.'

Douglas appreciated the gesture towards precision.

She paused again. She was turning pink and he noticed that she was twisting her hands together so tightly that her fingers were white. She was infinitely desirable and equally out of bounds. ‘My first impulse is to take you up on it quickly before you can change your mind.' She was speaking rapidly, almost gabbling. ‘But there's one subject that we should get out of the way first. You see, I'm a virgin.'

This came as a surprise – not the revelation but the mention of it. He tried to keep any amusement out of his voice. ‘I would have supposed so,' he said. ‘It's not a requirement for the job and if you come to work for me I wouldn't try to change that. Your private life would be your own.'

Her colour went from rose pink to dusky scarlet. ‘No, no,' she said. ‘That's not what I meant at all. Don't hurry me, just let me explain slowly and calmly, if I can.' She took several deep breaths. ‘It's this way. I've had boys chasing after me and wanting you-know-what, and I could have, but something held me back. Not just fear of getting it all wrong. And not just the fact that there wasn't one of them that I could even imagine myself in love with. I've listened to other girls, ones who've been doing it, and I'm confused. There are some who say that it's not all it's cracked up to be, nothing special at all, and others say that it's the greatest feeling in the world. And they say that you don't enjoy the first time because it hurts. And nobody can explain how it's supposed to feel. Mum explained how it all works but she could only talk about love in the abstract and contraception and about being swept off your feet and I can imagine all that stuff. Novels are full of it.'

‘Whereas you want to know what lust and orgasm feel like?'

She relaxed visibly and her colour began to subside. ‘That's it exactly. Then I can make up my own mind about these things. And I thought that you're about the nicest man I know and, if you don't mind my saying so, you're an attractive man in the prime of life. You'd know how it should really be and I know that you're not the sort who would talk about it afterwards. And I also know that you've had lady friends but you don't seem to be attached at the moment.'

Douglas felt his heart lift. He desired Tash but he had set his mind against making a pass at one so young and innocent; yet here she was, making a delightfully naïve pass at him. He was sure that if they tiptoed around the subject for much longer he would burst – probably with laughter. Somebody would have to drag the subject into the open by the scruff of its neck.

‘You want me to give you your first experience?' he said, hardly believing his ears.

Her gasp was definitely one of relief. ‘Once again, yes, that's it. That's if you don't mind,' she added anxiously.

Douglas struggled to hide all expression. ‘Of course I wouldn't mind. How could I possibly? You're hugely attractive. Not many men could look at you and not want you. It's been my favourite daydream. It would be a delightful privilege. But you do realize that there may be emotional consequences. I'm not saying that such consequences are bad. They may be great. But they're there.'

‘You mean like falling in love? I wouldn't want to be in a position to hurt your feelings. But I don't think we should talk about love. I'm too young for that. So no flowers, please or … or chocolates, or anything like that.'

‘Not even a diamond or two?'

‘Now you're just being silly.'

Douglas felt that they had gone quite far enough along that road. He had fulfilled his obligations. ‘When did you have in mind?'

Tash suddenly looked ten years younger. She fingered the hem of her skirt. ‘How about now? It needn't take long, need it?'

‘With your mother liable to come looking for you at any moment? And here comes the most important part of the lesson. It
should
take a long time. Those girls who told you that it was nothing special, they had been with the wrong sort of boy, the kind who takes his pleasure quickly and then hurries away, leaving the girl unsatisfied. The important thing, the most vital thing, is to wait until she's …' He ground to a halt, uncertain of how to explain without shocking her out of her mind.

‘It's all right,' she said hastily. ‘I think I know what you mean. Until she's ready.'

‘Yes. So on some occasion when we can be secure against interruption for not less than an hour, minimum, preferably all evening or even all night …'

She produced her most shining smile. Now she was less embarrassed than he was. ‘It will be something special to look forward to,' she said.

‘It certainly will. We'd have to have an agreement that if we don't suit each other that way – it does sometimes happen – we'll just forget about it, no hard feelings on either side and go on just as we are now.'

‘Yes! My mum was talking about going to spend a few days with my aunt in North Berwick, but if I was in a proper job …'

‘She'd have to leave you here.'

‘Yes.' She reached out a hand towards him. He was unsure what she expected him to do with it but he realized that they had not even touched fingers. No physical contact at all. He took her hand as if to shake it and she came to him as though pulled. He was determined not to kiss her so soon but he had no alternative.

The first touch of lips was nothing special. He had kissed many women and this was just one more. But then it became very special. It was not just that she had opened her very soft lips. It was more that she
meant
it. Just by touch she was sending messages.

He was still digesting the thought while enjoying the kiss when the latch clicked. They jumped apart. It was not Tash's mother but the youngest of Tash's siblings, Ella, who was sometimes sent to let Tash know that a meal or a visitor was waiting.

At four, Ella's vocabulary was still limited. ‘Iggley biggley bopchick,' she said. It had become a favourite expression of hers. Nobody knew where it came from or what it was supposed to mean. They had decided that it probably resembled the sound of some phrase heard on television but not understood and that she guessed, from the audience reaction, that it had some significance. ‘Come,' she added, clearly.

‘We're coming,' Tash said huskily. The look she exchanged with Douglas said clearly,
Did she see us?
Ella's voice from the landing gave her the answer. ‘Kissy-kissy.'

As she followed her little sister down the stairs Tash said loudly, ‘I already gave you your kissy-kissy.' She sounded quite convincing. Ella was startled into silence. It was quick thinking.

Douglas was left to his thoughts. As she said, it would be something to look forward to – if she went through with it. It was the sort of promise that girls made and then got cold feet, or had never intended to keep anyway. Perhaps he had imagined the whole conversation. That the exquisite, adorable Tash should offer herself was the subject for a male fantasy. Time would tell.

D
ouglas was becoming restive. All that he wanted out of life was enough success in his chosen profession to let him live in reasonable comfort and without any doubts about his future security and some leisure time to pursue his other interests. Some female companionship would be a bonus.

This ideal state had seemed to be within his grasp, all but the female companionship, until the finding of Stan's body. Now, with policemen appearing and vanishing like pantomime fairies and unanswerable questions hanging in the wind, he was unsettled. Whenever he got his teeth into the next task it seemed that some quirk of the mystery would assume great importance, at least in the minds of the police, and he would be forced to choose between accepting the distractions from his life and work while he explained for the fourth or fifth time what he had thought was obvious to every visitor, as against telling the police to go and play in the pretty traffic. But the police have enviable facilities for letting the driver or homeowner or professional man know that they are less than happy, so offending them had to remain as a last resort.

To gain himself a little of the peace and quiet that he craved, Douglas went out for a walk. The day was Sunday. The law about Sunday shooting is confused but local prejudice is not, so he left his gun behind and carried a walking stick instead, to Rowan's disgust.