Dishonored (24 page)

Mick Capper sat on a sunbed in the shade of an umbrella and watched the poolside. He was a deep, nutty brown, his hair bleached
pale streaky blond and he wore black nylon trunks that fitted him perfectly, a gold bracelet and a pair of Ray-Ban aviators.
He was looking out for Suzanna Harvey.

Mick knew a stroke of luck when he saw one and he knew what to do about it as well. That was Mick’s strength, sniffing out
an opportunity, had a nose like a boxer his mates back in London used to say, and Suzanna Harvey was an opportunity, she was
one hell of an opportunity, ripe and just ready for the picking. Mick smiled and clicked his fingers for the boy to bring
him a beer.

Mick had been checking out that morning, he’d decided to move on, when he saw her, decided the hotel was a dead loss, nothing
doing and he couldn’t afford to waste time. But at the reception desk he’d spied Mrs. Harvey, the lady with married boyfriend
departing, floods of tears, sobbing, the works. He’d stood at the desk and eyed them across reception, the cut of the bloke’s
suit, the Chanel skirt and top, the massive diamond the lady wore and he’d made a split-second decision. He canceled out his
check and re-booked his room. Yes, he thought, spotting her instantly now and watching her settle herself on to a sunbed,
Mick Capper certainly knew a stroke of luck when he saw one. He lifted the magazine high enough to cover his face but low
enough to secure his view, and rested back. No hurry, don’t want to rush her, he thought, seeing the slug of vodka she added
to the tonic she’d just ordered, give her plenty of time to relax in the sun. Babes were a hell of a lot easier relaxed in
the sun.

Suzanna drifted off. She dropped her hand over the side of the sunbed, her arm completely relaxed and let her head loll to
one side. Her eyes were shut and the sounds of the pool slowly faded; she saw a wonderful blank space in her mind and sighed.
Seconds later she woke up.

“Oh! Christ what…!” She sat up and shielded her eyes from the sun, looking up at the figure by the side of her sunbed.
Her heart was pounding and her head ached. She felt confused, disoriented.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The American accent stepped into the shade and came into view. He was
smiling. “I thought I should move the umbrella,” he said. “You were going a little red on your legs and I was afraid you might
burn.” He shook his head. “I really do apologize, I honestly didn’t mean to startle you but this sun is so fierce.”

Suzanna relaxed back. She
was
going red on her legs and the man was rather good-looking in a slick sort of way. She reached for her drink but the glass
was empty.

“May I get you another?”

She hesitated. “No, thank you but I, erm…”

He reached up and tilted the shade for her unasked. “That’s better,” he said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like another?”

He really was very attentive. Suzanna looked at his face. He was nicely spoken too, a soft American drawl. “Well, all right,
thank you.” She reached for her dress and slipped it over her head. “Would you like to join me?”

“Yes, thanks.” The man sat on the edge of the facing sunbed and Suzanna noticed how tight his trunks were. She glanced away.

“Charles Swan,” he said, holding out his hand, his American-in-town act was probably his best.

Suzanna looked up. “Suzanna Harvey,” she answered, and they shook hands.

“Very nice to meet you, Suzanna. Are you in India long?”

“I don’t know, I…” Suzy’s voice trailed off and she was relieved at the appearance of the boy.

“What are you drinking?” He knew exactly what she was drinking.

“A tonic water,” she said. “Er, with vodka,” she added. Mick smiled. He ordered the drinks and rested back on his hands, looking
at her.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Sorry?” Suzanna found his gaze disconcerting. It was a very long time since anyone had looked at her like that.

“What are you here for?”

She thought for a moment, then said, “Holiday. What about you?”

“Business,” he answered. “Only I’m taking a couple of days’ hard-earned rest.”

“I see.” Suzanna took her drink off the tray the boy held out and waited for Charles to do the same. “Cheers,” she said, “and
thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Mick sipped his beer. “So, Suzanna, do you like India?” He watched her face. He always used this question,
it opened them up, led to all sorts of things.

“I don’t know, I’ve not seen much of it.”

Mick nodded. “Just Delhi, right?”

Suzanna finished her drink. She was thirsty, she clicked for the boy. “Not even Delhi,” she said. “The Taj Mahal Hotel.” She
laughed hollowly.

“Would you like to see Delhi?” Mick kept his eyes on her face. “I have some free time, I could always show you—”

“No.” Suzanna cut him short. “Thank you very much, it’s terribly kind of you but no. I don’t think so.”

He shrugged casually to cover his irritation. He’d moved too fast, he should have been more careful. “If you change your mind
at all, if you need any company, for dinner maybe, just let me know.” He smiled and pressed his palms together, imitating
the Indian way. Suzanna smiled back.

“That’s better,” he said. “You don’t smile often enough, it changes your whole face.”

Suzy looked up at him. It was the nicest thing she’d heard in months. He was right though, she didn’t smile often enough,
she was far too sad nowadays. “We could meet up for dinner,” she said suddenly, without thinking, “in the hotel restaurant.”

Mick grinned. “Hey, that would be really nice! To tell you the truth I could use the company.”

Suzy laughed; she was glad she’d suggested it. He was genuinely pleased, he wanted to be with her.

“Shall we meet in the bar for a drink first?” he asked.

“Yes, all right. What time?”

“Say I book a table for eight and we meet around seven-thirty?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Mick held out his hand and Suzanna took it. “I shall look forward to it, Suzanna.”

“Suzy, everyone calls me Suzy,” she said.

He nodded and grinned a second time. It had worked like a charm, always did. “See ya later then, Suzy.”

“Yes, thanks.” The boy arrived with her drink and she held up her hand to wave before she took it and swallowed down a hefty
gulp. She felt good, the sun, the vodka, here on her own, independent for once in her life and she knew what was going to
happen next, she didn’t have to think about it. She watched Charles walk into the hotel and waved a second time as he turned
and glanced back from the doors. Thank God she didn’t have to think about what would happen next.

Jane and Phillip sat in silence. Dinner was over; they sat on the terrace in the flickering lantern light and looked in opposite
directions. Phillip thought about Suzanna, he missed her, he longed for her and he felt guilty about her. He also felt guilty
about Jane. He felt alone and for the first time since he had imagined all this he felt the terrible pang of doubt. He wondered
what the hell he was doing.

Jane thought about nothing in particular; she wouldn’t let herself think about Rami and she had no feelings about Phillip,
so she simply stared at the floodlit gardens in the distance and wondered how the maharani’s roses were doing. She started
when she heard Phillip’s voice.

“Janey?” She looked around. “Janey, I think we should talk.”

She sipped her water and watched him over the rim of the glass but she remained silent. It was he who had disappeared off
to Delhi without warning or explanation, and it was he who had returned difficult and morose. Jane had nothing to say.

“Jane, when did things get so silent between us?” He leaned forward and touched her hand on the table. It lay lifeless under
his own. “You’re not unhappy, are you?”

“No, Phillip, I am not unhappy,” she answered. She could have said so much more, made accusations, voiced her opinions but
she couldn’t be bothered. She wasn’t sure she really cared that much anymore.

“Jane, I need you, you know, I really do.” He picked her hand up and squeezed it. He wanted some sort of physical contact,
he was down, he wanted some comfort from his wife. “I don’t want things to go on the way they are.”

Jane sighed. She placed her glass on the table and sat forward. “Nor do I, Phillip,” she answered honestly. It was no life,
this silent hostility.

“Jane, can we sleep together tonight? Try to sort this out?”

But Jane immediately recoiled. She sat back and looked away. “No,” she answered quietly, “I don’t think so, not tonight.”

Phillip kept his eyes on her face. “Please,” he said, “just in the same bed, just close to each other, that’s all.” He had
no more desire to make love than Jane did but he needed the solace of her, he needed physical reassurance.

Jane faced him. How could she refuse? She was his wife for pity’s sake. She stared down at her lap and nodded her head.

“Thank you, Jane.” Phillip reached out and took her hand a second time. “Thank you.”

Suzy stepped into the lift with Charles and he pressed the fifth-floor button. They smiled at each other as they traveled
up in silence, each of them watching the floors light up on the elevator panel. The lift stopped, the door opened and Suzy
stepped out. “I’m just up here on the right,” she said as she dug in her bag for her key. “Thank you for seeing me to my room.”

Mick shrugged. “It was a pleasure Suzy, thank you for a wonderful evening.”

She turned to him and smiled. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“It was delightful.” Mick dug his hands in his pockets. “Look, erm, Suzy…” he broke off.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’ll think I’m interfering.”

She smiled. “No I won’t, come on, tell me, what is it?”

“Well.” He hesitated a second time for effect, then said, “I know it’s none of my business but over dinner you said you’ve
been pretty uptight recently and can’t sleep, I just kind of thought that maybe I might be able to help.”

Suzanna stiffened but Mick noticed it. He played the next bit very, very carefully.

“I get the same you see, when the work gets on top of me.

She nodded and relaxed again. Charles had talked a great deal about his work, he was creative, a writer, and he’d said he
thought Suzy was creative too. He could tell these things, sense them. “Well look, I, er, have a couple of pills here,” he
said quietly, “little things I take very now and then, when I get a bit kind of stressed.” He brought his hand out of his
pocket and held it out, palm up. Suzanna stared down at two pink capsules.

“Here, take them.”

Suzy shook her head. “Thanks, I appreciate it, but no thanks.” She smiled to cover her shock. He could be anyone, offering
her drugs, she turned away toward the door. “I must get into bed,” she said quickly. “It’s late.”

Mick caught her hand as she turned. “God, Suzy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No, no you haven’t offended me!” She laughed nervously.

“Look, I’m only trying to help, that’s all. Please, don’t be shocked.”

Suzanna looked at him. He popped one of the pills into his mouth and swallowed. “They really help me unwind,” he said, “help
me sleep.”

Suzy still wasn’t sure but Mick pressed the little pill into her hand. “Take it,” he said. “Flush it down the toilet if you
don’t want it.” He smiled. “I’ll never know.”

Finally Suzanna smiled back. She had no intention of using it but there was no point in being rude. “I must go,” she said.
“Thank you again for your company.”

“And yours,” Mick replied.

“Right then.” She put the key in the lock and Mick turned toward the lift. He pressed for it and it opened immediately. “Good
night, Suzanna,” he said before stepping into it. “Sleep tight.”

“Good night, Charles.” She waited for the lift doors to close again, then she let herself into the suite, dropped the little
pill into the ashtray on the table and went through to the bedroom to get ready for bed.

It was two
A.M.
and Suzanna woke with a start. Her heart was racing and she felt sick. Rolling on to her side, she opened her eyes and saw
the light from the bathroom, it reassured her and she sat up.

It happened a lot now, a few hours of heavy, vodka-induced sleep, then she woke, suddenly, with a fright and a stale, dull
taste in her mouth. She knew the drink didn’t help, only made it worse really, but if she didn’t drink she wouldn’t have slept
at all.

Dropping her legs over the side of the bed, Suzy stood, and groped her way in semi-darkness to the bathroom. There she poured
some water from the jug, drank it down and sat on the edge of the bath, looking at herself in the mirror and thinking about
Phillip. She missed him so much it hurt. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugged herself and let her head fall on to
her chest. What if I rang him, she thought, just to say a few words, just to know he wasn’t so far away. She glanced up and
saw the dark shadows under her eyes. If I spoke to him I might be able to sleep, if I could just reassure myself. She stood
up and walked out of the bathroom, switching on the lights in the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Opening the bedside drawer, she took out her diary and turned to the back page. She had written down his number from his business
card while he was in the shower. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d seen it there in his wallet and she couldn’t help herself.
Phillip didn’t want her to have his number, he said he’d call her daily in the UK but she took it all the same. If I can just
hear his voice, she thought, picking up the receiver, I’ll feel all right, I’ll know that he’s there for me. She dialled the
operator and read out the number in her book, then she replaced the receiver, sat back and waited for the call to come through.

Jane wasn’t asleep. She lay next to Phillip, listening to him breathe quietly and evenly and looked out at the night sky.
The moon was a slither, a tiny slice of iridescent light covered every now and then by a passing cloud. It was hot, hot and
still and silent, only the small sound of Phillip’s sleeping, steady and slow, broke the unending, suffocating quiet.