Erotic Refugees (9 page)

“
What, you're keeping
count?” Rob said. “Fillin' out a spreadsheet?”

“
Actually yeah. I'm a
statistician, that's what I do. Numbers are power.”

Eoin was paying rapt attention.
These were useful, if slightly mad, tips. “Don't they ever discover
you have several profiles?”

“
Oh yeah, sure they do,
and they hate that. I never hide it, or lie about it, but it gets
to them, it really does. Around a quarter of them get so annoyed
that they break contact with me entirely. I guess they feel I'm
cheating on them somehow. Of course, none of them know about the
third profile.”

Another chilli nut went on the
table. Andy folded a beer mat so that it could stand and placed
this tiny screen in front of the nut. “Now with this little beauty
I can gauge the true heart of the ladies. This profile is a
fictional character, with a fake background and a photo of an old
college friend of mine. With this ghost profile I can spy on the
ladies without revealing who I am, or I can send this character to
try and pick up ladies I am already dating on my real profile.”

“
Why bother?” Rob said.
“Won't they see it’s you when ye meet them?”

“
I don't meet them on
this profile, do I? I just try and get them to meet me, to gauge
how honest they are. And if they're interested enough in the real
me to stop trawling for other men—well, then all's well and
good!”

Rob lit a cigarette and slid
the pack along the table. Eoin and Andy shook their heads. “Listen
lads, this is all great, male bonding and everything. But let’s get
some work done, before we're too pissed to think straight.”

“
Sure,” Andy said and
devoured the three profile nuts. “Let's hear this ground-shaker of
an idea then.”

Eoin explained the idea for the
website while Andy listened attentively. When he was done Andy
leaned back in his chair and rubbed his beard. “Well it seems kind
of obvious, and if it's obvious and doesn't already exist then it
could be a winner.”

“
See?” Eoin said,
delighted. “I told you it was good.”

“
I never said it wasn't,”
Rob said. “But I do know what to do with it. We build the bugger,
run it for a year, and get ourselves one fat database of single
parents who like to spend. Then we sell the whole shebang and
recline on our money.”

“
The man's not wrong,”
Andy said. “That's kind of data's a goldmine. Advertisers would
love you.”

“
Great! So let's get
sketchin'! And whose round is it anyway?”

“
Yours,” Andy said. Rob
couldn't really argue, but still gave a tortured sigh as he hauled
himself to his feet and made for the bar. Andy got busy drawing
boxes and arrows in his notebook and Eoin was about to join in when
his mobile beeped.

“
Sorry,” he muttered. “I
should check this.” He read the text message and wasn’t surprised
to see it was from Alice.

All well? Don’t forget to call
Anja!

Eoin groaned. When was she
going to stop pushing him on Anja? Time to change the topic. Here
with Rob and friend. Maybe ask them to summerhouse.

A quick reply from Alice:
Friend eh? Who is friend?

American, fun, you will
like.

Rob returned. He unloaded his
cargo of pints and started complaining to Andy about a football
game he'd spotted on the TV inside. Eoin wasn't really listening.
He took his new pint, even though his old one had still a third
remaining, and watched his mobile. In a few seconds the next
message arrived. Cute guy? Hot accent?

Eoin wasn't quite sure how to
answer that one. He sneaked a look at Andy, who had abandoned his
notes for the moment and was busy illustrating a football manoeuvre
on the table using more chilli nuts.

Suppose. Andy. Smart,
muscles.

Smart muscles? Nice. Would YOU
do him?

Eoin grinned and replied. Not
unless it was medical emergency.

Ok. Is fine, bring Rob + Andy.
And call Anja!

Eoin put the phone away. He
didn't think he'd be calling Anja today. In fact, he had decided to
simply do nothing at all on that front. The problem would therefore
fix itself, with no embarrassing dialogue or effort required.

“
Well then,” he said.
“It's all fixed.”

Rob looked up. “Funding for the
website? Nice work Eoin. Can you fix us a hardcore programmer while
yer at it? And a few of those TV weather girls with the tight
skirts? Plus an infinite supply of pints would be nice.”

“
Can it Rob,” Andy said.
“What did you fix, Eoin?”

“
A friend of mine has a
summer house on Gotland and we're invited to visit for a week in
July. She says it's fantastic there.”

“
She?” Rob said, with a
grin. “So is this a friend or a wink-nudge friend?”

“
She's a workmate. And
definitely just a friend.”

“
You said late July?”
Andy said. “Sure, for a few days at least. Rob?”

“
Yeah, sure, it's not
like I can afford any other kind of holiday right now. We can
always work on the website there, right? I mean, they'll have
electricity?”

Eoin's phone beeped again. He
pulled it out and opened the message.

Not Andrew Quirley is it?

Eoin's chest tightened. This
didn't sound good. In fact this sounded complicated and Eoin hated
complicated.

“
Um, Andy? Your name, is
it Quirley? Andrew Quirley?”

From the look on Andy's face
Eoin could see that indeed it was. He also saw that Andy was
furiously trying to work out why Eoin would be asking, and who he
had on the other end of his text conversation.

“
What?” Rob said,
shifting his gaze from Andy to Eoin, aware that something was up.
Nobody answered him. The waitress passed by again and, with an
audible sigh, grabbed a few of the glasses that were now piling up
on the table to a ridiculous extent. She swept away again, with no
eye contact given or offered.

“
Yeah,” Andy admitted
after some consideration. “It's Quirley. Your friend, she someone I
know? She the one with the house?”

“
One second,” Eoin said,
in the middle of tapping in his reply to Alice.

Yes, Quirley, bad?

He placed the mobile on the
table. “Her name's Alice. Alice Köhler.”

Andy gave a nervous smile.
“Alice? She's a friend of yours?” He shifted position and crossed
one leg in front of him. “Right. I see.”

Beep beep. Eoin read the
message.

Well he's not invited.

Eoin blinked. That sounded …
determined, and not at all like Alice. Something odd was going on.
He sent a reply—Why, what's up? What he do?—and turned back to
Andy.

“
I work with her. I'm
guessing you know her?”

“
You could say that,”
Andy said. “We've bumped into each other, on occasion.”

Eoin nodded, and something
occurred to him. Alice and Andy both dated online, and Alice had
her thing about English speakers. So it wasn't hard to work out how
they'd met. However, Alice seemed quite angry at Andy, and Andy
seemed more than a bit nervous of Alice, which meant there was a
lot more going on here than a simple date or two.

“
Look,” Rob said, looking
flustered. “If somebody doesn't tell me what's going on here, I'll
have to—”

“
You'll have to go get
some ciggs, that's what you'll have to do,” Andy said, not taking
his eyes off Eoin. “We're out, and I'm sure you owe me about a
hundred.”

Rob nodded but didn't move.
“Sure, in a minute. I'm not goin' anywhere until I see what happens
here.”

“
Whatever.” Andy turned
to Eoin and leaned closer. “Look, that lady friend of yours has
some issues with me. If she hasn't told you about them, then I
shouldn't either, that's up to her. But I don't think—”

Eoin yelped in surprise as his
mobile beeped again. He snatched it up.

Forget it, he's just not
coming. Now drop this.

What now? Was she angry, and if
so was it at him, or at Andy? What was he supposed to do here?

“
See?” Andy said.
“Something weird, am I right?”

Eoin said nothing and continued
to study her text. He sent a reply.

Come on Alice, tell me
something here!

“
I’d really prefer not to
see that woman,” Andy said. “And it's not that I'm scared of her,
or anything—”

“
Oh yeah he is!” Rob
broke in. “Look at him, he's scared shitless! Now we're definitely
goin' to this summer house, I just have to see what
happens!”

Andy grunted as he raised his
pint and consumed half of it in a few heavy gulps. Eoin, at a loss
for anything else to do, followed suit. The waitress passed by once
more, and not even her obvious attempts to not notice them could
distract Rob from his ghoulish interest in Andy's discomfort and in
Eoin's confusion.

Andy wasn't smiling any more
and the mood at the table had definitely dipped from edgy to
morose. “Rob,” he said flatly. “Go get ciggs. And Eoin, change the
subject. Anything will do, just change it.”

Rob departed obediently and
Eoin sat in the uncomfortable silence he left behind. He hid behind
his Guinness, avoiding Andy's gaze, feeling slightly annoyed by the
whole situation and his sudden unrequested role in it. Because if
Alice and Andy had some lingering problem between them, and they
were both friends of his, then he saw no way to not get
involved.

He gave a sigh. More drama,
that was just perfect. Because if there was one thing his life
needed at this moment, it was more bloody drama.

Chapter
12

“
So,” Kajsa said from the
living room as Rob was tugging off his shoes in the hall. “Back so
soon. Just the usual, or do you have time for a conversation
today?”

Rob slackened the pace of his
footwear removal. So it hadn't just been a glitch the last time he
was here, something was definitely up. Kajsa had seemed well
disposed to a quick one when he'd texted her an hour earlier, but
now she was once again getting all … all something on him. He was
starting to suspect there were indeed strings attached to this
whole situation. It was therefore time to move carefully.

“
Yeah, sorry about the
last time, but my friend called, and he needed help—”

“
Uppsala, yes, I
remember.” Kajsa slung the tea towel she was holding across her
shoulder. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.
She was wearing a pink and white striped top that hung loosely on
her, and Rob couldn't keep his gaze from her cleavage even though
he knew he should probably be trying.

”
Look Rob, sorry, but
when you contact me like that, just out of nowhere, I feel like,
like a pizzeria.”

Rob shrugged. “Yeah, sorry. I
was just on my way home, and I knew you were usually home on
Fridays, so I thought—”

Kajsa waved a hand, causing the
curve of her unsupported chest to jiggle. “Whatever, it doesn't
matter. I will make some tea, do you want too?”

“
Sure.” She headed into
the kitchen and Rob followed after her, hoping she'd calmed down
and the worst was over. He settled at her little fold-out table and
flipped through a magazine without really looking at the
words.

Kajsa had a nice flat with a
high ceiling and every detail planned out. She even had plants and
Rob was in awe of anybody who could keep plants. The longest he'd
kept something alive was a couple of weeks, and that had been a
cactus.

“
So what were you up to
this morning?”

“
Was seeing my job
officer, and do ye know what he did? He made me sign up for a
start-your-own-business course, starting on Saturday! That’s the
next two weekends out the bloody window. How about that, two prime
July weekends just gone.” He shook his head in anguish. “It was
never this hard being on the dole in Ireland. Ye just showed up and
sort of waved at them when it suited ye, and they handed over the
money. Here it’s all like”—he made a disgusted
face—“work.”

“
I agree, it’s very rude
of them,” Kajsa said, spooning tea leaves into a pot. “Making the
unemployed get up on weekends. The fascists.”

“
But that was valuable
programming time! And I need all the time I have to get this
Internet idea off the ground.”

Kajsa reached for a high shelf,
balanced on her small sockless feet. “Well if you have a business
idea, then surely the course will be useful. What’s this idea of
yours?”

Rob told her what they were
working on. Not that she seemed very interested. She wasn't a
single parent or a programmer, and as far as he knew she had little
interest in online things in general. He babbled away anyway as it
helped steer the conversation away from the more thorny areas of
shame and guilt and such.

She set down two mugs of tea
and a jug of milk and then sat at the table, knee to knee with Rob.
She smelled good. Her perfume, delicate with a sour edge, was slick
with physical associations.

She poured milk into her tea
and when she put down the jug her hand dropped and found its way to
Rob's knee. And then, having found Rob's knee, the hand decided to
keep on moving, as its owner moved her face closer to Rob's.

Rob suspected tea was
postponed. He pulled her head closer, dug his fingers into her
thick brown hair and sniffed behind the ears. Her breath came
through her nose in tiny wheezes. Her hand continued its wandering
and Rob slipped his own free hand into the hanging opening of her
top. He found the spiky hair of her armpit and slid around to her
right breast, where he located the nipple and squeezed.