But had the turned-on switch done anything for her? Maybe her chemistry hadn’t responded as mine had. This was something I had to find out.
I had walked with her to the Mirabeau restaurant where I often dined. She was one of those rare women who didn’t dither when studying a menu. She took one brief glance, then said she would like the clam chowder. It was a good choice. I went along with it.
‘Now tell me about yourself,’ she said, resting her elbows on the table and regarding me with those big green eyes.
So I told her about my father, my golf, B. E. & C. and Brannigan. We had nearly finished the meal by the time I had finished my life story.
‘Are you married, Mr. Lucas?’
‘No.’ I smiled at her. ‘But as soon as the pressure is off, I want to get married.’
‘Any particular girl?’
‘There is a vague chance I have found one, but I’m not sure yet.’
She regarded me, then looked away. Her lips curled into a little smile. I had the idea she got the message.
While I was ordering coffee she lit a cigarette, and when the waiter had gone, she said, ‘A real success story, Mr. Lucas. Congratulations.’
‘It happens. I had the knowledge, but then I had luck.’
‘But you had to have the knowledge. Tell me... is it a fact that the Sharnville bank is the safest bank in the world or is that just a publicity stunt?’
‘It is the safest bank in the world. I should know: I installed all the security equipment... it is no publicity stunt.’
She looked impressed.
‘It would make a great news story. Tell me about it.’
‘Sorry, that’s not for me to talk about. Before I got the job, I had to sign a paper not to talk. If you want the story, talk to Alec Manson who runs the bank, but I don’t think he will tell you much. The bank’s security is top secret.’
‘Well, I can try.’ She smiled her dazzling smile. ‘Would you give me an introduction to Mr. Manson?’
‘No problem. Now, tell me something about yourself. Where are you staying in Sharnville, and how long will you be here?’
‘At the Excelsior, and I’ll be here at least a month.’
‘Do you like the Excelsior?’
She grimaced.
‘Does anyone like staying in a hotel?’
‘Would a two-room furnished apartment with a kitchen interest you?’
Her green eyes sparkled.
‘Would it not! That would be marvellous!’
‘Then I can fix it for you. There’s an empty apartment in my complex. I can fix it for you to have for a month.’ I signalled for the cheque. ‘Like to see it?’
‘Why, thank you, Mr. Lucas.’
I looked directly into the big green eyes.
‘Make it Larry, Glenda,’ I said. ‘We are going to be neighbours. My apartment is across the corridor.’
The following morning, she had moved into the apartment. I called Alec Manson and told him about her, explaining she was doing a reportage on Sharnville for The Investor, and she would like to talk to him.
In his dry, clipped voice, he said she could come any time, so I called Glenda and told her to go ahead, and if she had nothing better to do, why not let us have dinner together this evening?
This time I took her to a seafood restaurant. While driving her along the coast road, I asked how she had made out with Manson.
She raised her slim hands and let them drop, in her lap.
‘Like interviewing an oyster. He allowed me to shoot the outside of the bank and the lobby. When I asked him about the security, he stayed dumb. I have no story, Larry.’
‘I warned you. After all, Glenda, if he let you into the secrets of the bank security, it would no longer be the safest bank in the world, would it?’
She laughed.
‘You have a point, but what a story!’ She looked at me. ‘But you can tell me.’
‘I could, but I won’t. Brannigan has plans to open four more banks along the coast, and I get the security job. I want that contract. Brannigan is a very smart cookie. He would know at once I had been talking. Sorry, Glenda.’
‘Oh, well!’ She shrugged.
We arrived at the restaurant and settled at our table. After consulting the menu, we both settled for lobsters.
While waiting, she asked. ‘What is crime like in Sharnville?’
‘That’s something I know nothing about. You talk to Sheriff Joe Thomson. He’ll be glad to give you a rundown. I play golf with him from time to time. He’s a smart cookie.’
While we were eating, I thought it time to get to know something about her personal life.
‘You’ve quizzed me, Glenda. It’s my turn. Are you married?’ I asked this question with trepidation.
‘Yes... it didn’t work out.’ She pulled a little face. ‘I’m a working woman. He was an auto salesman. He just sat around and did nothing. I made a mistake.’
‘We all make them.’
‘I guess.’ She looked at me and smiled. ‘But I’ll confess, I get tired sometimes of this job: it’s all race and chase: living in hotels, motels. It pays off, but...’ She shrugged.
‘Ever thought of trying marriage again?’ I asked, looking directly at her.
She stiffened, and those green eyes lost their sparkle.
‘There is nothing to stop anyone thinking, is there?’ She pushed her plate aside. ‘That was good.’
‘Coffee?’
She nodded.
There was a long pause as we both regarded the ocean, shimmering in the moonlight. I longed to rush it, but knew it would be a mistake. I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to tell her I had lots of money, could give her a home and wanted her to be with me for the rest of my life, but I told myself I had to wait to get some sign from her. I had to be patient. I had a month.
Back at my complex, we rode up in the elevator to the tenth floor, and we paused outside her door.
‘Thank you, Larry. It has been a lovely evening.’
‘Let’s do it again tomorrow night.’
She regarded me thoughtfully, then shook her head.
‘No. Come and have dinner with me. I’ll cook for you.’
Then she smiled. ‘It’s odd how people meet.’ She put her hand on my aim. ‘Tomorrow at eight,’ and leaning forward, she brushed my cheek with her lips, smiled and disappeared into her apartment, gently shutting the door.
I stood for a long moment, staring at the door, knowing now our chemistry had fused, and scarcely believing it.
We sat side by side on the settee. The single lamp cast shadows. We had eaten the best meal I had ever had: crab soup, and the breasts of duck in rice with soya sauce. We had had three large gin martinis each, and had shared a bottle of Beaujolais. I had never felt more relaxed nor more contented.
Very softly, Bing Crosby sang The Blue of the Night from a cassette she had put on.
Having her by my side, the atmosphere, that golden voice singing, the food and drink was my moment of truth. I felt I couldn’t ever be so happy, so relaxed. This was a memory to hold on to and to remember.
I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want her to talk. I just wanted to sit there, slightly drunk, listening to that voice, looking at her as she lay back, her eyes closed, the shadows from die lamp, making her face even more beautiful than it was.
The song came to an end, and there was a sudden emptiness in this rather shabby, but comfortable room.
She opened her eyes and smiled at me.
‘Everything finally comes to an end.’ She reached out and switched off the recorder.
‘That was marvellous,’ I said. The meal was marvellous.’ I looked at her. ‘You are marvellous.’
She reached for a cigarette, lit it, then lay back, but away from me.
‘Last night, you asked me if I ever thought of trying marriage again. I want you to know about Alex, my husband.’