‘You haven’t met Diane yet, have you, Oz?’ She looked at me with big, soft, brown eyes. There was something about her which told me, in the same instant, who was boss in the Davis household. But in the same moment it came to me that people probably thought the same about my wife.
The giant leaned down towards Dylan, in a half bow. ‘Hi, I’m Everett Davis.’
‘Better known as Daze?’ the policeman ventured.
A laugh rumbled up, and surfaced. ‘Probably: but it’s okay, Daze ain’t here tonight. Just Everett and Diane Davis, a businessman and his wife.’ He turned to me. ‘Jack Gantry invited us as a personal favour. I’m trying to cut a deal with an Estonian station, so when I heard about this reception, I had to be here.’
‘So how do you come to know Oz?’ DI Mike butted in. He sounded incredulous; it was my turn to feel a bit narked.
‘We have a mutual friend,’ the wrestler replied, without a sign of a pause or hesitation. ‘He introduced us.’
‘Are you a fan of the Global Wrestling Alliance, Mike?’ I asked. I know; I’m a sod, but I just can’t resist winding that man up. I could tell that he was the sort of bloke who would be a fan, but embarrassed to admit it.
He seemed to flush, slightly, telling me in the process that my guess had been spot on. ‘I’ve seen it on occasion,’ he mumbled.
Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket. ‘Come see us in Newcastle on Saturday, then. Bring Susie and her father. These are for the VIP area.’ He produced three tickets and handed them to Dylan. I recognised them, since he had given me four as I left his office.
‘Are youse all enjoying yourselves, then?’ The Lord Provost’s easy, confident voice sounded from behind us, but his accent was noticeably different, now that there were more people around. It struck me that he must slip into Glesca’ patois when he was performing for a wider audience. I turned and there he was moving towards us, all gold chain and Mr Glasgow smile, with a slim, grey-haired man following in his wake.
‘Everett,’ he said, his voice dropping to its former level, and his accent returning to normal, ‘if you have a minute, the Prime Minister would like to speak to you.’
As he turned, the big man gave me a lightning fast wink. ‘Of course, Jack.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘Where can we talk?’
‘Come on through to my office. No one will disturb us there.’ For a second, I thought he was going to try to throw an avuncular hand around Everett’s shoulders, but he couldn’t reach that high: instead he simply patted him, somewhere in the lower part of his back.
‘See you tomorrow night,’ the big man whispered to me, as he moved off with the Lord Provost and the Prime Minister. Automatically, without a sign from her husband, Diane went with them.
‘Your dad seems pretty pally with Everett,’ I said to Susie.
She nodded. ‘He performed the opening ceremony at the GWA headquarters building. And he appeared at the ring at their first show in the SECC. Ever since they came to Glasgow, he’s been telling people what a benefit they bring in selling the city abroad.
‘Yes, you could say that he’s a big Daze fan’
As Susie spoke a drinks waitress appeared at my shoulder, as if the Lord Provost’s departure had been her cue. She offered her tray to our group: our detective friend picked up two glasses at once, handing one to the Lady Provost, but my wife shook her head.
I took the hint. ‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘Susie, it’s been nice to meet you. It’s even been good to see you again, Mike,’ I slipped in as an aside. ‘But we’d better be going.’
‘Yes,’ Jan added. ‘It was great of you to invite us along: I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But I have some work to catch up on this evening.’
‘My pleasure,’ Susie Gantry replied. She gave us a smile, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared, with the slight frown which creased her forehead. ‘Do you have time for any more work, Jan?’ she asked, suddenly.
My wife looked at her, surprised. ‘Just about,’ she answered. ‘It would depend how much was involved.’
The Lord Provost’s daughter reached into her red leather shoulder-bag, and produced a card. ‘Give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll fix up a meeting. You can tell me a bit more about yourself, and I’ll show you the Gantry Group.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jan. ‘I’ll take you up on that.’
I don’t really know what made me do it. I suppose it would have been churlish not to, yet I’ve never had a problem being a churl when it’s been necessary. I picked out my business card from the supply I always keep in my breast pocket and handed it to Dylan. ‘Give me a bell yourself, Mike, if you fancy a pint sometime.’
He looked at me as if a show of friendship was an unusual experience for him. . and I guessed that it probably was. ‘I’ll do that,’ he answered, ‘once I’m settled through here.’
‘Where are you going to be living?’
‘We’re talking about that at the moment,’ said Susie, with a worldly grin.
We left them to their discussion and went outside, into the night. The drizzle had turned into steady rain, but there was a string of taxis across the street.
‘Have you really got work tonight?’ I asked my wife, half an hour later, as I laid the big square boxes holding our takeaway pizzas on the kitchen counter.
I knew the smile she threw at me. I’d known it since we were sixteen years old. She nodded towards our supper. ‘D’you want that now, or reheated in an hour or so?’
I’ve always liked the word ‘rhetorical’: I was taught the full extent of its meaning by Mrs Janet Blackstone, nee More.
The master bedroom of our apartment is directly above the living space, with the same original windows, reaching down to the floor. All of our curtains were included in the sale price, but those in the bedroom had hardly ever been drawn. It looks out west and south over Glasgow, but its height makes it secluded, so Jan and I very quickly formed the habit of leaving the lights off and the windows uncovered.
We had forgotten all about the pizzas as we lay in bed an hour later, as happy and content as we had ever been in our lives, propped up on pillows, looking out at the traffic flowing across the Kingston Bridge, and at the headlight beams, distorted by the rain on the glass. ‘Dylan isn’t really as bad as all that, you know,’ she murmured, suddenly. Her brown hair had fallen over one eye, as she reached over and traced her index finger down my chest, pausing to flick blue lint from my belly-button. ‘He’s made Detective Inspector, after all.’
I picked up the blob which her probing finger had freed and looked at it. Did you ever wonder why belly-button fluff is always blue? I held it up. ‘He’s got about as much substance as that, my darling.’ I paused as an image formed in my mind. ‘Do you remember Slimey Carmichael?’
She laughed. ‘What, the Head Boy when we were in our fourth year at High School?’
‘That’s right. Since you do, you’ll remember as well that he owed his position to being the biggest brown-tongue in the school. He was a complete tosser at games and in class, but he smarmed up to all the senior teachers, and joined all the right school clubs and societies, so they bought his act.’
‘Don’t knock it, my love.You can get to be Prime Minister that way.’
‘Aye, maybe so. Anyway, Mike’s a bit like him. The first time I met him I thought he was a real high flyer, until I realised it was all hot air. His balloon’s been a bit deflated since then; some of Ricky Ross’s mud splashed on him. I suppose this Glasgow transfer’s a form of rehabilitation.
‘Still,’ I conceded. ‘As you say, when you get to know him he’s not so bad.’
‘Susie thinks so, obviously.’
‘True. She’s a lively wee thing, isn’t she.’
Jan nodded, as she slid down from her pile of pillows, fitting herself alongside me. ‘I wonder what her problem is?’ she mused.
‘Who says she’s got one?’ I slid down beside her.