Looking at the reflection of his face in the window, it seemed unlikely.
Back in Glasgow, the sounds of the city had died away. A tall man, muffled against the night chill, emerged from the shadows and crossed the street. He paused before knocking, looked up and down the street and rang the bell.
Birgitte’s voice sounded through the intercom. ‘Yes?’
‘Ms von Essendorf. This is Raymond Parrish. I wonder if I could come in for a moment.’
23
The return journey was not so smooth. Strong winds added an extra hour to the flight time and they missed their slot at Croydon. Consequently, it was around mid-morning when Luke and Jane finally returned to the apartment. Only to find Alphonse waiting for them in the foyer and looking very dapper in an overdesigned suit that made him appear to be exactly what he was.
He laid down his newspaper and rose from the armchair. ‘Luke, my dear boy, we missed you at Maisie’s the other night.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Luke, sourly, tired and not in the best mood. ‘I was dragged out of temptation’s way by someone professing to have my best interests at heart.’
‘Anywhere interesting?’ enquired Alphonse, skilfully inserting himself between Jane and Luke.
‘Glasgow,’ said Luke shortly.
Alphonse was severely shocked. ‘Dear boy!’
‘Yeah . . . well . . . What do you want, Alphonse? Got to say I’m not feeling my best at the moment.’
‘No, no, I can see. Take a day, dear boy. Take two. I’ll be in touch.’ His eyes slid sideways to Jane, waiting by the lift. ‘Or perhaps we could meet somewhere . . . discreet.’
Luke scowled at Jane and then back to Alphonse. ‘Yeah, well, if you can arrange something then I’ll be there.’
‘Shall we say lunch tomorrow?’
‘Say anything you like, Alphonse, I don’t really care.’
Alphonse turned slightly so his back was to Jane.
Does he think I can read lips? she thought, wearily.
‘Maxwell’s then,’ he said softly. ‘One o’clock.’
Luke blinked. ‘You’re a member?’
‘No, dear boy, but you are.’
He passed on, nodding at the expressionless concierge on his way out.
Luke joined Jane in the lift.
‘And what did he want?’ she said, with a tartness not al-together assumed.
‘Lunch. Tomorrow. Maxwell’s.’
‘Where’s Maxwell’s?’
‘My club,’ he said shortly, not quite answering the question.
‘Why there?’
‘Two reasons.’ The lift pinged and they exited. ‘No women allowed, so you can’t come. And secondly, and probably as importantly, it gives him an entrée. He can’t get in unless I sign him in, of course, but it gives him something to drop into future conversations.’ He pursed his mouth and mimicked Alphonse’s slightly too refined accents, ‘“As I said to Luke Parrish at Maxwell’s . . . Do you know Maxwell’s at all? Excellent food there and a very passable cellar.” That sort of thing. I probably haven’t done his next victims any favours at all.’
He opened the door and Jane made a mental note that whatever happened, she, personally, would make sure Alphonse was never again in a position to prey on vulnerable young people. Because Luke was vulnerable. Far more so than he realised. She glanced at him, wearily dropping his bag in the hall.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling fine. Everything’s going well, don’t you think?’
As he spoke, he raised his eyes to the ceiling and then back at Jane. Was it possible? she wondered. Could they – whoever they were – actually have taken advantage of their absence to bug the place? The presence of Alphonse downstairs made that very easy to believe. Easy enough to find out if they had a box of Time Police tricks with them, but they didn’t, so it seemed sensible to assume they had.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You’re making excellent progress. I’m very pleased with you. You’re working hard at this, Luke, and deserve success.’
He grimaced at her. ‘I’m for a shower.’
‘I’m for a bacon sandwich,’ said Jane, firmly. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Brilliant idea,’ he said. ‘Make mine crispy.’
‘I am not your housekeeper,’ she shouted after him.
‘And no sauce.’
He slammed his bedroom door and Jane stamped off into the kitchen.
On his return from Maxwell’s the next afternoon, Jane could see immediately that things had gone well.
‘There’s a new place on the river,’ he announced loudly, kicking off his shoes in the certain knowledge the shoe fairy would pick them up later. ‘Well, new to me, anyway. I’ve got us an invite.’
‘What sort of place?’ she asked, raising her eyes from her book. ‘Is it a bar?’
‘King’s Arsenal – heard of it?’
She shook her head.
‘Well, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. One day we must make a list of all the places you haven’t heard of.’
‘When?’
‘As soon as we can’t think of anything better to do.’
She sighed patiently. ‘I meant – when is this invite for?’
‘Tomorrow evening.’
‘Luke – do I have to remind you of the rules? Every week you get one solo session or event or whatever you want to call it and you’ve just had it. At all other times you are to be accompanied. You know that. You agreed to it.’
He sighed impatiently. ‘You’re not listening, Jane. I said “us”.’
‘Oh.’
‘Dinner by the river. Very pleasant. Nice treat for you. Any chance of a coffee?’
‘None whatsoever, I would think,’ she said, turning a page. ‘But you can make me one while you’re at it.’
Alphonse had not just made the reservations at King’s Arsenal – he’d arranged a private water taxi as well.
‘Not the public clipper?’
Luke shook his head. ‘Not for the likes of us, sweetie.’
‘I wish I was rich,’ said Jane, as they made their way down to the river.