Lunching at Laura's

Home > Other > Lunching at Laura's > Page 27
Lunching at Laura's Page 27

by Claire Rayner


  If she lets you, his inner and very sardonic voice murmured, if she’ll let you. Last night she was far from keen on you, wasn’t she? Seemed distinctly to dislike you. What d’you think will change that?

  ‘Hello Elena!’ Alex’s voice came up the stairs before he did. ‘As delicious as ever. Come and be kissed.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Horvath,’ the small woman said equably and led him to the table where Joel sat waiting. ‘Your guest is here.’

  ‘Meet Joel Coplin of City,’ Alex said and sat down as Elena shook hands with Joel. ‘Make eyes at him. He’ll be tomorrow’s Steven Spielberg.’

  ‘Today’s Mr. Coplin seems fine to me,’ Elena said and deftly set a menu in front of him and Joel thought again – Laura’s like that. Unruffled, no matter what people say, copes with all sorts of idiots. Wonderful Laura –

  ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ Alex said. ‘I was a touch bent when I got up, I must confess, but there’s nothing wrong with me a decent lunch won’t cure. Elena! – a bottle of –’

  ‘Perrier,’ Joel said firmly and looked at Alex with his brows slightly lifted and after a moment Alex laughed and looked shamefaced, in a knowingly beguiling manner, and said, ‘Right, Perrier.’

  ‘A wise choice,’ Joel murmured and returned to the menu and Alex snickered and did the same.

  When they’d ordered, Alex leaned back in his chair and looked around. ‘Do you ever get the impression that all people do in this tangle of streets we call Soho is eat? Nothing but restaurants.’

  ‘A few other places as well,’ Joel said. ‘Sex shops, for example – I want to include them in my film too.’

  ‘Then it’s Preston you’ll need,’ Alex said at once. ‘He never admits it but the general feeling is he owns most of the places around here – whoever has his name on the lease – the ones that make money that is. Very canny man. Offered me a job once –’ He reflected for a moment. ‘But it wasn’t quite my style.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Minder to a bunch of tarts? Decidedly no, ducky.’

  Joel lifted his brows at him. ‘Do you have to be so camp? I thought that was getting a touch out of date.’

  Alex gave a mock wince. ‘Touche! Perhaps it is time I altered my style, at that. I do it to make people notice me, of course. Don’t we all? It’s not easy being an actor,’ he sighed gustily. ‘Getting the attention of the people with jobs in their gift – that’s the real talent. You can’t sit at home waiting for the National to ring and beg you to come and do your Hamlet, can you? If I wait for that, I’ll still be waiting when all I’m fit for is Lear. So –’ He shrugged. ‘A touch of the outrageous. It seems to help.’

  ‘Some directors might find it a turn off,’ Joel said.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Not particularly.’

  ‘There you are then. It’s worth it. And you’ve noticed me, admit it.’

  ‘I could hardly fail. You were with Laura last night.’

  There was a little silence and then Alex said, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I think I was rather rude to you last night. About Laura. You do like her, don’t you?’

  Joel sat and looked at his plate for a long moment and then lifted his chin and looked at the other man. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘A great deal.’

  ‘Oh, shit! And there was I making awful jokes about fancying her – and – look, if you really – I mean, she’s quite a lady, my sister.’

  Joel smiled faintly. ‘I rather think I’ve noticed that.’

  ‘And she’s had enough hurt for one week, thanks. That shit, Cord –’ Alex’s fists tightened and seeing the tense knuckles on the tablecloth Joel suddenly felt a great warmth for him. ‘If anyone ever hurt her like that again, I’d –’

  ‘Me too,’ Joel said and Alex’s knuckles relaxed.

  ‘That’s all right then,’ he said lightly and laughed. ‘Bless our little cotton socks, aren’t we getting serious! And if it’s serious stuff you want to talk about, let’s talk about the most serious thing in this whole world. Little Alex Horvath’s career. When do I start work for you?’

  ‘One thing at a time,’ Joel said easily. ‘Now we’re talking about Laura, let’s go on for a while. Tell me about her.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘That’s a tall order. And not, at the same time. I mean, bless her, she’s the restaurant, you know. Nothing else really. That’s what made me so angry. To the best of my knowledge Cord’s the first chap she ever – I don’t think she’s ever had an affair before. Not that I’d know for sure, of course. She’s not the sort to advertise the facts of her private life in The Times, but as far as I know – Always too busy, you see, and too tied up with the family. Looked after my parents till they died, and old Uncle Istvan too, and helps Paul with Anya Zsuzske – if he has to work away from home she stays at his place and takes care of the old lady and arranges for someone to go in while she’s at the restaurant – it all makes her sound so dull, doesn’t it? But she isn’t.’

  ‘You’re preaching to the converted.’

  ‘When I knew I was gay, I was just a kid. Fourteen, fifteen. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it – I mean, Hungarians? They invented the machismo bit, never mind the bloody Spaniards. As far as my family were concerned, gay was like dead. But Laura –’ He smiled then, a secret little smile that made his face look even younger. ‘She saved my sanity. And the family’s. They take it all for granted now. Not like poor old Paul –’ He whistled then. ‘What happened to him, poor darling! Mind you, it turned out all right, in the end, but it was rough –’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘His dad suspected he was gay. And there was all hell let loose.’

  ‘What sort of hell?’

  ‘It was all a bit before my time, to tell the truth – but I’ve heard the stories. When the old lady died – my great grandmother, Maritza – then the restaurant had to be shared out. It had been hers, after the old man, Viktor, died, but now there was this Family Trust that came in. A share to all of the children, that was the thing. There were great dramas about it, so Timothy told me – he’s my brother. We don’t see a lot of him now he’s got married and has a houseful of kids, but we used to be quite close and he always had a great thing about family history. Knew everything. It seemed that after she died, Paul’s father found out that the poor chap was gay and went meshuggah. Potty. Bananas. Up the wall.’ He grinned. ‘Wish I’d seen it. But there it is, too young. Anyway, he did the classic thing. Cut off the lad without the proverbial bob. So Anya Zsuzske, who was always a goer from all accounts, she retaliated. Told him if he insisted on leaving his little all – and it was a hell of little all, seeing he was a diamond merchant – to the stuffed shirts – have you ever met my cousins Freddy and Leonard? Don’t. It’s no wonder poor old Paul chose to be bent with brothers like that. Anyway, Anya Zsuzske said, you give it all to those two, I give all mine to Paul. And damn me, that’s what she did. So Paul, you see, had a quarter of the restaurant. Nice story, isn’t it? Nice to see the lad get something, even though his father was such a shit.’

  He looked reflective then, as though a new idea had come to him. ‘Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to blackmail Paul? If he had that to put up with from his own dad, it’s obvious he’d move heaven and earth to keep the facts about himself from everyone else. He’s always covering up. Takes women out –’ And he grimaced and drank some of his Perrier water. ‘It’s all a bit sad. I may be camp, but I’m not pathetic.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Joel said. ‘And that does explain a lot about Paul. Who owns the rest of the place? If Paul has a quarter –’

  ‘Ah well, Laura has a quarter. Our quarter, that is. The share inherited from our grandmother. She was Magda. Heard of Magda?’

  ‘I think so,’ Joel said cautiously. ‘Laura mentioned her back in the days when we were talking.’

  ‘You’ll talk again,’ Alex said cheerfully.
‘Anyway, her share came to us three. My Uncle Zolly, the younger one, was killed in the war. Pilot, I believe. So it all went to our parents, Tibor and Louisa. And when Dad died, it came to us.’ He looked a little haunted suddenly. ‘It was a bad time, then, when he died. A bad time. All the changes and the fuss. It wasn’t all that long since Grandpa Zolly had died, you see. Not all that long. It made us all feel –’ He shrugged. ‘I ran a bit wild.’

  ‘Wild?’

  ‘Drank too much. Played around a bit with coke, one or two little things like that. Laura was – she was magic.’

  ‘Was she?’ Joel said gently but the fountain of talk had trickled to a stop and after a while he said; prompting carefully, ‘So then what happened to the restaurant?’

  ‘Mmm? Oh, I gave Laura my share. Not gave, actually. She’d helped me out so much I insisted she buy it. At a fair price to her. And then Timmy sold her his share because he wanted to buy a house in leafy Edgware, the wally. He got a good price for his. So,’ he shrugged. ‘So, Laura owns a quarter. And if there were any justice, then she’d have the lot.’

  ‘Who has got it?’

  ‘Mmm?’ It was clear Alex was getting bored now. He had thumped a large scrapbook on to the table with a rather ostentatious gesture and Joel put a hand on it.

  ‘I’ll look in a moment, I promise. But I want to know about the restaurant. For my film. And since I’m thinking of you to do the voice over and the interviews –’

  Alex’s face caught fire. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. Just give me a little more information. You’ve accounted for half the property. Who has the rest?’

  ‘Oh, Uncle Istvan’s lot, for a start. I think it’s been shared between – let me see, there’s Aunt Evelyn, the horrendous old spinster – honestly, the way she goes on and the way the others go on about her you’d think it was the end of the world that she’s never been fucked.’ He laughed. ‘Maybe it is at that. I’d not like it if people could say it about me.’ He shook his head and then, catching Joel’s eye said hurriedly, ‘And she shares it with her brother’s wife. That’s Aunt Dolly. Oh, a goer is Aunt Dolly. Spends every penny she can get out of her old man at Harrods. Amazing lady. She got her share of the last quarter from him, I think. Steven. That’s the English of Istvan, did you know that?’

  ‘So Istvan had only two children? Evelyn and Steven?’ Joel was making notes of all this in his small notebook, scribbling industriously.

  ‘No, there’s another one. Daniel. A sinner, like poor old Paul. No, not gay. He was just randy. Women though. He screwed so many of the local girls they packed him off to Australia. His father gave him a share of money and off he went. And I hear the jammy devil married money and is worth a fortune now. Just shows you, doesn’t it? Anyway, when Uncle Istvan died his will said he’d given enough cash to Daniel in his life time, so his share of the restaurant was for the other two. So there you have it.’

  Joel stared down at his fingers. ‘No I haven’t. That accounts for three quarters if your Aunts Dolly and Evelyn share a quarter – they have an eighth each. Who has the other quarter?’

  Alex looked doubtful for a moment and then his face cleared. ‘Oh, yes, of course. That’s Ilona’s.’

  ‘Who is she? In the family, I mean?’

  ‘She’s the granddaughter of the last of the original four, Kati, it was. I think. Yes, that’s it, Kati.’ He laughed again. ‘How could I forget? It was awful when Ilona’s father died, my old Uncle Gyorgy. She was close on forty then, Ilona, when he died, I mean. And like the good Hungarian he is, he provided in his will for his children according to their needs. Because her sister was suitably married and her brother was doing very nicely being a doctor, and she was still a pathetic spinster – that Hungarian horror – he left her all his inheritance from Kati. Her only daughter was his wife you see – she was called Ilona, too – so there it was. Poor Ilona labelled useless for everyone to tut over. It’s a nasty business, family life, isn’t it?’

  ‘Told in these terms I suppose it is,’ Joel said. ‘So, Ilona –’ He stopped then and said carefully, ‘Is she still a spinster?’ He thought he knew who she was but he needed confirmation.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Alex sounded surprised. ‘I assumed you knew – she married the egregious Philip Cord. He’s fifteen years younger than she is, and everyone pursed their lips and gossiped like the devil when she married him but she won in the end. Got her man – and her share of the loot.’

  ‘So Philip Cord owns a quarter of the restaurant,’ Joel said slowly and lifted his brows at Alex.

  ‘No, his wife does –’ Alex stopped then. ‘I mean damn it, it’s been a long time since a man took over his wife’s property automatically, hasn’t it? It’s hers, surely?’

  ‘With a husband like that?’

  ‘You could be right. Look, dear man, I don’t want to seem disagreeable, but really must we go on and on about all this? You can’t tell me you’re going to shove all this in your film.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Joel said. But, he thought, it’s to do with Laura. Anything to do with Laura and I want to know it. Every little detail fascinates me. And this latest one is the most interesting of all. Philip Cord has his hands on a quarter of her restaurant through his wife. That could mean problems for her. That could mean she needs someone to keep an eye on things for her. And who better than me? With Alex’s help – and he grinned at Alex and held out one hand.

  ‘Let’s see it, then. Your scrapbook. Let’s see what sort of work you’ve done, and talk about what you might be able to do in the future.’ And Alex, happy at last, opened it on the table between them.

  27

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ Laura said, trying to sound as reasonable as she could. ‘If the only way you can reveal the damage is by doing more damage that could let something get in here, how can it be regarded as a health hazard?’

  ‘The law is the law, Miss Horvath,’ Hersh said. He was sweating, his face damp and greasy in the bright lights of the kitchen. ‘If there’s any way that infestation can be caused, then the problem has to be put right. It’s the law.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Look, Mr. Hersh. You tell me that behind those tiles which are wall to wall, floor to ceiling, and uncracked and undamaged and properly grouted as you can see, you tell me that behind all that there could be cracks in the wall? And that could allow cockroaches and other things to get in and –’

  ‘Yes,’ he said and his gaze shifted as she stared at him, so that he was staring owlishly at the wall in front of which they were all standing, he and Laura and Angie, in a row.

  ‘But nothing can get in!’ Laura said. ‘Look at those tiles, Mr. Hersh. How could any creature get past those tiles?’

  ‘It’s not for me to say, Miss Horvath. It’s the law.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mr. Hersh, this is ridiculous! You might as well say that the floor might fall in and therefore I have to pull that up just in case –’

  ‘If I believed there could be structural faults to the floor then I could ask you to do that,’ Hersh said woodenly and ducked his head to look at the folder of papers he held in his hand. ‘You can see for yourself. Here’s the Act, and if you look at this section, subsection C –’

  ‘I have no doubt it is the law,’ she said and it was hard work not to shout at him. Keeping her tone reasonable and relaxed was becoming a very difficult thing to do. ‘None at all. But it’s all a matter of – interpretation. As an inspector, it’s up to you to decide whether the law’s being broken. And for some mad reason you say it is, when it’s obvious to anyone that it isn’t –’

  ‘It is not obvious!’ Hersh said loudly and lifted his head. His face looked as greasy as ever but there were patches of red on his cheeks, uneven and ugly. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m – that I’m behaving in any way improperly? Because if you are, then –’

  ‘No, no,’ Laura said pacifically and put out a hand towards him. ‘I’ve known you too long, Mr. Hersh. We all have. I’m jus
t saying I don’t understand why, all of a sudden, when there’s nothing changed about the place, you’re being so – such a purist. I dare say you’re right. The walls here may be less stout than they should be. The building’s old, after all. Eighteenth century – of course it’s a bit rickety. But I do all I can to keep it in good heart! The panelling upstairs, all stripped and polished and the cellars treated for woodworm and shored up with new timbers and down here in the kitchen, all the tiling – I had it all done by the best people and you can see it’s as good as the day it was put in, only two years ago. I got in the best quality work I could find. Whatever state the walls are in under them, that can’t affect the cleanliness or safety of this kitchen –’

  ‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t perfect,’ Angie growled. ‘Twenty years you’ve known me, Mr. Hersh, and you know that for a fact. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t perfect. I’m known for it, perfection –’

  Hersh snapped shut his folder of papers and turned to go. ‘Can’t help how long I’ve known you,’ he said, still wooden. ‘Law’s the law. And I tell you that these tiles have got to come off and the wall underneath has got to be shored up. Work has got to start within a reasonable space of time or I close you down till it’s done.’

  There was a shocked silence and then Laura said blankly, ‘Close us down?’

  ‘I have the right under the law. Public health risk. I am the representative of the public on this matter. I have the right under the law,’ the man gabbled and Angie shouted, ‘This is crazy!’

  ‘Calling me names, Mr. Alzano? Are you suggesting that –’

  ‘Now I know he’s crazy!’ Angie roared. ‘Twenty years I been Angie, now all of a sudden I’m Mr. Alzano? Crazy.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Laura said. ‘It’s impossible – I’ll appeal. Get another opinion from a different inspector.’

  ‘It won’t make any difference,’ Hersh said. ‘I have the authority to close you down here and now if I believe there is a health risk. You’d stay closed while waiting for your appeal to be sorted out. You know that – you’ve got your copy of the rules, haven’t you?’

 

‹ Prev