by Colin Davy
“But I thought you might be annoyed with me.”
Probably so, he thought, and he felt guilty suddenly. She might be genuinely in trouble with no one else to turn to. “No,” he said. “I wasn’t feeling well on Sunday, so I might have been abrupt.”
“Oh!” She sounded upset. “Are you feeling better yet?”
“A little.” He did feel much better, but a mystery illness might come in handy if he wanted to cut any visit short.
“You will feel better soon,” she said. “Now you’re embracing your destiny.”
Has he misheard? “Eh? Sorry?”
“You’re embracing your destiny,” she said.
“My destiny?”
“Yes, your fate. Undercurrents and undertows exist, and trying to swim against them is foolish. Once you take heed, you’ll feel an immediate lift.”
He sighed. More likely, it was the ibuprofen he’d taken before he met Scott and Sophie, but he gave what he thought was a reassuring smile even if it was wasted over the phone. He decided to say nothing for now.
“This is such a relief,” she said. “I felt an extreme longing for you,” she continued. “I expect you felt it too.”
Uh-oh. He glanced away in embarrassment. The garden acted like a natural heat trap and he felt the sweat standing out on his forehead. “Erm … well …”
“You did?”
“You’re an attractive girl,” he began, glancing round to see if anyone else was nearby. She’d gone full-on peculiar, and he needed to escape fast. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be brutal. He’d always been a soft shite at heart, he decided.
“When and where shall we meet?” she said. “I can be in Liverpool tonight.”
“No,” he said. “There’s no need. I’ll drive up …” he considered his options. Thursday? That sounded far enough off. Time enough to fabricate a convenient excuse. By then, she might even get the message.
“Tonight?” she asked.
“I can’t,” he said. “Business.”
“Oh!”
“I can make tomorrow,” he said. “But only if I cancel some things. Can I call you tomorrow to confirm?”
There was a short silence. “Please,” she said. “You don’t know how much this means to me.” It was a heartfelt plea.
That was the problem, he thought, but he didn’t like the sound of her now. Although he’d eliminated the chance of her being a sex-worker, he now considered her seriously flaky. Sorry, Sophie, he thought, this is one girl he’d unload as fast as possible. “I wish I could,” he said. “But tonight’s absolutely impossible, but don’t worry, I’ll confirm a date and tine as soon as I can.”
Before she could reply, he cut the connection and turned off the phone.
In the street outside, the air felt a fraction cooler, but there was no let-up in the humidity. Even in a light t-shirt, he felt the sweat run down his back on the five-minute walk to his flat. As he approached his street, he saw, in front of the small archway leading to the flats, two women engaged in animated conversation. Walking nearer, his stomach lurched.
The red-haired woman who had her back turned looked remarkably like the girl he’d given a lift to at the weekend. Was she preying on his mind? She was listening to a dark-haired woman about the same age and height, and even from this distance she looked a real stunner. But it was only when the red-haired girl turned her head, he knew for sure. She was the same girl he’d recently spoken to.
On the phone in the beer garden, and only five minutes before.
Chapter Three
It was too late to back away as she’d already seen and recognised him. He could only stride on and bluff it out. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but It came out more harshly than he intended, and she began to flush. “You caught me by surprise,” he added.
“It’s nice to see you too, Gary.” Her eyes flashed either amusement or anger. “I’m visiting my sister – the one I told you about.” At least today she had a flush of colour in her cheeks. She sounded embarrassed too, as well she might. Although it was remotely possible this visit had tweaked her memory and reminded her to phone him, he remained sceptical. He suspected she’d planned things carefully.
“Is this your sister?” he asked.
Maria nodded. “My twin sister,” she said. “Her names Deborah.”
When the dark-haired girl pushed her way towards him and turned on a three-kilowatt smile, he made sure to concentrate on her face rather than her large and barely-covered breasts. Although the dark-blue dress, made of a soft material that clung to the curves of her body, extended as far as her knees, it made amends at the top by exposing and pinching her breasts together. A large silver button below the vee seemed to direct any eyes not already focussed there.
Very impressive but very disconcerting.
Her dark hair, parted in the middle, extended down both sides to almost breast level, and her dark eyes embellished with mascara, gave her an exaggerated resemblance to an attractive witch, so beloved of old horror films - a look she obviously played on. When she leaned forward to grip his hands, she gave him a panoramic view of her cleavage. “It’s lovely to meet you, Gary,” she whispered. Her hands were warm and her welcome warmer.
An American accent, he decided. Similar to her sister’s but more obviously transatlantic. “Nice to meet you too, Deborah.”
Her smile showed no sign of letting up. “You can call me Debbie,” she said. “Maria’s told me so much about you, I feel I already know you.”
“Sorry.” He couldn’t keep the doubt out of his voice. He’d met Maria only once, yet her sister sounded as if she knew his life-history.
“Now, you’re here,” Debbie continued “When are you planning to officially see my gorgeous sister again? I hope you weren’t trying to avoid her.” When her smile became even broader, he decided she was teasing.
“It’s not easy this week,” he said.
She nodded. “I understand you’re a busy man.” Only now did her smile began to waver.
When he turned to see Maria’s reaction, she gave a brief nod, but seeing his look of enquiry, she stepped nearer. By comparison with her sister, she looked like an androgynous teenager; mid-length reddish hair with a tight, white t-shirt covering her slim body and a pair of blue denim jeans. But the pink of her cheeks gave her face a new freshness and her eyes showed more sparkle than they had at the weekend. A depressed woman had been converted into a lively girl. “What number do you live at?” she asked.
Her accent seemed more American now, verging on Californian. Although he stepped back a little, he decided there was little point lying. “Two-five-one,” he said.
Debbie almost squealed with delight “I’m at number two-six-one,” she said. “We’re near neighbours, the least I can do is to invite you to see my flat. To compare and contrast.” When she turned to her sister, her bright smile reappeared. “If Maria has no objections, we can make up a threesome.”
A rhetorical question, he suspected, judging by the way her sister’s eyes lit up. “I don’t mind at all, Debbie,” she said. “He was on his way home anyway, weren’t you, Gary.”
“I was, but …” He was going to say ‘I’m busy because’ and hope to improvise from there, but he’d already hesitated too long.
Debbie also seemed oblivious to any objection and he wondered how he could disengage politely. He couldn’t, he decided, he was trapped now and he knew it. Being a near-neighbour of Debbie’s, he was bound to meet her soon enough, and it would be acutely embarrassing to cry off and try to avoid her. Better see this through and rely on playing the off-colour card if it became awkward.
Maria smiled properly for the first time. “I can spare a few minutes,” she said, her eyes showing amusement at his obvious embarrassment.
I bet you can spare the time, he thought, but at least, she could joke about it. How accidental was this meeting? Difficult to be sure, but he’d play along with the accident theory until proven otherwise. With no further argument,
Debbie led the way through the security barrier, nodding to the security woman and leaving Maria to walk alongside him. A precaution, he suspected, in case he made a run for it.
No, he was being paranoid, but the important advice for Maria looked likely to be put on the back burner with her sister present. In a way, the whole situation intrigued him; rather than being threatening, her sister gave the extra person Sophie had advised, although he doubted Sophie had a pretty girl like Debbie in mind as a go-between.
Climbing past his flat on the mezzanine floor, he carried on up the concrete stairs without pointing it out. Although it wasn’t a secret anymore, he’d feel more comfortable elsewhere. Reaching the next floor, they turned left and waited while Debbie searched for her keys.
Finding them, she unlocked the door and they followed her into a flat almost identical to his own. To the left were a bathroom and bedroom, with a small kitchen alcove in front, and to the right, a sitting room furnished with a thick-pile, lime-green carpet on which sat an armchair and a two-seater settee. The French windows gave a similar view to his own of the docks and the sea beyond it. Composed of four separate windows with only the middle two opening, they looked identical, and they even had the same metre-high and ornate iron lattice to prevent an accidental fall to the docks. They must be directly above his flat, he decided. Why had he never seen her around before? “Have you lived here long?” he asked.
She shook her head, her long hair cascading around her shoulders. “I only moved in recently,” she said. Seeing them hesitate, she motioned with her arm. “Sit down, you two, and make yourself comfortable.” Although she pointed to the two-seater, he settled for the single armchair, leaving the settee opposite for the sisters. While Maria sat down, her sister hurried over to a large mirror on the wall, where she made a play of re-arranging her hair, pulling it back behind her ears and checking on her make-up.
He smiled inwardly. Had Scott been here, his first comment would have been … ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” Faced with any self-respecting mirror, poor Snow White would probably lose out to her dark-haired sister, but he suspected neither woman would appreciate Scott’s film quotations. He’d become bored with them himself.
With a final dab at her hair, Debbie hurried to the kitchen alcove and stared out over the counter. “Drinks?” she asked.
Maria sat up with her hands perched demurely on her knees. “Tea, please, Debs.”
“Coffee for me,” he said, suspecting he needed a clear head.
Debbie leaned back and frowned. “Nothing stronger?”
It was the chance he’d been waiting for, and he shook his head. “I’m not a hundred percent,” he said. “Nothing too much, but …” Setting the scene nicely for an exit whenever he wanted. He hoped so, anyway.
“Oh well,” she said. “Never mind, I’ll have a sherry, a small one. After all, this a house-warming for me. You’re my first ever invited guest, and I’ll rely on you to introduce me to all our neighbours.”
You’ll have a long wait then, he thought. After two years, he only knew the old curmudgeon next door in two-fifty-two who spoke only in monosyllables. “We tend to keep ourselves to ourselves,” he said.
“Oh?” Her look of disappointment looked genuine. “We can change that, can’t we?”
“You can try.”
After filling a kettle, Debbie took the chance to pour some dark liquid into a small glass before joining her sister on the settee. “I’ve met my neighbour next door, but he’s as gay as they come. I even met his boyfriend in a weird pub near the Adelphi. Very nice, he even bought me and my friend a drink.”
“You’re settling in then?” he asked.
“Slowly,” she said. “Now, how did you two meet each other?”
Maria glanced over and waited for Gary to speak. “I gave her a lift back to Southport,” he said.
“Ah, yes, Maz did mention that.” She smiled. “I’m the one to blame for you two meeting.”
“Oh?”
Turning to her sister, she gave Maria a squeeze. In response Maria gave a tight smile but said nothing. “I set her up,” Debbie continued. “With a nice quiet man who arranged a foursome to make it less of an ordeal.” She made a face. “Or so he said, but something went wrong.”
“I doubt there ever was another couple,” Maria said. “Instead of a pleasant dinner party, I was confronted with a man who wanted his own version of a Roman orgy.”
Gary stirred, this might explain her unsettled and unsettling mood on the Sunday morning. “You decided to hitch-hike home on the motorway?”
“I was upset,” she said. “I knew it was probably illegal and possibly dangerous but I was past caring.” She waited, possibly for him to react, but when he didn’t, she carried on. “I prayed for help and once you stopped, I knew my prayers had been answered. You’re the man to advise us.”
Bloody hell, he thought, Scott’s guess had been spot-on. He’d become her knight in shining armour, sent from above rather than from a failed experiment in social media. But she’d said ‘help us’ rather than ‘help me’ so her sister must be trusted now. “You’re American?” he asked.
She shook her head. “America via Australia and before that Poland.”
“I see. How long have you lived in this country?”
“Not long.” At his frown, she glanced towards the balcony, seemingly entranced by the tranquil waters of the docks. Above them, dark clouds had formed and he wondered if a storm was coming.
Debbie leaned forward. “That’s really none of your business,” she said.
Why were they so cagey, he wondered? Were they illegals? “Do you work locally?” he asked.
This time, Maria looked back and replied while Debbie remained silent. “We don’t need to work,” she said. “And I’m choosy about men.” She shook her head. “Last weekend was a mistake but something useful came from it.”
Debbie gave her another hug. “Sorry about that, sis,” she said. “My mistake, I forgot it’s the quiet ones who are the worst.” She turned to face him. “Are you a quiet one, Gary?”
He felt immediately uncomfortable. “I’ve been accused of that before.”
“That explains it.” Leaning forward, Debbie stared into his eyes. “Maria thinks you’re made for each other.”
Maria rose to her feet “I didn’t say that, Debs.” Her voice rose. “I know he’ll play a significant part in my future, that’s all.”
He stirred. “How?”
“I can see the future sometimes,” she said. “Only sometimes, and very faintly, but it always comes true.”
“Very useful,” he said. “When you see the next Derby winner, let me know, I’ll have a few pounds on it.” Although he kept his voice light, she flinched.
“Only vague shadows,” she said. “And never specific, but I knew as soon as I saw you, that you’re here to stay.”
“Hush, Maz,” Debbie said. “You’ll frighten the poor man.”
Maria nodded in response. “Sorry, Gary,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that.” When she looked at him, he felt a shiver despite the high temperature outside.
“That’s all right,” he said. “I’m a Leo if that helps.” It didn’t, she gave a look of dismay before turning back to her sister.
“Never mind all that, sis,” Debbie said. “Just tell him why you want his help.”
She sat back and stared at him. “It’s about … you know, what we discussed over the phone, Gary.”
“Which is?” he asked.
They ignored him at first, but Debbie finally broke the silence. “The Church’s finances” she said.
Maria nodded.
“Why do you need me?” Gary asked.
Maria stared at him for a second. “Because I can sense the future.”
They were going in circles, he thought, but his reply was forestalled by Debbie. “You’ve been told now, Gary, so don’t argue.” Hurrying to the alcove she fiddled with the cups before carrying two
to the coffee table. “You’ll have to forgive us,” she said. “Despite being twins, we sometimes agree.” She gave him her smile again at full voltage. “But not often.”
“Twins?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.”
He smiled back. “I can see the stunning non-resemblance. Fraternal twins, I assume?”
“Yes, we sometimes call ourselves Yin and Yang.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re similar genetically, but opposites in every other way. Not just in appearance, but in attitudes too.” She looked into his eyes and her smile widened. “Saint compared to sinner.”
“Who’s the sinner?”
When Debbie smiled again, he had his answer. “I am,” she said. “But only in comparison to my sister, who gives the impression she’s pure syrup. I’m the gall.”
He smiled back. “You’re French?”
She looked surprised for a second. “No,” she said. “Gall … gee …. a … then double ell. It goes with wormwood and means bitterness of spirit. I thought a bright lad like you would have known.”
He had known, but his joke had fallen flat.
“I wear this dress to annoy Maz sometimes.” she continued.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Because it’s not modest enough.”
She nodded. “Mostly that,” she said. “But Maria also has a thing about buttons.”
“I don’t.” Maria’s voice had an edge of irritation and a slight flush appeared again on her cheeks.
“Oh, yes, you do,” her sister said.
“It’s not a thing as such,” Maria said. “it’s just … I don’t think they’re flattering with a fuller figure.”
There certainly looked to be pressure building on the dress with her sister’s fuller figure, he thought, buttons or not.
When Maria shuffled in her seat and looked uncomfortable, he wondered how much her discomfort was down to sisterly jealousy? After all, Debbie had done nothing but flirt gently with him. He oughtn’t encourage it, but without being rude, there was little he could do. When Maria’s lips tightened, he guessed he’d been right. “Debs exaggerates,” she said. “Her sins are minor.”