[2014] Looking for Leon

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[2014] Looking for Leon Page 36

by Shirley Benton


  Philippe smiled. “And will you be returning ’ere with the car or dropping it off in a branch closer to the Canyon?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Depends on the outcome, I suppose.”

  His face softened. “What I was really asking you, Andee, is when I will see you again. Or if I will.”

  I jumped off the desk and ran over to hug Philippe.

  “You know what, Philippe – right now I have no idea where all of this is going, where I’ll end up, what I’ll be doing this time tomorrow. But one thing I do know is that you’re a great friend, and regardless of what happens, you and I will be staying in touch.” And I meant it, too. Philippe had a heart of gold.

  He patted me on the back when the hug finally ended. “We ’ad better. And if you ’ave any problems at all, you ring me. It gives me something to do, your problem portfolio. I might even have to work now that you’re leeving. That would be ’orrible.”

  I smiled as I walked away. When I took one final look back, I saw him wiping his eyes. Great. Now I was making grown men cry.

  Chapter Forty-one

  I spent the drive to the Canyon swinging between memories of the last time I’d travelled this road to Hoover Dam with Colm, and thinking out how I’d go about looking for him. I really didn’t know where I would start – I just knew that the Canyon was the only hope I had of finding him. I fought down the voice in my head telling me there was no sense at all to what I was doing. That voice had been getting louder since I noticed the red Alfa Romeo Spider sitting pretty on the forecourt when I went to collect my hired car, but I was trying my very best not to listen to it. He probably just wanted to try out another car, that was all. But if I stopped what I was doing, then I would have no plan at all, and that thought terrified me much more than being wrong.

  I landed at the hotel just after three o’clock. It was perfectly located just beside the north rim of the canyon. The joys of travelling in low season meant that when I checked in, I was told that my room would have stunning panoramic views of “the vast depths of the Canyon”. The place was falling down around itself, but it was exactly Colm’s style, and I felt closer to him just by being in such a place.

  I plastered my biggest smile on my face as the hefty receptionist handed the big heavy key to my room to me. “Could you tell me if you have a Colm Cannon staying here at the moment?”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Oh, I’m afraid some guests like to keep their whereabouts to themselves, madam. We like to respect that.”

  She certainly was discreet. She must have recognised my name (the whole of the US did by this time to say nothing of just Arizona) but she had made no comment.

  “Yes, I understand. But . . .”

  I launched into my story, and the lady – Cassie, according to her nametag – nodded, frowned and smiled at all the right places. She peppered my dialogue with uh-huhs and oh mys, patting her permed hair occasionally.

  “That’s quite a tale, young lady.” She smiled widely.

  I congratulated myself for having connected with her.

  “Yes, and that’s why I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out here.”

  “You know, I’d absolutely love to.” She titled her head to one side and smiled beatifically.

  “Great!”

  The smile vanished. “But I can’t. As I explained, it’s a matter of client confidentiality.”

  Someone had been watching too many legal dramas. She smiled again but the look in her eyes told me that I would be getting nowhere. I wondered whether she was another ardent Leon fan like Nicole and whether that was affecting her behaviour. I said thanks as sarcastically as I could and made my way up to my room, resolving to ask another member of staff later.

  As soon as I’d deposited my luggage in my room – a rainbow of multicoloured bedspreads, blue curtains and wine carpets – I went back downstairs to check the facilities for any sign of Colm. Cassie threw a look my way as I passed through Reception on my way to the dining room. She narrowed her already squinty eyes when she saw me, as if to warn me not to even try her again. It didn’t matter – I would knock on every door of the hotel to see if Colm was in any of them if I had to. Cassie had no idea what she was up against with me.

  I walked around the restaurant and the bar, but there was no sign of Colm. That was pretty much the extent of the facilities, so I wandered back out to Reception, trying to decide what my next move would be. Cassie was tapping behind her desk, yawning, as I passed by again. I figured her shift would be finishing up soon, if her tired face was anything to go by. I’d noticed when speaking to her that her heavily caked make-up had started to fade around her eyes, and her lipstick had vanished completely – all that remained was the outline of her lip pencil. I’d work on her replacement then.

  I briefly considered setting off a fire alarm to get Cassie out from behind the reception desk so that I could check the room records, but had enough sense to realise that if I didn’t start growing up, I’d end up with a criminal record. That was something the old Andie would do, the Andie who couldn’t face up to the hard stuff. The new Andie was going to start doing things the mature way like every other grown-up. She was going to go to the bar and have a drink.

  Things suddenly seemed much better with a frozen margarita in my hand. They mustn’t have looked that way, though.

  “Excuse me, darlin’, but I couldn’t help noticing that you don’t look too happy. Anything we can help you with?”

  A lady with a Southern accent and a kindly face was looking over at me. Behind her, a husband and three children were peering over too.

  “I’m fine, but thank you for asking.” I smiled back as genuinely as I could. She didn’t seem nosy – more the mammy-hen type, which was quite nice in my book. I really didn’t feel like telling my story yet again though.

  “You coming on this four o’clock tour?”

  I shook my head. It was only then that I noticed their backpacks under the table, no doubt bulging with mammy sandwiches and two-litre bottles of drinks.

  “Maybe you should. You look at a loose end.”

  “I can’t. I’m hoping to meet someone tonight.”

  “But the tour is only two hours, so you’d be back in time.”

  I hadn’t expected that answer – the bags suggested they were going away for several years. I thought about it. There was no sign of Cassie making a move, and it would take me the guts of two hours to go knocking on every door in the hotel anyway. Besides, I’d probably still be sitting in the bar in two hours’ time trying to work out what else I was going to do to find Colm, and still be none the wiser, so I might as well do something worthwhile. Waiting for someone else to come on duty was the only plan I had.

  Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on the bus beside one of the kind lady’s children, a monosyllabic eleven-year-old called Agatha. The kind lady herself was called Charlotte. She’d got a good deal in the world of names, so I thought it was rather mean of her and her husband – Jack, another inoffensive name – to saddle their child with a burden of a moniker like Agatha. Possibly not so kind.

  Luckily, none of the family seemed to recognise me so I could relax on that count.

  The tour was a helicopter trip over the Grand Canyon. Strangely enough, I’d never had one single thought about seeing the place itself as I drove out – it was just the place where I hoped Colm would be, nothing more and nothing less. But boy, was I glad I hadn’t wasted the opportunity to see the Canyon. After we were picked up at our hotel, we were brought to the Grand Canyon National Park Airport for check-in. Only minutes later, we were sitting on a helicopter that would take us on a sixty-minute panoramic tour. As I looked out the window at the Kaibab Plateau and forest in the heart of the Canyon’s vast, endless depths, the beauty of the vista before me wiped all of my troubles out of my mind for a few precious minutes. The Colorado River glistened up at me as it wound its way far below. It almost looked as if it was winking at me, giving
me a sign that everything was going to turn out okay . . . or perhaps that margarita had been a strong one. Our guide peppered the beautiful sights with facts and figures about the canyon’s geologic history. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, and for the first time I really understood why Colm was so anxious to spend time here and really see it properly.

  When we returned to the hotel, exactly two hours after we’d left it, Cassie was still sitting behind the reception desk. She now looked like a pudding that had been left out on a dinner table for too long and was slowing melting and congealing. Her make-up had completely disappeared at this stage, and her perm had flattened and was sticking to her head, despite the air con. She suddenly whipped out a make-up bag and started to repair her face, as if she had read my thoughts. To my surprise, she looked up in the middle of her plastering and smiled at me. I gave her a reluctant smile back, wondering if she was taking the mick – but, in fairness, it looked genuine enough. Maybe she was feeling bad about refusing to help earlier.

  I declined the kind lady’s kind offer to have dinner with her and her family. It looked like I was going to be busy knocking on doors for the rest of the evening. As I bade the family goodbye, I felt a sense of dread as I thought of the hours ahead of me. I was as moorless as a boat in the middle of the ocean. Of all the crazy things that had happened to me in the past few months, this was the most extreme in its lack of foresight. At least before, there was some plan, some aim behind my actions – it all went towards finding Leon. Now, I was in a place that Colm could possibly be in, but might not be. If I got through the door-knocking experience without dying of humiliation, what happened then? I had absolutely nothing else to go on.

  I took a shower, then decided to go for a walk – ostensibly to think, but I knew I was just procrastinating. But what if I knocked on the door of a serial killer? Or someone thumped me because I’d interrupted them getting lucky?

  I sighed. The whole thing was ridiculous. I was trying to move away from acting the eejit, after all. There was no way I could do it. But what would I do instead?

  Music drifted towards me from the bar – U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name” – and I was drawn to it. I went to the bar and ordered a glass of water to clear my head. The bar was a mixture of high tables and chairs, long, sprawling tables for groups, comfy couches and corner booths. I spotted an available booth to the left of the bar, headed over and sank into it. The curved edges of the booth completely obscured my view of the rest of the bar, which suited me fine. The last thing I needed now was any distractions when I had so much to think about.

  Suddenly, the music changed to something much slower – something else that I recognised.

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  I put my arms on the table and rested my head on them. Why was God taunting me? As the opening cords of Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here’ filled the room, I couldn’t stop tears running down my cheeks and onto my arms. It was like a sign that things with Colm were over for good.

  The tears escalated into great big heaving sobs that wracked my whole body. Within about twenty seconds, I felt someone touch my shoulder.

  “Please leave me alone,” I said into my arms, hoping that whoever it was would just go away.

  “You still don’t like Pink Floyd, then, judging by the effect they’re having on you. After all my hard work . . .”

  I whipped my head up. Colm was standing beside me, smiling shyly.

  I bounded out of the booth and threw myself into his arms. He clasped his arms around me and buried his head in my neck, squeezing me tight and holding me as if he never wanted to let go.

  Eventually, we drew apart.

  “I knew you were here somewhere!” I said.

  “Oh, did you now?”

  “Yes! It was the only thing that made sense! Well, thank God I have my instincts to fall back on, that’s all I can say – I knew if I relied on them I’d find you!”

  He smiled sympathetically. “Sorry to burst your faith in your instincts, but I actually wasn’t here. I left the hotel this morning with the intention of renting a car and just driving off into the desert somewhere, but in the end I couldn’t leave the place I thought you were. I spent this morning circling the streets of Vegas, trying to decide what to do about us, then I went back to the MGM to talk to you. The minute I walked through Reception, Philippe jumped on me and told me you’d come here.”

  Philippe. Darling, darling Philippe. He’d be getting a trip to Paris on me after this.

  We slid side by side into the booth and I snuggled up to him.

  “But why didn’t you call?” I asked.

  “I wanted to surprise you.” Colour rose on his cheeks. “And I thought the first conversation we had after everything that’s happened should be face to face, and not over the phone.” He kissed my cheeks. “But now that you’re here in front of me, talking isn’t actually what I want to do at all – but I’ll try to behave. Anyway, I went around the corner and got the car we brought to Hoover Dam. I got here and checked in and the minute I said my name was Colm, Cassie in Reception said to me ‘Are you Andie’s Colm?’ The relief I felt! I was also startled by ‘Andie’s Colm’ – it’s always been ‘Andie’s Leon’, you see. Anyway, as soon as Cassie explained that you’d told her about us, she said she’d seen you going on a tour earlier and would be happy to ring me when you arrived back. She did and I’ve been sitting over at the other side of the bar ever since – I knew you’d come in here eventually. I hadn’t expected you to be drinking water, though – that was a bit of a shocker.”

  “I know – I can’t even use alcohol as an excuse for the tears!”

  We laughed, but then Colm’s face turned serious. “Andie, I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have.”

  “Where did you go? You just vanished.”

  “I went to stay at a cheap hotel downtown – but without actually checking out of the MGM. Getting a hotel wasn’t as easy as it sounds, seeing as I’d forgotten that you’ve had my passport since the night of the dinner date – but one eventually let me check in with my driver’s licence as ID. Actually, my first thought after we fought was to go straight to the airport and go home, until I remembered where my passport was, but then I realised anyway I couldn’t run away. I’ve spent my life running, and it has to stop. But I needed some time to think, Andie. I knew if I stayed in the MGM, I’d be tempted to call to you to try to sort things out. I needed to put some physical distance between us.”

  “But didn’t you realise I would be worried sick?”

  “If I’m honest, I hoped you would be . . . I know it’s awful, but I was testing you. I wanted to see what lengths you’d go to in order to find me. You were happy to do whatever it took to find Leon, and I needed to know if that was the case for me too. I’m sorry, Andie – I know I have no right to play God. But you kept the truth from me, and that hurt me so much. I was so angry that you hadn’t been honest with me, and it clouded my judgement – and what was even worse was the feeling that I was just a pet project for you, something you needed to use to get you through whatever this Elaine situation is. But after mulling it over all day Thursday and Friday, I eventually came to my senses and realised I wasn’t being fair – I didn’t even listen to your explanation. Just when I was ready to climb down off my high horse, though, I turned on the news and found out that Leon had been located, and that he’d died. That was a shocker, I can tell you.”

  “I figured you would have heard. But when you didn’t get in contact with me . . .” I trailed off. “I didn’t know what to think.”

  “I tried, believe me. The second I heard about Leon, I went straight to the MGM and called to your room – but you must have left for the funeral by then. I scoured the place for Philippe to try to get some info – you always said he was the man in the know – but he was nowhere to be seen.”

  “But why didn’t you ring me?”

  “Frankly, I was afraid of how you might react. It seemed better to talk to you
face to face. And so . . .”

  “So?”

  Colm had gone a peculiar shade of red. “Okay. I was trying to suss out if you knew what came next, but I’m thinking you don’t. Am I right?”

  “Colm, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m right.” He nodded. “Shit.”

  “You’re starting to freak me out . . .”

  “I was at the funeral, Andie. I found out the details from Leon’s local newspaper and I went.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I had to be there in case you needed me. The last thing I wanted was to be disrespectful to Leon, so I made sure to keep my distance from you in the church out of respect to his family – but I just couldn’t stay completely away from you when something like this had happened. And, as I said, I was hoping we might be able to have a word after the funeral, but it didn’t work out that way.”

  “I can’t believe you were there and I didn’t notice you!” I threw my arms around him. “But why were you worried about telling me that? That was such a sweet thing to do . . .”

  “There’s more.”

  I removed my arms from around him while I waited for him to elaborate.

  “Those bastards outside the church were like vultures, taking pictures of you and Leon’s family. I was standing near one of them, waiting for an opportunity to catch your eye, when he started roaring your name and papping furiously. I just saw red, and told him to leave you alone if he wanted to see his next birthday. He responded by transferring his camera to one hand, and decking me full force with the other, then turning around and papping away again as if nothing had happened. So I’d no choice but to bury a fist in his stomach.”

  “I don’t believe it . . . you hit the photographer?”

  “Yeah, that would have been me.”

  “Did you get in trouble with the police?”

  “Nope. Luckily, the idiot that hit me had enemies. He started ranting on about how he’d have me up for assault, but then a few journalists from a rival newspaper came over and said they saw how your man had hit me first, and they’d be happy to tell the police just that if vulture boy wanted to get them involved. The story made the paper, but things didn’t go any further than that.”

 

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