Jigsaw Lovers

  ‘Don’t blame her. She explained you didn’t take calls this late, but I insisted she put me through. Anyway I told her it was personal.’

  ‘No problem, Miss Johnston. Always a pleasure to speak to you.’ He tried not to sound too ingratiating, ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m having a few people around to my apartment tomorrow evening for drinks, and I was wondering if you and your wife would care to join us.’ He couldn’t be sure but it almost sounded as though she added ‘and your wife’ as an afterthought. But maybe it was a result of his imagination and wishful thinking.

  ‘That’s very kind.’ He couldn’t believe his ears. ‘I know I can, but I’m not quite sure about Catherine, my wife.’ He hoped he sounded sincere. ‘I’ll have to check with her this evening. Is that all right?’

  ‘That’s perfectly all right. It’s very informal. You’ve helped me so much since I’ve been in Cape Town that I just wanted to say thank you.’

  ‘Oh, just part of the service we give all our customers,’ he lied.

  ‘Then you must have many happy customers.’ She sounded playful. ‘About six-thirty. You know where I live. It’s on the eighth floor. Until tomorrow then. Look forward to seeing you, good-bye.’ She hung up before he could say another word.

  Carol came into his office. ‘I’m sorry about that call, Mr Smith, but she said it was very urgent.’

  ‘That’s quite all right, Carol. You can put Miss Johnston through any time of the day in future.’ This was most unusual. Smith looked at his watch. ‘And Carol, if you’ve finished everything why don’t you go home early today.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Smith. I will. Good-bye.’ As she left she heard him singing to himself. What had Miss Johnston said to him? Whatever it was she hoped she would telephone more often if this was the effect she had on him.

  John Smith arrived at Diana Johnston’s apartment promptly at six thirty. He had been looking forward to the evening all day long. The thought had put him in a good mood for the first time in months. His colleagues were quite surprised at how jolly he had been. One lucky client was amazed at the ease with which he was able to extend his overdraft facility.

  As she opened the oak door her face broke into a large smile when she recognised who it was.

  ‘Mr Smith. I’m so pleased you could come,’ she beamed at him. ‘Your wife?’ she asked, looking over his shoulder, as he walked into the hallway.

  ‘I asked her but I’m afraid she couldn’t make it. It’s the girls’ ballet class this evening.’ He hoped she wouldn’t pick up the lie. He’d told his wife that he had to attend a foreign exchange conference, which seemed quite plausible considering the unpredictable fluctuations in the currency markets at the time.

  Smith found it difficult not to stare at her. She was looking particularly attractive, dressed in a simple beige calf-length cashmere dress that hugged the contours of her slim figure. She was obviously wearing very little beneath it. It also emphasised the richness of her suntan and her blue eyes sparkled with just a hint of eye-shadow. She wore a plain gold necklace and matching ear-rings. The effect on Smith was devastating.

  He saw her notice his gaze. Lowering his eyes and feeling somewhat embarrassed he mumbled, ‘What a lovely dress.’

  ‘Why thank you. Do you like it? I found it in Paris last year.’

  Gathering his composure Smith returned to safer ground. ‘My word, Miss Johnston, this is a delightful flat,’ he said as he looked around.

  The wide hallway led past two rooms into a living area, off of which was an open-plan kitchen. Pale creamy-pink terracotta floor tiles throughout created an impression of spaciousness and elegance. This was enhanced by the walls that were a light two-tone stippled yellow, on which hung botanical illustrations surrounded by broad mounts and gilt frames.

  ‘Please feel free to call me Diana. Miss Johnston makes me sound so middle-aged and spinsterish, don’t you think?’ she said, with a sideways smile, offering him a glass of champagne.

  ‘Thank you Diana, and in that case you must call me John.’

  ‘Come and meet my other guests, John.’ She placed her hand on his arm and led him through to the living area.

  This room had a white L-shaped sofa that ran almost the length of one wall. A white thickly woven woollen rug covered most of the central floor space, in the middle of which was a square metal and glass coffee table. Two smaller side tables in the same style were at each end of the sofa. On these, elegant hand-painted lamps threw pools of light. Double sliding doors led out onto a balcony that gave splendid views of Table Mountain and the harbour.

  There were six other people in the room, to each of whom she introduced him in turn. It seemed they were all people she had met during her brief stay in Cape Town, and like her they were all visitors to the Mother City. The man standing next to him was called James. He didn’t catch his other name. He was in public relations in London, and in Cape Town on a mixture of business and pleasure.

  ‘How are you enjoying your time in Cape Town, James?’ Small talk had never been one of Smith’s strong points.

  ‘What a great place. So beautiful, but I find the people somewhat reserved and withdrawn by comparison with those I’ve met in other parts of the country, such as Johannesburg or Durban. They’re a bit anti-social, I think is the way I’d describe it.’

  ‘Yes, they do take a bit of getting used to, I must admit,’ answered Smith. ‘It’s a very cliquey society and it can take time to be accepted,’ he went on, having heard this complaint many times in the past from all types of visitor.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have the time this time round, but I’ll take your word for it,’ said James with the aloofness of the English.

  ‘I must say,’ he continued, ‘I’m amazed at the way some of you drive. These minibus taxis for instance. They just seem to whizz around, in and out, stopping anywhere with absolutely no regard for other road-users.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. They are a law unto themselves at times.’ Smith tried to make light of the situation. ‘It’s because the whole transport system can’t cater for the numbers that need to move around.’

  ‘And your traffic lights, robots you call them,’ interrupted James. ‘Why on earth don’t you synchronise them, so that you can drive through without having to constantly stop and start? It wouldn’t take too much effort, you know.’

  ‘Oh that’s Cape Town for you. We don’t like to rush around too much. We’re very laid back down here on the tip of Africa.’

  Diana reappeared in the room with a tray of snacks for her guests, and having offered them around to everyone came and stood beside John.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’m just going onto the balcony to smoke a cigarette.’ said James, smiling. ‘Diana’s one of these, namby-pamby non-passive smokers.’ With that he strolled off.

  As James lit his cigarette, the Mountain floodlights came on, highlighting the contours of the rock face that made such a majestic backdrop to the city. During the summer months, if the weather was fine, Table Mountain was lit up at night. It was almost more impressive than during the day. Tonight the Mountain was silhouetted against a pale azure-blue sky, and had wisps of white and pink clouds streaking above it, like giant candy-floss.

  James found himself wondering, now that he had met John Smith for the first time in the flesh, what this inconsequential little man had done to warrant such attention and expense as was at present being lavished on him by James’s organisation. This operation was unlike anything else he had worked on, and he felt sure it would live up to his expectations of being extremely exciting and fun. He looked forward to examining the material they would gather.

  After an hour or so Diana’s guests began to thank her and depart, until only James and John remained. Smith was about to take his leave when she asked him if he would like to accompany her and James to dinner in the Waterfront. Thinking of his wife at home, he was about to decline the invitation, but to his surprise he found that when he spok
e he had accepted.

  As they got out of the lift James’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and went to one side to take the call. When he rejoined them he apologised but something unexpected had occurred and his immediate presence was required in his office. He thanked Diana for the evening and strolled off.

  ‘Oh well, that leaves just the two of us, John,’ she said. ‘How nice and cosy.’

  He grinned uncertainly. ‘Do you still want to go?’

  ‘Of course, but if you’d rather not, that’s fine by me.’

  ‘No, don’t misunderstand me. I just thought that you and James …’ he left the sentence hanging.

  She laughed. ‘No, I like James but not like that. We’re just friends who met on the plane on the way over, that’s all.’

  For some reason Smith felt a sense of relief at that last comment, and when they reached his car he gallantly opened the passenger door for Diana.

  Smith had never been to the restaurant where Diana had made a reservation although he knew of it by reputation. It was perhaps one of the more successful, of all the successful establishments, of the Waterfront development. They opted for a drink at the bar rather than being seated at their table immediately.

  ‘Good evening sir, madam. What may I get you?’ asked a coolly efficient barman, who thought he was god’s gift to the drinking man, and any woman that set foot in the bar. ‘Our cocktail special tonight is ‘Sex on the Beach’, if you’re interested.’ He said with an appraising glance at Diana.

  ‘Sounds fun. Maybe later,’ she shot back at him, seating herself on a stool at the bar.

  ‘Diana?’

  ‘J&B with ice and water, please.’

  ‘I’ll have the same, please.’

  Diana watched as the barman poured the drinks with flippant flamboyance.

  ‘They’re quite egotistical and self-assured,’ she observed.

  ‘That’s because they think they’re the best,’ answered John. ‘Mind you they are pretty good. No one has to wait for service. Cheers.’

  ‘This is a beautiful development,’ commented Diana. ‘I’ve been here a couple of times. That shopping mall is fantastic. It reminds me of the old Victorian railway stations in London; all those iron-work struts and trusses. The difference is that here they’re gleaming and pristine, rather than dark and filthy.’

  ‘And they’re building a whole new complex next to this one, virtually doubling it in size,’ said John. ‘It really is very successful.’

  The ice was melting in her glass as she placed it on the bar. In an instant the ever-efficient barman had whisked it away.

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ she snapped.

  ‘Yes you have,’ he replied somewhat arrogantly. ‘There’s only water left.’

  ‘I am aware of that,’ she said tapping the bar with her index finger, ‘I happen to like the taste of melted water – now if you’ll be so kind.’ He replaced the glass. ‘And while you’re here I will have another.’

  He looked suitably sheepish as he poured another, and had the good grace to apologise.

  After this drink they went through to their table by a window that looked across the harbour to the mountain.

  ‘How long have you been working at the Bank, John?’ she asked as they waited for their first course to arrive.

  ‘Just over twenty years now. I started as a junior teller when I left school.’

  ‘And you’ve worked your way up to manager.’

  ‘Assistant manager,’ he said modestly.

  ‘To me you’re a manager,’ she stressed the first syllable. He wasn’t quite sure he had heard correctly. ‘You’ve certainly managed to do everything I required.’

  ‘Oh it wasn’t too difficult,’ he smiled.

  A tug glided past in the harbour below. People walked along the walkways, and by the water’s edge. A band was playing in the arena and a juggler attracted a crowd of bemused onlookers. The Mountain looked magnificent.

  Their calamari starters arrived. Diana found them particularly delicious. She had never had anything as tender as these in England, and the ice-cold chardonnay was an ideal compliment to their subtle flavour.

  ‘It must be very nice to live in such a beautiful city as Cape Town. I envy you.’

  ‘Well you don’t really appreciate it after a while. It all becomes so day-to-day. It’s only when you meet a visitor that you see it through their eyes and remember how it was when you first came here. Like how big the mountain is. The sights, the tablecloth and the south-easter winds.’

  ‘Yes it does get rather windy,’ she agreed remembering the almost comical, if it hadn’t been so embarrassing, scene when her skirt blew right over her head, on the Foreshore a few days ago.

  ‘A bus got blown over not so long ago,’ he informed her knowledgeably.

  Their main courses arrived. Chicken breasts for Diana and steak for John, both served in the Cajun style. These also were cooked to perfection in a tangy, spicy sauce.

  Smith was unused to drinking such copious amounts of alcohol as he had had this evening and he was beginning to feel a little light-headed. This emboldened his spirit and before he knew it he was asking her about her personal life.

  ‘Forgive me asking, but I can’t understand why such a beautiful woman as yourself hasn’t got a hundred men after her.’

  ‘That’s the trouble. Every man I meet just wants to jump into bed with me,’ she said candidly, looking him in the eyes. ‘That’s why I’m having such a good time with you. You’re not like the others. You treat me more like a person than a sex object.’

  He felt flattered. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a little older than the other men you know.’

  ‘That’s probably it. I must admit I prefer older men,’ she agreed. ‘Shall we go back to my place for coffee.’

  ‘That would be very nice.’ He waved for the bill. As she reached for her wallet in her handbag, he stopped her. ‘Please, let me get this.’

  ‘That’s very kind John. You’re such a gentleman.’

  He laughed, ‘I just have to make a phone call. Let my wife know I’ll be a little late.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I completely forgot I was keeping you from her. If you’d like to leave I can get a taxi from here. No problem.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s not often I get a chance to entertain such a pleasant client.’

  He stepped outside and called Catherine.

  ‘I’m afraid the meeting went on a bit longer than we thought. There’s some chap from the Reserve Bank whose offered to take us out for dinner.’ He was amazed at how easily the lie tripped off his tongue. ‘You don’t mind? I don’t know how long I’ll be, so don’t wait up.’ That was much easier than he thought it was going to be.

  As they walked out of the restaurant Diana took his arm, pulling him closer to him.

  ‘That was a lovely dinner. Thank you.’ She leant up and kissed him on the check, the shock of which nearly caused him to trip down the stairs.

  ‘This is as they leave the restaurant. She takes his arm and gives him a little kiss. They go back to her flat and he accepts her invitation to go up for coffee and a nightcap.’ James was talking Ian Hamilton through a sequence of photographs that were spread out in front of them on the table of Hamilton’s study. They showed Diana leaving her apartment with Smith, having dinner in the Waterfront, and then returning to the flat.

  ‘Your surveillance team is very good,’ commented Hamilton.

  ‘They’re professionals. They know what they’re doing, and we see that they have the best equipment to do it with,’ agreed James.

  They had spent the afternoon watching a video of the drinks party that Diana had hosted. Hidden cameras in all the rooms in the flat had recorded the entire event on video, and this had been edited down to show those scenes in which John Smith was involved.

  It was obvious that Smith had difficulty keeping his eyes off Diana. She in turn was attentive to him and came across as being interested in everything he wa
s saying.

  James picked up a second DVD and walked over to the player.

  ‘And this is what happened when they got inside the flat.’

  The disk began to play. It showed them coming through the front door, and Diana telling Smith to go through and make himself comfortable, whilst she went into the kitchen to make coffee.

  Next she was seen carrying a tray on which was a jug of coffee, milk, sugar, two cups, two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

  ‘I know I’ve probably drunk far too much already tonight, but I suddenly thought it would be nice to have a glass of champagne. Can I tempt you as well, John?’ she asked, looking him in the eye, as she put the tray down on the table in front of them.

  ‘Yes, you can,’ he said with barely concealed innuendo.

  She handed him the bottle. ‘Won’t you open that for me, please, while I pour the coffee?’

  ‘Certainly.’ He unwrapped the foil, loosened the wire and managed to spill very little as the cork flew off with a resounding pop. He filled the two glasses.

  She kicked her shoes off and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, turned slightly towards him, her legs together and tucked underneath her.

  They talked about nothing in particular for a while, and then Diana stood up to refill John’s glass. As she did so, she lurched and the champagne poured into Smith’s lap, wetting the front of his trousers.

  ‘I’m sorry. Don’t move, I’ll fetch a cloth.’ She went to the kitchen and came back with a tea-towel.

  She knelt down in front of him and gently began to dab the moist area between his legs.

  ‘I think you’d better take your trousers off, they’re far too wet to dry on you.’ Swiftly she unbuckled his belt, unzipped him, and undid the top button.

  ‘Lift up,’ she ordered, and as he did so she proceeded to pull his trousers and underpants down.

  Smith had been completely unprepared for this action. It had all happened so quickly. One moment he had been sitting normally, and the next his trousers were around his ankles, and this beautiful woman was kneeling down in front of him, looking at his rapidly erecting penis. His face registered a combination of surprise, fear and pleasure. He seemed uncertain as to how he should react, but before he could do anything Diana spoke.