"What sort of arrangement do you and your wife have, Jim?" said Janine, threading her arm through mine as if we were old family friends in need of extra warmth. In fact, we were acquaintances of less than two hours' standing, now trudging through the bitter cold of a New Year's Eve. The others had just parted from us, carrying on in their walk up to the Crags to see the firework display, while we had taken a turning to make our way to Janine and Rab's flat.
"Well since I had to come up here at such an unusual time, Jill and Simon decided to come with me and stay over, check out the Scottish New Year, and make it part of the family holiday rather than an interruption."
"Doh. Not that kind of arrangement. I mean in your marriage."
"I don't understand."
"Aw, you know, the fires burn down a bit after a while, don't they? So maybe you come to an understanding."
"Well, maybe."
"I could tell it just to look at the two of you together." Her voice had descended to a throaty stage whisper and suddenly turned a hundred percent more Scots." Let's get to the bottom line: yer no doing it, are you? You're not really a functioning couple any more."
She tightened her grip on me. "Are you? Are you?" And her eyes flashed at me, wobbling in the Pinot Grigio.
It seemed quite a bullying tone to take and I was reminded of how she had behaved in the restaurant when the wine got spilt, letting the waitress clear it up without a hint of apology but with a filthy look on her face. In fact it was clear that it was Janine's fault for suddenly reaching out across the aisle to grab Jill's wrist; and just so she could pretend to look at her bracelet and start on about how fond she was of silver.
At that point, an hour or two before, she was merely a loud neighbour dominating an adjacent table in a restaurant. I didn't think for a minute that she was really interested in the bracelet. Everything she had on was gold for starters.
Janine was probably five years or so older than my thirty seven; early forties anyway. She would never say. Just on the short side, she filled out her scarlet dress nicely. It went a little below the knee and flared over a black net petticoat and dark stockings which showed her nicely turned calves to some advantage. She had a fine cleavage decorated with tantalising glimpses of black lace. Some might describe her as dumpy or stout, but as her ample bosom and Junoesque hips were complemented by quite a slender waist, I think voluptuous would be the right answer. Her assisted blonde hair was short and she had one of those faces which naturally carry a little bit of fat, and which look young in consequence. There was something feline about it, like a leopard, and she had large green eyes which could be quite terrifying with some people's idea of too much dark make-up. Her lips were a study of Marilyn Monroe's: ready to pout; generous in extent; shrieking 'kiss me' in a pillar box red shout. Her lower lip pushed forward a bit, making for a slightly sulky look.
Earlier, I had been taken aback by the way that she stared at me when she arrived, the sheer persistence of it. Our eyes were always meeting, but not by my doing, and this in spite of the presence of Jill and Simon and their obvious relationship to me. Janine was sitting with Rab, her husband, and another couple called Maureen and Harry, who were further away from us. Rab was a man with an unkempt moustache and a mouth full of teeth that looked like the stones in an untended graveyard. There was something of the cartoon headmaster about him.
I found this staring quite unnerving and sought to avoid it. Jill seemed oblivious to it to the point where I wondered if I was imagining things. I was surprised that Janine continued in it, as she was in company, but they seemed to ignore her antics too. For all that, I was curious myself to have a discreet look at her and looked away and then drew my eyes back round in a slow arc. But as soon as they fell on her, there she was, staring at me again. And this time, there was a touch of a smug smile. She'd caught me. I'd shown my hand.
Once she'd penetrated our circle by talking to Jill about her jewellery it was quite easy for her to establish that we were here on account of my unexpected offer of work. So then it was easy for her to steer the conversation round to me.
**********
I consider it a sensible precaution not to identify the town. Scotland's North Sea Coast has an obvious connection with the North Sea oil industry. It has its share of the world's hazards, and it might bring me more than my fair share of these if I did name it. Those hazards are not restricted to the industry itself. Much follows in its wake, and this includes illegal activities with dodgy people who follow them. It also includes perfectly honest people, in whom I presume to number myself, people who are simply following the work; in my case as an IT contractor.
One of the more bizarre incidents of my time there and my life generally, would turn out to be getting chased out of a pub with a rather eclectic clientèle, by the classic route of climbing out of the toilet window. Someone pointed me out as I went past, and said in a loud voice to someone else, the whole pub in general and anyone in particular, "Hoodlum. Guy belongs to that Coulter bitch. Hey pal, scare any old ladies today?" But that lay in the future and by then it would be true that I belonged to her, but not in that way.
**********
"You're in oil then Jim?" she said making sure I took the full force of her gaze.
"I'm in IT, but I've done a lot of work supporting GIS and remote imaging systems. I'd finished my last contract and I was cooling my heels when this came up."
"Myself, I'm in the planning department and I've had to cross swords a few times with some a the guys you might be working for; onshore installations, stuff like that. Had to read the riot act on more than one occasion." She paused for a change of subject. "It must be hard coming to strange towns and working away from home."
"Read a book, watch a film, get home when I can."
"I'm sure we can offer a bit more action for you than that here, Mr Buckley—music, drama, exhibitions... And if you want to get free of the town, there's some very fine countryside less than an hour away."
Food came and went, and I was thinking that we had spent as much time in the restaurant as we had intended. At the other table they were onto coffee. A member of staff, a man wearing a jacket, came to it and mumbled something confidential to Janine, who assumed a satisfied look. She fanned her hand out in gesture. It seemed, at one point, that she waved it in our direction. And indeed, when he had finished and was making to withdraw, it seemed that we were included in his smile.
"Can we have the bill?" I said.
"That will not be necessary. Mr Mustafi—who unfortunately cannot be here tonight—welcomes
all
of Mrs Coulter's guests."
"Oh," I said.
"Can't argue with that," said Janine suavely and stared right at me again.
"We can't let you do that," said Jill. "It's terribly kind but really—"
"Kind? My aunt Fanny," Janine broke in. "It's the owner who's paying—a bit of corporate hospitality for a favour we did. Four of my people dropped out of the party 'cos a the time of year. So it's kind of going begging. But it's all kosher."
"Oh well, in that case—in that case we're all really grateful. Aren't we boys?"
I nodded and gave a token smile. "Thank you so much."
After a nudge from Jill Simon raised his head from the game he was playing on his phone. "Oh. Thanks. Don't really like Indian food, but thanks for the poppadoms. Your dress is funny... It looks like a lampshade. Mum?"
"
Simon!
If you don't apologise to Janine I'm taking that thing off you."
"
Wheesht!
Alright so it does look a bit like a lampshade, but that's the style. Do you ever wear a dress?"
"Only for fancy dress parties. I like them though. I'm going to wear one to school, maybe on my last day. But not a lampshade."
"Maybe I'll buy you one sometime..."
"Thanks... Can I try your lipstick?"
"What's wrong with your mum's?"
"It's not bright enough. Yours is
really
bright." He turned again to Jill. "What does 'there's no such thing as a free lunch' mean?"
Never let it be said that kids learn nothing from a diet of gaming and gangster films.
Jill shook her head at him non-committally. Janine cut in:
"I don't know Simon. You'll have to ask your dad, but this is dinner. That's different..."
Simon smiled at her with a screwed up face which he has reserved for bad jokes.
"Well I wish there was something we could give you," Jill went on.
Janine turned to Rab, inclining her head so that she was looking up at him.
He sort of cleared his throat as if he was making an announcement. "Well there is. The pleasure has been ours and the simplest thing for you to do is to continue it. Seeing as you're here in a strange town on Hogmanay, you're very welcome to see in the New Year with us."
That was it. The trap was well and truly sprung.
"Oh, that's brilliant," said Jill. "That is so kind of you."
It would have been worth paying the bill and a surcharge on top to get away from Rab and Janine and co, but it was simply too late for anything. I was completely behind in the game. The fact is, I had been studying her foot. She had her legs crossed, and the vivid red point of one shoe was moving slowly back and forth like the warning swish of a cat's tail. Then her hand dropped onto her knee below the table, and eased up the hem of her dress and the flounces of the petticoat, as if to make some adjustment. I caught sight of the dark bands of her stocking tops and was embarrassed at finding myself inadvertently peeking at her underwear. So I looked up. And there she was, still staring, only this time her eyebrows rose in mock surprise.
Jill was delighted by this offer. Simon was just as bored as a ten year old can be away from his friends, and he continued to play a game on his phone. And I? I was thinking,
What the hell are you trying to pull?
Meanwhile Janine lifted the remains of a glass of wine, looked over again and drained it, using it to make the very slightest of salutes.
**********
And so it was that we stumbled out into the night among the other revellers. Rab had proposed that we walk up to the Crags for the fireworks and Simon started to look interested for the first time that evening.
"I can't go up there in these," Janine said, pointing down at her spiky red heels. "I'll have to go home and change or just wait in."
"Do you want to go darling? I can keep Janine company," said Jill.
"Come on now Jill. Don't be doing that," said Rab, "It only came to me because you were talking that much about the fireworks. What do you say then, Jim?"
"Fireworks? I can take 'em or leave them, but Jill loves fireworks. I'll walk Janine home. Then we can try to phone and catch you up, if it suits."
"You'll be tired after baring your soul to Denver-Carrington," said Janine.
And so, Janine and I turned off into a side street to go to their flat. While the rest continued to the Crags, I found myself being interrogated about my sex life and harangued by this awful woman.
"Ha ha. If you answer me I'll stop. So you're not doing it then. Are you?"
"Alright. It's something that happens."
"Aye. But you're stepping different ways now. That's plain for anyone to see. You should be free to explore other options, shouldn't you?"
"No. It's just a phase." I said this in the corrective tone of a nursery teacher. She was annoying me. I'd just admitted that her hunch was right about the dormant state of my marriage. What if she had a point about the rest?
"A bloody long phase, if I know anything. That's why—oh!" A sudden arctic gust tore into us from the east, taking our breath away. "Ohmigod. I'm freezing."
She let go of my arm momentarily, then pushed her head under it while bringing her right arm round my waist. She then secured my left with hers and snuggled up to me, putting her head on my shoulder. If a third party were observing us they would probably say, 'they were walking along with their arms round each other'.
