3
Larry Chase’s home was not in Bournemouth, but
further east along the coast, about nine miles from the busy port
of Southampton. ‘Wow,’ said Nina as the Mondeo pulled up. ‘Your
dad’s place is huge.’ It was an old red-brick farmhouse, but one
that had been extensively renovated, surrounded by a couple of
acres of lush grounds. A brand new silver Jaguar XKR sports coupé
was parked outside, an open double garage revealing a black Range
Rover and a lipstickred Mazda MX-5 roadster within. ‘He must be
doing well for himself.’
‘Making a few quid
was never one of his problems,’ Eddie said. ‘How he makes it . . . that’s another story.’ He got
out of the car before she could ask him to elaborate.
Nina had made an
effort to dress up, wearing a skirt and a pair of high heels.
Eddie, however, was in his usual jeans, T-shirt and black leather
jacket, not even having bothered to shave. He trudged to the front
door and rang the bell as Nina joined him.
Larry opened the
door. ‘Hello, welcome!’ he proclaimed. ‘Come inside. Here, let me.’
He took Nina’s jacket as she entered and hung it in a small
cloakroom before turning to his son, but Eddie had already removed
his own jacket and pointedly placed it on top of Nina’s. ‘I’m glad
you’re both here. Elizabeth’s been on at me for ages to get in
touch with you.’ He became more sombre. ‘I just wish it hadn’t
taken your grandmother giving us all such a scare for it to
happen.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ Eddie
said flatly.
‘But,’ Larry went on,
brightening again, ‘it’s still an opportunity for us to bury the
hatchet, I hope. Twenty-two years – it’s a long time. Too long,
wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes, I would,’ said
Nina, when Eddie showed no sign of answering.
‘So would I. Anyway,
come and meet my wife. Julie! Company’s here!’
A pretty blonde woman
entered the hall, the heels of her black leather boots clacking on
the polished tiles. ‘Hi, how are you?’ she said enthusiastically,
kissing Nina on the cheek before doing the same to Eddie, to his
discomfiture.
‘This is my wife,
Julie,’ said Larry, putting an arm round her shoulder. ‘Julie, I’d
like you to meet my son Eddie, and his wife, Nina.’
‘So, when did you get
remarried?’ Eddie asked, tone more accusing than
interested.
‘Two years ago,’
Julie told him.
‘Surprised Elizabeth
didn’t tell you,’ Larry added.
Eddie smiled, with no
warmth. ‘I didn’t ask her.’ He regarded the blonde, who was wearing
a tight, low-cut satin dress in a vivid electric blue, as well as a
plenitude of gold jewellery. ‘So, Julie. How old are
you?’
‘Ah, come on, Eddie,’
said Nina, trying to keep things light. ‘You know you shouldn’t ask
a lady her age.’ Admittedly, she was curious herself. Julie was
considerably younger than her husband.
Julie flapped a hand,
bracelets tinkling. ‘Oh, I don’t mind. I’m
thirty-six.’
‘Thirty-six?’ Eddie exclaimed.
‘I know, it’s a bit
of an age gap. But that doesn’t matter when you love each other,
does it?’ She rested her head on Larry’s shoulder.
Eddie was still
dismayed. ‘You’re younger than me!’
‘Yes, I know – when
Larry told me about you I thought it might be a bit weird, me being
your stepmother. But if you want you can think of me as more like a
stepsister!’
Eddie’s silence and
fixed expression told her exactly how well her joke had been
received. ‘So,’ said Larry after a moment, ‘Julie, why don’t you
sort us out some drinks? I’ll show Nina and Eddie round the house.’
Julie gave her guests a hesitant smile, then clicked back down the
hall.
Larry went to a
flight of stairs. ‘Come on, we’ll do upstairs first.’ He started up
them.
‘Half his age plus
seven years,’ Eddie muttered to Nina as they followed.
‘What?’
‘That’s the rule,
remember? For how old a woman has to be to stop the bloke from
being a creepy old pervert.’
‘So?’
‘He’s sixty. You’re
the mental arithmetic genius, work it out.’
Nina sighed. It was
already obvious that the evening was not going to be a roaring
success; the best result would simply be getting through it without
a fistfight.
The house’s interior
was impressive, expensive . . . and decidedly masculine. If there
were any rooms where Julie had been given free rein to apply a
feminine touch, Larry opted not to include them in the tour.
Instead, he showed off those parts he considered most important: a
well-equipped gym; a sauna; a home cinema with a floor-shaking
sound system and practically a whole wall of DVDs and Blu-rays,
Nina awarding him a few approving brownie points when she noticed
that the collection included the complete works of Monty Python.
Slightly to her surprise, a large attic was filled by a model
railway. It wasn’t a hobby she would have expected of such an
obvious Type A personality, but as Larry explained, ‘I’ve had model
railways since I was a kid. That way, I know there’s at least one
place where the trains run on time.’
‘Yeah, you always did
like being in control, didn’t you?’ said Eddie. He tweaked a dial,
and a train jerked into motion.
‘Do you mind?’ Larry
snapped.
‘What? I’m not going
to break it.’
‘It wouldn’t be the
first time.’ He flicked a master switch to turn off the
power.
Eddie shook his head.
‘Christ, I crash a toy train once as a kid, and I’m banned for
life.’
‘They’re not toys,’
his father said with irritation.
‘It’s really
amazing,’ Nina cut in, hoping to forestall an argument. She
examined one of the little buildings, a replica of an English
country pub. ‘And it’s so detailed!’
‘Detail is
everything,’ said Larry. ‘If you want to be successful, you need to
cover every last detail, whether you’re doing something yourself or
delegating. Like this.’ He swept a hand over the layout. ‘I don’t
have the time to make everything myself, but I always make sure
that when someone else works for me, they know exactly what I
expect from them.’
‘You paid someone to
make this for you?’ Eddie said scathingly. ‘Where’s the fun in
that? You might as well hire someone to stand here and drive the
trains.’
To Nina’s relief, a
call came that dinner was almost ready, and they trooped
downstairs. Drinks were served, then the meal began. With the
addition of the chirpy Julie to the mix, the conversation became
less tense. However, halfway through the main course of beef
carpaccio with marinated salad, Nina realised she would have to be
the designated driver as Eddie, keeping pace with his father,
poured himself a third glass of wine. Not even having finished her
first glass, she switched to water. ‘I’m no expert on the
linguistic ins and outs of England,’ she said to Larry, ‘but I can
tell you don’t have the same accent as Eddie. Are you not from
Yorkshire originally?’
‘Oh, no,’ he replied.
‘I’m from Bucks.’ Nina gave him a blank look. ‘Buckinghamshire, in
the Home Counties. The rich parts around London,’ he clarified. ‘I
used to spend a lot of time travelling between the ports at
Liverpool and Hull for work, and the M62, the motorway between
them, was just being finished. So I picked somewhere to live that
was right in the middle. Same reason I moved down here, actually. A
lot of my work goes through Southampton, so it made sense to be
near the port. Turned out well in both cases. I met Julie down here
– she used to be my secretary – and met my first wife in
Yorkshire.’
‘You mean
Mum,’ Eddie rumbled.
‘What is your work?’
Nina asked quickly. ‘Eddie said it was something to do with
shipping.’ His actual words had been ‘shipping, or some bollocks’,
but she kept that to herself.
Larry gestured at a
shelf. ‘Julie, there are some of my cards on there – can you get
one for Nina?’ Julie stood and retrieved one, and handed it to
Nina.
‘Thanks,’ Nina said.
A stark, modern logo in deep blue stood out at the card’s top above
the company name. ‘Chase International Logistics?’
‘That’s right,’ said
Larry with a smug smile. ‘I left the old firm ten years ago and
went into business for myself. And it’s worked out rather
well.’
‘So what does
international logistics entail?’ Not wanting to seem rude by
discarding it, she slipped the card into her breast
pocket.
‘Getting things from
where they are to where they’re wanted as quickly as possible with
the minimum of hassle. Including from officials. I go all over the
world, getting to know the right people. A word in someone’s ear
can mean the difference between a package being held up by red tape
for a week or clearing customs in an hour.’
Eddie took another
chug of wine. ‘And it’s all totally legal, obviously.’ His voice
was full of sarcasm.
‘Everything’s above
board, if that’s what you’re implying,’ said Larry,
frowning.
‘Well, yeah. After
that time you got investigated by Customs and Excise, I suppose
you’d want to make sure all the paperwork’s in order.’
Nina and Julie
exchanged awkward looks as Larry stabbed his fork into his last
piece of beef. ‘That was just a random audit. They do hundreds of
them every year.’ He put the meat in his mouth and chewed on it
ferociously.
‘But they don’t
normally come round to people’s houses and take all their files
away, do they?’ It was Eddie’s turn to look smug.
Mouth full, Larry
couldn’t reply, but from his scowl it was clear he was planning a
retaliatory shot. ‘So, everyone finished?’ Julie said hurriedly.
‘Larry, love, can you help me put the plates in the
dishwasher?’
Once they had gone,
Nina put her head in her hands. ‘God, Eddie.’
‘What?’ he said,
shrugging innocently. ‘Just being nostalgic.’
‘Can you be less
aggressively nostalgic?
Please?’
Dessert was served,
baked peaches stuffed with mascarpone and almonds, both Eddie and
Larry washing it down with more wine. Nina was grateful to Julie
for steering the conversation away from anything that might spark
another round of sniping between father and son. ‘It sounds like
you have an amazing life,’ she said to the archaeologist. ‘One
great big adventure!’
‘It’s not all
adventure,’ Nina assured her. ‘I spend more time than I’d like in
an office. But we’re doing some fieldwork at Glastonbury tomorrow,
in King Arthur’s tomb.’
‘Wow. And
archaeology’s how you met Eddie?’
‘Yes – he’d been
hired as my bodyguard. He’s kept me safe from the bad guys since
then.’ She smiled and put a hand on his arm.
‘That’s really
romantic,’ said Julie, ignoring Larry’s faint but dismissive huff.
‘And exciting, too. Eddie, how many bad guys have you had to deal
with?’
‘Oh, a fair few,’
said Eddie, for the first time that evening giving an answer
without any snarky undertones. ‘But I used to be in the SAS, so I
can handle myself.’ Julie was highly impressed by the revelation,
deepening Larry’s irritation. ‘A punch in the face usually sorts
’em out.’
‘Well, that’s one
thing you were always good at as a kid,’ said Larry loudly as he
took another drink. ‘Hitting people, I mean. What was the name of
that boy you used to bully? Peter something – Peter Clackett, that
was it. I remember when his parents came round to complain about
you beating him up.’
‘Larry . . . ’ Julie
implored.
But he was on a roll.
‘Of course, it was the police who started coming round when you got
older. Still,’ he continued, addressing Nina, ‘I’m glad he’s
finally put his, ah, talent to constructive use.’
‘Well, personally,
Larry,’ said Nina defensively, ‘I think Eddie’s a fantastic man,
and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.’ That wasn’t entirely
true, but she hoped it would divert the discussion down a less
argumentative path. Though in truth she was startled to hear that
her husband had been a bully as a child – and that he had made no
attempt to deny it.
‘Thanks, love,’ said
Eddie, to her relief sounding cheery rather than angry. He ate a
piece of peach, following it with more wine, then said, ‘Mind you,
I might have turned out better as a kid if I’d had a good role
model. Not someone who was hardly ever there ’cause he was off
giving backhanders to crooked customs men and shagging other women
behind his wife’s back.’
Larry banged down his
spoon. ‘Oh, God,’ Nina moaned under her breath.
‘But after I left
home,’ Eddie went on, ‘the army knocked some sense into me, so I
turned out okay in the end. You know, serving my country, saving
lives . . . ’
‘Marrying
terrorists,’ said Larry, turning to Julie. ‘Did you know his first
wife was Sophia Blackwood – the woman who tried to blow up New
York?’ Julie was too embarrassed to reply.
‘Still, I managed not
to cheat on her,’ Eddie snapped. A sarcastic sneer. ‘So, what
contributions to humanity have you been making for the last twenty
years? Bit of this, bit of that, makin’ deals . . . playing with
your toy trains.’
‘Maybe I should have been around more,’ Larry growled. ‘I
would have knocked some respect into
you.’
‘Oh, you would, would
you?’ said Eddie, challenging. ‘Big man, hitting his kid,
eh?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t
have let you run riot like your mother did.’
Eddie jumped up,
jolting the table and knocking over his wine glass as he jabbed a
finger at his father. ‘Don’t you fucking dare criticise Mum! Not after what you did to
her.’
Larry also sprang to
his feet. ‘Don’t you swear at me in my own house!’
‘Why, what’re you
gonna do? Spank me? Or maybe you’re going to knock some respect
into me. Come on, give it a try!’
Both wives stood too,
trying to calm their husbands. ‘Eddie, Eddie, come on,’ said Nina. ‘We should probably get
moving, huh? It’s getting late.’
‘Suits me fine,’ said
Eddie. ‘Thanks for dinner, Julie. We’ll see ourselves out.’ He
stormed from the room.
Nina shot Larry a
disgusted look- he had, after all, been just as responsible as
Eddie for the evening’s unpleasant turn – before facing his wife.
‘I’m sorry, Julie.’
‘So am I,’ she
replied, equally apologetic. ‘I hope the rest of your stay is . . .
better.’
‘Me too. Bye.’ With a
sigh, she followed Eddie, who had already donned his leather jacket
and was waiting at the door. ‘What the hell was that?’ she hissed
as she collected her own jacket. ‘You couldn’t stay civil for two
hours?’
Eddie walked out.
‘What? He bloody started it.’
‘You were both as bad
as each other,’ she said, catching up. ‘Yes, he was acting like an
ass, but you didn’t have to do the same!’
‘I didn’t want to
fucking come at all, remember? The whole thing’s your fault for
dragging me here.’
‘Oh, right, blame me!
That’s really goddamn mature, Eddie.’ They reached the car, Eddie
heading for the driver’s side. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Getting in the car,
what does it look like?’
‘You’re not driving,
not after all that wine.’
He slapped the key on
the roof with a clang. ‘Whatever, fucking fine. Maybe I’ll walk
back instead.’
‘Don’t tempt me,’
said Nina, tight-lipped. She took the key and unlocked the
Mondeo.
Eddie dropped heavily
into the passenger seat and slammed his door. ‘Well, if you’re so
fucking embarrassed to be seen with me, I’ll save you any social
humiliation and not go to Glastonbury tomorrow. You can find your
own bloody way there. I’ll spend the day with Nan, like I promised.
At least I know there’s one member of my family who appreciates
me.’
‘Fine.
What-ever.’ Teeth clenched, Nina
started the engine and, over-revving, powered down the
drive.