‘I was talking to Jenkins,’ he said.
Pitt answered with his eyebrow. Did not look too impressed.
‘Why?’ he said, when Hardyman was not immediately forthcoming with more information.
‘Are you jealous?’ said Hardyman.
‘You’re checking up on me,’ said Pitt. ‘Making sure I’m running the business the way you want. You’ll be tasting the wine next.’
Hardyman laughed again.
‘Keep your pants on, my lugubrious old friend. I called you a couple of days ago, you weren’t about. I spoke to Jenkins.’
‘Where was I?’ said Pitt. Realised that he had sounded almost petulant, and determined he should change his tone.
Hardyman didn’t immediately answer. When Pitt looked up from his dinner, he could see the smile was still on his face. He rolled his eyes, aware that he was being sucked in.
‘You’re still smiling,’ said Pitt. ‘I’m going to have to get the waiter to escort you from the premises.’
‘I’ll tell you where you were,’ said Hardyman. ‘You want to know?’
‘Actually, I think I probably don’t, but I expect you’re going to enlighten me.’
‘Your man Jenkins says you’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen lately.’
The look on Pitt’s face remained unchanged. He stared blankly at Hardyman, then lowered his gaze to his plate; lightly poached salmon, new potatoes, a delicate lemon sauce, haricot vert. Hardyman continued to smile.
‘Since the cook arrived,’ he added.
Pitt’s face said nothing. He ate his meal, stared at the table. Hardyman was chortling. A piece of food spat out of his mouth onto the table, and he dabbed his lips with his napkin.
‘Got a thing for the hired help?’ asked Hardyman. ‘You know, I don’t blame you. She looked pretty good that one time I saw her. Fit.’
‘What did Jenkins say?’ asked Pitt.
Despite the rather dour expression on his face, Pitt felt the lightness of relief at being able to talk about Ju. How many times in the previous few weeks had he sat at lunch with Hardyman, talking about the world and events, and Hardyman’s sexual conquests and the vineyard, when all he’d wanted to talk about had been Yuan Ju?
‘Are you banging the cook?’
‘No,’ said Pitt. He looked up, finally. Shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that.’
Hardyman looked disappointed and the smile left his face at last.
‘That’s too bad. I banged a Chinese girl once. It was, you know, different. They’ve got that whole Eastern lovemaking thing. You should try it.’
Pitt stared at him. He wanted to talk about Ju, but he didn’t want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about the way she floated around the kitchen. About the precise movement of her fingers as she prepared food. About the strength in her hands as she placed a plate of food down in front of him. The smell of her, and the shape of her body when the sun hit her in a certain way. The lyrical movement of her arms and legs, the long black hair that came most of the way down her back, the strands of hair that fell across her face. And, more than anything, he wanted to talk about how she made him feel, and how he was having emotions that he had not felt in decades. If ever.
Perhaps that all sounded soft. Two men sitting across a table at lunch was no place to be discussing such romantic notions. It was the place for tales of illicit sex on the kitchen table.
‘What did Jenkins say?’ asked Pitt again.
‘Well, I wish I could say that he told me you’d been banging the Chinese cook, but he didn’t. He just said you’d been spending a lot of time with her. He didn’t think you’d been having sex, presumed you talked a lot. Although, he did say that he found that just about as hard to believe as you nailing her on the kitchen table.’
A smile never came to Pitt’s face, but he was lighting up inside.
‘No,’ he said. ‘We never talk.’
‘Ah,’ said Hardyman. ‘So, you’re not hanging out with the Chinese cook?’
Pitt looked curiously at him.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m hanging out with Yuan Ju.’
‘But you don’t talk or bang?’
‘No.’
Hardyman stared across the table, contemplating asking what it was that they did do. He decided not. Shook his head, and said, ‘Weirdest relationship I ever heard of. Does Daisy know you’re not banging the cook?’
Pitt smiled at last. Not immune to the kind of emotions that scramble one’s world in an instant, Hardyman narrowed his eyes and waved an interested fork across the table. He recognised the look in Pitt’s eyes.
‘By Christ, John, you’re in love.’
The smile left Pitt’s face, but was not replaced by a scowl. Hardyman would always be a safe home for the most intimate secret.
‘You’re not banging the cook, and you’re not even talking to her,’ said Hardyman, a sense of wonder in his voice. ‘You’re just in love. Holy crap, John, you’re human.’
Pitt smiled again, a rueful movement of the lips. His eyes were warm.
‘Do the scientists who built you know you’ve grown a heart?’
Pitt nodded. Smiling at Hardyman’s mockery, smiling at the thought of Yuan Ju.
Eventually he managed to take the smile from his face, and he could try to move the conversation on, but the sense of light relief would remain inside, as Yuan Ju had now joined him at the table.
###
Also by Douglas Lindsay
The Barney Thomson Novels
#1 The Legend Of Barney Thomson (aka The Long Midnight of Barney Thomson)
#2 The Barber Surgeon's Hairshirt
#3 Murderers Anonymous
#4 The Resurrection Of Barney Thomson
#5 The Last Fish Supper
#6 The Haunting of Barney Thomson
#7 The Final Cut
Other Novels
Lost in Juarez
The Unburied Dead (DS Thomas Hutton #1)
A Plague Of Crows (DS Thomas Hutton #2)
We Are The Hanged Man (DCI Jericho #1)
Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite!
Barney Thomson Novellas
The End of Days
The Face Of Death
Barney Thomson, Zombie Killer
About Blasted Heath
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A Room With No Natural Light Page 23
