by Bev Robitai
‘Well,’ she wavered. ‘I suppose I could cancel my plans.’ She smiled inwardly. Missing a re-run of C.S.I on TV wouldn’t be too great a disappointment. ‘Yes, all right, why not.’
She reached into her gym bag to extract a card. ‘Here’s my number. Just let me know when and where to meet you.’
‘Can’t we meet here and go together?’
Just in time she remembered she was supposed to be an occupant in the building.
‘Sorry, I have a few errands to run before then, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be. I’d prefer it if you called.’
‘Your wish is my command, Robyn. I look forward to tonight with all the anticipation of a new season’s Beaujolais.’
They parted with a light touch of hands, and Robyn escaped into the changing room. She leaned on the other side of the door and blew out a long breath. The intensity of the exchange had surprised her, despite her prior knowledge of Colwyn’s ability as a salesman.
‘No wonder Dad was convinced,’ she murmured. ‘That guy could sell condoms in a nunnery.’
Mike was pleased with her progress, but advised caution when she told him of the encounter, pointing out that her inexperience might make her vulnerable.
‘How many times has a man tried to sweep you off your feet, Robyn?’
‘Well, never. But I’m not stupid, for God’s sake! I can see through his slimy patter. “Tell me your name so I can call it out in my sleep?” Oh please! That’s the oldest line in the book! He may be good, but he has no idea what I know about him, does he? I’m hardly likely to fall for a guy that I’ve already got pegged as an utter bastard, am I? Give me a bit of credit.’
She was feeling edgy tonight. Something about Mike was different, unsettling. She was suddenly uncertain of him. Perhaps it was the way he looked. His hair was slicked back, he was wearing glasses, and even his eyes seemed to have changed colour.
‘What have you been doing today, Mike? You look like a whole different person.’
He smiled suddenly, transforming his face to one she recognised.
‘Chasing up some people our Colwyn has been talking to. I followed him into a restaurant a few days ago, and now I’m tracking down his contacts. I didn’t want them to recognise me so I changed my hair and used tinted contact lenses.’
‘You make a good chameleon, but it’s bloody unsettling. Just when I think I know you, you turn into someone else!’
He shrugged. ‘It’s a useful skill. Anyway, it helps me deal with people like Colwyn Symons.’
‘Not half as memorably as I can deal to him,’ she grinned. ‘He’s got no chance, no matter how seductive he thinks he is!’
‘I’m sure you’re right, sorry I doubted you.’ He sighed. ‘Of course you can handle it. It’s just that I’ve seen people taken in by charmers like him before, and it didn’t always end happily ever after, you know?’
She sensed that he was reluctant to explain further.
‘I’ll be careful, Mike, honestly . No quiet intimate restaurants or dim booths.’ She clicked her fingers as inspiration struck. ‘I know, I’ll get him to take me to the restaurant up the CN Tower. We’ll sit in the window and you can watch us with your binoculars from down here!’
‘It’s a revolving restaurant, I’d have to run around the base every hour to keep up with you!’ She was reassured by the amusement in his eyes. ‘Good idea for a place to go, though. Plenty of people about, and very public. He’d have no chance of any shady moves there.’
‘So when he calls, it’s dinner up the tower at what, 7pm? Nice and early so I can be home to report back to you and relieve you of any risk of a sleepless night. Good enough?’
‘Fine and dandy. Er, good on yer, mate. Is that right?’
‘You beauty! Now give me a hand to choose what I’m going to wear. Is that blue sequinned thing going to be right, d’you think?’
‘Hm, let’s hold that in reserve for now. The white jersey dress will do, it’s appealing but still fairly innocent. What make-up have you got with you?’
‘None - oh except maybe an old lipstick in the bottom of a bag somewhere. I never use the stuff.’
She grinned at his surprise.
‘Well sheep aren’t terribly impressed by that sort of thing you know, and there weren’t many nightclubs within a day’s drive of the farm. I just never got the hang of it all. My boyfriend Geoff was a card-carrying greenie with homespun jerseys and leather sandals, he never cared for cosmetics because they test so many of them on animals. So the short answer to your question is still “none”.’
‘No problem, we’ll use mine.’
He pulled out a black attaché case and opened it to reveal an array of tubes, powders, sticks and bits of hair that had Robyn gaping.
‘Tools of the trade,’ he explained briefly as he moistened a sponge. ‘Now, let’s do a bit of face-painting, shall we?’
He smoothed on some foundation after using a green concealer stick to reduce the worst effects of sunburn on her nose and chin. She complained that her face felt gluggy.
He selected a cream eye-shadow and created new depth to her green eyes. She complained that she looked like a panda.
He deftly shaped her brows with an eyebrow pencil, and lightly outlined her eyes before applying mascara. She blinked with every stroke. Finally he applied a little subtle blusher, and stood back to assess his work. ‘Not bad, despite the fight you put up. How does that look?’
She was silent for a moment, staring at her reflection.
‘Wow. I never knew I could look like that. I guess there is some point to all that muck after all.’ She broke into a grin. ‘That looks awesome! I could be on the cover of Vogue! Best I ever hoped for before was the Farmers’ Gazette. Thanks, Mike - I’m really impressed.’
When Colwyn called, Robyn arranged to meet him at the base of the tower for 7pm as planned. She felt like a million dollars in her new dress and make-up, hair beautifully groomed, ready to be seen in the best places.
Waiting at the base of the tower was perhaps a mistake though, as the area was crowded with teenagers jostling in line for the amusement arcade games and rides there. Her elegance stood out in sharp contrast to their ripped denims and faded black shirts, and she found herself the target of some unwanted attention.
‘What is this, Life-styles of the Rich and Famous?’ a tall black youth called out, providing his friends with the opportunity to applaud his wit with jeers and catcalls.
‘Hey lady, wanna take a ride with us?’
‘Whoo-ee, hubba hubba!’
She attempted to quell them with a glare, but they just laughed and made more comments. As the noise level rose, Robyn put two fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle that momentarily silenced them.
‘That’s enough, you spotty little tossers! What a sorry collection of shit-for-brains snot-nosed layabouts - just bugger off and play with yourselves, you wankers, and get the hell out of my face!’
She saw Colwyn step through the door and quickly changed her tone.
‘And if I catch you being so naughty again, you’ll have your bottoms smacked, all of you. Now go away!’
She moved quickly to intercept Colwyn and steered him to the elevator to make her escape.
‘Was there a problem?’ he asked, as the doors slid closed.
‘Oh no, just a bit of high spirits, really. Such young scamps! I say, you look terribly debonair tonight - oh!’
The elevator had just whisked them up several floors and they were now travelling up the outside of the slender concrete tower.
The city was spread before them, a glowing panorama in the warm evening sunlight, changing perspective as the elevator took them skywards. In seconds they were above the tallest skyscrapers and still climbing. Below, tiny cars crawled along the expressways, while miniature trains slid along tracks that gleamed like snail trails past the base of the tower.
Robyn gazed out of the window, entranced, until she realised that Colwyn was not beside her. S
he turned to see him lounging against the inner wall of the elevator, watching her.
‘I’m just enjoying the view from here,’ he said. ‘You look beautiful this evening.’
Robyn was glad he’d been able to keep the note of surprise out of his voice. Considering the only times they’d met before had been in the gym when she’d been unadorned and sporty, she felt she’d scrubbed up rather well for tonight’s occasion. She was interested to see that he was wearing a dashing white Panama hat with his immaculate white suit, and wondered what she would see when he entered the restaurant and had to remove it.
She felt her sinuses flinch at his cologne, which was sweet and rather strong in such an enclosed space.
‘Thank you, Mr. Symons. The city is rather lovely, isn’t it? Have you been here long?’
‘First, please call me Colwyn! We’re not so formal where I come from.’ He smiled engagingly. ‘I’ve been here about five years, although I do a lot of travelling on business so it always seems new and fresh to me every time I come back.’
‘Really? And where else have you travelled to besides Canada?’
She listened to his accent with growing disbelief, noting that it was a mix of New Zealand and Australian but tending towards North American. How very odd, considering that the TV interview she’d seen had given his background as pure middle-class New Zealand, growing up in Wellington and with a career based solely in that city. It appeared that Mr Symons was attempting to seem more cosmopolitan than he was.
The elevator door opened with a subdued ping, and Colwyn escorted her into the sparkling interior of the most glamorous restaurant she had ever seen. The head waiter took them to a table by the window where she allowed herself to be seated, with a crisp linen napkin laid across her lap. As Colwyn settled himself she couldn’t help looking down to see if she could see Mike’s place amid the tree-lined streets.
The head waiter took Colwyn’s jacket, and hovered, waiting for the hat. Robyn looked out of the corner of her eye and tried not to be caught watching. Colwyn carefully took off the Panama and handed it over, revealing an immaculate head of blond hair. Robyn tried not to gasp. The little bugger had bought a wig! She hoped it had cost him a fortune, and resolved to order the most expensive thing on the menu to dent his finances even further.
‘You were about to tell me about your travels, Colwyn,’ she said sweetly. ‘Have you been to England at all?’
‘Not as often as I would like. Which part are you from, Robyn?’
‘Oh, the South-East generally, around the Reading and Newbury area. A lovely part of the country, don’t you think?’ Let’s hear you make up something about that, she thought, considering you probably don’t know a thing about the place.
‘My visits have been further north than that - Manchester and Birmingham mostly. But I do want to visit the south one of these days. Do you have family there?’
Here we go, she thought. He’s sounding me out about this rich father Harry told him about. Better give the man what he wants, eh?
‘Yes, Daddy bought us a house right beside Newbury racecourse, so he can watch his horses run. He’s frightfully keen you know. Mummy gets a bit bored with it sometimes and goes up to London to do some shopping instead. Daddy says that she hands over his prize money to Harrods faster than he wins it!’
She couldn’t believe that he was listening so eagerly to her tale that the waiter had to cough to get their attention.
‘Excuse me Sir, Madam, are you ready to order?’
Colwyn looked at her enquiringly. She nodded, casting a quick eye down the menu.
‘Garlic and herb bread, fresh asparagus spears, the sole in white wine, and hm, let’s see - you don’t have any lamb on the menu, do you? Oh well, I’ll have the fillet steak then – rare, please.’
Colwyn indicated his choices, and selected a wine from the impressive red tasselled list that the maitre d’ had handed him, with much overblown consultation about vintage, ageing, brix levels and fermentation. Iced water was brought and settled amid the pristine linen and gleaming silverware.
‘So, Robyn, what brings you to Toronto?’ asked Colwyn, leaning forward and gazing directly into her eyes.
Robyn sat back in the tapestry-covered chair and prepared to play him like a fish.
‘Oh, it was Daddy’s idea, really. He thinks I should find out about some silly old inheritance that I’m going to get in a few months time. An elderly uncle, quite gaga in the end, thought his bequests should wait until our twenty-fifth birthdays. My sister was frightfully cheesed off ‘cause she’s got to wait years longer than me.’
She was quite proud of this supportive detail, but realised that she had better limit herself to things she could easily remember. This invention of fiction was all rather new and she could very well slip up if she wasn’t careful.
‘Surely you’re younger than twenty four?’ he said smoothly. ‘With that perfect skin you don’t look a day over eighteen.’
‘Well I do try to look after myself,’ she said modestly. ‘That’s why I spend time in the gym whenever I can.’
‘And that certainly is working well for you. How lucky that you came to stay in my building,’ he smiled. ‘Not only beautiful, but coming into some money as well. It must have been Fate.’
‘Why is that, Colwyn?’ She looked at him coyly. ‘You’re not planning to marry me and get your hands on my fortune, are you?’
He laughed, a shade uneasily she thought.
‘Robyn! I’m an investment advisor, I can help you build your fortune. I certainly didn’t intend any ulterior motive… no matter how tempting that might be.’
He opened his blue eyes wide and fired charm down both barrels.
Robyn managed a simper.
‘An investment advisor? Well that might be handy. Perhaps you could help me make some quick profits while I’m here! Daddy thinks I’m hopeless with figures - can you picture his face if I go back to England with heaps more money than Uncle Josh left me? Oh that would be fun! Can you do that sort of thing, Colwyn?’
He was practically salivating, she could tell. She began to understand how he’d managed to convince people to give him their money - people heard and believed what they wanted to hear. She was surprised that such a ruse seemed to be working on him though, given his experience in the field of greed and deception. She was delighted to use his own techniques against him.
‘Do you really think you can do something clever with my money if I give it to you?’
‘Absolutely! I’ll be very happy to give you all the financial advice you’ll need, Robyn - it will be a pleasure. When did you say the inheritance is due?’ He leaned forward casually and poured a glass of water.
‘On my birthday, September the tenth. My cousin’s going to give me a super party, but she won’t tell me where yet. I’ll be sure to invite you though.’
He laughed. ‘Robyn! As if I’d let you forget! Now, for a treat that’s a little sooner on the calendar, I’m already planning to take you for a tour of Lake Ontario in my boat. Whenever you say the word we can cast off and head out on the water together.’
‘Ooh, that sounds like fun! I’d love to see your boat. Does it sail fast? I do adore the look of speeding yachts as the wind almost pushes them over!’
His face fell slightly.
‘Actually it’s a motorboat. A 38 foot launch with twin Volvo Penta engines for lots of power, and it’s great for water-skiing if you like that sort of thing too?’
‘Golly, how super. I can’t wait to see it.’ She wondered briefly if she was overdoing it, but he seemed to believe her enthusiasm.
‘I spend most of my free time on board when the weather’s right. And if I’m not boating here, I go out of town to a rather delightful cottage in the Kawartha Lakes area, about an hour north of here. It’s totally secluded and the perfect place to get away from it all. I paddle a canoe on the lake there and do a spot of fishing. Wonderfully relaxing.’
The wine arrived then, and Colwyn
made a great show of tasting it and allowing it to be poured. Privately Robyn thought she’d tasted better from the Marlborough vineyards back home and was frustrated that she couldn’t say so.
Colwyn lifted his glass to her and proposed a toast. ‘Here’s to the good life.’
‘Yes indeed!’ She took a large gulp. Enjoy it while you can, you devious little snake. It may not last much longer.
‘How did you say goodnight to him?’ asked Mike with interest, as they discussed the date later back at his apartment. ‘I was wondering how you were going to get away from him at the end of the evening.’
‘Well, when I got in the elevator with him in the apartment building, I just jumped out at the second floor before he had a chance to react. I called out goodnight as the doors closed, and he just smiled rather weakly and waved goodbye.’
She paced across the floor scrubbing her face with her hands, trying to ease the tension that the night had built up. ‘Oh God, I hope I haven’t blown it. It was going really well until I spilled some sauce, and then I rubbed my eyes and smeared my make-up. He rather seemed to lose interest after that.’
Mike looked at her and laughed.
‘Hardly surprising! You’re really not used to dressing up and wearing make-up, are you? Look at yourself now, Miss Panda-eyes!’
She glanced at the mascara on her hands then peered into a wall mirror.
‘Aw, man! I give up!’
She headed for the bathroom, muttering dark curses against Revlon, Max Factor and all their kind. Hopefully Colwyn’s eagerness to get his hands on her money would overcome any residual distaste at her less-than-perfect appearance.
She knew she’d succeeded when he called her next day to repeat his invitation to go out on his boat.
To take full advantage of the outing, she prepared carefully. She packed a sports bag with the usual items for a day on the water - hat, towel, sun-screen lotion, insect repellent, swimsuit, and a sweat-shirt in case of cool breezes. Then in a side pocket she tucked her water pistol filled with bleach, a couple of items from the drug-store, and two bottles of fruit juice.
