From Nemesis Island

by Christine Mustchin

  ‘Don’t throw anything else away.’

  Richard turned to see Trish standing in the doorway.

  ‘I’ve cancelled Fi. We need to talk. Is there any food left?’

  ‘There’s still a starter and dessert and a load of bread and cheese.’

  ‘That’s okay then. Shall we sit down?’

  They both approached the table and sat picking at the plate of salami, ham and bresaola in silence.

  ‘More champagne?’ Richard ventured to ask at last.

  ‘No thanks. I’ll have a glass of red wine though, please.’

  Richard obliged. There was never a shortage of wine in the flat. He poured himself a glass as well and they sat opposite each other, each staring into their own glass as though to seek inspiration.

  ‘I’m sorry I threw the champagne at you.’

  ‘Bit of a waste really.’

  Trish looked witheringly at him.

  ‘Sorry, shouldn’t be flippant.’ He paused. ‘I apologise for calling you a bitch. I didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Accepted.’

  There was another more prolonged pause.

  ‘Shall I get the dessert?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘More wine?’

  ‘No more red for me. I wouldn’t mind finishing the champagne though.’

  There was no more conversation until they had finished eating.

  ‘I’ll make coffee,’ volunteered Richard.

  They sat side by side on the sofa, stirring the coffee with deliberation. Simultaneously they turned to each other and began to speak.

  ‘Where do?….’

  ‘What shall?…..’

  Another pause.

  ‘After you,’ said Richard.

  ‘No, I’d rather you said your piece first.’

  ‘I was just going to ask where we should go from here.’

  ‘I think we should give it a break, Dick, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ll move out then.’

  ‘That would be best.’

  There was not much point in talking after that and Richard spent another night on the sofa.

  12

  The bathroom mirror would have looked more in place in a Hollywood’s star’s dressing room than in a hotel. It was surrounded by light bulbs that cast a non-too flattering light on anyone who approached the glass. Perfect for applying makeup, though. Trish thought it exemplified the whole ambience of the hotel. Five star it may have pretensions to be but tasteful it certainly was not. She stood looking at herself, wondering what awaited her when she went back to join him. He had invited himself to her hotel suite and there had been no way to refuse. In fact, if she were honest, she hadn’t wanted to refuse. It was not just the effects of what she had drunk which were responsible for her feeling of excitement. Since arriving in the city at lunchtime she had come to understand the cliché swept off her feet. He hadn’t left her side save to allow her time to unpack and she had duly succumbed to the pleasure of a gourmet lunch followed by a chauffeur driven excursion of the city. Another brief hiatus from his company allowed her to dress for the opera that evening, an engagement she was prepared to suffer rather than enjoy. But he had reserved a box and the ubiquitous champagne had appeared. This, combined with his continued charm, permitted her to concede that even opera had its moments. Dressed in an immaculate DJ, his old-fashioned manners were the perfect complement and she did nothing to resist his flattery. Despite his short stature, she found he had a charisma that was utterly compelling. When he kissed her hand graciously, she didn’t laugh as a London girl should, but instead accepted the gesture with an unexpected sense of anticipation.

  Now he sat on the divan on the other side of the bathroom door waiting for her to join him. She tried to remind herself she was here purely on business and that tomorrow would be a much more sober affair with guided tours of his clinic facilities and an afternoon without the benefit of his company. At length she opened the door and approached him. Room service had arrived bringing smoked salmon and caviar: a post theatre indulgence.

  ‘It’s been a marvellous day,’ she said sincerely. ‘I can hardly believe I’m here on business.’

  ‘It’s been a pleasure to escort you and I’m sure we’ll manage to make the business aspect of this trip congenial as well. Still the evening’s not over yet.’ He lifted his glass and they both drank a silent toast.

  ‘Tell me a little about yourself,’ he continued.

  It was an unexpected question and she had no ready answer to hand.

  ‘Don’t be shy,’ he prompted.

  ‘It’s not that. I don’t think I have much to tell really. As you know, I work in Public Relations. I’ve been with the company for five years. I’ve always lived in London; I went to university there too. My parents are alive and well and I’m an only child.’

  ‘You’re not married I see,’ he said, indicating her hand.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘Actually no. We’ve just split up.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t be long before you find someone else.’

  Jalbis looked at her intensely. There was that thrill again: a visceral sensation reminiscent of her years of teenage infatuations.

  She wondered what it would be like to sleep with someone other than Dick. It had been a long time.

  ‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said and went in his turn to the bathroom. Trish stood up, unable to sit compliantly waiting for his return. What did she want? What should she do? She walked over to the drinks’ cabinet in the corner of the room. A liqueur would help. There was a good cognac. She helped herself.

  ‘Would you like a brandy?’ she asked as he reappeared.

  ‘An excellent idea,’ he replied, moving to join her.

  She turned and handed him a glass, enjoying the frisson of his proximity. She lay a hand gently on his arm and leant forward to kiss him on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you for a wonderful evening.’

  Even as she spoke she felt him pull away, his body tensed against her advance. For a moment he seemed to freeze. It was the matter of seconds but unmistakable. Trish froze too with embarrassment and regret. She had made a mistake. She had misread the signs. It had never happened to her before. What had she always said? ‘Never mix business with pleasure.’ She recovered her professional aplomb, at least superficially, and was gratified that he was able to do the same. The conversation passed to more general matters with acceptable small talk about climate change and environmental issues. She was not sorry to see him take his leave and she accepted his kiss on the hand, this time as the platonic gesture that was intended.

  ‘You know, I am involved in the production of DVDs for a certain sector of the entertainment market. You would feature really well in them.’

  And with that curious parting remark he left.

  13

  The necessity of Trish’s volte-face as regards her attitude to Jalbis Zachion was something she didn’t wish to dwell on. Though she still flushed inwardly at the thought of her misplaced feelings and inappropriate gesture, nothing of this seemed to have concerned Jalbis himself. He was as cordial and polite as ever and Trish made no further errors of judgement regarding his behaviour, even if she did wonder what prompted him to rebuff her advance. He had duly conducted her around his department, and even taken her to see the operating theatres, answering all her questions without hesitation. He had shown her all the original documents that she was required to verify and he had photocopied them for her and combined them with other information that he thought she would find of relevance in preparing her promotional material. After a brief lunch in the Consultant’s dining room, he had taken his leave of her and gone off on a business engagement. She had been taken on a private excursion of the city’s major art gallery and came away believing that this was the only way to view paintings, no crowds and the curator on hand to explain and answer questions.

  But it was back to business now as she prepared for their final meetin
g on the morning of her departure. She was scanning the information that he had given her. She already had the contract prepared. Damn. The page detailing termination conditions was missing. Not like her. How had that happened? She’d have to get Jane to fax it to her. Thank God for a good PA. She put down the folder of information and pressed speed dial on her mobile.

  ‘Hi, Jane. Trish here. …..Yes, it’s going well. Got the last meeting in five minutes’ time. Listen, I need the contract page with the termination conditions. Can you get hold of it? I don’t seem to have it here. Give me a call later and I’ll give you the fax number. Thanks.’

  She snapped shut the mobile rather too abruptly and it shot out of her hand.

  ‘Oh hell.’

  She scrabbled around on the wooden floor, slipping on the shiny parquet surface until she retrieved it, mercifully intact. She dialled her home number to check it was still working.

  ‘Hallo.’ It was Richard’s voice.

  ‘Dick!’

  ‘Oh, hi Trish. Have you dialled the wrong number?’

  ‘Apparently.’ She hung up. She’d deal with him when she got back.

  She rushed out of the room and took a taxi for the brief ride to his office. She didn’t want to be late for this meeting. He’d given precise directions as to the location of his office in the hospital and she was almost there, with two minutes to spare. She could see the door at the end of the corridor. A man was leaving the room. He briefly turned towards her, his eyes fixed on the papers in his hand. Then he turned away down a side corridor. She had seen him twice before, at the airport. His goatee beard was unmistakeable.

  Jalbis greeted her politely but appeared tense, and omitted to take her hand, either to shake or kiss it. She tried hard not to think that she herself could be blamed for his change in demeanour. She was also concerned that Jane had not rung her back yet. She matched his tension with her own.

  ‘Do sit down? Would you like a coffee?’

  ‘Please.’ Anything for a distraction.

  He had not even time to summon his secretary when the phone rang. He spent several minutes listening and then turned to Trish.

  ‘Would you excuse me? This will take a little time. I’ll use the phone in the other office.’

  He left. Immediately there was another phone call. This time it was on Trish’s mobile.

  ‘Jane. Any luck? Great. I’ll just get the fax number.’

  She put down the phone and only then realised that she had left the folder with the fax number in the hotel.

  ‘I’ll have to call you back, Jane.’

  Trish was not pleased. She hated inefficiency and was not accustomed to succumbing to it. It would not give a good impression. She was about to unleash a catalogue of expletives when she saw an identical folder on the desk. She went over and opened it. As expected, it held the same information as her folder. She leafed through the documents until she found what she was looking for.

  That finished, she began to tidy the sheets that she had disordered in her search. Something fell from the folder onto the desk. It had not been included in her own pack. It was a mock up of a brochure that she hadn’t seen before, including some photos. She couldn’t help looking at them with a certain amount of fascination and a definite amount of revulsion. They were not images that she could have seen before, but she had a good idea what they showed. If what she suspected were true, then her association with Jalbis Zachion was about to come to an abrupt end. She had to be sure though. There were six images. She took one and shut the folder. When Jalbis Zachion returned she was sitting patiently with a neutral expression on her face. He apologised for his absence.

  ‘Now I promise there will be no more interruptions.’ He picked up the folder.

  ‘I trust all this is in order and that now we can move matters forward and discuss the contract.’

  For once Trish was happy to call on her lapse in efficiency. It would serve to buy time.

  ‘It’s my turn to apologise now. I don’t have a draft contract on me. It’s in my folder, which I’ve left back in my hotel suite. I can send you a fax when I get back to the UK and that way I can talk to my boss before contacting you.’

  ‘I see. Is there a problem?’

  It was not a question Trish wanted to hear.

  ‘You have excellent services here in your clinic and, from what I’ve been shown, all your documentation is in order. I’ll be reporting as much to my boss and then we can move on to the next stage.’

  ‘Very well. I was hoping we could have finalised things today. What a pity. There doesn’t seem to be much else to discuss at this point then.’

  Jalbis Zachion’s voice did not betray any emotion.

  ‘I’ll arrange for a taxi to collect you from your hotel for the airport later this morning. Please excuse me if I cannot accompany you. I have a theatre list starting soon.’

  ‘Not at all. And thank you again for your hospitality. It has been most interesting.’

  They shook hands and he smiled, but Trish noticed a chill in the surgeon’s eyes.

  It was not until she was safely at home that Trish dared to pull the photo out of her bag. If it had been discovered by the airport authorities she would have been in big trouble.

  14

  Something was missing. It soon became obvious. Richard’s coat had gone from the peg in the hallway. She hadn’t registered the significance until she saw the note that he’d left on the hall table. Beside it lay the key to the flat. So he’d gone.

  ‘Just came to pick up some stuff. Didn’t mean to upset you when you phoned. See you around. Dick.’

  She didn’t deny a pang of regret. She could have done with someone to talk to right now. The photo called for her attention and decisions. She hadn’t dared look at it en route home. She went into the living room and pulled the photo from her handbag. She sat down and forced herself to study it. If it were what she suspected, then there was no possibility that Jalbis could be accepted as a client. That was the easy decision. What other action to take was a different matter. She was tempted to phone Dick for advice. She was sure he wouldn’t refuse. But to be honest, he was not really the best person to ask. She needed a professional opinion. David would be much more suitable. He’d be happy to help out. She looked at her watch. He’d be at work. She dialled the number.

  ‘Garrett surgery, good afternoon.’

  ‘Hallo. Would it be possible to speak to Dr. Smith please?’

  ‘I’m afraid he’s already begun his afternoon surgery and he has someone with him at the moment. I can put you through to the duty doctor if it’s an emergency.’

  ‘No, that’s all right. I really need to speak to him in person.’

  ‘If you give me your details I’ll give him a message and he can ring you back when he’s free. It may not be till the end of surgery though.’

  ‘What time does he finish?’

  ‘His last appointment is at 6pm but he sometimes overruns. Can I tell him who rang?’

  ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll leave it thanks.’

  She should have expected that. She’d never managed to speak to her own GP by phone. She thought of the alternatives. She had excluded Dick. She could go back to the office and talk to her boss. She was not expected till tomorrow though, and she really wanted to get her ideas clear before then. She took her case into the bedroom and began unpacking. Dick had done a good job of clearing out his stuff. She didn’t care to think what his studio apartment would look like now. Were men congenitally untidy?

  ‘I bet David isn’t.’ She uttered the thought out loud.

  She looked at her watch again. She’d got plenty of time. She’d go to his surgery and catch him as he finished.

  By six o’clock she was facing the receptionist.

  ‘I’m sorry the surgery is closed.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’ve just come to meet Dr Smith.’

  ‘Have you got an appointment?’

  ‘No, I’m a friend.’

  ‘I see. Is h
e expecting you?’

  ‘Well no actually. I didn’t want to disturb him while he was working. I thought I’d just catch him as he left.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ll have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘But I’ve come especially.’

  ‘That’s as maybe but I don’t know who you are. He might not want to see you.’

  Trish couldn’t see the problem.

  ‘Oh this is ridiculous.’ She had raised her voice. Fortunately the waiting room was empty.

  ‘Just tell him Trish is here.’

  ‘He still has someone with him at the moment. I’m not disturbing him just to tell him a friend is waiting.’

  ‘Then what do you suppose I should do?’

  ‘As I said before I think you should leave.’

  ‘Well thanks for your help.’ Trish was not usually prone to sarcasm but it was either that or outright anger. Fortunately at that point David’s door opened. He was accompanying his last patient to the reception desk. He was looking intently at a document in his hand.

  ‘Janet will make you an appointment for next week,’ he said.

  Relieved of the final professional commitment of the day he turned and saw Trish. Trish noticed that the receptionist opened her mouth to speak, but, since David was already giving Trish a friendly hug, she thought better of it and returned to her computer screen and the job of making an appointment.

  ‘Trish. What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘Hi David. I hope you don’t mind my coming. It seemed the only way I could be sure of catching you today.’

  ‘That’s okay. It’s good to see you. Is anything wrong?’

  ‘Not exactly. I just need some advice if you could spare a minute.’

  ‘It must be urgent if you’ve come here. Come into my room. We can chat there.’

  He turned to the receptionist. ‘You go on home. I’ll set the alarms.’

  She gave him a disapproving look.

  ‘Very well. Don’t forget to lock your room.’

  ‘This way Trish.’