Screen Savers

by Quintin Jardine

  ‘Very economical. But what if I hadn’t overheard this dream of yours and I’d turned up in jeans, alongside you in the white dress?’

  She snorted. ‘As long as you turn up, I don’t care if you’re in your M and S boxers. But don’t worry about that; Susie’s helping me with the dress, and it’s Mike’s job to make sure that you turn up appropriately clad. The white tux that you wear on the telly sometimes, that’ll be fine.’

  ‘Sod that. You’re wearing new - I’m wearing new.’

  ‘That’ll be good news for Slater’s,’ Prim murmured. Then she yawned. ‘But come on. You still haven’t answered my first question. What’s keeping you awake?’

  ‘My brain.’ I told her. ‘My over-active brain. I’ve been thinking about my Dad’s throwaway line today, and about what Liam said tonight. They’re right, both of them. Just lately, everywhere I’ve gone, mayhem’s dogged my fucking footsteps.

  ‘Susie comes to see us, and someone cremates her car right on our doorstep. I meet Noosh in Aberdeen and some gangster takes a shot at her. I go down to London with the GWA and two guys turn up looking to break my arms. I take the boys out for the day and someone shoves wee Colin into a bloody great hole.

  ‘On the basis of all that, my love - and I’m not even going to think of some of the other things that have happened over the last couple of years - am I, or am I not, an unlucky guy to be around?’

  Prim laid her left hand flat on my stomach. ‘On the basis of most things that have happened to me since I met you - and I’m not just talking about the silly money that seems to flow in our direction all the time - I’d say you’ve brought me more luck than anyone I’ve ever met.

  ‘Don’t get paranoid over a couple of silly remarks, Oz, please. Luck had nothing to do with any of those things, anyway, and none of them save one had anything to do with you. Someone - Stephen Donn, from the looks of it - had made a very specific threat to Susie before her car blew up. Noosh What’shername seems to have brought some heavy baggage back from Russia. As for Colin, we had that report of youngsters being seen in the vicinity, and shoving the wee chap into that Dungeon was so reckless and stupid that it only makes sense as a kids’ prank.’

  She paused, stifling another yawn. ‘The only thing that concerns you directly, is the London incident. We don’t know for sure who sent those men to do you. Maybe it was Stephen Donn giving you a warning not to get too close, maybe it was your rejected admirer or her husband, maybe it was someone completely different.

  ‘Whoever was behind it was in deadly earnest. Luck didn’t come into that, either.’

  ‘That’s a comforting thought.’

  ‘You haven’t had any trouble since, have you?’

  ‘Not personally, no.’

  ‘Right, forget it.’ Her arm slipped round my waist and pulled me gently down until I was lying beside her, my face close to hers on the pillow. ‘Now, since you woke me at this unsocial hour, the least you can do is . . .’

  Clearly, my luck had taken a turn for the better.

  Chapter 32

  For all that I indulge in them every now and again, the truth is that I’ve never really understood mother-in-law jokes. The best humour, as I see it, has to be based on reality and the concept of the Wife’s Old Dear as a descendant of the velocirapter runs counter to my experience.

  I’ve always found that it’s the daughters who have the really sharp teeth, and the really ripping claws.

  Granted, my first experience of the species was somewhat unusual, given that Mary was both my mother-in-law and my stepmother, for in either role she’s as kind and gentle a woman as you’ll meet in a day’s march. Nevertheless, I didn’t anticipate any problems with her successor, whom I’d liked from the day we met.

  No, the prospect of going with Elanore Phillips to Gleneagles Hotel to make the wedding arrangements did not, of itself, make me particularly nervous. What did worry me were the strictures laid down by Prim before I set off for Auchterarder. ‘You know what Mum’s like,’ I had been warned. ‘She loves a big production, and she’ll try to push you into it.

  ‘I want a very informal do. You can sign up for the poshest fork buffet they have and for the top of the range wines, but I do not want a sit-down lunch and formal speeches. Dad will propose a toast to us, we will each of us say a few words in reply, and that’s it. Given our history, I will not put you through the ordeal of making a full-scale speech and having people hanging on your every word looking for possible references to Jan.

  ‘Nor will I put myself through the ordeal of having to listen to it.’

  She paused for breath. ‘But Mum would, you see. You’ve heard her; all she can think of is the fact that when Dawn got married quietly in the States, she was somehow cheated out of something. She doesn’t see anything but that. She’ll use every weapon in her arsenal to try to cajole or bully you into agreeing to a formal job . . . but don’t you dare. She isn’t even seeing the guest list: I’m damned if I’ll have her stuffing it with her Old Biddy pals from the church.’

  After that, heading up to Perthshire I felt like an ancient Greek warrior, given his shield and told to return bearing it in victory or borne dead upon it in defeat.

  She wasn’t wrong either. I had never visited Semple House on my own before - on every occasion I had been there, Prim had too - but when I arrived I was greeted as if I’d ridden up on a donkey along a road strewn with palm-leaves. Remembering how that story carries on, I didn’t feel too comfortable.

  I had planned to take Elanore and David to lunch at Gleneagles before she and I met the functions people, but the table was set when I arrived. One of the things I like about Prim’s mum is that there’s no subtlety about her - the tactic was clear: soften up the boy with her awesome kitchen skills, then go for the finisher. She opened her campaign over the soup. ‘Before I forget, Oz,’ she said, gauchely. She reached into a cavernous handbag and produced a white envelope. ‘Give this to Primavera for me, won’t you. It’s a list of my Auchterarder friends whom I’d like you to invite.’

  I took it from her without comment, then sneaked a quick glance at David. I was impressed by the depth of his concentration on the Cullen Skink.

  The bell for Round Two sounded over the steak and kidney pudding. ‘You know, Oz,’ she began, confiding in me as a member of the family, ‘I love my older daughter dearly, as does David, and as do you, but we all have to admit, don’t we, that she can be very wilful.’ As she spoke, her husband forked up a particularly large morsel of dumpling, cleverly taking himself out of the discussion.

  ‘She knows her own mind, does Primavera,’ I conceded. I was about to add, ‘And mine too,’ but I stopped myself just in time.

  ‘Yes, my dear, but what she has to realise is that this isn’t just her day, it’s yours too.’ Her big punch almost landed, but just in time, I followed David’s example and dived behind a smokescreen of steak and kidney.

  Prim’s father has a remarkable metabolism. If I ate lunches like that on a regular basis, I’d have trouble fitting into Everett’s living room, yet he manages to stay slim and straight-backed. I have come to suspect that he has developed a method of burning off calories by pure concentration; this might explain why he’s such a quiet, unworldly bloke.

  I made it through the treacle pudding and coffee without giving any ground, but I knew that what had happened up to that point came under the heading of mere skirmishing. The real battle would be fought at Gleneagles.

  Our appointment there was set for two-thirty p.m.; I thought of asking whether David would like to join us, but that would have been unkind of me and potentially dangerous for him. So Elanore and I set off together in the Freelander - she’s a big woman, not built for a Z3.

  We were greeted in the foyer of the majestic, baronial hotel by the functions manager and her young male assistant. ‘Mr Blackstone,’ the middle-aged lady exclaimed, hand outstretched, ‘welcome to our hotel. And welcome also . . .’ I introduced Elanore.

  ‘Ah, the
mother of the bride. How nice that your daughter can rely on you at this time.’

  I decided that I’d better take a grip of this meeting from the start. ‘I take it that you’ve had a chance to consider my fiancée’s e-mail setting out our requirements.’

  ‘Yes, we have. We have some thoughts on them. Let’s start with the date.’ She led us through to a small office behind reception. ‘This is fairly short notice, you understand,’ she said, showing us to seats round a small conference table. ‘We’re heavily booked, as always, but we can offer you a function suite on the first Saturday in November, if you can be ready in time. Beyond that there’s nothing until February.’

  ‘That will be fine,’ I said.

  ‘Excellent. I had you pencilled in for that, so I’ll confirm it this afternoon. Now, there’s one thing I want to raise with you. Ms Phillips’ e-mail said that you want a buffet reception. That’s quite unusual for a wedding.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Elanore concurred, by my side. ‘Perhaps you could offer suggestions for a formal meal.’

  The manager nodded. ‘We anticipated that, Madam.’ She nodded to her assistant, who delved into a big, leather-bound folder and produced several sheets. ‘We have some sample menus here.’ The young man handed them straight to Elanore.

  ‘And the buffet menus, please,’ I said, with a smile, holding out my hand.

  ‘Certainly, sir.’ He produced several more sheets and handed them over.

  ‘As to the wedding ceremony itself,’ his boss continued, speaking more to Prim’s mum than to me, ‘we’ll have theatre-style seating for that in your suite, then give you a small break-out area for drinks while we set up for the meal.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ I said grabbing the baton once again, ‘and for a buffet set-up you can serve drinks straightaway and simply move the seats around the walls.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the woman. I forced her to look at me. ‘The thing is, you see,’ I continued, ‘my fiancée, as her mother would be the second person to tell you, is a very determined person. And the thing is, also, so am I. We want all of our guests to be comfortable and relaxed.

  ‘There are two guys coming to our wedding who weigh a third of a ton between them. Either one of them could eat your chef, tall hat and all, if he felt peckish. We don’t want that to happen, so what we need is the best hot and cold buffet you can provide. There will be forty guests, so if you cater for fifty, that will allow for our large friends.’

  There was a chilly silence beside me, but we were in the last round, and I knew I had to go for a clean knock-out. This wasn’t a GWA wrestling match, this was serious stuff.

  ‘We want you to serve Krug after the ceremony, then Premier Cru Chablis and a good Fleurie with the buffet. When we reach the coffee stage, there should be a fully stocked bar available.’

  ‘On a cash basis, sir?’ The young assistant asked, looking up from his notes.

  ‘Don’t be silly. These are our friends, and our guests.’

  ‘Dancing, sir,’ the manager interrupted. ‘What about dancing?’

  ‘No dancing, thank you. The thought of Jerry Gradi doing the Twist just beggars belief. If he side-swiped someone with his arse, it would be a hospital case. We know our friends, we know ourselves, and we want everyone to be relaxed.’ I paused, and looked at Elanore.

  ‘Most of all, I want . . . I want Primavera to have the day of her life, and I will see that she does.’

  I turned back to the manager. ‘Are you clear on all of that?’

  She smiled. ‘Yes, Mr Blackstone, we’ll meet all of your wishes.’

  ‘Good. Send us a cost projection as soon as you can.’ I took out my cheque-book. ‘In the meantime, let me leave you a deposit. Two grand be enough?’

  ‘Quite enough. We’ll look forward to seeing you on the day.’

  ‘You’ll be seeing me the night before,’ I said. ‘I want you to reserve a suite for me, and another for my best man, Mr Dylan and his partner, Ms Gantry. I will yield to one tradition, that I shouldn’t see the bride just before the wedding.’

  Chapter 33

  ‘I could say that my daughter has you well trained, Oz,’ said Elanore, back in the kitchen at Semple House. The drive back from Gleneagles had been silent, and I had felt guilty for every moment of it about having to sock it to her in the way I had.

  ‘I could say that,’ she continued, ‘but I won’t, because it wouldn’t be true. You’re your own man and you understand Primavera better than anyone she’s ever known.’ She smiled. ‘You handled me beautifully too. When Prim told me that you were coming up to make the arrangements I thought I had a chance. I should have known better.’

  She held out a hand. ‘Here; you’d better give me back that guest list. She’d just tear it up anyway.’

  I gave a relieved laugh and handed back the envelope which she had forced on me earlier. As I did so, David came into the room. He looked at us, from one to the other as if checking for bloodstains. ‘Business done?’ he asked. ‘Arrangements made?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elanore answered. ‘I’m even looking forward to it.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he exclaimed. It was the most emphatic thing I’d ever heard him say.

  He turned to me. ‘Oz, I could do with a walk. I expect you could too, after that lunch. Care to join me before you head back to Glasgow?’

  ‘Sure.’ I agreed at once; I had never been in the company of Prim’s Dad outside his own home. Just as I’m very fond of Elanore, so I’ve liked David Phillips, retired furniture maker turned wood-carver, from the moment I met him, but I found him a hard man to get to know. He’s the antithesis of my own father, who wears everything on the outside.

  I’d discussed him with Miles, and I knew that he was no closer to him than I. So, although I had planned to head straight back to Glasgow, I jumped at the chance of a wander around Auchterarder with him.

  It was a pleasant afternoon as we stepped out of the gate of Semple House, into the street. The Perthshire town has two claims to fame; one is Gleneagles, which is truly one of the world’s finest hotels, while the other centres around its assertion that it has the longest Main Street in Scotland. That’s why they call it the ‘Lang Toun’.

  Semple House is right on the edge of Auchterarder; it turned out that David’s plan was to walk the length of the legendary street and back again - a fair hike, but we both had the fuel for it.

  We walked in silence for a while, until I began to think that conversation wasn’t on the agenda at all. So when David did speak, it took me by surprise for a second. ‘I’ve always found that there are two ways to handle Elanore when she has her mind set on something,’ he burst out, with no preamble. ‘One is to have a screaming row, and the other is to capitulate.

  ‘I’ve never been one for screaming,’ he murmured, wistfully.

  ‘Now when the girls lived at home, we had some ructions then. Dawn’s the quiet one, like me, but Primavera . . .’ He smiled. ‘As you’ve learned for yourself, she won’t back down from anyone, never would. I must admit that when I heard Prim’s plans for the wedding, then listened to Elanore, I thought we were in for warfare. Then, when I heard that you were coming up to make the arrangements, not her, well to be frank Oz, I thought you were being lined up as a human sacrif ice.

  ‘Yet here you are, having had your own way, and still with the regulation number of arms and legs, and still able to hear. How the hell did you manage it?’

  ‘I haven’t had my own way, David,’ I corrected him. ‘I’ve had ours. Prim and I have a simple rule; if we don’t agree on something, we don’t do it. When we have decided on something together, nothing will shift us. As far as our wedding’s concerned, the way it’s going to be is the way we both want it. Essentially, that’s what I told Elanore. I hope I didn’t upset her.’

  ‘Upset her? You impressed her, my lad. I must say, I like that principle of yours; do only what both of you want.’ He scratched his chin, ‘Too late for me, though. Too old to change.’

&nb
sp; I looked sideways at him as we walked. ‘You don’t fool me for a second, you know,’ I told him. ‘Whatever accommodation you and Elanore have, you’re as happy as Larry with it. I’ve never heard her propose anything that you didn’t give the nod to. But have you ever thought that she only suggests things she knows you’ll approve of? When was the last time you let her do something you really didn’t fancy?

  ‘The pair of you are just like Prim and me in effect. You just go about it in a different way, that’s all.’

  David gave a gruff chuckle, then lapsed back into thoughtful mode. We walked on through the centre of the town, until we reached the outskirts on the other side, and turned to retrace our steps. Auchterarder is on a main tourist drag, so there was plenty of bustle around its centre, people moving from shop to shop, buying everything from scarves to short-bread.

  ‘You know there is one thing I’d like to be able to do more, Oz,’ my future father-in-law said as he side-stepped a massive, cashmere-wrapped American matron.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I have a secret passion,’ he said. Whatever it was, I thought, it was a well-kept secret. ‘For draught Guinness.’ Yes, very well-kept indeed.

  ‘The trouble is,’ he went on, ‘I can’t indulge very often. We’re Churchy folk, Elanore and I, and if I was seen plodding down to the local every night tongues would wag. Anyway, I don’t like going into pubs on my own; never have.’

  I took the hint. ‘Fancy a pint,’ I asked.

  ‘Thought you’d never ask, my boy.’

  We crossed the street to a stone-built hotel with a public bar, and stepped inside. The place was surprisingly busy for the time of day, so I had to ease myself into the small counter. The barman looked up, but not at me. ‘Yes, gents.’

  ‘This bloke’s first,’ said a voice behind me.

  I thanked him, without turning round. ‘Pint of Guinness and a pint of lager,’ I ordered.