Kissing Through a Pane of Glass (19 page)

***

That evening I called Lee, and asked her to help me.

‘But what can I do?’ she said, somewhat surprised to hear from me.

‘The café where you met her; can you remember where it was?’

‘Yes, it was on Charing Cross Road... I don’t remember the name of the place, but I’d recognise it. Why?’

‘Did she seem comfortable there; I mean, do you suppose it was a local haunt of hers, a place she went to regularly?’

Lee paused. ‘I couldn’t say, Michael. It was quite a while ago, and I was so concerned about seeing Angela that I wouldn’t have picked up on something like that.’

‘Well, it might be worth a try. I mean, perhaps the staff know her; perhaps she still goes occasionally... someone might know something.’

‘It’s a bit of a long shot, don’t you think?’

‘Lee, I’ve nothing else to go on; I have to try. I’ll go crazy just sitting around waiting.’

Lee paused. ‘Well, I’ll be happy to take you there. How about we have lunch there?’

‘That’d be great.’

‘Fine. Meet me tomorrow outside Foyles, twelve o’clock. Okay?’

‘It’s a date. And thank you.’

‘It’s okay, really; it’ll be nice to see you again. just... well, I don’t want to sound like a wet blanket, but just for your own sake, don’t get your hopes up, Michael. It may lead to nothing.’

‘I know. But I have to have hope, Lee. I have to.’

‘Yes, of course. See you tomorrow then.’

***

Lee was quite right; it was very unlikely that anything would come of returning to the café, but at least I felt as if I was doing something rather than just sitting around waiting for a miracle. I slept well that night.

I woke to a crisp, bright morning, the sort of winter’s day that makes December in England a bearable experience. The winds were blowing briskly, clearing away cobwebs from every corner, and the clouds sped by as if someone had pushed the fast forward button, allowing a pale yellow sun to show through now and then and cast its anaemic shadows on the frosty ground. Even the leafless trees, shivering in their nakedness, seemed overly excited, waving their branches with a greater urgency than I’d previously noticed. A sense of anticipation was threaded through the frozen air; wisps of expectancy were already woven into the fabric of the nascent day.

As I climbed the stairs out of Tottenham Court Road station, I was gripped by a sense of mounting excitement. I was en route to a rendezvous with a beautiful stranger in order to track down her sister, my missing lover; it was like a scenario from an American movie. What would we discover? If any information were forthcoming, where would it lead us? What would we find at the end of the track? As I wandered down the Charing Cross Road, the excitement drove out my feelings of despair, if only for a few moments. One adventure - a love affair - had, almost instantly, given way to another - a mystery - and only a few elements and characters linked the two, as if I had been thrust into the sequel before I’d finished watching part one. It was a decidedly odd sensation.

Lee was waiting for me, as arranged, outside the book shop. She looked even lovelier than when I’d first seen her, and with the wind sweeping her hair back from her face, her resemblance to Liana was more apparent; she had the same fine bone structure and perfect skin, that same sexy glint in her eye. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.

‘Hello, Michael; blowy, isn’t it!’

‘Just a bit; you must be freezing. Have you been waiting long?’

‘Just a couple of minutes. Come on, let’s get out of this hurricane; the café’s just along here.’

She grabbed me by the arm and led me to the café. It was a simple but pleasant sandwich bar, run by a boisterous Italian family. It was not yet lunch-time, so the place was relatively quiet. We found a table by the window, sat opposite each other and ordered two cappuccinos and a couple of sandwiches.

‘What now?’ said Lee, grinning wildly.

‘Are you making fun of me?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not at all; why do you say that?’

‘I wouldn’t blame you for thinking me crazy, dragging you along on a wild goose chase like this.’

‘I don’t think you’re crazy at all; I think this is fun... I mean, I know it’s a serious business and all that, but... well, I couldn’t help but feel quite excited this morning.’

I smiled. ‘I know what you mean; I felt exactly the same way.’

A young, dark-haired lad - about sixteen or seventeen at a guess - brought the cappuccinos. He had a certain swagger in his step, as if he was acting out some role or other, trying to be older, more mature and sophisticated than his years allowed. I thanked him deliberately; I wanted to come straight out and ask him if he knew a beautiful twenty-one-year-old woman called Liana Rogers, but it seemed an absurd thing to do. I took a deep breath, and as he left I looked across to Lee and shrugged my shoulders. Lee laughed.

‘This is crazy; I don’t know where to start.’

‘Well, how about trying this.’ Lee reached into her bag and brought out the photo of Liana that she had shown me previously.

‘Smart thinking; you missed your vocation.’

‘ “Lee Rogers: Private Dick!”... I’m not sure I like the sound of it really; what do you think?’

‘Let’s see how we get on with this case; if it’s a success, perhaps we could set up our own business.’

Lee grinned. ‘I can just see it now; we’d be inundated with phone calls from little old ladies wanting to find their missing Tibbles or Poopsies... ’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘Well, go on then. See what they have to say.’

The same lad who had served our coffee came over at that moment with our sandwiches. As he placed them on the table, I took the photo and held it up to him.

‘Err, look, sorry to bother you, but do you know this woman? I mean, have you seen her lately?’

The lad threw me a look, somewhere between bemusement and suspicion, then took the photo. He nodded his head.

‘Nice lookin’ chick,’ he said, his accent betraying his origins as closer to Romford than Rome. He obviously fancied himself as a bit of a lady-killer; he was wearing very tight blue jeans, a white shirt, undone to mid-chest, and a gold chain around his neck. His hair was slicked back, and some dark, scrappy stubble was erupting from various places on his chin. The overall effect was more amusing than seductive. ‘Wos the story then?’ he said, the words bracketed by sniffs at either end.

I suppressed my laughter while Lee did her best to explain.

‘She’s my sister. She hasn’t been in touch for a while, and we’re a bit worried about her, that’s all. I know she used to come here sometimes... I met her here myself. We just thought someone might know where she is.’

The kid shrugged and nodded a couple of times as if to say “fair enough” and then stared at the photo for another few moments.

‘Well, I’ve only been workinere a coupla munfs, so I wooden know. But angabout, I’ll arse Tony. Ere, Tony! Getchyarse overere.’

Tony, presumably the boy’s older brother, came out from behind the counter. He must have been in his early twenties, tall and slim with a strong, attractive Italianate appearance; I caught Lee looking him up and down in a transparently sexual manner, and to my amazement felt a pang of what could only be jealousy. I pushed it aside, promising myself to examine it later on.

What’s the problem?’ The photo was thrust into Tony’s hands.

‘These two are lookin for this chick. D’you know her?’ asked the younger brother.

Tony looked up and nodded. ‘Sure. It’s Liana, innit.’

Lee and I looked at each other. ‘When did you last see her?’ asked Lee.

Tony hesitated a moment. ‘She in trouble or something?’

‘Thas her sister,’ said the lad in mock exasperation.

‘We’d just like to get in touch; does she still come here?’

Tony shook his head. ‘Haven’t seen her here for, what, six months probably. She used to drop in all the time. I was wondering what had happened to her myself.’

‘So you’ve no idea where we can find her?’ asked Lee.

‘Nah, not really. Last thing I know she was living in a squat up in Wood Green with that dickhead boyfriend of hers.’

I felt something cold and steely grip my guts. ‘Boyfriend?’

‘Yea, you know, whasisname... ’ Tony stared into space for a moment, then looked over to the counter. ‘Hey, Ma, you remember that creep always hanging around with Liana?’ Mama’s expression told the whole story. ‘What was he called?’

‘Keith,’ spat Mama.

‘Oh yeah, that’s him. Keith.’

‘I never met him,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t you like him?’

Tony eyed me suspiciously, as if I should have known Keith, or at least known of him. ‘He had this way about him; I can’t say for sure. There was something very dodgy about him. For one thing, he was a real scrounger. He never had any money; whenever they came in here, it was always Liana who paid. And he had a real nasty temper. No, I just didn’t like him; she was much too good for someone like him.’

‘And they were living in a squat.’

‘Yeah. They used to hold parties there sometimes. She invited me to one not so long ago - eight, maybe nine months - but I couldn’t make it.’

My heart suddenly skipped a beat. This was it, the information we needed! ‘You have her address, then?’

Tony looked at me blankly. ‘Nah, afraid not. I mean, she probably gave it to me, but... well, it was a while ago now.’

Lee must have sensed the disappointment that all but swamped me, because she reached across the table and took hold of my hand, giving it a little squeeze.

‘Are you quite sure you don’t have the address?’ she asked, her manner calm. Again she seemed to be giving Tony a pretty strong signal. Tony, who had evidently caught on to this by now, turned his attention directly towards her.

‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go check my address book. Robert,’ he said to his younger brother, ‘get two more cappuccinos for... what did you say your name was?’

‘Lee; and this is Michael.’

‘Okay. Come on, don’t just stand there, get Lee and Michael some coffee. I’ll be right back.’

Tony disappeared up some stairs at the back of the café.

‘I think you have more in common with your sister than you’ve let on.’

‘Huh?’

‘I think he’d have carried you in his arms to Wood Green if you’d asked.’

Lee laughed. ‘Men like that are so transparent; you only have to pay a little more than cursory attention, breathe a little heavier than normal, and they think you’re half-way to orgasm just by looking at them.’

‘He is good-looking though.’

‘Yeah, and he knows it. Good-looking men make the most selfish lovers, Michael. All that pride, vanity and self-love; there’s not enough room in the bed for a woman as well.’

‘Well, let’s hope he was sufficiently interested in your sister to have made a note of her address.’

Tony reappeared looking less than ecstatic. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I can’t find an address. I looked in the diary, but all I found was “Liana, party, Queen’s Arms after ten.”’

‘Is that a pub?’

‘Yeah, up on Lordship Lane.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘Yeah, sorry about that. Listen, if you do catch up with her, tell her she’s welcome back here any time; I’d really like to see her again.’

I’ll bet you would, I thought, but said nothing. Besides, Tony was supremely indifferent to my existence, preferring to drool over Lee instead. Once again I noted the resentment I felt at what seemed like an intrusion; was it because Lee was so like Liana that I felt sexual jealousy when I was around her?

‘Thanks for your help, Tony,’ I said. ‘We’ll let you know if we hear anything.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he said, without actually acknowledging me. Then, to Lee: ‘Shall I give you a call if she turns up here again?’