The Ladykiller (80 page)

She had bought herself a new trouser suit. It was deep red and showed off her dark hair perfectly. She slipped it on with a white camisole top underneath, then stepped back from the mirror and admired herself.

Not bad.

She pulled up in the car park of Cartella at eight twenty and there, waiting for her in Patrick’s Rolls Royce, was Willy. As she locked her car he walked over to her.

‘You look lovely, Kate.’

She grinned at him, the overpowering smell of his aftershave making her cough. He looked almost presentable in his dinner jacket and she felt an enormous surge of affection for him. As they walked into the restaurant she took his arm. He patted her hand and smiled at her.

Patrick smiled at the girl opposite him. She really was very lovely. Since he had phoned Kate’s house that night and a man answered, he had gone all out to have a good time.

He had met Michelle three days before. She was stunning, and he had watched every pair of male eyes assess her as they walked to their table. She was five foot ten, slim, and like her predecessors had enormous breasts. In the white sheath dress she was wearing, though ostensibly covered up, her breasts were actually in full view of everyone because of the way the dress moulded her tanned and healthy body. She had long blond hair and violet eyes.

For the first time in months Patrick felt he might actually get to like a girl. Michelle was a career woman. She was personal secretary to the managing director of an export firm and Patrick had met her by accident in the man’s office. Unlike her predecessors, she had a brain in her head and her talk stimulated him.

She chose her own food and Patrick was gratified at her appetite. He hated women who picked at their dinner, worried that every mouthful would be an extra pound in weight. Especially when the meal cost a small fortune.

But Michelle was the kind of woman who lived life to the full.

‘I’ve never been here before. Do you use this restaurant a lot? The maître d’ seemed to know you.’

Patrick had the grace to blush.

The maître d’ also knew how many women he had brought here. At one time they had run a book in the kitchen on how long a particular girl would last. Michelle deserved better than that. It was the reason he had never brought Kate here.

‘It’s local, you know. I don’t always fancy driving into the Smoke.’

She chatted on and Patrick watched her, fascinated. She really was a lovely girl.

As Willy and Kate walked into the restaurant, arm in arm, the maître d’ walked towards them with a happy smile on his face. It was Friday night, the place was packed, and he could hear the cash tills ringing. Pierre, real name Albert Diggins, had a part ownership of the Cartella, and now it was really paying its way, he was a happy man. He walked towards Kate and Willy, wondering briefly what such an attractive woman was doing with such an ugly man.

‘Name, monsieur?’

‘It’s Gabney. Mr William Gabney. I reserved a table for two.’

‘Ah, the special table. I remember the booking, I took it myself.’

He smiled widely enough to encompass them both and any strangers in the vicinity. Gabney’s was the champagne table that was costing the man a hundred pounds already.

‘Please, follow me.’

He swept out his arm. Kate, stifling a smile, followed with Willy. She was still holding his arm when Patrick Kelly looked up from his steak and saw them. He nearly choked.

Kate looked into his face and saw her own shock mirrored there. She watched the blonde goddess sitting opposite him get up out of her seat and playfully pat him on the back while he coughed. The action caused the girl’s breasts to shimmy in such a way they caught the eye not only of Willy and every other male diner in the place but also of Pierre, who walked into a chair, doing himself a painful injury.

Kate didn’t know how she kept her head. Clutching her arm tighter, Willy followed a practically cross-legged Pierre to their table.

It was only about six feet from Patrick’s and the champagne was already there on ice.

Pierre made a big deal out of opening it, hoping to entice some of the other diners into ordering the same thing. It was Cristal and Kate sipped the bubbling liquid nervously. She was sitting opposite Patrick and they glanced at one another surreptitiously.

Michelle knew something was up and looked behind her.

‘Do you know that woman or something?’

Patrick coloured. ‘I know her slightly.’

Michelle laughed. ‘I think you know her a bit better than slightly, don’t you?’

He nodded.

Willy sipped his champagne and watched Kate’s face. He was sorry now he’d brought her here. Kate looked at him and shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, Willy, I have to go.’

She stood up and walked out of the restaurant. In the foyer she went straight into the ladies’ room. She leant against the sink, her face burning with humiliation. She looked at herself in the mirror.

She looked good, she knew that, but no one could compete with the girl Patrick was sitting opposite. Poor Willy. She had walked out on him in front of everyone.

Why on earth had she decided to come?

She splashed some cold water on to her face to try and calm herself down. She put on a film of red lipstick and walked from the ladies’ room.

Patrick was waiting for her.

She looked straight into his eyes.

‘Hello, Kate.’

‘Patrick.’

She felt as if a hot mist was gradually filling her head. His closeness was making her feel physically ill. She had to use all her willpower not to reach out and touch his hair, the lines of his face.

She looked down at the floor, unable to face him.

‘How are you?’

‘Fine. And you?’ Kate marvelled at how normal her voice sounded.

‘All the better for seeing you.’

Her eyes dragged themselves to his face of their own volition.

‘I’ve missed you, Kate.’

Patrick was doing what he’d sworn he would never do. If she walked away now, he would feel humbled and humiliated for the rest of his life.

Kate looked into his face.

‘Really?’

‘Really. I love you, Kate.’

‘What about Titsalina in there then?’ She gestured with her head towards the dining hall. ‘Do you love her as well?’

Patrick felt a moment’s euphoria.

She was jealous.

Kate saw his smile and regretted the words immediately.

‘No, actually, Kate, I don’t. It’s you I want. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even bonk since we split up, if you must know.’

Kate laughed. Patrick could be so comical. Here he was begging her to have him once more, and it had been her fault they had split up in the first place!

‘So what are we going to do?’

‘We’re going to walk out of this restaurant and go home. Home to my house, Kate.’

‘But what about Willy and that . . . girl.’

‘I’ll sort Willy out. As for Michelle, she told me to come out here. A clever girl that, she’ll go far.’

Kate looked into the blue depths of Patrick’s eyes and admitted the truth to herself. She needed this man. When he was there she felt alive, really alive, and she wanted that feeling for the rest of her life.

‘I’ve missed you, Patrick.’

As they stood there Willy came out to them.

‘I’ll drop Michelle off home in the Roller.’

‘Thanks, Willy.’ Patrick and the big man shook hands, each grasping the other’s wrists.

Willy went red. ‘I knew that if you two just saw each other you’d be all right.’

Kate smiled at him and he went back into the restaurant.

‘Right then, shall we go home?’

Kate took the proffered arm.

‘Yes, let’s go home, Pat.’

In the car park they stopped by Kelly’s BMW. He took her in his arms and kissed her.

Willy watched them through the window of the restaurant. They fitted together perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw. He held up his glass in a silent toast: To Pat and Kate.