The Life and Loves of Gringo Greene (35 page)

   For a second he was stunned to silence. He wanted to yell something like
Thank God for that!
But was ever conscious of not revealing his inner feelings, especially to her, so he offered back a pretty weak: ‘Why, Glen?’

   ‘I get so lonely here. Sometimes Harry goes out before eight in the morning and often he doesn’t come back till half ten or eleven at night. The flat isn’t huge, and I don’t like going out on my own, there isn’t really anywhere to go, and I don’t have loads of money, and he’s a bit stingy with cash. All I do is sit and watch the TV all day, pretty amazing TV it has to be said, but it gets so boring by myself all the time. Elena works all hours at the hospital and it isn’t easy to make friends. Every man you meet thinks you are just an easy thing if you show them the remotest sign of friendship, I am just so fed up with it all.’

   ‘Fair enough, kiddo, come home.’

   ‘It isn’t as easy as that.’

   ‘Why not?’

   ‘Because there are other things to consider.’

   ‘Like what?’

   ‘Well, there’s the sisters for a start and…’ and she left the thread hanging in the air, as if expecting Gringo to fill in the missing pieces.

   ‘You mean you’d lose face in front of your sisters?’

   ‘Yeah, something like that, only more so.’

   ‘You mean if you came home early from your romantic holiday in the States without a rock on your finger it would let you in for untold ribbing that could go on for months.’

   ‘Yes, that too. How come you are so perceptive? Sometimes you seem to be able to read my mind.’

   ‘It isn’t that hard.’

   ‘It is to me.’

   ‘Anyway, I don’t see the problem at all,’ said Gringo. ‘Come and stay with me.’

   First, she giggled, and then there was a short silence, and then she said, as if suddenly thinking more of it: ‘Oh yeah, and what would the sleeping arrangements be?’

   ‘I’d get the front bedroom ready. You can have a room of your own.’

   ‘And you’d pick me up from the airport?’

   ‘Sure.’

   ‘And what would happen on the day I was really supposed to go home?’

   ‘Whatever you like. I could either take you and drop you in the city, or I could drive you all the way home, or I could order you a cab, or I could take you back to the airport and drop you there.’

   ‘It would have to be that.’

   ‘Whatever you think, Glen, it’s not a problem.’

   ‘And what would I do all day? You go to work just as Harry does. I’d be bored stiff.’

   ‘No you wouldn’t. You could watch TV, listen to some music, make my dinner; I could take some days off, or maybe you could write that book you’ve always talked about.’

   ‘Funny you should say that.’

   ‘Why?’

   ‘Because I have been writing a bit lately.’

   ‘There you are, then.’

   ‘Only in my mind, you understand, but it’s coming on well. It’s about a womanising New York banker who makes enemies for fun.’

   ‘Sounds familiar.’

   ‘And one day he’s brutally murdered.’

   ‘Like a whodunit?’

   ‘Yeah, a whodunit, but I didn’t do it, if that’s what you think.’

   Gringo laughed aloud and then said: ‘You can use my computer, I could get you one of those memory stick jobs, you could save it on that and take it home with you.’

   ‘Do you mean all this, Gringo?’

   ‘Of course I do. I told you once before, there will always be a bed for you in this house.’

   ‘And it would just be as friends, you do understand that, don’t you, Gringo? No hanky panky.’

   ‘If that’s what you want.’

   ‘It is. Look, I’ll have a think about this and ring you back tomorrow.’

   ‘Yeah okay, but try and ring a bit earlier, eh?’

   ‘I’ll try, and thanks, Gringo, I’ll have to go.’

   They said goodbye and Gringo was left staring at the silent phone. He put out the light and lay down, but sleep would be a long time coming. The other bedroom would need sprucing up and Gringo already had some ideas about that.

  
It would just be as friends, you understand that, don’t you?

  
He could still hear her sweet voice seeping into his ear. Of course, darling, but once he had her in the house, there would be nothing to stop him making a play for her; she could never stop him doing that, never stop him trying. No one could. He couldn’t stop himself.

The next morning as Rebecca strolled down the office toward him Gringo detected there was something different about her. She walked like a catwalk model and he hadn’t noticed that before. Perhaps she was growing up. The pink cords were back on parade and she looked as cute as hell. She paused nervously at his office and knocked on the open door and looked down at him.

   ‘Morning Mister Boss, mail for you.’

   ‘Thanks Becky, come in, close the door and sit down for a second.’

   ‘Er oh… and what have I done this time?’ she said, flashing her eyelashes and sitting in the chair.

   ‘Nothing that I know of,’ said Gringo. ‘No, the thing is, I think I may owe you an apology for bawling you out for ringing me in the middle of the night. I now know it wasn’t you. I’m sorry about that.’

   ‘I always knew it wasn’t me,’ she said, grinning, and then she added, ‘no worries, no harm done.’

   ‘Good,’ said Gringo, slowly bobbing his head. ‘So how is life treating you, Miss Walker?’

   ‘I’m good,’ she said, ‘actually I’m better than good. I have a new boyfriend and he’s a right honey. Colin’s his name. He works downstairs in that MBD’s or whatever they’re called, accountants I think they are.’

   ‘They are,’ confirmed Gringo, wondering who this new Colin bloke was, who for the time being seemed to have stymied his plans.

   ‘Actually come to think of it,’ she said, ‘he’s more than a little like you. I hadn’t thought of that before, only he’s quite a bit slimmer and ten years younger.’

   Great, thought Gringo.

   ‘He sounds nice.’

   ‘Oh he is, tell you the truth I’m beginning to think he might be
the
one, he’s hot you know, if you get my drift.’

   Gringo nodded again, not quite knowing what to say.

   ‘Are you signing up for the blood job, Gringo?’

   ‘What blood job?’

   ‘The brochures all came round the office the other day, weren’t you here? No, come to think of it, you may have been away. Princess Alexandra’s watchamacallit’s nursing, something like that. More than half of the staff have already signed up.’

   ‘No, Becky, there is no chance of me signing up for any blood donor programme. Gringo Greene and needles do not see eye-to-eye.’

   ‘I never put you down as a scaredy-cat.’

   ‘I’m not; I just don’t care for needles; that’s all.’

   ‘That’s what all the scaredy-cats say,’ she pouted. ‘Anyway, here’s your mail. Can I go now?’

   Gringo took the letters and nodded her toward to door.

The top letter was an official looking manila envelope. He instinctively knew it was from the tax office, and he was right. He ripped it open and scanned the letter. Just as he thought, his second appointment had finally been set. They’d reached their conclusions, and he’d been summoned to reappear at the same office at 2 o’clock the following Friday. He couldn’t wait to get there, and not because of any company VAT matters, because he didn’t give a fig about that. No, he wanted to see Ms Cairncross again, he wanted to… but his thinking on that subject was interrupted by Julian (your days are numbered) Smeaton coming in and sitting down and insisting on reviewing certain figures and results, and that took Gringo’s mind completely away from the incredible Ms Julie C.

The nursing team arrived to take the staff’s details at three o’clock. Gringo clocked the curvy one long before she tapped on his door. He smiled up at her and she smiled back through perfect tiny teeth.

   ‘Are you joining us too, mister er…’

   ‘Greene’s the name, Gringo Greene, but sorry, I think not,’ as he beckoned for her to take a seat.

   ‘Oh come along, you look a perfectly healthy specimen to me, and we are so desperate for blood, we’ll take even yours,’ she flirted, ‘and you’ll get a chocolate biscuit afterwards. We can’t say fairer than that.’

   ‘You don’t pay us then, for the blood that is?’

   ‘Good Lord no, people donate it out of the kindness of their heart, and perhaps because they believe that one day they just might need it back. We can all be involved in accidents, Mister Greene. It’s like putting money in the bank for a rainy day.’

   Gringo wondered how often she had issued that line. He watched her as she spoke in her singsong voice. She possessed a killer mixture of sweet voice, pretty face, smart uniform, and shapely body. Her auburn hair tumbled down over her shoulders and occasionally she would grab it as if it annoyed her, and toss it dismissively behind her back. The tight blue uniform suited her well, and the buckled belt secured by a large antique silver fastener, emphasised her waist perfectly. She crossed her legs and flashed a dash of black stockinged flesh, as Gringo began to wonder if she was using her charms to gain access to his vital fluids.

   ‘So what does this entail, exactly?’

   ‘Giving blood?’

   ‘That’s what we’re talking about.’

   ‘First of all I will ask you a few simple questions to ascertain if you’re a potentially suitable donor. That’s what we are doing here today.’

   Gringo smiled again and was happy to see her smiling back through her light blue eyes.

   ‘Okay, ask away, there’s no harm in questions.’

   She nodded and glanced down at her board.

   ‘Have you had any of these diseases? Hepatitis?’

   ‘Nope.’

   She ticked the form.

   ‘Aids?’

   ‘Certainly not.’

   ‘Cancer?’

   ‘No, and hopefully it stays that way.’

   ‘Severe asthma?’

   ‘No.’

   ‘Bleeding disorders?’

   ‘No-oo.’

   ‘Heart disease?’

   ‘Nope.’

   He was beginning to enjoy this mid afternoon interlude.

   ‘Jaundice?’

   ‘No.’

   ‘Are you taking any drugs, either prescription, over the counter, or banned.’

   ‘Do I look like a druggie?’

   ‘Please answer the question, Mister Greene.’

   ‘Certainly not, the odd paracetamol is about it.’

   She was still ticking her form, and he was still a runner.

   ‘Malaria?’

   ‘Nope. Wouldn’t it be easier to ask what diseases I have had?’

   ‘We have our systems, Mister Greene, and I cannot change them just for you.’

   Gringo looked exaggeratedly sheepish at her rebuke.

   ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound over officious.’

   He grinned; a half smile that suggested she continued.

   ‘Abnormal blood pressure?’

   ‘Nope.’

   Another tick, how many more questions could there be?

   ‘And you haven’t recently been subject to surgical procedures?’

   ‘Thankfully not.’

   ‘Well, I’m pleased to inform you, you have passed the first stage in your donor programme.’

   Up until then Gringo had been unaware he’d been on such a thing.

   ‘Can I make an appointment for you?’

   ‘You still haven’t told me what it entails.’

   ‘You mean you want to know all the ins and outs?’

   Gringo smiled at that, and at her, and she smiled back.

   ‘Yes, I do.’

   ‘As you wish,’ and she began parroting from some official documentation speak. ‘Before you donate blood the nurse will check your blood pressure, temperature, and pulse. You will lie down on a bed and he or she will tighten a wrapping, called a tourniquet, onto your upper arm to increase the pressure on the veins so they swell. This makes it easier to identify the larger veins and to insert the needle into the vein. The nurse will then clean the area where the needle is to be inserted with an antiseptic wash, then insert a large needle into the vein. You will feel a slight sting as the needle goes in, but the rest of the procedure should be quite painless. The blood flows through a tube into a sterile plastic bag that holds around one pint of blood, which we call a unit. People usually donate one unit at a time. The average man has ten to twelve pints of blood in his body so you can comfortably spare a pint. A small sample of your blood will also be set aside for testing for infectious diseases. No blood is used until all tests have shown it to be safe. So as you can see it can be good for you too, because you get an automatic check up to make sure that you are up to the mark. Can I sign you up now?’