The Mountain Shadow

I glanced at him quickly. I was ready to like him. I already did like him. But he was still a stranger, and I wasn’t sure that I could trust him. How did he know that I’d received a professional beating?

Reading my expression, he smiled.

‘All the hits, on both sides of your face, are bunched up in a tight pattern, left and right,’ he said quietly. ‘Your eyes are blacked, but they’re still open, and you can see okay. That’s not easy to do. Your wrists are marked, too. It’s not hard to figure that somebody who knew what he was doing smacked you around pretty good.’

‘I’m guessing there’s a point in there, somewhere.’

‘The point is, I’m hurt.’

‘You’re hurt?’

‘You didn’t invite me.’

‘I wasn’t the one sending out cards.’

‘Likely to be any more parties?’ he smiled.

‘I don’t know. You feeling lonely?’

‘Count me in, if you need a date, next time.’

‘I’m good,’ I said. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

‘Please!’ Didier insisted as a glowering waiter slammed the drinks down on the table. ‘Stop whispering, you two. If it’s not an illicit lover or jealous husband to boast about, you’ll have to offer another sin to discuss.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Kavita encouraged.

‘Do you know why sin is banned?’ Didier asked her, his blue eyes glittering.

‘Because it’s fun?’ Kavita offered.

‘Because it makes fun of people who ban sin,’ Didier said, raising his glass.

‘I’ll make the toast!’ Kavita announced, raising her glass to Didier’s. ‘To tying people up and giving them a good smack!’

‘Excellent!’ Didier cried.

‘I’m in,’ Naveen said, raising his glass.

‘No,’ I said.

It wasn’t the day to toast people being tied up; not for me.

‘Okay, Lin,’ Kavita snapped. ‘Why don’t you make the toast?’

‘To freedom, in all its forms,’ I said.

‘I’m in again,’ Naveen said.

‘Didier is always for freedom,’ Didier agreed, raising his glass.

‘Alright,’ Kavita said, banging her glass against ours. ‘To freedom, in all her forms.’

We’d just put our glasses back on the table when Concannon and Stuart Vinson joined us.

‘Hey, man,’ Vinson said, offering a handshake like a good-natured smile. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

‘Someone kicked his fuckin’ arse,’ Concannon laughed, his Northern Irish drawl prowling. ‘And it looks like they threw in his head, n’all. What ya been up to, boyo?’

‘He has shower issues,’ Kavita said.

‘Shower issues, does he, indeed?’ Concannon grinned, leaning close to Kavita. ‘And what issues do you have?’

‘You first,’ Kavita replied.

He grinned again, as if he’d won.

‘Me? I take issue with everything that isn’t already mine. And since I’ve let that cat out of the bag, I repeat, what issues do you have?’

‘I have loveliness issues. But I’m in treatment.’

‘Aversion therapy is said to be very effective,’ Naveen said, staring at Concannon.

Concannon looked from one to the other, laughed hard, seized two chairs from a neighbouring table without asking, dragged them to our table and pushed Vinson down into one of them.

He turned his own chair around backwards, and rested his solid forearms on the back of it.

‘What are we drinkin’?’ he asked.

I realised that Didier hadn’t called for drinks, his habit whenever anyone joined him in Leopold’s. I turned my head and saw him staring at Concannon. The last time I’d seen Didier look at someone that hard, he’d had a gun in his hand. Thirty seconds later he’d used it.

I raised my hand to call the waiter. When the drinks were ordered I moved the subject across Didier’s eye line.

‘You look good, Vinson.’

‘I’m damn happy,’ the young American replied. ‘We just made a killing. Fell right into my lap. Well, into our laps, Concannon’s and mine. So, hey, the drinks are on us.’

The drinks arrived. Vinson paid and we raised our glasses.

‘To sweet deals!’ Vinson said.

‘And to the suckers who sweeten them,’ Concannon added quickly.

Our glasses clashed, but Concannon had soured the toast.

‘Ten thousand American dollars each!’ Concannon said, slamming his glass down hard on the table. ‘No better feelin’! Just like comin’ in a rich girl’s mouth!’

‘Hey, Concannon!’ I said.

‘There’s no call for talk like that,’ Vinson added.

‘What?’ Concannon asked, his arms wide with wonder. ‘What?’

He turned his head and leaned the side of his chair toward Kavita.

‘Come on, darlin’,’ he said, his smile as wide as if he was asking her to dance, ‘you can’t be tellin’ me you’re a stranger to the experience. Not with a face and a figure like yours.’

‘Why don’t you talk to me about it?’ Naveen Adair muttered through clenched teeth.

‘Unless you’re a fuckin’ lesbian!’ Concannon continued, laughing so hard that his chair tilted sideways and almost fell.

Naveen began to stand. Kavita put a hand against his chest, holding him back.

‘For Chrissakes, Concannon!’ Vinson spluttered, surprised and confused. ‘Like, what the hell’s the matter with you? You brought me a solid-gold customer, we made a bundle of cash, and we’re supposed to be, like, happy and celebrating. Stop antagonising everybody already!’