‘I…I didn’t think it was that big a deal.’
Keane joined us from the garden.
‘You got a steak, Maria? Or a bag of frozen peas? This eye’s going to be black as the ace of spades tomorrow and I’ve got a committee meeting at nine.’
‘No steak, but you might find some frozen burgers,’ said Maria absently. ‘Ellie here knew our friend Tom was a journalist.’
‘You know him?’ Keane turned to me, his non-puffy eye narrowed.
‘He was at the munch,’ I said. ‘We met up a couple of times, but it didn’t…work out.’
‘So he’s known this about me for a while then?’ said Keane, forgetting his quest for iron-rich meats and sinking on to the edge of a couch. ‘He’s been trying to get to me this way for at least a week. He’s going to London, Maria. He could sell this to a London rag.’
‘Don’t be pathetic,’ snapped Maria. ‘What London paper would be interested in the private life of a two-bit local councillor?’
‘Who are you calling two-bit?’
Keane was enraged.
I edged towards the window, praying for the twin beam of taxi headlights.
‘You know I’m right. It’s a local story at best. And the Clarion will never publish any dirt on you, so stop worrying.’
Maria took some crystal tumblers from a cabinet and poured everybody a measure of whisky.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Keane, somewhat calmed. ‘I hope you’re right.’
‘I’m always right. Aren’t I, Martin?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Martin dutifully.
‘Was that really a cattle prod you used on me?’ said Keane, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Packed a hell of a charge.’
‘I’m afraid so. I only use it on my most recalcitrant slaves, as a rule, but in this case…’
‘Surely a violet wand would have done the trick,’ grumbled Keane.
‘Not really. They have to be plugged into the mains. You’re a big man, J, you can take it.’
At last, the taxi approached.
‘I’d better get dressed,’ I said, hurrying towards the stairs.
I was fighting my way into my jacket when Keane appeared in the doorway, towering over me, his beaten-up demeanour doing nothing to detract from his natural menace.
‘I thought you might stay and tend to me,’ he said. ‘I could do with some TLC just now.’
‘I can’t stay,’ I said, grabbing my handbag. ‘I can’t stand violence. Please stand aside.’
‘Does this mean you won’t meet me at the solicitor’s office tomorrow?’
‘I…just let me go. Please.’
‘That’s not a no, then?’
‘Please!’
Reluctantly, he let me pass. I hared down the stairs and out to the taxi, stopping only to offer Maria breathless thanks for dinner.