The First Novels: Pay Off, the Fireman
As the cat and I got acquainted Sammy came back from the drinks cabinet, which stood next to a large picture window overlooking a verdant garden square where sparrows fought and squabbled and a thrush sang its heart out. That’s what the residents pay rates of £1.68 in the pound for, I guess.
            I didn’t think I could stand without an overhead winch so I was grateful when she walked over and handed the glass down to me. I was even more grateful when I discovered it wasn’t white wine or white rum or white anything. It was a malt, a good one, and it came with a splash of water which is just the way I like it and that meant she had a severe case of woman’s intuition, she’d made a lucky guess or she’d had a long chat with Tony and I wondered what he had told her and if he’d asked her to go ferreting for him. Or maybe she had just smelled the whisky I’d drunk for Dutch courage before I left my flat.
            Our fingers touched as I took the crystal tumbler and I got a slight shock of static electricity, a combination of the carpet, her dress and the thin film of sweat that I could feel all over my skin. The girl made me nervous, she was almost too beautiful, too well-groomed. It was difficult being in the same room as her, I was like a schoolboy on his first date and it was all I could do to stop biting my nails.
            She floated down into the settee next to me and pulled her knees up onto the cushions so that one brushed against the outside of my leg. I didn’t jump but my heart soared and I just melted as she looked at me and ran her finger up and down the stem of her glass. I came to as the cat began scratching its claws down my socks and I cleared my throat and started the semblance of a conversation.
            ‘Have you known Tony for long?’ I asked and wished I’d bitten my tongue instead.
            ‘About three years, on and off,’ she said. ‘I work for him every couple of months, usually Arabs, and usually they want something a little different.’ She raised her eyebrows, daring me to ask what was different, but I didn’t rise to the bait, all I could think of was the warmth of her leg against mine.
            ‘What is it you want me to do?’ she asked. ‘Tony said you had something special in mind but he wouldn’t tell me what.’
            ‘Tony was teasing you,’ I said. ‘I want you to do much the same as you do for him, only for a client of mine. Only he isn’t a client of mine. I’m not explaining this very well, am I?’ I was embarrassed, that’s why, discussing sex with this beautiful girl that I fancied something rotten as if I were talking about a secretarial job.
            ‘No, you’re not. Let me get you another.’ She uncurled and drifted up and off the settee, God knows how but I suppose the long suntanned legs had something to do with it. She returned with another whisky and I don’t remember drinking that one either. She made me laugh, she told me stories about Tony that I would dredge up next time I saw him so long as my memory held out; she told me about her parents, her time at Oxford, we touched on everything but her profession though after a while it became clear that it was more of a hobby than a job. I told her about David and Shona and before long I told her everything.
            I needed someone to talk to, and I knew that unless I gave her good reason she wouldn’t help me and she was perfect for the job. It wasn’t pillow talk, that would come later, this was just getting it all off my chest. Like a chat with an analyst, that’s the way I looked at it. I was pissed, and when I’m pissed I talk too much.
    *
    If you’ve got a couple of thousand pounds to invest there are a number of things you can do. In fact a host of friendly advisors will beat a path to your door with a view to tucking away your nest egg in one of their many and varied schemes.
            You can shove it into a building society or

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