their share of the rent. Vance went to one of the girls and persuaded her to make life in the house intolerable by being abusive, slovenly and constantly broke.
'I'll make it well worth your while,' he said. 'I love Shelley. I've got to make her come and live with me.'
After a month of this campaign, which cost Vance six hundred bucks, Shelley moved into the Dover Heights flat. She kept her job which she loved on account of the flowers and, as she said, 'I like meeting such a lot of interesting people, like you, darling.'
'You never met anyone like me before,' Vance said.
Shelley agreed and they made love for the second time in an hour. Vance was enraptured by her slimness, her smoothness, her paleness, and, at first, her inexperience. He had never felt so manly. Business wasn't good and Ava appeared to understand that itoccupied increasing amounts of his time. Ava had her own interests, it seemed to Vance, mainly shopping, gossiping, smoking, drinking and recovering from hangovers. Vance gave up smoking because Shelley didn't like the smell. She didn't drink so he drank less. He began to watch his weight.
'Maybe you should jog,' Shelley suggested.
'I get enough exercise with you. Come here and let me smack your bottom.'
'Vance!'
'You like it. You know you do.'
'I do
not!
'
But she did. He was teaching her other things, too. She still went to mass, but not as often. It pleased her vaguely that Vance was a Catholic, however lapsed. She had been a virgin when she met Vance but she now had a good deal to confess. Too much, really. She was an only child of separated Catholic parents. Her family ties were minimal and she showed no interest in meeting Vance's chronically ailing mother. She watched television and read Mills & Boon novels. Her job, Vance and their games were enough for her. Then she got pregnant and everything changed.
7
B ushmill insisted that the cost of the golf go on his bill. Dunlop protested for form's sake but was secretly relieved. This expedition was going to cost enough as it was, and possibly cause awkward questions from the accounts people. He hung back discreetly, finding something to talk to the doorman about, and allowed Ava and Bushmill to precede him. They went in the direction of the Malibu wing.
'Silver bullets,' Dunlop said aloud.
'I
beg your pardon?' A woman standing nearby, dressed in the resort uniform for females of starched whites with blue piping, looked puzzled as Dunlop spoke.
He smiled at her. 'Nothing. Touch of the sun.'
She returned the smile. She was an attractive woman—slim, dark hair, deep tan—and in other circumstances Dunlop might have tried to build on the exchange. Proximity to Ava was making him feel something like randy. But not now. He bought a copy of
Time
at the stand in the lobby and settled down in a courtyard where he would see Ava as soon as she emerged from Bushmill's room. Hefound it hard to concentrate on the articles in the magazine. His head drooped.
'Can I be of any help to you, sir?'
It was the dark-haired woman again, bending over, smelling fresh and clean. Dunlop's pulse raced. He
was
randy.
'I don't know,' Dunlop said, putting the magazine aside. 'What's your job here?'
'Anything that comes along. D'you mind if I sit down?'
She sat on the bench next to Dunlop, removed her sunglasses and looked at him almost accusingly. 'In fact, I'm on the security staff of the resort.'
'Are you?'
'Yes. Ann Torrielli.'
'How do you do.'
'Would you mind telling me why you're sitting here watching that room.'
'I'm disappointed,' Dunlop said. 'I thought you might be interested in me.'
'I'm interested in what you're doing.'
Dunlop briefly debated the matter internally but he knew what he was going to do. Why should Ava have all the fun? 'Can you show me something to prove you're what you say you are, Ms Torrielli?'
She opened her bag and showed him a laminated card with her photograph on it. The card carried the resort logo, several signatures and