Dial M for Merde by Stephen Clarke Read Free Book Online Page A

to please, offering everything that a hungry visitor could possibly want to eat. And you can be pretty sure that most of it will come out of thefreezer. At this place, though, the handwritten menu told us what chef was making today, and that all of it was fresh.
    We ordered a bottle of Collioure rosé and clinked glasses, looking each other in the eye as you must.
    â€˜To our reunion,’ I said. ‘What do they say in French – retrouvailles ? Finding each other again.’
    â€˜We certainly found the right spot in the bath,’ M whispered. ‘And you found a great little restaurant,’ she added, looking around at the dark red and black décor. ‘Very intimate.’
    She was right. In the candlelight it was so intimate that you could only just see the person sitting opposite you. I did see, though, that we weren’t the only people there. Half of the restaurant’s ten or so tables were occupied, mostly by middle-aged couples. The only lone diner was a woman in a corner, apparently reading a book. She was sitting in deep shade against the dark background of the wall. It was so gloomy that she had to be reading with infra-red glasses.
    â€˜Exactly my kind of place,’ M said. ‘Clever of you to know.’
    â€˜It was a lucky guess,’ I said. ‘I hardly know anything about you.’ It had occurred to me that when we’d come down from Perpignan in the taxi, I’d done all the talking. She’d answered all my questions with questions of her own.
    â€˜You know me a lot more intimately than most men,’ she said.
    â€˜No, but seriously. I mean, I don’t know what films you like, what music. Who are your heroes, for example?’
    â€˜Heroes?’ She looked surprised by the question.
    â€˜Or heroines, of course.’
    â€˜No, I have a hero,’ she said. ‘Peter Willcox.’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜Exactly.’ She tutted. ‘Not your fault. No one’s heard of him. He’s an environmentalist. He’s spent most of his life trying to protect the oceans against nuclear testing and whaling. He never gives up, never lets the politicians get him down, even though he’s taken some very hard knocks. He’s a real hero. And half the people who’ve actually heard of him are trying to stop him.’ She paused and took a sip of wine.
    â€˜And he inspired you to go into marine ecology?’ I asked.
    â€˜Yes.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘But just for tonight, can’t we give work a miss?’ she said. ‘I want to relax, have a good time. OK?’
    â€˜Sure,’ I agreed. ‘Let’s get shallow. If you stay too long in the deep end, you only get tired and sink. And you’re never far from the serious end of the pool, are you? There’s always heavy stuff going on just beneath the surface.’
    â€˜You’re probably right.’ M looked down into her glass, staring almost sadly through the transparent wine. ‘It goes with the job.’
    â€˜But you devote time to shallow stuff, as well. Your suntan, for instance.’ I told her that I’d noticed her all-over colour. ‘I thought that as a scientist, you’d have been more concerned about skin cancer.’
    â€˜As a scientist, I know that it’s essential to tan very gradually and put on lots of sunblock. But yes, I travel a lot, and I like to spend siesta time stretched out in the sun. Where’s the harm in that?’
    â€˜No harm at all,’ I said. Seemed I’d hit a nerve yet again. ‘You look fantastic.’
    â€˜Thanks.’ She smiled, and stroked my hand as if to apologize for the way she’d reacted.
    I refilled our glasses and we drank to M’s beautiful body. As I let the cold wine wash over my taste buds, I couldn’thelp sneaking a glance towards the table where the lone woman was eating. Not very gallant when you’re sitting opposite your lover, but there