him, tug at the filmy white dress studded with tiny sequins that I’m wearing especially for Gustav. Pierre obviously appreciates it too, in all its see-through flimsiness. I bite my lip, sensing that as well as showing my knickers I’m probably giving away classified information that I didn’t know was classified.
‘He’s getting rid of it. Crystal and I have finally persuaded him. It’s an albatross. But there’s been some kind of hold-up with the marketing, or the agents, that’s all.’
Pierre rests his hand on the curve of Polly’s haunch where it pushes up against his leg. Runs his fingers up under her skirt, just like he did at the Halloween party the very first time I met him and had no idea who he was.
Just then his mobile phone gives a series of insistent bleeps. Pierre glances at it, texts something, then gives me a long, slow wink. ‘Don’t tell the missus I’m getting mysterious calls.’
Above us, the twig-like silver hands on the huge white blank face of the clock show twenty to midnight.
‘Go on, you can tell me.’ I lean close again, trying to see a name or number on his phone. ‘A bit on the side?’
‘That would be telling!’ Pierre hesitates, then transforms his expression into a sly grin. ‘No. It’s work. There was a show tonight. I made sure the wardrobe was ready, complete with extra costumes and seamstresses, and I told them I was on important family business, but they insisted on keeping tabs on me and now they’re telling me what a great night I missed. So. Baker Street. What kind of price is he asking? I suppose there are plenty of perverts out there interested in buying that sort of debauched, twisted crap.’
‘Gustav is not proud of his past. He hates it. I hate it. God knows, my own story is pretty grim. But you can’t turn me against him. I don’t care about any of that. I love Gustav.’
‘I can tell.’ Pierre mirrors my actions, leaning towards me across the coffee table. ‘You’ve got it real bad.’
I grab his collar before I can stop myself, pull his face right up to mine. ‘We all know who caused this mess between you two. When Gustav ended it your cougar Margot needed easy meat to pay him back.’
‘Easy meat, eh? What do you know about any of this?’ Pierre flicks my hand off his shirt, his nails grazing my skin. He picks up a bowl of savouries, stirs them with the forefinger that has just been tickling Polly. ‘You’ve known him five minutes.’
‘That’s all it took.’
‘The old Levi charm. We both have it, you know. Just different shades.’ Pierre unnerves me yet again with his smile. ‘You’ll soon be in a dilemma, wondering which one of us to pick!’
The sour taste of uncertainty taints me. Gustav has thrust me into this scenario, but he’s also made me strong enough to withstand whatever history throws at us. And if Gustav has the urge to confess and make this right, then surely, somewhere behind that surly exterior, so does his baby brother?
I pick a nut out of the bowl, toss it neatly between my teeth. ‘There will be no dilemma. I’ll always be on his side. So grow up, and talk to him. Otherwise this will eat you up.’
Polly stretches, all white fur and blue eyes, like a Siamese cat.
‘Message received, Fräulein Rottweiler. He has you well trained, I can see.’ Pierre cocks his fingers in a duelling-pistol gesture and narrows his eyes as if taking aim. Then he sits back, pulls Polly roughly over his knee. ‘My big brother is a lucky man. Even if he is a cradle-snatcher.’
I realise another difference between Gustav and Pierre. While Gustav is like an Easter Island statue, shadows and sunlight alternating over his hewn features, sometimes changing his stance and aspect but always rooted, Pierre is a shape-shifter. A series of masks, different voices, different gestures.
‘You have a wonderful knack of putting your finger on it! Hmm, that sounded a bit naughty, didn’t it?’ he murmurs quietly so that I have to
Learning to Kill: Stories