Chapter 52
‘What’s that noise?’ asks Amy, phone cradled between her ear and the pillow.
She’s speaking quietly, because she is on a camp bed in the hallway outside Vern Blackwood’s room. If anybody tries to get in, they’ll have to get through her. So far only Rosie has tried.
‘A hydroelectric generator,’ says Adam.
This case is not going to be solved in time for their anniversary tomorrow. So no surprise trip to Saudi for her. Just another long-distance phone call.
‘Are you selling one or buying one?’
‘Buying one, then immediately selling it,’ says Adam.
In some ways Amy realizes that she is relieved. Perhaps it would have been a ridiculous gesture to fly halfway around the world to see Adam? She’d even bought herself a dress. When was the last time she’d worn a dress? What if Adam saw she had made an effort and that effort hadn’t worked?
‘Will you sell it for a profit?’ says Amy.
‘That’s a good idea,’ says Adam. ‘I’ll suggest that to the gang.’
Amy sticks her tongue out down the phone.
What if she’d turned up and he’d looked disappointed? Or he was too busy? They don’t really make romantic gestures as a couple. That’s not their currency.
‘Baldy still on the run, then?’ Adam asks.
‘Connor Brooks he’s called,’ says Amy. ‘We’re trying to lure him in.’
‘That sounds safe,’ says Adam. ‘Are you armed?’
‘Good idea,’ says Amy. ‘I’ll suggest that to the gang.’
Adam blows a raspberry.
He definitely doesn’t know it’s their anniversary tomorrow. The whole thing would have been super-awkward. Best forgotten.
‘Have you spoken to your dad lately?’ Amy asks.
‘Dad? No,’ says Adam.
‘I think he’s having a hard time,’ says Amy. ‘He’s been thinking about your mum.’
‘He’ll be all right,’ says Adam.
One day Adam and his dad will talk about Debbie. But not today. Getting men to talk is like introducing two new cats to each other.
Their ‘copper’ anniversary had been hard to buy for, as she’d predicted.
In the end Amy has bought Adam six copper bullet casings from the First World War.
She’s picking them up in Basingstoke tomorrow morning.
A British soldier carved tiny animals on to each one in the trenches.
Adam will like them for the animals. She likes them for the bullet casings.
‘You know what tomorrow is?’ asks Amy. Might as well see.
‘Uh, the 20th,’ says Adam. ‘Sorry, had to think for a second because of the time difference.’
‘Yeah,’ says Amy.
So it would have been ridiculous, turning up unannounced with a box of copper bullet casings. And, now she thinks about it, how would she have got them through customs? How do the Saudi authorities deal with women in short dresses bringing bullets through airports?
‘That hydroelectric generator is very noisy,’ she says. ‘I wouldn’t buy it.’
‘What if I told you it was yours for just seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars?’
‘Seven hundred and forty thousand dollars,’ counters Amy.
‘Seven hundred and forty-five,’ says Adam.
‘Sold,’ says Amy. ‘I don’t suppose it’s copper?’
‘Copper?’ says Adam. ‘Probably got some copper wiring in it. Why?’
‘Nothing,’ says Amy. ‘I should get some sleep.’
‘Me too,’ says Adam.
‘Could we chat tomorrow too, do you think?’
‘I’m in and out of things all day,’ says Adam. ‘But I’ll try. Sweet dreams, Princess.’
‘Sweet dreams, my prince,’ says Amy.
If she’s not going to see him, she hopes at least she’ll speak to him.
Amy closes her eyes. She opens them immediately when she wonders why on earth she can hear a hydroelectric generator when Adam is supposed to be going to bed?
She looks at her watch. Midnight. Happy anniversary, Amy.