Autographs In The Rain Part 23

'Not at all, in fact. I let people talk to me; he makes them.'

As he spoke, he drove through the traffic lights at the foot of Waterloo Place, and pulled up outside the Balmoral.

'Thanks Neil,' she said, 'for the lift and the deep conversation.'

'My pleasure, Louise.'

'Lou, please. Call me Lou; all my real friends do.'

He stepped out of the car and went round to open her door, but she had let herself out and stood waiting for him on the pavement. 'This is where I let myself down,' he said, big and sheepish. 'Can I have your autograph?'

'Just a punter at heart, eh?' she laughed, as he found a pen and fumbled in his pockets for a piece of paper. 'I'll send you a photograph, signed to Neil, Spencer and Lauren. Will I post it to the office?'

'G.o.d no. Some b.u.g.g.e.r would open it. Send it to my home address.' He

102.

found a business card, scribbled on the back, and gave it to her.

Til tell you what,' she said. 'I'm off to London tomorrow, then I'm

back here next Friday for another meeting about the movie, and I'm staying

until we've done all our location shots. I'll deliver it myself, if you like.'

'Would you? That would be really nice of you; the kids would love it.'

He stood there watching her as she stepped into the hotel. 'See you

then,' she called, with a final wave.Bob rolled over on to his back, and sensed that Sarah, although he was lyiilg still, was awake also.

'What's up?' he whispered.

'Nothing at all. I was just lying here thinking about this evening, and about Louise. She's a very nice lady; not at all precious considering all she

is.'

'That's a Scots thing,' he told her.' Jocks and Jockesses who make it big internationally in entertainment or sports have to be very careful when they come home. If they're even suspected of putting on airs and graces, they don't half catch it in the neck. We like our heroes to be ordinary; sometimes we even like them to be fallen.

'Lou could never turn into a prima donna though. She was always too nice a girl for that.'

'She's beautiful now, so she must have been a stunner as a girl.'

He whistled, softly. She could see his smile in the pale light of the bedside alarm clock. 'Oh she was. I remember the first time I saw her, in a crowded corridor at the Fresher's Fair. I was flogging squash club members.h.i.+p; I knew just from looking at her that she'd never played in her life ... hardly anyone did then .. . but I pitched her just the same.'

'Was it tough to leave her?'

'You better believe it. I shouldn't have got involved in the first place; Myra and I had just got engaged, so I was spoken for, but she did my head in.'

'Just your head?'

'Aye, okay, that too.'

She frowned. 'Aren't you surprised she's never settled down herself?'

'Not really. Back then she was always looking for something, without knowing what it was. She still is, I think.'

'Maybe back then she was looking for you.'

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AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.She heard him chuckle. 'Nah. Her ambitions ran beyond me, even then, as she'd tell you herself.'

'Did you ever regret it?'

'Which? Getting involved, or chucking her? I should have regretted the first, but I never did. As for leaving her... to be honest it was touch and go which of them I split with, but I wouldn't have made Lou happy long-term.

I know that now, although I didn't at the time. No, I stayed with Myra because she had a hold on me; I loved her. Plus, she had me f.u.c.king hypnotised, just like everyone else.

'But it's worked out. We had Alex. Then, down the road, you came along and the kids. The icing on the cake of my charmed life.'

She rolled towards him. 'Oh, you're working well tonight,' she murmured.

The inescapable telephone rang quietly by the bedside.

'Whotheh.e.l.listhat!' Bob grumbled, but as always, he picked it up.

'Bob?' Andy Martin sounded tense. 'Sorry, but you'll want to hear this.

I've just had the manager of the Balmoral on the blower in a flap. There's been a fire in a guest's suite. It's Louise Bankier's; she's a friend of yours, isn't she?'

Skinner sat bolt upright. 'Is she all right?'

'Smoke inhalation,' Martin answered. 'She'll be all right but they've sent for an ambulance.'

'Okay. Tell them to take her to the Murrayfield Hospital, not the Royal.

Then call there and make sure they're ready to receive and treat her. If it's non-emergency, she'll be more comfortable there, and she'll have more privacy. I'm on my way there now.'

He paused. 'Hey, Andy. How come the manager called you?'

'Because he's s.h.i.+tting himself. He says it wasn't an accident.''I've no idea how it happened, Andy,' exclaimed Guy Bronte, the general manager of the Balmoral Hotel. 'I only know that as soon as the senior fire officer looked at it he said that it couldn't have been ignited by accident.'

'Tell me what happened, exactly.'

'It was just after 2 a.m. The fire alarm went off, and our board pinpointed the location as number two-ten, Miss Bankier's suite. I was sleeping here tonight, rather than at home, so I was wakened with everyone else. When we got to the room, one of my under-managers opened the door with an emergency pa.s.s key.

'Our sprinkler system had dealt with the outbreak by that time, but there was still a lot of smoke around. Miss Bankier was still lying in bed, soaked by the spray and coughing very badly. We have a doctor as a guest tonight.

He examined her and said that she was in no danger, but recommended hospitalisation as a precaution.

'The ambulance took her away ten minutes ago.'

'Did you evacuate the hotel?'