Eye for an Eye (13 page)

‘It’s a very
great pleasure to meet you, Robyn. My name is Colwyn Symons, and
I’m a businessman from Australia. My hobbies are fine wines,
beautiful women, and making a great deal of money.’

‘It’s nice to
find a man who knows how to lay down a good full-bodied red,’ she
said, trying her best to be sultry. It seemed to work, as his blue
eyes sparkled.

‘Can I take to
you dinner and indulge in two of my favourite activities?’ he
asked. ‘That is, if you’re free tonight?’

‘Well,’ she
wavered. ‘I suppose I could cancel my plans.’ She smiled inwardly.
Missing a re-run of C.S.I on TV wouldn’t be too great a
disappointment. ‘Yes, all right, why not.’

She reached
into her gym bag to extract a card. ‘Here’s my number. Just let me
know when and where to meet you.’

‘Can’t we meet
here and go together?’

Just in time
she remembered she was supposed to be an occupant in the
building.

‘Sorry, I have
a few errands to run before then, and I’m not sure how long I’ll
be. I’d prefer it if you called.’

‘Your wish is
my command, Robyn. I look forward to tonight with all the
anticipation of a new season’s Beaujolais.’

They parted
with a light touch of hands, and Robyn escaped into the changing
room. She leaned on the other side of the door and blew out a long
breath. The intensity of the exchange had surprised her, despite
her prior knowledge of Colwyn’s ability as a salesman.

‘No wonder Dad
was convinced,’ she murmured. ‘That guy could sell condoms in a
nunnery.’

Mike was
pleased with her progress, but advised caution when she told him of
the encounter, pointing out that her inexperience might make her
vulnerable.

‘How many times
has a man tried to sweep you off your feet, Robyn?’

‘Well, never.
But I’m not stupid, for God’s sake! I can see through his slimy
patter. “Tell me your name so I can call it out in my sleep?” Oh
please! That’s the oldest line in the book! He may be good, but he
has no idea what I know about him, does he? I’m hardly likely to
fall for a guy that I’ve already got pegged as an utter bastard, am
I? Give me a bit of credit.’

She was feeling
edgy tonight. Something about Mike was different, unsettling. She
was suddenly uncertain of him. Perhaps it was the way he looked.
His hair was slicked back, he was wearing glasses, and even his
eyes seemed to have changed colour.

‘What have you
been doing today, Mike? You look like a whole different
person.’

He smiled
suddenly, transforming his face to one she recognised.

‘Chasing up
some people our Colwyn has been talking to. I followed him into a
restaurant a few days ago, and now I’m tracking down his contacts.
I didn’t want them to recognise me so I changed my hair and used
tinted contact lenses.’

‘You make a
good chameleon, but it’s bloody unsettling. Just when I think I
know you, you turn into someone else!’

He shrugged.
‘It’s a useful skill. Anyway, it helps me deal with people like
Colwyn Symons.’

‘Not half as
memorably as I can deal to him,’ she grinned. ‘He’s got no chance,
no matter how seductive he thinks he is!’

‘I’m sure
you’re right, sorry I doubted you.’ He sighed. ‘Of course you can
handle it. It’s just that I’ve seen people taken in by charmers
like him before, and it didn’t always end happily ever after, you
know?’

She sensed that
he was reluctant to explain further.

‘I’ll be
careful, Mike, honestly . No quiet intimate restaurants or dim
booths.’ She clicked her fingers as inspiration struck. ‘I know,
I’ll get him to take me to the restaurant up the CN Tower. We’ll
sit in the window and you can watch us with your binoculars from
down here!’

‘It’s a
revolving restaurant, I’d have to run around the base every hour to
keep up with you!’ She was reassured by the amusement in his eyes.
‘Good idea for a place to go, though. Plenty of people about, and
very public. He’d have no chance of any shady moves there.’

‘So when he
calls, it’s dinner up the tower at what, 7pm? Nice and early so I
can be home to report back to you and relieve you of any risk of a
sleepless night. Good enough?’

‘Fine and
dandy. Er, good on yer, mate. Is that right?’

‘You beauty!
Now give me a hand to choose what I’m going to wear. Is that blue
sequinned thing going to be right, d’you think?’

‘Hm, let’s hold
that in reserve for now. The white jersey dress will do, it’s
appealing but still fairly innocent. What make-up have you got with
you?’

‘None - oh
except maybe an old lipstick in the bottom of a bag somewhere. I
never use the stuff.’

She grinned at
his surprise.

‘Well sheep
aren’t terribly impressed by that sort of thing you know, and there
weren’t many nightclubs within a day’s drive of the farm. I just
never got the hang of it all. My boyfriend Geoff was a
card-carrying greenie with homespun jerseys and leather sandals, he
never cared for cosmetics because they test so many of them on
animals. So the short answer to your question is still “none”.’

‘No problem,
we’ll use mine.’

He pulled out a
black attaché case and opened it to reveal an array of tubes,
powders, sticks and bits of hair that had Robyn gaping.

‘Tools of the
trade,’ he explained briefly as he moistened a sponge. ‘Now, let’s
do a bit of face-painting, shall we?’

He smoothed on
some foundation after using a green concealer stick to reduce the
worst effects of sunburn on her nose and chin. She complained that
her face felt gluggy.

He selected a
cream eye-shadow and created new depth to her green eyes. She
complained that she looked like a panda.

He deftly
shaped her brows with an eyebrow pencil, and lightly outlined her
eyes before applying mascara. She blinked with every stroke.
Finally he applied a little subtle blusher, and stood back to
assess his work. ‘Not bad, despite the fight you put up. How does
that look?’

She was silent
for a moment, staring at her reflection.

‘Wow. I never
knew I could look like that. I guess there is some point to all
that muck after all.’ She broke into a grin. ‘That looks awesome! I
could be on the cover of Vogue! Best I ever hoped for before was
the Farmers’ Gazette. Thanks, Mike - I’m really impressed.’

When Colwyn
called, Robyn arranged to meet him at the base of the tower for 7pm
as planned. She felt like a million dollars in her new dress and
make-up, hair beautifully groomed, ready to be seen in the best
places.

Waiting at the
base of the tower was perhaps a mistake though, as the area was
crowded with teenagers jostling in line for the amusement arcade
games and rides there. Her elegance stood out in sharp contrast to
their ripped denims and faded black shirts, and she found herself
the target of some unwanted attention.

‘What is this,
Life-styles of the Rich and Famous?’ a tall black youth called out,
providing his friends with the opportunity to applaud his wit with
jeers and catcalls.

‘Hey lady,
wanna take a ride with us?’

‘Whoo-ee, hubba
hubba!’

She attempted
to quell them with a glare, but they just laughed and made more
comments. As the noise level rose, Robyn put two fingers in her
mouth and blew a piercing whistle that momentarily silenced
them.

‘That’s enough,
you spotty little tossers! What a sorry collection of
shit-for-brains snot-nosed layabouts - just bugger off and play
with yourselves, you wankers, and get the hell out of my face!’

She saw Colwyn
step through the door and quickly changed her tone.

‘And if I catch
you being so naughty again, you’ll have your bottoms smacked, all
of you. Now go away!’

She moved
quickly to intercept Colwyn and steered him to the elevator to make
her escape.

‘Was there a
problem?’ he asked, as the doors slid closed.

‘Oh no, just a
bit of high spirits, really. Such young scamps! I say, you look
terribly debonair tonight - oh!’

The elevator
had just whisked them up several floors and they were now
travelling up the outside of the slender concrete tower.

The city was
spread before them, a glowing panorama in the warm evening
sunlight, changing perspective as the elevator took them skywards.
In seconds they were above the tallest skyscrapers and still
climbing. Below, tiny cars crawled along the expressways, while
miniature trains slid along tracks that gleamed like snail trails
past the base of the tower.

Robyn gazed out
of the window, entranced, until she realised that Colwyn was not
beside her. She turned to see him lounging against the inner wall
of the elevator, watching her.

‘I’m just
enjoying the view from here,’ he said. ‘You look beautiful this
evening.’

Robyn was glad
he’d been able to keep the note of surprise out of his voice.
Considering the only times they’d met before had been in the gym
when she’d been unadorned and sporty, she felt she’d scrubbed up
rather well for tonight’s occasion. She was interested to see that
he was wearing a dashing white Panama hat with his immaculate white
suit, and wondered what she would see when he entered the
restaurant and had to remove it.

She felt her
sinuses flinch at his cologne, which was sweet and rather strong in
such an enclosed space.

‘Thank you, Mr.
Symons. The city is rather lovely, isn’t it? Have you been here
long?’

‘First, please
call me Colwyn! We’re not so formal where I come from.’ He smiled
engagingly. ‘I’ve been here about five years, although I do a lot
of travelling on business so it always seems new and fresh to me
every time I come back.’

‘Really? And
where else have you travelled to besides Canada?’

She listened to
his accent with growing disbelief, noting that it was a mix of New
Zealand and Australian but tending towards North American. How very
odd, considering that the TV interview she’d seen had given his
background as pure middle-class New Zealand, growing up in
Wellington and with a career based solely in that city. It appeared
that Mr Symons was attempting to seem more cosmopolitan than he
was.

The elevator
door opened with a subdued ping, and Colwyn escorted her into the
sparkling interior of the most glamorous restaurant she had ever
seen. The head waiter took them to a table by the window where she
allowed herself to be seated, with a crisp linen napkin laid across
her lap. As Colwyn settled himself she couldn’t help looking down
to see if she could see Mike’s place amid the tree-lined
streets.

The head waiter
took Colwyn’s jacket, and hovered, waiting for the hat. Robyn
looked out of the corner of her eye and tried not to be caught
watching. Colwyn carefully took off the Panama and handed it over,
revealing an immaculate head of blond hair. Robyn tried not to
gasp. The little bugger had bought a wig! She hoped it had cost him
a fortune, and resolved to order the most expensive thing on the
menu to dent his finances even further.

‘You were about
to tell me about your travels, Colwyn,’ she said sweetly. ‘Have you
been to England at all?’

‘Not as often
as I would like. Which part are you from, Robyn?’

‘Oh, the
South-East generally, around the Reading and Newbury area. A lovely
part of the country, don’t you think?’ Let’s hear you make up
something about that, she thought, considering you probably don’t
know a thing about the place.

‘My visits have
been further north than that - Manchester and Birmingham mostly.
But I do want to visit the south one of these days. Do you have
family there?’

Here we go, she
thought. He’s sounding me out about this rich father Harry told him
about. Better give the man what he wants, eh?

‘Yes, Daddy
bought us a house right beside Newbury racecourse, so he can watch
his horses run. He’s frightfully keen you know. Mummy gets a bit
bored with it sometimes and goes up to London to do some shopping
instead. Daddy says that she hands over his prize money to Harrods
faster than he wins it!’

She couldn’t
believe that he was listening so eagerly to her tale that the
waiter had to cough to get their attention.

‘Excuse me Sir,
Madam, are you ready to order?’

Colwyn looked
at her enquiringly. She nodded, casting a quick eye down the
menu.

‘Garlic and
herb bread, fresh asparagus spears, the sole in white wine, and hm,
let’s see - you don’t have any lamb on the menu, do you? Oh well,
I’ll have the fillet steak then – rare, please.’

Colwyn
indicated his choices, and selected a wine from the impressive red
tasselled list that the maitre d’ had handed him, with much
overblown consultation about vintage, ageing, brix levels and
fermentation. Iced water was brought and settled amid the pristine
linen and gleaming silverware.

‘So, Robyn,
what brings you to Toronto?’ asked Colwyn, leaning forward and
gazing directly into her eyes.

Robyn sat back
in the tapestry-covered chair and prepared to play him like a
fish.

‘Oh, it was
Daddy’s idea, really. He thinks I should find out about some silly
old inheritance that I’m going to get in a few months time. An
elderly uncle, quite gaga in the end, thought his bequests should
wait until our twenty-fifth birthdays. My sister was frightfully
cheesed off ‘cause she’s got to wait years longer than me.’

She was quite
proud of this supportive detail, but realised that she had better
limit herself to things she could easily remember. This invention
of fiction was all rather new and she could very well slip up if
she wasn’t careful.

‘Surely you’re
younger than twenty four?’ he said smoothly. ‘With that perfect
skin you don’t look a day over eighteen.’

‘Well I do try
to look after myself,’ she said modestly. ‘That’s why I spend time
in the gym whenever I can.’