Love You Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

train to catch. So as long as there’s ice cream, popcorn and alcohol involved, the intermission version is fine by me!’
    He grinned. ‘Yeah, well, right, I’m here to try to forget for a while.’ He opened his arms and placed his hands either side of his thighs. Instantly, but subtly, she did the
same.
    ‘Forget?’
    ‘I went through a pretty bad divorce. Married forty-four years.’ He shrugged and his heavy eyelids lowered, like theatre curtains, then raised again.
    Once more she mirrored him. ‘Forty-four years – you don’t look old enough! Married in your teens, did you?’
    ‘Very flattering of you! I’m probably a bit older than you think. What do you reckon?’
    ‘Fifty-five?’
    ‘You’re being too kind. I like your accent. Love the British accent!’
    ‘Well, thenk yew,’ she said, exaggerating it even more. ‘OK, fifty-seven?’
    ‘Try seventy-seven.’
    ‘No way!’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘You look twenty years younger! You must take good care of yourself.’
    He held up the cigar then nodded at his Martini. ‘These things take good care of me. Only kidding! Yep, I work out daily. Play tennis regularly, and I like to ski in winter.’
    ‘I like to keep fit, too,’ she said. ‘I belong to a health club back home. And I ski whenever I can. Where do you like to go?’
    ‘Mostly Aspen, Jackson Hole, Wyoming and Park City in Utah.’
    ‘No kidding? Those are resorts I’ve always wanted to go to, particularly Aspen.’ She opened her handbag and pulled out her cigarettes, took one out and held it up, mirroring
him again.
    ‘You know the place I’d really like to go is Courchevel in France!’
    ‘It’s the best skiing in the world,’ she said.
    ‘You know it, do you?’
    ‘Really well.’
    ‘So maybe I should take you there?’
    ‘Tonight?’
    He raised his eyebrows. ‘If you want.’ He looked at his watch. ‘OK, so it’s eight thirty. France is – if I’m working it out right – nine hours ahead of
us, so five thirty in the morning. If I chartered a jet now we could be there in time for dinner tomorrow night.’
    ‘There’s just one problem,’ she said.
    ‘Which is?’
    ‘There’s no snow there right now. It’s August!’
    ‘Good point.’
    ‘How about a nice dinner here instead?’ she suggested.
    ‘That would mean cancelling my dinner plans,’ he said.
    ‘Which were?’
    ‘There was a famous gourmet in your country, back in the 1950s, way before you were born, a multi-millionaire Armenian called Nubar Gulbenkian. He once said, “The best number for
dinner is two – myself and a good waiter.”’
    ‘I’m not sure I would totally agree.’ She gave him a mischievous look. ‘So you were going to have dinner with yourself?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘I waited tables once,’ she said. ‘When I was a student.’
    ‘You did?’
    ‘Didn’t last very long. I poured someone’s very expensive wine into a water glass by mistake, and it still had water in it!’
    He laughed. ‘Hope they didn’t take it from your wages.’
    ‘Luckily not, but they fired me.’ She smiled. ‘So,’ she asked. ‘Your divorce – what happened?’
    Walt Klein looked sheepish. ‘Well, after my divorce I married my second wife, Karin, who was much younger than me. I thought we had a good relationship and that we’d be together
forever. My kids and my five grandkids adored her. Then one day, I guess about two years back, she suddenly said to me, in a restaurant, “You make me feel old.”’ He shrugged.
‘That was kind of it. She told me she wanted a divorce. I asked her if there was anyone else and she denied it.’
    ‘And was there?’
    ‘She was into art and had been bored for some while. I’d bought her an art gallery down in the West Village. I heard through a friend she was screwing a sculptor whose work she was
exhibiting.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Jodie said.
    ‘Shit happens.’
    ‘It does.’
    ‘So what’s your story?’
    ‘Do you want the trailer or the full three