toil, I was happy to spend Saturday getting my hair cut, nails manicured and aching muscles massaged in preparation for a boys' night out with my friend Jared, Anthony Gatt's long-term partner. Jared's successful career as a fashion and runway model had all but ground to a halt since he'd recently turned the model-death-knell age of thirty five.. .see, it is a cursed age...and he was in a state of flux as he figured out just what it was he was going to do with the rest of his life. This was lucky for me because I was in the mood to play and he had all the time in the world. Our plan was to meet for drinks on Earl's deck, one of the best in town, follow that with a late curry dinner at the Taj Mahal, then maybe a few more drinks and some dancing at Divas.
Jared was already there when I was shown to our table next to the firepit on the ivy-covered deck that hangs off one side of the Earl's building on 2nd Avenue. It was a busy night with the young, beautiful staff showing off toned and tanned legs and arms while serving up pitchers of mixed drinks and frothy mugs of beer to rowdy patrons wearing their trendy best. Jared was in a gauzy, peach, striped shirt with light-coloured slacks, a combination that looked ridiculously good against his suntanned-bronze skin and head full of relaxed copper curls.
"You look fantastic," he enthused with his heart-shaped smile as I took my seat.
Jared was generous with compliments that never seemed insincere. I regarded my tan, short-sleeved sweater and matching pants, thought it might look okay, and hoped the outrageously expensive belt from gatt helped to hold in what I, in this den of youthful physical perfection, couldn't help but feel was an ever-expanding paunch. We ordered dirty martinis and made juvenile comments more suitable to horny high-school boys about our cute waiter until he returned with our drinks.
"Have you heard anything?" Jared asked for about the zillionth time since Sereena had pulled her vanishing act.
He knew I'd know exactly what he was talking about, but I sometimes like to play coy. "About what?"
His expression remained admirably unchanged while he sipped his cocktail and said nothing.
"Why do you ask?"
"You look a little gloomy."
I frowned at him. "I thought you just said I looked fantastic."
"Gloomily fantastic."
18 of 163
3/15/2011 10:56 PM
D: BOOKS/Anthony Bidulka - Russell Quant Mystery/Anthony B...
"You've been talking to Anthony."
"We are spouses. We do that sometimes."
"She's disappeared, Jared," I said to him, sounding matter-of-fact to cover the real jolt of pain I felt each time I thought about it. "She's just gone." I guzzled my drink and wondered how soon I could order another.
"You know, even though I've known Sereena since she moved in next door to you," Jared said, leaning into me across the table, "I've wondered these last months since she's been gone whether maybe I never really knew her very well at all. Where was she born? Does she have family? How did she get that scar on her chin?"
He flipped an olive into his mouth and after a quick chew continued on. "I know some of the stories-or are they rumours?- about how she dated this king or that prime minister, how she once had a house in Belize and an apartment in Venice, gambled away fortunes, and we all know her story about Mick Jagger and the pineapple-you know some other stories. Anthony does too, but put them all together and we still have...nothing. Her life before Saskatoon is this colourful movie that has kept us entertained for years, but now that she's gone I've been getting this feeling-you know the one-where you've left the theatre and suddenly can't remember the plot of the movie you've just seen? How can that be? Wasn't I paying attention?"
I took a deep whiff of summer air, lightly singed with the cloying aroma of annual forest fires burning hundreds of kilometres north of the city. I knew what he meant. I'd felt it too. It was surprise and confusion mixed with a
Jared was already there when I was shown to our table next to the firepit on the ivy-covered deck that hangs off one side of the Earl's building on 2nd Avenue. It was a busy night with the young, beautiful staff showing off toned and tanned legs and arms while serving up pitchers of mixed drinks and frothy mugs of beer to rowdy patrons wearing their trendy best. Jared was in a gauzy, peach, striped shirt with light-coloured slacks, a combination that looked ridiculously good against his suntanned-bronze skin and head full of relaxed copper curls.
"You look fantastic," he enthused with his heart-shaped smile as I took my seat.
Jared was generous with compliments that never seemed insincere. I regarded my tan, short-sleeved sweater and matching pants, thought it might look okay, and hoped the outrageously expensive belt from gatt helped to hold in what I, in this den of youthful physical perfection, couldn't help but feel was an ever-expanding paunch. We ordered dirty martinis and made juvenile comments more suitable to horny high-school boys about our cute waiter until he returned with our drinks.
"Have you heard anything?" Jared asked for about the zillionth time since Sereena had pulled her vanishing act.
He knew I'd know exactly what he was talking about, but I sometimes like to play coy. "About what?"
His expression remained admirably unchanged while he sipped his cocktail and said nothing.
"Why do you ask?"
"You look a little gloomy."
I frowned at him. "I thought you just said I looked fantastic."
"Gloomily fantastic."
18 of 163
3/15/2011 10:56 PM
D: BOOKS/Anthony Bidulka - Russell Quant Mystery/Anthony B...
"You've been talking to Anthony."
"We are spouses. We do that sometimes."
"She's disappeared, Jared," I said to him, sounding matter-of-fact to cover the real jolt of pain I felt each time I thought about it. "She's just gone." I guzzled my drink and wondered how soon I could order another.
"You know, even though I've known Sereena since she moved in next door to you," Jared said, leaning into me across the table, "I've wondered these last months since she's been gone whether maybe I never really knew her very well at all. Where was she born? Does she have family? How did she get that scar on her chin?"
He flipped an olive into his mouth and after a quick chew continued on. "I know some of the stories-or are they rumours?- about how she dated this king or that prime minister, how she once had a house in Belize and an apartment in Venice, gambled away fortunes, and we all know her story about Mick Jagger and the pineapple-you know some other stories. Anthony does too, but put them all together and we still have...nothing. Her life before Saskatoon is this colourful movie that has kept us entertained for years, but now that she's gone I've been getting this feeling-you know the one-where you've left the theatre and suddenly can't remember the plot of the movie you've just seen? How can that be? Wasn't I paying attention?"
I took a deep whiff of summer air, lightly singed with the cloying aroma of annual forest fires burning hundreds of kilometres north of the city. I knew what he meant. I'd felt it too. It was surprise and confusion mixed with a
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