CHAPTER 33
“Where’s my little On?” Ritchie asked one of the girls at the Peacock.
“I don’t know. Maybe she work in 7-Eleven tonight.”
That was new. Ritchie didn’t know she had two jobs.
“Or maybe she work in Shell garage or maybe,” the girl giggled, “Maybe she broken heart. You want me tonight, Micky? For two day On she say Micky this, Micky that. She like perfume. We all like perfume.”
“Perhaps I’ll transfer my affections to you, sweetie. What’s your name?”
“Fon,” she said and disappeared to fetch him a Tiger beer.
Fon looked OK, Ritchie thought, as she walked away, but she wasn’t a patch on On. It was On’s flp flops covered with sequins, her flowery skirt and tiny cleavage he liked. And then he thought of Olga in her tight white shorts and cleavage that resembled a giant, speckled peach. He checked his watch. Would others from Medinski’s team turn up tonight? Or would it just be him and Olga?
Ritchie was on his second Tiger and was struggling to engage with Fon. It wasn’t Fon’s fault. She was trying hard to win him over but his mind was on what he was involved in. Did Mark have a plan to disengage from this charade? If so, when? How? Nevertheless, he couldn’t help smiling because he was actually enjoying the job. Fon saw him smile. “You like me now? Better than On?”
Ritchie smiled at her for the first time. “I’m going back to London tomorrow,” he said. “Can you do something for me? Give this to On. This is even better than Eau de Toilette by Ritchie,” he said pulling out a box of Chanel perfume from his jacket pocket.
“Oooh, very nice. This real?”
“Of course, it’s real.”
“Why not go see On and give her? Tonight, she work at Big C supermarket.”
Ritchie never got to reply because the white Toyota Camry pulled up on the roadside. The rear door swung open and Olga stepped out holding her bag. She said something to the driver and the car moved a short distance away. Ritchie stood up. “Olga, sweetie. You’re late.”
“Too many problems,” she said in her Russian way. “You have beer already?”
“Tiger. You want one?”
“Yah, but quick. I must go.”
Ritchie asked Fon to fetch another beer and edged Olga towards a table overlooking the road. “What’s the problem, Olga. Is it me? Do I give you a headache?”
“No.” She smoothed his thigh but didn’t smile. “It is another. I do not have long. We fly to KL tonight for solve problem but Maxim wants to speak. I call him now.”
Maxim? Maxim Novak? The big chief? Ritchie didn’t have time to think because Olga pulled her phone from her bag, pressed a few numbers and put it to her ear. “Da, da,” she said and immediately handed it to Ritchie.
“Mr Micky Parker?”
“Da,” Ritchie said trying to impress his new boss.
“You go to London now, huh?”
“Probably tomorrow, sir.”
“Da. I need to hear your voice. OK?”
That stumped Ritchie for a moment? “This is me, sir. My voice.”
“Da. Give Olga your phone numbers in London and your address.”
“My address sir?”
“Your address.”
“Home address or business address?”
There was a pause and a sound of a deep breath being taken. “An address to send an invoice.”
“Of course. I will give it to Olga.” The phone went dread.
“You speak weak,” Olga said. “With boss, must be strong.” And she lifted her arm and waved a red finger-nailed fist.
“He wants my address.”
“Yah. You write it here and name of company.” She slid a damp triangle of tissue paper towards him and then a cheap ball pen. “Write.”
Ritchie stalled. “I have many addresses.”
“You must decide. Be strong.”
Ritchie wrote down an address in Finchley, north London – a flat where he’d once attended a party. “And your company name.” Ritchie wrote Pollitop Ltd.
“That is good. Now I must go.” Olga stood up and drained the bottle of Tiger as if it was a teaspoonful. “It is not good to show affection in public in this country Micky but I will see you in London. We have a house in Wimbledon and one in Shepherds Bush. Yes?”
“Yes, I look forward to it. What’s the problem today? We don’t want problems at such an early stage of our relationship.”
“We will sort. Thai staff not come to work.”
“Is that all?”
“And some bad people visit our company in KL We will check.” After a slight wave she wandered away into the night and Ritchie returned to Fon.
“She not stay so long,” Fon said. “Not like you too much I think.”
“Such a pity. Now I must go to the Big C supermarket.”