Page 73 of The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club Mysteries #5)
‘Timothy Dalton?’ says Ron. ‘ Timothy Dalton? ’
‘Of course,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Isn’t he everyone’s favourite Bond?’
‘How are we even friends?’ Ron asks.
‘We both have a masculine energy,’ says Ibrahim. ‘We are like kings of the jungle. How is your rosehip tea?’
‘Delicious,’ says Ron, taking another sip from a china cup. ‘You’ve forgiven me for lying to everyone, then?’
‘Of course,’ says Ibrahim. ‘You used a worthless piece of paper to jail a violent man.’
‘Didn’t know it was worthless though,’ says Ron. ‘What if he’d killed me and ended up with three hundred and fifty mil?’
‘Then Connie would have killed him,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Though I’m glad it didn’t come to that. That would have been very difficult for me professionally.’
‘Would have been difficult for me too,’ says Ron. ‘Being shot dead.’
Ibrahim nods. ‘And Suzi is okay?’
‘Physically,’ says Ron. ‘Who knows apart from that? She’s made of tougher stuff than me. And she’s glad to have Kendrick back.’
‘I was proud of Connie,’ says Ibrahim. ‘I think Tia finally got through to her. Finally made her do something good. You weren’t ever worried that she was simply going to steal the money?’
‘Not for a second,’ says Ron. ‘I knew she wouldn’t.’
‘How could you possibly know that?’ asks Ibrahim.
‘Because she told me why she wanted to help me,’ says Ron. ‘And I believed her.’
‘And why did she want to help?’ Ibrahim asks.
‘She wanted you to be proud of her,’ says Ron. ‘She wanted to show the great Ibrahim that she wasn’t worthless.’
‘For me?’ Ibrahim asks.
‘Uh huh,’ says Ron. ‘She said we could call in Chris and his gun pals. She even agreed to grass to make you happy.’
‘It did make me happy,’ says Ibrahim. ‘What a nice thing for her to do.’
‘There’s something I think you don’t realize, old son,’ says Ron. ‘And it upsets me, as your mate, that you don’t realize it.’
‘There is very little that I don’t realize, Ron,’ says Ibrahim. ‘I have a very clear and precise vision of myself and my world.’
‘Oh, you’re a bright lad, I’ll give you that.’ Ron takes another sip. ‘But I don’t think you realize that you’re loved.’
Neither man looks at the other.
‘Well, I …’ Ibrahim takes another sip too. ‘Love is a word that can be used to cover a great deal of ground. It can mean many, many things.’
‘Connie loves you,’ says Ron. ‘I love you, God help me. Joyce and Elizabeth love you. Kendrick does. I know it’s not the love you might have had in the past, your business that, but it’s love. You’re a very special man, Ibsy, and I’m proud I know you. And you’re loved.’
‘I would, I suppose, agree in part,’ begins Ibrahim. ‘I sense, at least, that at times people are glad to have me around. I can fuss, I do know that – don’t interrupt me, Ron, I know I do –’
‘No one’s interrupting you,’ says Ron.
Ibrahim continues, ‘But I can ring on Joyce’s doorbell and she’ll be happy to see me.
Though I’m still fuming about Venezuela – it was a pure guess .
And I know that you and I can sit and chat, and I haven’t really had that for so many years.
Friendship, I would call it. A deep friendship allied to a deep care. ’
‘I’ve only said I love you to three men in my life,’ says Ron, ‘Jason, Billy Bonds after West Ham won the cup final in 1980 and I saw him down Broadway Market, and now you. When Kendrick turns eighteen, he’ll be number four.’
‘And I can be helpful, I suppose,’ says Ibrahim. ‘I was helpful with the code. The right order, Holly, and then Nick.’
‘Couldn’t have done it without you,’ says Ron. ‘You got that bang on.’
Ron raises his delicate china cup, and Ibrahim raises his in return. Both men concentrate on sipping, neither wanting to speak next. Eventually the silence is broken.
‘Do you need me to say it in return?’ Ibrahim asks. ‘That I love you?’
‘Not now,’ says Ron. ‘One day though. God knows how long we’ve got left, Ib, the four of us. Might as well let people know how we feel.’
Ibrahim nods. ‘What you did was very dangerous, Ron. Very foolhardy. But I think you had no choice. You had to protect your family.’
‘Had to show I still could,’ says Ron.
‘Had to show you still could,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And a few years ago I wouldn’t have understood. Not particularly. But if anyone were ever to threaten Joyce, or Elizabeth, or … you, I would move heaven and earth to protect you. I want you to know that.’
‘Sounds like you love us,’ says Ron.
‘I care about what happens to you,’ says Ibrahim.
‘Sounds like you care a lot ,’ says Ron.
‘I care a great deal,’ says Ibrahim. ‘But I choose not to put a label on it.’
‘Has Tia left?’ asks Ron. ‘I thought the police were still looking for her?’
‘Elizabeth took her out for lunch,’ says Ibrahim.
‘Poor Tia,’ says Ron. ‘From Connie’s clutches to Elizabeth’s.’
Ibrahim looks down. ‘Okay, Ron, there’s something I’d like to say.’
Ron sits forward.
Ibrahim takes a deep breath, looks at the ceiling and then looks at Ron.
‘The reason that Timothy Dalton is the best James Bond is his mixture of elegance and his training in the Shakespearean tradition.’
Ron throws a cushion at his best friend.