Part 2 (1/2)
”No she's not.”
”She was in Zappavigna's The Bride and Three Bridegrooms The Bride and Three Bridegrooms. You remember? Her name is ...”
”Samira.”
”Heliodora Locke. Do you remember in the opening credits, it said 'And Introducing Heliodora-'”
”Her name, I repeat, is Samira. She's an S S-otherwise she wouldn't be here. She's a woman of the East-and not an actress.”
”I never expected to see her again, at least not in person, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw her in Dr. Vorta's office. And ... well, in bad shape.”
”Noel, I want you to focus very hard on what I'm saying. I've been speaking to you and you've not been listening.”
”I think we should probably help her ... I mean, she's obviously in some sort of trouble-”
”Not any more. Come over and meet her.”
”Meet who?”
”Samira.”
”Samira?” Here Noel paused to visualise the colour of her voice. And eyes! How would you describe that mix, that merger as rare as radium?
”Noel, stop the colour-wheel. I'm talking to you.”
”Sorry, I ... It's because of the actress, her eyes, her voice-”
”Noel, listen to me. She is not not an actress. Do you understand what I'm saying?” an actress. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
Noel took a deep breath, refocused, let his friend's words sink in. Why do I keep doing doing this? he asked himself. Getting carried away like this, putting the cart before the horse ... The strange thing is that the two are a match, their sound colours match. Perfectly. What are the odds on that? Mind you, I've made mistakes before. I've made one again. No wonder I've got no friends. Well, one. ”I know that, Nor, I was just ... pulling your leg. Of course she's not the famous actress. How could she be, here in Montreal? But she ... sort of looks like her. I mean, a bit.” this? he asked himself. Getting carried away like this, putting the cart before the horse ... The strange thing is that the two are a match, their sound colours match. Perfectly. What are the odds on that? Mind you, I've made mistakes before. I've made one again. No wonder I've got no friends. Well, one. ”I know that, Nor, I was just ... pulling your leg. Of course she's not the famous actress. How could she be, here in Montreal? But she ... sort of looks like her. I mean, a bit.”
”She does does look like her, now that I think of it. Like her homely sister. An honest mistake.” look like her, now that I think of it. Like her homely sister. An honest mistake.”
”Thanks, but I wouldn't say that she-”
”It's Tuesday, Noel. Shall we meet outside the theatre?”
”I thought you ... had a guest.”
Norval folded down the top of his computer. Noel could hear his footsteps as he walked into another room. ”I'll see if she's conscious. Let's see ... Samira? Sam? No, doesn't look like it.”
”But how did she ... end up at your place?”
”Because she's an S S.”
Noel closed his eyes. ”s.h.i.+t.”
”She had a power-outage. At a party. Someone drugged her a.s.s.”
”Oh G.o.d ... are you serious? When? With what?”
”She doesn't remember a thing. Special K, I think.”
”s.h.i.+t. So the cops referred her to Vorta?”
”No, I did. She had an appointment with Rheaume. But I recommended Vorta.”
Noel was thinking of Samira, about how terrible she looked. That would certainly explain it. Norval's commanding voice, like a judo-chop, cut the air before his eyes. He played back the tape in his head. ”You recommended recommended Vorta? I thought you couldn't stand him.” Vorta? I thought you couldn't stand him.”
”I can't, but I owe him a favour.”
Noel nodded. ”For all the free drugs?”
”No, because I cuckolded the poor sod.9 See you at four. Don't be late.” See you at four. Don't be late.”
[image]
Outside the theatre, Norval was crus.h.i.+ng an Arrow cigarette beneath his heel when he saw Noel approaching on a skidding, side-slipping bicycle. A woman's bicycle, and old, with a shredded wicker carrier. He watched Noel tether it to a No Parking sign, gave an economical nod of recognition, then ignored his friend's outstretched hand.
”Noel, are you aware of the season? One does not cycle in snow.”
”I'm ... well, trying to save money.”
”Ah yes, the scrimping Scot, who lives in posh Outremont, must pinch his pennies.”
”No, it's just that-”
”Let's go in. I have b.a.l.l.s of ice. Two below.”
Inside the theatre, where the once-plush seats were unupholstered and unsteady and the majority unoccupied, Norval nodded towards two aisle seats.
”Have you got any sleep in the past week, Noel?” he asked as they sat down. ”You look ready for burial. Like you have a disease that should be named after you.”
”It's just ... you know, a touch of insomnia and-”
”You have the dark circles and paleness one gets in the terminal stages of haemophilia.”
”No, I'm fine, really quite ... fine.”
”We're early,” said Norval, eyeing his pocket watch. ”I think I'll go back out for a smoke.”
”How is ... Samira?”
Norval tossed his spent match onto the floor and took a long haul. ”See for yourself, tomorrow night. She meets the criteria.”
”For what? Seduction?”
”For Vorta's amnesia study.”
”So the police did did send her ...” He stopped speaking because no one was listening; Norval was already halfway up the aisle. send her ...” He stopped speaking because no one was listening; Norval was already halfway up the aisle.