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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

BOOK: Albatross
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‘I persuaded him to do so,' James White said. ‘He was upset, of course. But he's a good chap, you know. Very responsible, very loyal. In the end I convinced him that you couldn't do without him. Nor could you, not for a long time.' He said it as a flat statement that she couldn't contradict. ‘You'll need to get your team together. I've drawn up a list of people you might consider, with comments. There's an outsider from Bristol University. Young man, very bright. You could give him a try as a personal assistant if you like. I can recommend him.'

‘You seem to have done all my work for me,' she said. ‘You won't be offended if I pick my own PA? I'll see your man, of course.'

‘I hoped you would,' he said. ‘His name is Johnson. Rather an abrasive type, but with an original mind. I think you'll like him.'

‘I doubt it,' Davina said. ‘He sounds too much like me.' She saw the disarming smile appear.

‘You'll mellow, Davina. You'll learn to manipulate people instead of meeting them head on. It will give me a certain amount of amusement to watch it happen. Be patient with Humphrey; he'll sulk for a time but he'll never let you down. I'm going to be on my way quite soon. Anything you would like to know? Any help at all?'

She got up. It was an awkward moment for her, and she felt embarrassed. ‘Tell me,' she said suddenly. ‘Knowing how I felt about you, Chief, why did you recommend me for this job?'

He put his head on one side, regarding her with the twinkle and the empty smile. ‘Because you're by far the cleverest of all the candidates,' he said. ‘And I believe in that old cliché about the female being deadlier than the male. You will give Igor Borisov a run for his money. It will be very interesting to see who wins. Goodbye, my dear. I may be out to grass but I shall hope to keep in touch. Good luck.'

He held out his hand and she took it. They shook hands. It was suddenly formal, almost stagey. He went to the door, closed it behind him and Davina was alone in the office. She stood still for a moment. The room was very quiet, no sound of traffic reached the windows from the distant street. The watercolour of the Whites' house had gone; so had the hunting prints. She wondered what she could put on the walls to replace them. Then she went round and pulled out the chair and sat down at the big mahogany desk.

He looked very glum, Ronnie decided. When the boy was depressed he used the old-fashioned adjective, although these days he was happier than he had ever been. He didn't like to see Humphrey slumped in his chair, long body twisted up, long legs twined round each other. He had brought him a stiff drink and they settled down to their presupper ritual of talking over what had happened during the day. Ronnie's day was typical of the pattern that had developed during the summer. He had taken over the management of the flat down to the last domestic detail; he was careful with his friend's money, a promising cook who enjoyed experimenting, and meticulously tidy. Little touches – bright cushions, a cheerful potted plant – made the austere flat bloom with colour. Ronnie did everything for Humphrey; he reckoned that he owed him so much that nothing was too much trouble. There was no more talk of finding a job. He didn't mention it because it only alarmed and even irritated his friend.

They had spent a ten-day holiday in northern France, and Ronnie couldn't stop talking about the experience. He had no idea what Humphrey's job entailed, but he accepted the explanation about the civil service without having the least idea what it meant.

‘Had a bad day today?'

Humphrey shook his head. He didn't want to upset Ronnie. The boy was so sensitive and inclined to think he was the cause if Humphrey's mood was low. ‘Not too bad,' he said. ‘What about you?'

Ronnie wasn't to be diverted this time. ‘Same as usual. What's the matter, aren't you feeling well?'

Humphrey glanced at the anxious young face. He had never confided fully to anyone in his life. He couldn't and wouldn't do so now, but he went a little way, just to stop the boy worrying about him. ‘Well, I'll tell you,' he said. ‘I've got a new boss. It's rather a blow to me, because I thought I might have got the job. That's all. Nothing to bother about.' He smiled and went on, ‘I'll have another sherry. That'll cheer me up.'

Ronnie got up and hurried to get it for him. The worried expression was deeper when he came back. ‘Humphrey,' he said, and went red as he spoke, ‘it's not because of me, is it? You not getting the job, I mean?'

‘Good heavens.' Humphrey sat up quickly. ‘Don't be silly! Of course it's not – why should it be?'

Ronnie looked down and shuffled awkwardly. ‘Well, it might be,' he insisted. ‘Me living here. I don't want to cause you any trouble … you've been so good to me.'

He turned away and Humphrey saw to his horror that the boy was in tears. He sprang up from the chair. He had come back from his interview with Davina wearing his disappointment and depression like a flag at half mast. No wonder Ronnie was upset, thinking he was responsible. He put his arm round the boy's shoulders. ‘Listen to me,' he said. ‘I lost the job to a woman; that's what riled me. I don't like her and I've got to work under her, but I'll get used to it. It was just pride, that's all. Ronnie, I swear to you, your living here has nothing to do with anybody but us. We're friends, and it's nobody else's bloody business.… For God's sake, what would I do without you now?'

‘Somebody else would look after you,' Ronnie said simply.

‘Not like you do,' replied Humphrey gently. ‘You mean more to me than any job. Now go and get yourself a handkerchief and come and we'll have our drink together like we always do. Never mind.' He pulled his neatly folded handkerchief out of his breast pocket. ‘Here, take mine, I haven't used it.'

He turned away and picked up his drink. He couldn't bear to see the boy cry. It gave him a physical pain, like a jab in the stomach. He knew that Ronnie was right. He didn't have to know about Humphrey's real work to see the outside world for what it was. A cold, intolerant place, where neither of them was at home.

He said, ‘There's nothing on earth would make me give you up, so just remember that. And don't let's talk like this again. It upsets me too.' He's like a child, he thought, the tears all gone and that cheery grin taking over.

‘I'm ever so glad,' Ronnie said. ‘We'll have a cosy evening to make up for it.' He raised a glass with a little of the sour sherry he didn't like much, and Humphrey drank a silent toast.

‘You'll have to get another flat,' Tony Walden said. ‘I'll find one for you.' She turned to him in the bed and nestled into his shoulder. After they made love he liked to talk. He seemed revitalized, his extraordinary energy restored instead of diminished.

‘Stop organizing my life,' she murmured. ‘I'll find my own flat. Besides, what's wrong with this one? You haven't complained before.' She closed her eyes and drifted hazily; she was tired and deeply happy.

‘It's pokey,' Walden said. ‘Dull. I'm going to give you a nice apartment to celebrate your exalted status, my darling. And you're going to live in it with me. Don't go to sleep.'

She raised her head and smiled. ‘Why shouldn't I? It's two in the morning.'

‘A flat near Belgrave Square,' he went on. ‘Close to your office, and not too far from mine. I'll have it decorated for you. Wouldn't that be nice?'

‘No,' Davina murmured. ‘I like Marylebone.'

‘I don't,' he said. ‘It's too full of Colin Lomax.'

She came wide awake at once. ‘You're not serious? We've been coming here for months, before we went to Florida. You never said anything before.' She sat up and stared at him; the bedside light was still on. He refused to make love in the dark.

‘I didn't want to rock the boat,' he said. ‘I wanted to make sure of you first. I don't feel at home here; let's find somewhere else, somewhere that begins with us, instead of you and someone else.'

‘All right,' she said. ‘If that's how you feel, I'll move. You should have told me before. But I'm not taking a flat from you, darling. I'm not taking anything. We'll choose a place together, that's a promise.'

‘Why won't you let me spoil you?' He tilted her face towards him and kissed her. ‘I'm making so much money and you won't let me give you anything.'

‘Tony, darling,' she murmured. ‘I'm not a mink-and-diamonds type. Your idea of a nice little flat would make me feel thoroughly uncomfortable. I don't want the millionaire life style. I just want to be alone with you whenever we can manage it. If you're unhappy here, we'll go somewhere else.'

He stroked her hair; he told her how silky it was and how he loved the reddish colour. He paid her compliments about her face and body until she felt beautiful because he insisted that she was. He swept her along on his own tide of energy and enthusiasm and he told her over and over again how much he loved her. He discussed everything with her, from disagreements at home to major policy decisions in his flourishing agency. Everything Walden touched was galvanized into success. He had lost one account with an oil sheikhdom, but won another from their oldest rival. He turned disaster into triumph, and the only arguments she had with him were over presents she wouldn't accept, from a diamond ring to a Mercedes car.

‘Why aren't you like other women?' he demanded. ‘Why aren't you just a little bit greedy?'

‘I am,' Davina said. ‘As you won't let me go to sleep, here's something you can give me.…' She said to him later, when the daylight was breaking through the curtains, ‘I'm frightened of something, Tony.'

‘You're not frightened of anything,' he scoffed at her. ‘Except spiders – remember the fuss you made when I found that little one on the wall over there? I told you, spiders are lucky, but you made me get rid of it. What are you frightened of, my darling? Tell me, and I'll make it go away.'

She raised her arms above her head. The ceiling was smudged in the centre where a lamp had been removed. It was a shabby place, and he was right. She'd lain in that bed and seen the same mark with Colin Lomax. ‘I'm afraid of what this job may do to me,' she said suddenly. ‘I don't want to turn into a female version of James White. You won't let it happen to me, will you?'

‘I don't see how it could,' he said softly. ‘But even so, how can I stop it? You have one of the most important jobs in the country. You're the first woman to hold it. This isn't the time for scruples, Davina. You won't be a James White. You'll be Davina Graham.'

She didn't accept it; she moved restlessly and sighed. ‘If you see signs,' she said, ‘for God's sake, tell me, Tony. Whether I like it or not.'

‘I promise,' he said, ‘if you're serious.'

She looked at him and said, ‘I'm very serious. You mightn't like it if I changed. It won't be easy not to. I can see that, and it worries me. I don't want anyone to hate me as much as I hate James White.'

‘Still?' he asked her.

‘Always,' she answered. ‘Nothing will change that.'

‘I must get up,' Walden announced. ‘I have an appointment at eight fifteen.' She lay back while he pulled the curtains and the room flooded with daylight.

‘It's my birthday today,' he said. He stretched and flexed his arms. He had a fine muscled body, heavy chested. ‘Forty-six. Four years off fifty. Do you think I'm too old for you?'

She slipped out of bed and came to him. ‘Why didn't you tell me? Happy birthday, darling.'

He held her close. ‘I want to spend it with you,' he said. ‘But I can't. There's a family party arranged for tonight. I shall miss you.'

He kissed her; she saw the unhappiness in his eyes. It lurked there under the ebullience, the quick wit. Slavs, she thought, remembering another man whose moods could change so rapidly. That was what made me fall in love with him, that shifting sadness underneath the laughter.

‘Tomorrow?' she asked.

He nodded. ‘Tomorrow. That will be my real birthday.'

She stopped on her way to Anne's Yard. He was a difficult person to buy anything for; she wandered through Dunhills, rejecting the wallets and expensive nicknacks which he already owned in triplicate.

It was a salesman that solved the problem for her. ‘Birthday,' he said. ‘These are very popular.'

It was useless, she knew, but beautiful. It gleamed inside a heavy crystal globe.

‘They make very attractive paperweights,' he went on. ‘October 24th. That would be this one. I think it's one of the best.' Davina picked it up. The little gold figure glittered inside its crystal prison.

‘Scorpio. His Zodiac sign,' Davina said. ‘I think my friend would like that.' She could afford it on her new salary. She understood why he was always trying to give her things. There was a special pleasure in giving a present to the person you loved.

Turn the page to continue reading from the Davina Graham Thrillers

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