The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie

The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie

Author:Hugh Laurie
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Murder, Illegal arms transfers, Fiction - Espionage, Political, Fiction, Spy stories, Secret service, Thriller, Thrillers, General, Intrigue, Espionage
ISBN: 9780671020828
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 1998-08-15T05:00:00+00:00


Fourteen

Thus freedom now so seldom wakes, The only throb she gives,

Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she lives.

THOMAS MOORE

There were two things parked in my street that I hadn’t expected to see when I turned into it. One was my Kawasaki, bruised and bloodied, but otherwise in reasonable shape. The other was a bright red TVR.

Ronnie was asleep at the wheel, with a coat pulled up to her nose. I opened the passenger door and slid in beside her. Her head came up and she squinted at me.

‘Evening,’ I said.

‘Hello.’ She blinked a few times and looked out at the street. ‘God, what time is it? I’m freezing.’

‘Quarter to one. Do you want to come in?’ She thought about it.

‘That’s very forward of you, Thomas.’

‘Forward of me?’ I said. ‘Well, that depends, doesn’t it?’ I opened the door again.

‘On what?’

‘On whether you drove over here, or I rebuilt my street around your car.’

She thought a bit more. ‘I’d kill for a cup of tea.’

We sat in the kitchen, not saying much, just sipping tea and smoking. Ronnie’s mind was on other things, and at an amateurish guess I’d say that she’d been crying. Either that or she’d attempted a fancy rag-rolling effect with her mascara. I offered her some Scotch but she wasn’t interested, so I helped myself to the last four drops in the bottle and tried to make them last. I was trying to concentrate on her, to put Lucas and Barnes and Murdah out of my mind, because she was upset and she was in the room. The others weren’t.

‘Thomas, can I ask you something?’

‘Course.’

‘Are you gay?’

I mean, really. First ball of the over. You’re supposed to talk about films and plays, and favourite ski runs. All that kind of thing.

‘No, Ronnie, I’m not gay,’ I said. ‘Are you?’

‘No.’

She stared into her mug. But I’d used tea bags, so she wasn’t going to find any answers there.

‘What’s happened to what’s his name?’ I said, lighting a cigarette.

‘Philip. He’s asleep. Or out somewhere. I don’t really know. Don’t much care, to be honest.’

‘Now, Ronnie. I think you’re just saying that.’

‘No, really. I don’t give a fuck about Philip.’

There’s always something strangely thrilling about hearing a well-spoken woman swear.

‘You’ve had a tiff,’ I said. ‘We’ve split up.’

‘You’ve had a tiff, Ronnie.’

‘Can I sleep with you tonight?’ she said.

I blinked. And then, to make sure I hadn’t just imagined it, I blinked again.

‘You want to sleep with me?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t just mean sleep at the same time as me, you mean in the same bed?’

‘Please.’

‘Ronnie . . .’

‘I’ll keep my clothes on if you like. Thomas, don’t make me say please again. It’s terribly bad for a woman’s ego.’

‘It’s terribly good for a man’s.’

‘Oh shut up.’ She hid her face in the mug. ‘I’ve gone right off you now.’

‘Ha,’ I said. ‘It worked.’

Eventually we got up and went into the bedroom.

She did keep her clothes on, as it happens. So did I, as it also happens.



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