Yesterdays Spy by Len Deighton

Author:Len Deighton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Espionage, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780446340724
Publisher: Warner Books
Published: 1986-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

'First Englishman I've seen in an age,' she said.

'No shortage in Nice.'

'These people won't let me borrow a car,' she said. 'Just because I dented their lousy old Fiat. And you change twice on the bus--I tried it once, and once was enough, I'll tell you!' She turned down the cover on the bed and tucked it in, with the quick nervous movements of a trained nurse. 'The maid should have done that before dinner,' she explained. 'No, I'm trapped here.' She smoothed her skirt over her hips as she straightened her body, and looked at me. 'I used to go for walks but I twisted my ankle, and there are mine-shafts out there with no fencing or warning notices or anything--just like the French--you could fall right down them and no one would even know about it.'

'And no cabs?'

'On my salary--you must be joking.' She gave me a knowing smile. It was the sort of smile that only beautiful young girls know about: a provocative smile from moist open lips, as sweet as fresh cream. And as ready to turn sour at the first sign of thunder.

I smiled. She walked across to the balcony where I stood. 'It's fantastic weather for this time of year,' she said. The sky was purple, and from somewhere over the hill there was a glow of red neon, Like an electronic sunset switched on all night Even before she put her arm round me, I felt the warmth of her body and smelled the cologne. 'I think I'm going to like you,' she whispered. She reached around to clasp her hands in front of me. Then she pressed her body against my back. 'I'm going to Like you very much.'

'Why?' I said.

She laughed. 'You're a cool bastard.' She blew on the back of my neck and then gently bit the lobe of my ear. 'I'm lonely,' she said finally, when she grew tired of the game.

'Not tonight,' I said. 'I've got a headache.'

She chuckled, and gripped me more tightly.

'Why don't you drink your tea?' she asked. 'It might start your blood circulating.'

'Good thinking,' I said. I took her wrists and gently broke free from her tight grasp.

I went across to the bedside table where she'd put the tray. It was an impressive spread. There were hand-embroidered napkins, solid silver cutlery and some spring flowers in a vase. The tray was set for two. I sat down on the edge of the bed and poured two cups of tea, and added milk. I heard a rustle of silk; by the time I turned round, with the cup and saucer in my hand, she was stark naked, except for a string of pearls and a heavy gold bangle that denoted her blood group.

'Damn!' she said mildly. 'I wanted to surprise you.' She flipped back the counterpane and climbed into my bed stretching her legs down into the crisp starched sheets with a sound like tearing tissue paper. 'Oooh! The sheets are cold!'

'You want a chicken sandwich?'

She shook her head.

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