Dutch Courage by Elizabeth Darrell Page B

man’s usefulness, Piercey let him go. Fleet was not the type to lambast an officer – verbally behind his back, but not with a length of rope. Yet he had avoided giving his opinion of ‘our bleeding squadron hero’s’ courage. Well, Fleet was not going anywhere so there was always the prospect of a second go at him.
    Connie Bush took an instant dislike to Sherilie Fox and not simply because of the soapstar name for a woman she labelled a hard-faced bitch. Second Lieutenant Ray Fox had been allocated the house next to the Colliers, which Connie thought most unfortunate for Sam and Margot. She had not met Sherilie’s pilot husband, but any man who had willingly married this woman was unlikely to earn Connie’s favour.
    Aside from personal dislike of the size zero, brassy, overdressed, loud-mouthed Sherilie, Connie found her a fount of knowledge about everyone connected with 678 Squadron, the Colliers in particular. How much of her high-octane gossip was true was debatable, but Connie was adept at sifting the possible from the airy-fairy.
    Contrary to the habit of most people to say as little as possible to a military policewoman – Connie refused to call herself a policeperson – Sherilie’s tongue ran merrily on any point raised.
    â€˜That snooty cow next door? I’m not surprised someone let down the tyres of her bloody fancy Jag. Top marks for whoever it was. I’ve wanted to do it for yonks, only I’d’ve stuck a knife in them. Thing is, I knew it wouldn’t bother her. Phone Daddy, ask for another car. Easy-peasy. Don’t know why she bothers living in these grotty quarters. I had her money, I’d rent a villa outside the base. Have you seen inside next door? Antiques, silk cushions, crystal lamps. Haven’t seen their bed, but it’s sure to be double king size with satin sheets and quilt the colour of champagne. You know, like the people in Hello !’ A wide knowing smile. ‘Not that he’d notice the colour of the sheets. Hero? Got to be with stamina like that.’ Even more knowing smile. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a taste of it.’
    â€˜Ever any chance of that?’ Connie asked swiftly.
    â€˜Huh! Our Margot has him firmly to heel. There he is, a six foot four hunk of sinew and muscle with all the guts in the world as a fighting soldier, yet he’s a lapdog when she’s around. Practically sits up and begs for her.’
    â€˜You’re saying she wears the trousers?’
    A dirty laugh. ‘I’m saying she has his off him the minute he walks through the door. Nympho, she is. Common knowledge. Ask around.’
    Connie hid her distaste to ask, ‘How do your husband and the other men regard that set-up?’
    Sherilie’s expression changed. ‘What d’ you think? Men! If she was cross-eyed and obese they’d call him a wimp, but they all secretly lust after her.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘Oh yes, even my Ray. Caught him watching her through binocs once, dirty devil.’
    â€˜While she was undressing?’
    Smirk. ‘He knows better than to do that . Claimed he was trying to identify the plants she was digging-in. Ha! She was gardening in small, tight shorts. He was drooling over her bum as she bent over.’
    â€˜Does Mrs Collier ever respond to the admiration of other men?’
    â€˜Just the reverse, I’d say. She’s got her pet dog who’ll do anything she wants whenever she wants it.’ Sherilie’s tongue ran over her bronze-glossed lips. ‘She calls him Samson . Heard her one day when I was on the other side of the dividing hedge last summer. And she’s a right Delilah, if you ask me.’ She ran a hand over her cropped apricot-coloured hair. ‘I feel rather sorry for him, matter of fact.’
    Surprised at such a sentiment after her abusive comments, Connie asked her to explain.
    â€˜If it was just her it’d be different.