Mrs Harris Goes to Moscow by Paul Gallico

desire to acquire something essentially inconsequential, the acquisition of a roll of toilet tissue had suddenly become the most important thing at least for that moment in Mrs Harris’s life and nothing and no one was going to stop her.
    Mrs ’Orrible shook her head, her spider’s eyes glittered and she said, ‘Nyet Manager.’
    â€˜Oh, you think so,’ shouted Mrs Harris now completely in a fury. ‘You get ’im or I’ll ’ave yer ’otel down around your ears.’
    At this point there occurred an unexpected diversion. The door directly opposite Mrs ’Orrible’s desk, numbered 701, opened partly to let the mostextraordinary head, which at first glance resembled an interested beaver, pop forth. It examined the pair for a moment and then said, ‘It won’t do you any good. There ain’t any in the whole country.’ Keen amused eyes stared through spectacled lenses. ‘Hullo,’ said the head, ‘someone from home. How would you two ladies like to join me in a little drink?’ The head then introduced itself, ‘Sol Rubin, Rubin’s Consolidated Paper Co. Ltd.’

11
    While a few more seconds ticked away into eternity the tableau in the corridor remained static like a stopped film except that an inviting smile had spread over the features of Mr Rubin. His face was a conglomeration of contradictions, much too small for the enormous swatch of dark, bushy hair. His mouth with the protruding front teeth gave it its beaver aspect plus the inevitable businessman’s moustache that wandered above it. His nose was sufficiently prominent to hold up the outsize pair of hornrimmed glasses. The thing about Mr Rubin was that overall the impression he made was one of infectious gaiety, humour and an almost childlike eagerness to please. His effect upon Ada was a calming one; she always regretted it when she lost her temper. Also with the sun long descendedbehind the yardarm it was officially drink time. The fact that somehow he seemed to know something about this paper situation had got itself stuck in her mind. She said, ‘I’m sure that’s very kind of you, sir. Harris is the name, Ada Harris, and this is me friend, Violet Butterfield. If we wouldn’t be putting you out …’
    â€˜Not at all, ladies, not at all. An unexpected pleasure.’ His speech was that of the re-educated ex-cockney. He opened the door to show that attached to the unusual head was a spry little body snappily clad in the latest Savile Row style. He didn’t click his heels together but it seemed almost that he might have done so as he invited them to enter with a wave of his arm half theatrically and grandiose, half rather charmingly enticing.
    The grating voice of Mrs ’Orrible spoke from the pulpit. ‘Is not allowed for ladies to visit gentlemen’s rooms.’
    This brought back a momentary flash of Ada’s dander as she turned upon her. ‘Oh, come orf it,’ she said. ‘At our age what do you fink’s going to ’appen? The gentleman’s invited us for a drink and sucks to you.’
    â€˜That’s it,’ said Mr Rubin enlarging his gesture of welcome so that he now struck the attitude of a dancing master. ‘Don’t pay no attention to her. She’s new anyway. I don’t know what happened to Annie. That’s the other one used to be on this floor.Annie was a little bit of all right. Knew how to close an eye. Probably having a day off. Come in, come in.’
    The two sailed in beneath the malevolent glare of Mrs ’Orrible and as soon as the door had closed behind them she reached for the telephone and dialled the number of the superior directing her activities.
    â€˜Pavel? Tashka.’
    â€˜Yes, what is it?’
    â€˜They have made contact.’
    â€˜With whom?’
    â€˜With the Jew, Rubin, in 701. They went into his room.’
    â€˜Ah!’ Pavel’s voice grew