night or two in the beginning ... we’ve done all that can be expected of us, keeping her here almost a fortnight.”
“Did she leave her address?” Hart asked.
“No. But I expect she’ll be phoning you or writing. She was trying to get a room in the Barchester for tonight.”
Suddenly Hart looked desperately tired. “I hope to heaven she’ll keep in touch!” he murmured with an alarming fervency. “I’m sorry she rushed off like this, Jan. I wish you could have avoided it.”
There was reproach in his tone—and something deeper that troubled Jan. Was it possible that Gerda had been of some use to her father in his work after all ? Making contacts for him, perhaps, with old Fleet Street connections ? There couldn’t, she told herself fiercely, be any more personal reason for his obvious regret at her departure. But her heart was heavy with nameless foreboding as she moved through the silent house, locking doors and windows for the night, listening to the last sullen rumbling of the thunderstorm rolling away across the river.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At last the date was fixed for the removal of the E.106a to Merecombe. Mike and Daker lived in the experimental hangar, absorbed in a fever of last-minute, adjustments. There would be at least three weeks of preliminary ground work at Merecombe before the prototype was ready for taxi trials—and, ultimately, its maiden flight. Mike and the rest of the team who would supervise this work would fly to and from Kingsfold during this period.
On the Saturday before Mike’s first disappearance to Merecombe was due he sought Jan out in the canteen where she was having her midmorning coffee and asked her if she were free that evening.
“I’m feeling like a bit of a beano before the balloon goes up,” he said, “and it’s my turn to stand treat. You’re always giving me these magnificent meals at Regency Terrace!”
“Two very humble suppers,” Jan laughed.
“Including a birthday party,” Mike reminded her. “That was the evening I first plucked up courage to ask you to do a flick with me. Would you like to go to a cinema tonight, or shall we find a quiet spot in Soho and have a long, leisurely meal?”
“The long, leisurely meal sounds wonderful!” Jan said, suppressing the little thrill of importance that had come to her with Mike’s remark about having had to pluck up his courage that first night he had asked her out. It was just a figure of speech, of course, and tonight he was inviting her to dinner from a sense of duty. A return for hospitality received.
They were standing by the neon-lit counter with the mirrored panelling behind it, and suddenly Erica was there in the mirrors coming towards them.
“What are you two cooking up? You look very pleased with yourselves,” she said.
“We’re just trying to work out where we’ll have dinner tonight,” Mike said. “Les Trois Soeurs, I think, they do the most wonderful things with filet steak.”
Erica’s face went rigid. For a moment she seemed too taken aback to speak, then she said in a low, hurt voice; “Mike, how could you have forgotten! It’s the end of the month dance at the Flying Club ... something we always go to together.”
Mike gave a cool little shrug. “Sorry, Rikky,” he apologized, “it did slip my mind. I suppose, subconsciously, I’d decided you wouldn’t be needing me.”
Erica’s face cleared and her spurt of laughter held a note of mockery. “Oh, Mike ... you really are too sweet when you’re being jealous! Paleski will be at the dance, of course, but that’s no reason why you should keep away. I want you to know him better ... and like him.” She looked up at him entreatingly, her blue eyes dark as sapphires and brilliantly ablaze. “He’s such a fine person really.” He voice dropped confidentially. “‘Don’t join in the family disapproval of him! It would be such a help if I could feel you were on my side in this thing.”
Jan hurriedly finished her
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham