Australian, but excellent.”
Lainé’s lip curled at the wine’s origin, then he shrugged and nodded. “All right. But I tell you, I don’t like the Irishman. How do you know he won’t betray us?”
Skorzeny shook his head. “He is a soldier. A good one. He will follow orders. Besides, I have placed someone close to him. Someone to keep watch for us.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T HE LANDLADY SHOWED Ryan to the parlour with its stiff-cushioned chairs and dark wallpaper. Two young women had peeked down at him from the landing above when he entered the boarding house. They had ducked back beyond the banister, giggling, when he looked up at them.
Mrs. Highland left Ryan alone to fidget on the settee. She returned a few minutes later, said Celia would be down presently.
“What are your plans for the evening?” she asked, hovering by the door as if standing sentry, her hair pulled back hard into a bun, her smile polite and tight-lipped.
“The pictures,” Ryan said.
“Oh? What’s playing?”
“The James Bond film. Dr. No. It’s based on a book by Ian Fleming.”
Her smile turned to a scowl. “I hear those books are really quite vulgar.”
Sweat gathered at the small of Ryan’s back. “I haven’t read any of them.”
“Hmm. As I’m sure you can see, I run a respectable house. I regard my girls not just as lodgers, but as wards in my care. I know some of their parents personally. I won’t insist, but I would be grateful if you brought Miss Hume back before eleven o’clock.”
Ryan smiled and nodded.
The door opened, and Celia entered. Her red hair gathered loose above her shoulders, the short-sleeved green dress simple and snug, an emerald broach the only embellishment. Mrs. Highland stood back, frowning at the sight of Celia’s freckled skin. Celia ignored her.
“Albert,” she said.
Ryan stood. “Celia.”
They stood in silence save for the ticking of the carriage clock on the mantelpiece until Celia said, “Thank you, Mrs. Highland.”
The landlady looked at them each in turn, cleared her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to make your plans. Good evening, Mr. Ryan.”
He bowed his head. “Good evening.”
Mrs. Highland left them, closed the door behind her. Ryan heard her scold the girls on the stairs.
Celia’s green-eyed gaze caused Ryan’s mouth to dry and his lips to seal shut.
When he thought he could bear the silence no longer, she said, “Mrs. Highland does like to fuss over her girls.”
Ryan’s laugh burst from him like a greyhound from a trap. He blushed, and Celia smiled.
“Shall we go?” she asked.
T HEY SAT IN the flickering dark, still and silent. Other couples leaned close, touched, the silhouettes of their heads sometimes joining together. Everyone in the room oohed in soft unison as Ursula Andress emerged tanned and shining from the sea.
The girl next to Celia looked up for a moment before turning her lips back to the boy whose hand had slipped inside her blouse. Ryan watched the shapes of the boy’s fingers move beneath the fabric. When he raised his eyes, he saw Celia looking back at him, a sly smile, her eyes glistening in the dimness.
T HEY WALKED SOUTH along D’Olier Street towards the northerly buildings of Trinity College, Celia’s arm hooked in Ryan’s. A rain shower had slicked the pavement while they’d been in the cinema, street lights reflected in the sheen. The windows of the Irish Times building glowed across the way.
“He’s ever so handsome,” she said.
“Sean Connery?”
“Yes. I met him once, at a party in London. Well, I didn’t meet him exactly, he was in the room. It was last year, just before Dr. No came out in England. You could tell to look at him he’d be a star. He had a grace about him, like an animal, a tiger or a leopard, something dangerous and beautiful.”
She spoke the words as if they were the most savoury ingredients of an exotic recipe.
“I don’t suppose it’s really like that, is it? Being a secret
Lainé’s lip curled at the wine’s origin, then he shrugged and nodded. “All right. But I tell you, I don’t like the Irishman. How do you know he won’t betray us?”
Skorzeny shook his head. “He is a soldier. A good one. He will follow orders. Besides, I have placed someone close to him. Someone to keep watch for us.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T HE LANDLADY SHOWED Ryan to the parlour with its stiff-cushioned chairs and dark wallpaper. Two young women had peeked down at him from the landing above when he entered the boarding house. They had ducked back beyond the banister, giggling, when he looked up at them.
Mrs. Highland left Ryan alone to fidget on the settee. She returned a few minutes later, said Celia would be down presently.
“What are your plans for the evening?” she asked, hovering by the door as if standing sentry, her hair pulled back hard into a bun, her smile polite and tight-lipped.
“The pictures,” Ryan said.
“Oh? What’s playing?”
“The James Bond film. Dr. No. It’s based on a book by Ian Fleming.”
Her smile turned to a scowl. “I hear those books are really quite vulgar.”
Sweat gathered at the small of Ryan’s back. “I haven’t read any of them.”
“Hmm. As I’m sure you can see, I run a respectable house. I regard my girls not just as lodgers, but as wards in my care. I know some of their parents personally. I won’t insist, but I would be grateful if you brought Miss Hume back before eleven o’clock.”
Ryan smiled and nodded.
The door opened, and Celia entered. Her red hair gathered loose above her shoulders, the short-sleeved green dress simple and snug, an emerald broach the only embellishment. Mrs. Highland stood back, frowning at the sight of Celia’s freckled skin. Celia ignored her.
“Albert,” she said.
Ryan stood. “Celia.”
They stood in silence save for the ticking of the carriage clock on the mantelpiece until Celia said, “Thank you, Mrs. Highland.”
The landlady looked at them each in turn, cleared her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to make your plans. Good evening, Mr. Ryan.”
He bowed his head. “Good evening.”
Mrs. Highland left them, closed the door behind her. Ryan heard her scold the girls on the stairs.
Celia’s green-eyed gaze caused Ryan’s mouth to dry and his lips to seal shut.
When he thought he could bear the silence no longer, she said, “Mrs. Highland does like to fuss over her girls.”
Ryan’s laugh burst from him like a greyhound from a trap. He blushed, and Celia smiled.
“Shall we go?” she asked.
T HEY SAT IN the flickering dark, still and silent. Other couples leaned close, touched, the silhouettes of their heads sometimes joining together. Everyone in the room oohed in soft unison as Ursula Andress emerged tanned and shining from the sea.
The girl next to Celia looked up for a moment before turning her lips back to the boy whose hand had slipped inside her blouse. Ryan watched the shapes of the boy’s fingers move beneath the fabric. When he raised his eyes, he saw Celia looking back at him, a sly smile, her eyes glistening in the dimness.
T HEY WALKED SOUTH along D’Olier Street towards the northerly buildings of Trinity College, Celia’s arm hooked in Ryan’s. A rain shower had slicked the pavement while they’d been in the cinema, street lights reflected in the sheen. The windows of the Irish Times building glowed across the way.
“He’s ever so handsome,” she said.
“Sean Connery?”
“Yes. I met him once, at a party in London. Well, I didn’t meet him exactly, he was in the room. It was last year, just before Dr. No came out in England. You could tell to look at him he’d be a star. He had a grace about him, like an animal, a tiger or a leopard, something dangerous and beautiful.”
She spoke the words as if they were the most savoury ingredients of an exotic recipe.
“I don’t suppose it’s really like that, is it? Being a secret
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