Unknown by Unknown Page B

college-trained secretary, who knows everything there is to know about running an office! I find it just as hard to believe as that one about you being a professional photographer. Is it true?’
    ‘It might be. But why should that make you so mad?’
    ‘It might be true? Don’t you think I’ve been watching the pair of you like a hawk? You almost had me believing that photography story—and now there’s a sudden switch. Well?’
    ‘All right, it’s true,’ she lied. After all, why should he have it all his way all the time? ‘Would you like to see my college degree? It’s in Business Administration.’
    ‘There’s a catch here someplace,’ he snarled, ‘and I’ll find out what it is sooner or later.’
    ‘Pooh, pooh,’ she said airily, waving off his objections. ‘And I hope I find you well too?’
    ‘Stop playing games,’ he said. ‘Put up or shut up. Come on.’ He started to walk away, heading straight for the cellar ramp. Katie sat where she was, half-smiling. He stopped as soon as he realised she was not moving. ‘Well, are you coming?’ he growled.
    ‘I don’t think so,’ she said primly. ‘Is there any reason why I should?’
    ‘Oh, come off it. You know the second act in this play. I say, “Are you truly a marvellous office worker?” And you say, “Yes, of course I am.” And I say, “Oh, how wonderful. I am all mixed up in paperwork, and you have been sent by heaven to help me.” And then you say, “Of course I’ll help you, Harry.” And then we go down into my office and the plot unrolls!’
    ‘What a wonderful script,’ Katie said, with just a slight touch of disdain in her voice. ‘Do you write all your own material, or do you have help?’
    He stood with his mouth open, staring at her. ‘You mean you’re going to offer to help me?’
    ‘Help you what? I haven’t heard anything yet that would make me be inclined to help you with anything. How is Eloise?’
    ‘To hell with Eloise,’ he snarled.
    ‘My sentiments exactly,’ she retorted. ‘My, you have a fine command of words.’
    ‘Katie Russel, sometimes you make me so—’ He turned so that she could only see his back. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, and he was muttering under his breath. And then he turned round again.
    ‘Hello, Katie,’ he said calmly. ‘How’s your foot? Are you enjoying the air out here?’
    ‘Okay,’ she replied. ‘Now I’ll help you. You do need help, don’t you?’
    ‘Lord, yes,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve got papers piled up two miles high. Do you really know about that sort of thing? You will help?’
    ‘I said it. I always keep my word.’
    ‘Katie, that’s wonderful—I think. C’mon.’ This time she followed him, guiding her chair carefully down the ramp, through a pair of double doors, and into an air-conditioned workshop. It stretched almost the entire length of the house. Just as Mary had said, tables along the walls were filled with operating model trains, both steam and diesel. They were all busily going somewhere, between carefully modelled towns and mills and deserts.
    ‘I wish I were a boy,’ Katie marvelled. ‘What a beautiful set of toys.’
    ‘Now you’re being insulting,’ he complained. ‘Those are definitely not toys. You are looking at an HO gauge model railroad. Everything is built to scale, and copied from real equipment. I’ve got one hundred and fifty model-miles of track there.’
    ‘And you’re playing with them?’
    ‘Not a bit,’ he laughed. ‘Well, not at this moment. My computer is running them. We’re testing this little thing.’ He held up a little black box with an antenna on it. ‘Most trains are controlled by running signals along the tracks,’ he explained. ‘In our case, every one of those engines is separately controlled by radio.’
    ‘That’s nice, but not new,’ she lectured him. ‘My brothers fly radio-controlled aeroplanes all the time!’
    ‘Yes, but. . .’ he said, ‘but I can run each