Authors: Evelyn Anthony
Tags: #Fiction, #Espionage, #Mystery & Detective, #General
“I’m very glad,” Davina said.
“Sir James, you haven’t answered my question? When can I come back to work?”
“You can’t,” he said.
“Unless you tear this up.” He slid the envelope towards her, and her hand trembled as she opened it.
“Under Section 4, subsection 21, I, Davina Claire Graham do solemnly undertake never to see or. communicate or cause communication to be made ” She said to him in a breaking voice, “What do you mean? For God’s sake, what do you mean, tear it up…”
“I mean that you can’t have your old job back unless we get rid of that piece of paper. You do want to come back and look after Sasanov, don’t you? At least I hope you do. The man’s impossible without you. Here’s our coffee. You can smoke now if you like. That’s a nice smile, my dear. I think I’ll have a cigar. “
“He’s upstairs,” Humphrey Grant said.
“The Chief said we weren’t to tell him. He wants it to be a surprise.” His expression conveyed his distaste for the Brigadier’s little charade. Davina walked through the vaulted Victorian great hall of the officers’ training school. A young man in battle fatigues glanced at her as she crossed his path. The ugly mahogany staircase rose up in front of them, flanked by profusely carved heraldic lions, with the all-too-recent coats of arms painted and gilded on shields between their forepaws. Grant thought she looked strange; he couldn’t have called any woman attractive. Her hair was longer and loose, she seemed much younger;
there was a girlish expectancy about her that he thought positively unbecoming in a woman of mature age.
“Upstairs,” he repeated.
“I’ll lead the way.” The room was at the end of a wide corridor. Grant opened the door and stood back. Davina stepped past him and into the room. Sasanov was reading; he didn’t look up. He said, “If it’s you, Kidson, I don’t want to play chess. Leave me alone.”
“I can’t play chess,” Davina said. Grant told John Kidson about it afterwards. He needed a drink, he said, to get the taste of all that awful sentimental rubbish out of his mouth.
“They literally rushed at each other,” he exclaimed.
“He jumped out of the chair and ran at her with his arms wide open, and she threw herself into his embrace, and then thank Heaven I shut the door. I could hear their voices laughing and talking all down the corridor. I gather they want dinner upstairs and champagne! I hope the Chief knows what he’s doing.” He pursed his thin lips.
“She seemed such a proper type of woman,” he said.
“You’d never believe she could behave like that.” John Kidson didn’t answer; he only smiled.