Read Online Dangerous in Love - Dangerous Davies 02 by Leslie Thomas - Free Book Online Page A

astonishment the dog at once reappeared, heading in their direction at speed. Behind him came a dirty white cavalry charge of fierce sheep, led by a rampant ram, head down.
    'Let's go,' said Mod. He jumped into the front seat and slammed the door. Davies bellowed: 'Run!' at the dog and threw open the rear door. Kitty came down the slope at a gallop, and flung himself heavily into the back of the car. Davies slammed the door and ran for the driving seat. He started the engine, making the snorting ram and the sheep swerve. As the Vanguard roared away, they ran beside it. Gradually, they dropped back and Davies saw them in the driving mirror, grouped in the road, glowering. Kitty looked up and barked defiantly from the rear window.
    It was almost midday when they reached the higher moor, which rose like a brown blanket, and Davies pointed the Vanguard's sturdy nose on the final upward track. Mist came down, then drizzle within the mist, while the road curved and canted. Mod saw a long drop over his side of the car and fell silent. Eventually they reached a sign which said 'Topling-on-the-Moor', and beyond that the broken silhouette of a long building. 'Topling Hall,' read Mod from the gate. He peered through the drizzle. 'Toppling it seems to be,' he said.
    The house was half demolished, one wing lying in grey rubble, rafters and beams standing out like bones. They left the car and doubtfully walked towards it. Only the front portion was complete, its windows staring apprehensively, with the expressions of condemned men. A notice, like a personal warning to Davies, said: 'Keep out - Dangerous.'
    Within the stone porch was a bell-pull in the shape of a nose. Davies pulled it. A dull dong echoed within the house, followed eventually by the squeaking of metal and the scraping of the door. As it opened pulverized plaster showered from the lintel. A stout untidy man stood there, debris on his black overcoat. 'This place gets terribly dusty,' he said, attempting to brush it off. 'Come in, will you.'
    He led them through a giant hall, pillars and vaulted ceiling, with half-conce aled portraits peering out like spies. 'This part of the buildi ng's all right,' he assured them. 'It's the middle portion that's unsafe. The back's already fallen down, as you probably saw. I was going to have it double-glazed, but it scarcely seems worth it now.'
    They followed him into a big and chilly chamber. A single-bar electric fire stood balefully in the void of a grand fireplace, an armchair drawn close to it. A dog like a dinosaur glanced up at their arrival but collapsed back to its prostrate place before the meagre warmth. 'We squabble over the fire,' said the man. He smiled surprisingly brightly through his dust. 'I'm Robin Ingate,' he said, revealing a hand from his overcoat sleeve. 'I'm so glad you came. I don't get many visitors. How about a drink?'
    Davies introduced himself and then Mod. 'It's good of you to agree to see us, Colonel Ingate,' he said. His eyes travelled about. 'I expect you're kept pretty busy.'
    The old officer was pouring long measures of sherry from a decanter. 'Bloody good stuff, this is,' he said, handing it to them. 'All that's left, the cellar. I've still got ten or fifteen years to get through down there.' He went to the chair and motioned them to a threadbare six-seater sofa. Davies rummaged behind his back and produced a massive bone from a crevice. The colonel leaned forward and took it from him. 'We wondered where that had gone,' he said amiably. He raised his glass and they raised theirs.
    'Just marking time, now,' he said, as if he owed them an explanation. 'Just trying to synchronize what's left, so that when I die the rest of the damn place will fall on top of me. Make rather a grand tomb, don't you think?'
    They laughed uneasily. The colonel said: 'I was delighted with your call. Not many people telephone me these days. In fact, I'm surprised the blessed thing still functions. I can't recall paying a bill for