Read Online Ellis Peters - George Felse 12 - City Of Gold and Shadows by Ellis Peters - Free Book Online Page B

intently at his watch; but at least he had returned to the consciousness that she was present. He even managed a perfunctory smile. ‘He’ll turn up when it suits him. Don’t worry about him. What do you say, shall we see what’s on television?’
    Her thumbs pricked then. She let him accompany her into the small lounge where the set was kept in segregation from the vocal and gregarious fishermen, and settle her in a comfortable chair, cheek by jowl with a single elderly lady, who seemed pleased to have company, and disposed to conversation. That suited him very well. Charlotte was counting the seconds until he should extricate himself, and he did it in less time than she had expected, and without even the pretence of sitting down with her.
    ‘You won’t mind if I leave you to watch this without me? There’s a letter I really ought to get written tonight—I hadn’t realised it was quite so late, and I can get it off by first post if I do it now.’
    ‘Of course!’ she said. ‘In any case, I shall be going to bed very soon, I am rather tired.’
    ‘I’ll say goodnight, then, if you’ll excuse me.’
    ‘Goodnight, Mr Hambro.’
    It sounded absurdly false to her, as though they were playing a rather bald comedy for the benefit of the elderly lady, who was dividing her benign attention between them and a quivering travel film. He withdrew quickly and quietly, closing the door carefully after him. Charlotte strained her ears to hear whether he would slip out by the side door and make straight for the garage at the rear of the house for his car, but instead she heard the crisp, light rapping of his heels on the oak staircase. Room 12 was on the first floor. Arguably he must be bound there now, but almost certainly he had no intention of staying there.
    ‘Oh, dear!’ said Charlotte, groping in the depths of her handbag, ‘I seem to have left my lighter in the dining-room. So sorry to keep disturbing you like this, I must go and get it.’
    She closed the door after her no less gently and purposefully than he had done, and snatching off her shoes, ran silently up the two flights of stairs to her own room. It was a risk, for she might well have run headlong into him on the first floor landing, but she had luck, and was round the next turn of the stairs when she checked and froze against the wall, hearing his rapid steps on the oak treads below her. Very light, very hurried steps, but the bare, glossy wood turned them into a muffled drum-roll. Down to the hall again, and across it to the front door. She had made no mistake; he had an errand somewhere that would not wait.
    She ran to her own room, plunged frantically into her walking shoes, and dragged on a black coat. She had a small torch in her case, and spared the extra minute to find it and thrust it into her pocket. Even this brief delay meant that he would be out of sight and out of earshot, but did that matter at this stage? She knew, or she was persuaded that she knew, where he was bound. And he had gone out by the front door, presumably to present an appearance of normality if he should be seen by any of the family—a late evening stroll before bed being a simple enough amusement—while she could save the whole circuit of the house by using the back door close to the kitchen. At this moment she did not care at all whether she was observed, or what the observer might think of her. The curiosity which was quick in her had now a personal urgency about it. He had picked her up of intent, had followed her into this inn for some purpose of his own. And now for some purpose of his own he shook her off, and with almost insulting lack of finesse. Charlotte was not a commodity to be picked up and put down at will, and so he would find.
    She saw no sequence in what was happening, and no coherence, but she knew it was there to be seen, if only she could achieve the right angle of vision.
    Her walking shoes had formidable soles of thick, springy rubber composition,