couldn't help wondering what Tony 61 had told her as my toes fought and slashed to cut their way out of my shoes.
An hour after the call I was at the door of her Kensington flat, one floor up in one of those white buildings that used to hold one very rich family but are now home to several very, very rich families. To the side of the building were parking spaces for three cars and standing next to each other were a Rolls, a Mercedes and a Jeep - Dinah would have loved it. McKinley waited outside in our rented Granada. I was still waiting for my Porsche to be repaired, and even when it was I doubted that I'd ever let him take the wheel.
The names above the entryphone at the main door had said S. Darvell and C. Hammond-Chambers but there was no label on the shining white door to the flat itself, just a brass knocker in the shape of a diving dolphin.
She opened the door and I saw a flash of red hair cascading down to sun-browned shoulders, a wide mouth with teeth every bit as white and sparkling as the front door, then my eyes drifted down to breasts thrusting to get out of a backless white dress which stuck to her waist and hips and ended above the most perfect calves I'd ever seen.
Sammy was a cracker, an absolute angel who'd turn heads and necks and even whole bodies in order to get a better look. My eyes returned to her face, eventually, and the slightly mocking smile told me that she was getting the sort of attention she was used to and which she expected.
'Come in,' she breathed and I walked into a room which looked like a soap powder commercial. Everything - walls, carpet, settee, coffee table - everything was white, even the blue-eyed cat which lay on a sheepskin rug and purred and stretched and sounded every bit as sexy as its mistress was a dazzling white.
Another girl walked into the whiteness from a bedroom, toting a green fabric suitcase and a matching holdall.
Carol? Couldn't have been anyone else. I thought of Tony's test drive and I grinned.
'You must be Carol,' I said, and held out my hand to a curly-haired brunette with big brown almond eyes, lips that formed a permanent pout and a figure that matched Sammy's inch for inch, though she was a hand shorter. The leather jacket was white and so was the blouse, but the skirt was black and slit to the thigh and the legs were brown and sleek and long.
'Must 1?' she asked, dropping the suitcase with a dull thud and taking my hand. She glanced at Sammy and smiled. 'Yes, I suppose I must.'
. The voice was pure Cockney, belying the name and the body, and I mentally cursed Tony and his twisted sense of humour. Ultimate Sloane, indeed.
'I love the flat,' I said, looking round and releasing the cool, scarlet-fingernailed hand. 'How on earth do you keep it clean?'
'Why should it ever get dirty?' asked Carol. 'Sit down, I'll get you a drink.'
'It's OK, I'll get it,' said Sammy. 'Anyway, I thought you had to go.'
'Shit, yes, what's the time? Oh no. Was there a cab outside?' she asked me, her eyes widening.
'No,' I said, but just then we heard a horn sound in the street below and she picked up the case and headed for the door.
'I must dash,' she said. 'I'm sorry I can't stay, but l?m sure you'll get on with Sammy. Oh, and when you see Tony next, give him my love. Tell him I'll phone when I get back and he can check my tan.'
'I'll tell him,' I laughed, and then the door slammed and she was gone.
'Hectic,' I said to Sammy.
'Yes,' she nodded, shaking her head so that the waterfall of red hair swung back and forth. 'She got a call from a 63 friend in Oman. Here today, gone tomorrow. That's the way it is with Carol. No ties, no commitments.'
'The flat?'
'The flat's mine. Carol helps out with the rent but she'd never take on a mortgage in a million years. In the sixties they'd have called her a free spirit.'
'And now?'
'Irresponsible, I suppose. No, that's not fair, Carol just has different priorities to me.'
She walked past me and something smelled sweet and
An hour after the call I was at the door of her Kensington flat, one floor up in one of those white buildings that used to hold one very rich family but are now home to several very, very rich families. To the side of the building were parking spaces for three cars and standing next to each other were a Rolls, a Mercedes and a Jeep - Dinah would have loved it. McKinley waited outside in our rented Granada. I was still waiting for my Porsche to be repaired, and even when it was I doubted that I'd ever let him take the wheel.
The names above the entryphone at the main door had said S. Darvell and C. Hammond-Chambers but there was no label on the shining white door to the flat itself, just a brass knocker in the shape of a diving dolphin.
She opened the door and I saw a flash of red hair cascading down to sun-browned shoulders, a wide mouth with teeth every bit as white and sparkling as the front door, then my eyes drifted down to breasts thrusting to get out of a backless white dress which stuck to her waist and hips and ended above the most perfect calves I'd ever seen.
Sammy was a cracker, an absolute angel who'd turn heads and necks and even whole bodies in order to get a better look. My eyes returned to her face, eventually, and the slightly mocking smile told me that she was getting the sort of attention she was used to and which she expected.
'Come in,' she breathed and I walked into a room which looked like a soap powder commercial. Everything - walls, carpet, settee, coffee table - everything was white, even the blue-eyed cat which lay on a sheepskin rug and purred and stretched and sounded every bit as sexy as its mistress was a dazzling white.
Another girl walked into the whiteness from a bedroom, toting a green fabric suitcase and a matching holdall.
Carol? Couldn't have been anyone else. I thought of Tony's test drive and I grinned.
'You must be Carol,' I said, and held out my hand to a curly-haired brunette with big brown almond eyes, lips that formed a permanent pout and a figure that matched Sammy's inch for inch, though she was a hand shorter. The leather jacket was white and so was the blouse, but the skirt was black and slit to the thigh and the legs were brown and sleek and long.
'Must 1?' she asked, dropping the suitcase with a dull thud and taking my hand. She glanced at Sammy and smiled. 'Yes, I suppose I must.'
. The voice was pure Cockney, belying the name and the body, and I mentally cursed Tony and his twisted sense of humour. Ultimate Sloane, indeed.
'I love the flat,' I said, looking round and releasing the cool, scarlet-fingernailed hand. 'How on earth do you keep it clean?'
'Why should it ever get dirty?' asked Carol. 'Sit down, I'll get you a drink.'
'It's OK, I'll get it,' said Sammy. 'Anyway, I thought you had to go.'
'Shit, yes, what's the time? Oh no. Was there a cab outside?' she asked me, her eyes widening.
'No,' I said, but just then we heard a horn sound in the street below and she picked up the case and headed for the door.
'I must dash,' she said. 'I'm sorry I can't stay, but l?m sure you'll get on with Sammy. Oh, and when you see Tony next, give him my love. Tell him I'll phone when I get back and he can check my tan.'
'I'll tell him,' I laughed, and then the door slammed and she was gone.
'Hectic,' I said to Sammy.
'Yes,' she nodded, shaking her head so that the waterfall of red hair swung back and forth. 'She got a call from a 63 friend in Oman. Here today, gone tomorrow. That's the way it is with Carol. No ties, no commitments.'
'The flat?'
'The flat's mine. Carol helps out with the rent but she'd never take on a mortgage in a million years. In the sixties they'd have called her a free spirit.'
'And now?'
'Irresponsible, I suppose. No, that's not fair, Carol just has different priorities to me.'
She walked past me and something smelled sweet and
Similar Books
