“I know. She only ever cleans the clean bits of the flat. Her work load’s getting lighter by the week.”
He sat on the kitchen table, admiring her slim body.
“Will you scrub my back like that if I go and have a bath before dinner?”
“Yes, with a scourer.”
The water was deep and comfortably hot. James lay back in it luxuriously, letting Anne wash him. Then he stepped dripping out of the bath.
“You’re a bit overdressed for a bathroom attendant, darling,” he said. “Why don’t we do something about it?”
Anne slipped out of her clothes while James dried himself. When he went into the bedroom, Anne was already huddled under the sheets.
“I’m cold,” she said.
“Fear not,” said James. “You’re about to be presented with your very own six-foot hot water bottle.”
She took him in her arms.
“Liar, you’re freezing.”
“And you’re lovely,” said James, trying to hold on to every part of her at once.
“How’s your plan going, James?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you in about twenty minutes.”
She didn’t speak again for nearly half an hour, when she said:
“Out you get. The baked cheese will be ready by now and in any case I want to remake the bed.”
“No need to bother about that, you silly woman.”
“Yes, there is. Last night I didn’t sleep at all. You pulled all the blankets over to your side and I just watched you huddled up like a self-satisfied cat while I froze to death. Making love to you isn’t at all what Harold Robbins promised it would be.”
“When you’ve finished chattering, woman, set the alarm for 7 A.M.”
“7 A.M. You don’t have to be at Claridge’s until 8:30.”
“I know, but I want to go to work on an egg.”
“James, you really must give up your undergraduate sense of humor.”
“Oh, I thought it was rather funny.”
“Yes, darling. Why don’t you get dressed before the dinner is burned to a cinder?”
James arrived at Claridge’s at 8:29 A.M. Whatever his own inadequacies, he was determined not to fail the others in their plans. He tuned in to check that Stephen was in Berkeley Square and Robin in Bond Street.
“Morning,” said Stephen. “Had a good night?”
“Bloody good,” said James.
“Sleep well, did you?” asked Stephen.
“Hardly a wink.”
“Stop making us jealous,” said Robin, “and concentrate on Harvey Metcalfe.”