‘Lenny is a psychopath. Like a reptile he’s motivated by self-interest at all times. He had something I wanted, but then I had something he wanted more than the thing he had that I wanted. So we made our exchange. Besides, he knows a war with the Edens would have left blood on the floor, most probably his.’
‘So what do we do now?’ Her voice is so soft I almost do not hear. I see her body tremble through the thin material of her outfit, and I remember again how she trembled with trepidation every time she wanted me in Saumur. I smile inwardly.
‘You had a dream. You have to follow it. Come back to England with me.’
‘Just leave. Just like that?’
I grin. ‘We can kiss first.’
She looks around nervously. There is no one around, but she shakes her head. ‘That would be a bad idea.’
/> ‘I met your mother by the way.’
‘What? When?’
I grin. ‘Before I dropped over the wall. I tried the gate/front door route, but your mother gave me my marching orders.’ I change my voice to a falsetto. ‘This is not London, Mr. Eden. Certain niceties have to be observed.’
She giggles.
‘She also informed me that your father is in the process of arranging a suitable wedding for you. Obviously, no one had informed her that you are mine.’
‘What? My father is doing no such thing,’ she says crisply.
‘Mr. Eden,’ a stern voice calls from the French windows.
I wink at Snow. ‘I have to go, but will you come see me later at the Oberoi Grand?’
‘Yeah, I’ll come to see you,’ she says with a sultry look in her eyes.
And my fucking randy cock dances excitedly.
‘You’re not going to jump over the wall again, are you?’ she asks.
‘I think I’ll brave your mother one more time. See you later,’ I say, grinning at her.
‘Alligator,’ she says.
I turn. ‘Coming, Mrs. Dilshaw,’ I say, and start walking. As I get closer I can see how furious she is.
‘How dare you?’ she rasps.
‘Sorry, but you’d have done the same if you had travelled thousands of miles to see someone.’
‘Get out of my house.’
I smile widely. I’m in a good mood. So I’ll be generous. ‘I have a funny feeling, Mrs. Dilshaw, we’re going to be seeing a bit more of each other than you’re expecting, so it might be a good idea to keep it civil. Good day, Ma’am,’ I say, and walk out through the front door again.
My heart is soaring.
Thirty-eight
SNOW
I’ve been to The Oberoi grand a few times. It is one of the oldest heritage luxury hotels in Calcutta. As soon as you walk in from the crowded street, you enter a different world. Back to a time when the Indian Maharajas did ‘posh’ far better than the English. There are framed prints of birds and bejeweled, turbaned men on the walls. The reception floors are gleaming black marble with little diagonal white marble squares, and the dark wood paneling in the lobby is carried right through to the elevators and all the way to the toilet seat covers.
The door is held open for me by a uniformed doorlady. She is genuinely courteous and friendly. I walk up to the lobby and they call Shane’s suite for me. They probably think I am a prostitute, but I don’t care. With an impeccably polite smile, the receptionist passes the phone to me.
‘Hi,’ I say into the receiver.