A Pigeon Among the Cats by Josephine Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

type, perhaps even county; do-gooder, perhaps. Hardly that, too intelligent, his cynical mind suggested. But anyway, Gwen as he now called her, with the same anxious face she had worn in Geneva a fortnight before. Quite unmistakable.
    So now what? In Switzerland he had decided she was a frightened, obedient doll, not quite in her first youth, but pretty enough when she smiled, as he discovered later; arranging to cache the large sum she carried in that heavy suitcase and then go straight back home, having filled up that empty case with some of her belongings waiting at the hotel.
    Then what was she doing in Italy, going quietly on a tour of the three important cities? Rome, Florence, Venice, the brochure told him. Why? And why the give-away wedding ring? Not that it mattered. Particularly if she was, after all, just a common whore.
    But she was not that, he decided. She was experienced, she was skilful, she was what they called “a good lay”, or used to call it. Owen shivered a little as he accused himself of being perhaps out of date, behind the times, reaching the moment when he must retire from his lucrative career or business as it might better be called. And yet he was not in a position to do so. Had he ever been? Had he not always been catching up on his losses, all his life? If he gave up now, how would he spend his time, how provide for his permanently expensive tastes?
    Owen drowned these morbid thoughts in another brandy taken from his personal supply in his room. Afterwards he decided to continue his pursuit of Gwen until he discovered what she was really at. He decided he was interested in her personally as well, quite apart from the business angle. She was not afraid of him, for one thing. All that guff about a hopeless affair with her boss was sheer balls and she had understood that he knew it. But she had not been afraid, for she had rounded on him before she walked out. What was he doing in Switzerland? No denial of her appearance there, but a definite counter-threat. Great girl — perhaps. He’d damn well find out.
    On their last day in Rome the ‘Roseanna’ tourists were to visit the catacombs in the morning and the Colosseum in the afternoon. Having avoided the evening tours of the two previous nights Mrs. Lawler decided to go on both of these expeditions.
    Besides, there was Gwen, appealing to her to be there.
    â€œYou aren’t still nervous about that man?” she asked the girl, as they waited to take their places in the coach the next morning.
    â€œI am, you know,” Gwen answered, though she looked really pretty that morning, Rose Lawler thought. She was wearing a fresh sleeveless cotton dress or rather shift about mid-thigh in length, but the legs were good and could take it. Far better than some of the other women, who looked well enough in slacks but not so good when they disclosed wide expanses of solid flesh or spindly blue-veined shanks.
    Penny Banks dragged up the coach steps in another multi-coloured ankle length piece of material, topped by her usual dirty off-white sweater. But she stood aside for her mother to climb the steps before her and Mrs. Lawler, with a cheerful “Thank, you, Penny; what a lovely day” plunged quickly behind Mrs. Banks and received nothing in return but a fierce look and a movement of the mouth that might produce a collection of spit or merely a protruded tongue.
    â€œYou’ve got that girl taped,” Gwen said as they drove away. “She didn’t do a thing when you cut in getting on board. Just looked daggers. And she hasn’t even started up one of those cigarettes. Pot, aren’t they?”
    â€œSo that’s what the smell is?” Rose answered, taking it for granted Gwen knew or she would not have suggested it. She merely turned to glance at Penny, before removing her gaze and smile to her Civil Service friends, three rows behind on the girl’s side.
    It was indeed a lovely day, a hot sun in