Damned Good Show by Derek Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

money. Spencer got the title and fifty thousand acres of beef ranch in Africa and the apartment in Albany, rather a long way from Africa so he lets me use it, and unless you know some reason why not, such as bigamy or insanity or—God forbid—impotence, I suggest we marry. Fast.”
    He took a deep breath, held it while he counted to five, let it go. “This time yesterday we hadn’t met. How can we be sure that…”
    â€œOh, tosh. We knew after ten seconds. Ten weeks’ thinking about it won’t change anything, will it?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œGood, that’s settled. I can call you darling now. I’ve been itching to do it all morning. Get the bill, darling. We must order you some more suits, darling. You look ravishing in tweed, darling.”
    â€œWell, ravishing is what I do best.”
Oops
, he thought.
Bit premature, that.
“Or so my horoscope says.”
    â€œI expect we could get a room here,” she said, “if your lust is overflowing.”
    â€œNo, no. Not necessary.” As he paid the bill he wondered why he had said that. Why be so coy? So cautious? Of course his bloody lust was bloody overflowing. She looked like a nymph and dressed like a dream and called him darling. How was he supposed to feel? He over-tipped hugely, and felt slightly better.
    They strolled through a few colleges. She said enough to prevent awkward silences and no more. Her mind was busy making and unmaking thoughts which she was afraid to put into words in case they spoiled the happiness of the moment. She was twenty-six, utterly determined never to marry a man who was merely suitable. London was littered with suitable men. She had told so many of them they were wasting their time, that her friends had decided her standards were impossibly high. But all she wanted was someone to give her what she didn’t know she wanted until she got it.
    Not just sex. Sex might be essential but it wasn’t crucial. Or perhaps the other way around, she didn’t care, sex happened, it was glorious but it was predictable. Life wasn’t all sex. She wanted to be surprised from time to time. Maybe shocked, even frightened. That’s what made Langham a perfect match for her. She was looking for trouble and he was a trouble-maker. He thought he could hide it. She knew better.
    On the way back to London she saw a lone Spitfire doing aerobatics. Langham stopped the car and they watched it. Wing-over, plunge, soar, loop, roll, level out, steep bank, circle. “Probably doing an air-test,” he said. “Making sure none of the screws are loose.”
    â€œThrilling. Doesn’t it thrill you?”
    â€œIt interests me.
You
thrill me.”
    She was silent, which made him look. Blood had rushed to her cheeks. He was impressed by his own powers.
    That night he did not sleep on the couch. Again, he was impressed by his own powers until she said: “There’s no hurry. We’ve got hours and hours.”
    He felt the light sweat drying on his body, and listened to his heartbeat dropping to normal. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”
    â€œWe’ll call that an air-test.”
    â€œAgreed.”
    â€œNow we know that none of the screws are loose.”
    â€œExactly. We can explore the wide blue yonder.”
    â€œInfinity for eternity,” she said. “Yummy.”
    Langham had never known a popsy who talked like that.
    Next morning they walked to Savile Row and ordered some suits from Latham & Nunnerley. Zoë charged them to her brother’s account. Then they drove to Richmond and lunched at a riverside hotel. The air was easy, and there was just enough haze in the sky to soften the heat of the sun. An anti-aircraft gun had been set up on the other side of the Thames. The soldiers were playing cricket with a tennis ball. “This war is a swiz,” Langham said. “I want my money back.” It had been a busy night and now he