Eye for an Eye by Bev Robitai Read Free Book Online Page B

She checked
the blackboard menu above the counter, looking among the many
unfamiliar items for something she could recognise. It was oddly
disconcerting to see things that she’d never heard of, when she’d
assumed that there would be no language barrier. Ah, at last –
something she could pronounce.
    ‘Hi there,
could I have fried eggs on toast, and a cup of tea, please?’
    The small Asian
lady behind the counter nodded.
    ‘Black or
white?’ Robyn looked blank. The lady repeated her question. ‘You
want black or white? Tea – black or white?’
    ‘Oh, I see! Er,
white please.’
    ‘Bag in, bag
out?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘Bag in? Or bag
out? How you want it?’
    ‘Bag out?’
guessed Robyn, confused.
    The styrofoam
cup came filled with hot water and milk, with the tea bag beside
it. Robyn dunked the bag until the mixture was deep brown, then
drank and sighed happily. There was nothing like a good cup of tea
to set you up for the day. The eggs were delicious, although the
rich dark bread was a little unusual. She would have liked a whole
big pot of tea, but had to settle for buying a second cup (white,
bag out) to finish her meal. Once fortified, she continued her walk
down to the waterfront with new vigour, striding along with purpose
in every line of her tall slim body.
    Across the
street, a large building proclaimed itself to be the Eatons Centre,
another name she recognised from the guidebook. She figured it
would be worth a look, as she might be able to use the shopping
mall as a day-time base for her operations downtown instead of
walking all the way back to the hotel.
    She entered the
revolving doors and stopped, entranced. A glassed-in entry hall
rose above her, filled with brightly coloured silk and paper kites
in all shapes and sizes catching the sunlight as they swung in the
air. In front of her, escalators carried shoppers down to the next
floor, where she found she could look right down the central atrium
to the food hall at the bottom level. Above her, several more
floors of shops extended in tiers up towards an arched glass roof
that extended like a crystal cathedral for two city blocks.
    She closed her
mouth with a snap and began to explore.
    A store selling
leather clothes caught her eye, and she paused to finger a suede
jacket hanging on a rack at the door. Instantly, a handsome young
salesman popped out to engage her in conversation.
    ‘Hi, how are
you?’
    ‘Good, thanks!’
she replied cheerfully.
    He eyed her
appraisingly.
    ‘I’ll bet you
are!’
    She burst out
laughing at this unexpected response and beat a hasty retreat. Her
budget didn’t run to leather-wear anyway.
    When she slowed
down, she found herself outside a photo-lab, where she
automatically stopped to check out the pictures in the window. A
bold advert caught her attention, telling customers to get their
photos printed on a T-shirt. She considered the possibilities, then
went inside and pulled the picture from her jeans pocket.
    ‘I’d like this
on a T-shirt, please.’
    The clerk
looked dubious. ‘It’s kinda grainy, don’t you have anything
clearer?’
    ‘No, it’s off a
TV picture. Go ahead, I think it’ll be recognisable enough for what
I want.’
    He shrugged and
made the copy, then heat-pressed it onto the shirt she chose.
    After paying
for it, she sought out a rest-room and put it on. It felt strange,
having Colwyn Symons’ picture emblazoned across her chest, but she
was sure it would help her locate him once she found the marina.
Someone down there would be bound to recognise him sooner or
later.
    As she left the
lower end of the Eatons Centre, the humidity hit hard. Within
minutes, her crisp new shirt was clinging damply to her breasts.
She pulled it free, and headed down towards the lake.
    Passing under
several huge concrete bridges humming with traffic, she couldn’t
repress a shudder at their impact on the environment. She could
imagine that there might have been grassy fields there once, rich
with wild