“We will not,” she said, snatching her hand away.
“My God, doesn’t anyone think about anything except screwing these days.”
Amused laughter fanned her face.
“Who said anything about screwing?”
“I’m going.”
“I’ll see you out.”
She took a deep breath.
“Why do you want to go upstairs?”
“My flat’s up there and I need a bath.”
“So what do you want me for?”
He sighed.
“If you remember, Rosalind, it was you who came in here asking for me.
I’ve never met a woman who was so damn prickly.”
“Prickly!” she stuttered.
“My God, that’s rich. You stink to high heaven, you’ve obviously been in a fight, you plunge us into total darkness, moan about not having any customers and then turn them away when they do come, make me sit for five minutes without moving, try to manhandle me upstairs….” She paused for breath.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she blurted out.
“Oh, great! That’s all I need.” He took her hand again.
“Come on. I’m not going to rape you. To tell you the truth I haven’t the strength at the moment. What’s wrong?”
She stumbled after him.
“I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Join the club.” He led her through the darkened kitchen and unlocked a side door, reaching past her to switch on some lights.
“Up the stairs,” he told her, ‘and the bathroom’s on the right.”
She could hear him double-locking the door behind her as she collapsed on the lavatory seat and pressed her head between her knees, waiting for the waves of nausea to pass.
The light came on.
“Here. Drink this. It’s water.” Hawksley squatted on the floor in front of her and looked into her white face. She had skin like creamy alabaster and eyes as dark as sloes. A very cold beauty, he thought.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What?”
“Whatever’s making you so unhappy.”
She sipped the water.
“I’m not unhappy. I’m hungry.”
He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright.
“OK. Let’s eat. How does sirloin steak sound?”
She smiled weakly.
“Wonderful.”
“Thank God for that! I’ve got a freezer full of the flaming stuff. How do you like it?”
“Rare but-‘ “But what?”
She pulled a face.
“I think it’s the smell that’s making me sick.” She put her hands to her mouth.
“I’m sorry but I really think it would be better if you got cleaned up first. Mackerel-flavoured sirloin doesn’t appeal over much.”
He sniffed at his sleeve.
“You don’t notice it after a while.” He turned the taps on full and emptied bath foam into the running water.
“There’s only the one loo, I’m afraid, so if you’re going to puke you’d better stay there.” He started to undress.
She stood up hurriedly.
“I’ll wait outside.”
He dropped his jacket on to the floor and unbuttoned his shirt.
