Precious Time - Part 2

On the next day the first of my modelling sessions was to take place. After a shower, I addressed the most pressing question facing a girl in my situation, deciding what to wear. After trying a few different styles I chose a pleat skirt in an ecru shade and a tight top which went well with it. Pleased with the how the result discreetly showed off my curviness, I headed down to the restaurant for breakfast. The Plaza provided a tempting choice to suit all tastes but I resisted and helped myself to coffee and a bowl of fruit and yoghurt.

Returning to my room I set about making myself up with particular care. I donned my blonde wig and the transformation to Mistie was complete. There was a convenient exit from the Plaza via the hotel garage providing me with the ability to enter and leave without passing the reception desk, the benefit being that I need not concern myself about which persona I happened to have adopted. Minutes later I was hailing a cab enroute to the studio.

The photo session that day was pretty routine and went very smoothly. By mid-afternoon, I was done for the day. I made my adieus to the proprietor, Madame Blanche, as she liked to term herself and left. Before leaving the building, I visited the powder room and removed all traces of my working persona to emerge as Jennifer once again. Instead of calling a cab I’d decided to return to the hotel on foot. In these hotter southern climes I would feel more comfortable if free of my blonde hairpiece and without its encumbrance it would be very pleasant to stroll along in the sunshine.

Exploring a strange town was exciting. I walked through a street market which adjoined the downtown. There were new sights, sounds and smells in abundance and my progress slowed time and again as my attention was caught by objects of interest. I purchased some fruit at a stall and tried on a few trinkets at another. It took much longer than I’d estimated to reach the hotel but who cared? After work, the rest of the day was my own and hey, I was having fun!

As I sauntered through the hotel lobby without a care in the world, I was brought up short by the sight which met my eyes. Occupying a circular bench in the centre of the adjoining lounge was seated a figure I didn’t particularly want to see. With a leaden feeling in the pit of my stomach I recognised the agent I’d met on my journey here. Guy was hunched over what looked like a glass of coke and though I was well within his field of vision he pointedly was not noticing me!

I heaved a reluctant sigh and took the hint. Without regarding the man in the least, I walked across to one of the bookshelves on the wall and selected a volume at random. Then I positioned myself on the same bench but with my back to him. I waited. His move!

It was some minutes before he spoke. “Where have you been?” came his urgent whisper at last. “Your session finished at two-thirty, and you ought to have been back hours ago. I called your room three times. In the end I decided to come here in person.”

“Okay, okay” I murmured, marvelling at the amount of detailed information he possessed about my day. “I didn’t know when you would want to contact me.”

“Try and be more predictable, please. It’s vital that we are not seen to be connected. Meeting isn’t safe, anywhere!”

I bowed my head in what I hoped was a contrite pose, though as he sat with his face away from me my humility was doubtless lost upon the man. “What am I to do, then?”

“Not so fast. You ought to know a little more about what you might be facing here. The organisation we suspect to be the source of the leaks is called Research Incorporated. Last month we put one of our agents into it, name of Charlie Waters. That was a disaster. Two weeks ago he was found stabbed. We got him to hospital, but it was too late. We have no clue as to what he’d discovered. All Waters spoke of before he died was some phrase that we don’t understand, something like Grey Falcon.”

“The Grey Falcon?”

“We can’t be sure. If that’s what he actually said, it signifies some place or someone, but so far that hasn’t made any sense to us.”

“It sounds like a bar.”

“There’s no such place in town. I checked.”

Unable to suggest an alternative my thoughts ran in another direction. “If he was killed then it shows he was definitely onto something” I murmured uneasily.

“Yes, and it also shows that this assignment is dangerous. If you want to pull out, I will quite understand.” What I took to be a note of heaviness crept into Guy’s voice as he spoke these words. I could tell that the man was facing a burdensome scenario.

His disclosure reinforced the doubts I had been entertaining over getting involved in this clandestine work. Such a ready-made excuse to drop the whole deal ought to have been welcome to my ears. Naturally I ought to shrink from getting involved in anything hazardous. I had responsibilities to care for Rachel and the baby she was carrying. My baby. Just now, I was the sole breadwinner in our household. Something in the government man’s manner stopped me in my tracks however, and I heard myself saying. “No. You can count me in!”

Perhaps I was crazy, but the heartfelt sigh of relief uttered from my companion provided sufficient reward for the present time.

“Good girl!”

“What will I do?” I repeated my former question.

“I’d like you to begin by seeing if you can get to know a man called Smith, Carson Smith. He works as a technician at Research Incorporated. Reputedly he’s brilliant but also somewhat unstable and we know that Waters was checking on him. He may be at the heart of this whole business.”

“Why don’t you arrest him?”

“There’s a reason we don’t want to do that, a very good reason.”

“Well?”

“It’s complicated and there’s no time to explain right now. I just need you to get to know the guy, friendly-like.”

That seemed easy. “Where can I find him?”

“There’s a night spot across town called the Continental where we know he hangs out. Quite a few of his colleagues go there, it seems. It’s well-known as a place where certain types of females can be met, good-time girls, often spoilt debutantes looking for excitement. Young, pretty and frivolous are Smith’s particular preferences, apparently. You possess the first two qualities in spades and, I’m guessing, can easily pretend to the third so it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to make contact.”

I was flattered by his confidence in me. It made a change for me not to be regarded as a complete shatter brain, as my mother would have phrased it. Perhaps little Jenny Wren had grown wings!

“Do you think you can do that?”

“I guess.” The task didn’t sound too demanding. I was quite accustomed to being on the receiving end of men’s attention so I reckoned I could handle whatever fallout might result.

“It isn’t the choicest of places for a respectable girl to be seen in. You may need to dress a little on, shall we say, the louche side.”

“I can do ‘louche’” I tried not to smile.

“This is serious” came back the murmured reproof.

I had already become practical, however. None of the clothes I had brought with me would be suitable for such an enterprise. “I’ll need something glamorous to wear… I know. I may be able to borrow a prom dress from tomorrow’s photoshoot. I’m sure there’ll be something there that will hit the right note… or is it the wrong note?” I stifled a giggle.

Ignoring my levity, Guy sounded deadly serious. “That’s good!” He drained his glass and stood to go. “We’ll be in touch.”

“But…” Next moment I was alone. Aargh! How was I to get hold of the man if I needed to? What was I supposed to look for if I encountered this Carson? I tried to control my vexation over the sketchiness of the briefing I’d received. I shrugged my shoulders, returned my book to the shelves and made my way disconsolately up to my room. There would be nothing for it but to follow the scant instruction I’d been given and proceed blindly, one step at a time.

The following day’s photo session went as well as the previous one and Madame Blanche seemed highly satisfied with my efforts. I took advantage of the favourable climate to make my request.

The woman thought for a moment then grudgingly gave her approval. “Well… just this once. Feel free to borrow one of the items you have already modelled. They won’t be used again as props and if we were to sell them it would be for a fraction of their worth, so we won’t do that either. More to the point, it would clearly undermine the novelty of the range itself when it finally comes to market if it were seen too often. However… I guess that a single one being worn just once won’t hurt. As long as you bring whatever you select straight back, you may go ahead and choose one!”

I needed no further urging. It took a considerable time to decide what to borrow as there were several styles and hues of evening frock now available. I wanted something a little risqué that didn’t make me look trashy. In the end I settled for a ruffled cocktail-length dress in shocking pink which looked as if it had stamina.

This time I hailed a cab for the return to the hotel, anxious to avoid compromising Guy’s ideas on security. It wasn’t that I dreaded another scolding from my ‘control’, as I was beginning to think of him, but was mindful that any tardiness might put either one of us in some real or imagined danger. To my disappointment, the hotel lobby was devoid of tall, dark handsome men and putting my head around the door to check in the lounge drew a blank also. I took the stairs up to my room and let myself in. There was no sign of Guy there either, but before me on the carpet lay something which possibly might hold a clue.

I pounced on the plain envelope which had been slipped under the door and lost no time opening it. Out tumbled a latchkey. Picking it up from where it had fallen, I gazed at it in puzzlement. I searched the envelope for a note of explanation but there was nothing except a letter ‘G’ inscribed under its fold. That meant it was from Guy, I hazarded. I could make that connection, but from there on in I was mystified.
It wasn’t until I noticed that on the fob attached to the key was printed an address, ‘The Oaktree Motel’ and a number 17 had been scrawled over it. A rendezvous perhaps? Even I could work that out. Perhaps I was getting better at this spying game. Why, I wondered, did the infuriating man have to be so obscure? I determined to go to the motel later that same evening after my excursion to the nightclub. Though I didn’t feel in the least hungry with all the excitement, I hastily devoured a sandwich, curtesy of room service, then after showering, I made myself up again with extra special care.

When, finally, I put on my prom dress I was satisfied that I’d made a good choice. The material was soft and flowing and had a subtle sheen which I liked. Its off the shoulder style revealed a little, but not too much, of my swelling bustline. There were matching shoes and purse too, providing a touch of class. The result was very feminine but not overly provocative and that was what I thought I should be aiming for.

When I contemplated the evening ahead, the adrenalin was pumping. What might be demanded of me? However, Agent J was on the case and though she might be lacking in experience, I took solace in that she looked the part she intended to play. This was thrilling!

I put on a little cropped jacket over my frock, phoned for a cab and ten minutes later I was on my way across town.

“The Grey Falcon, please!” I directed the driver. After all, he might be in possession of more local knowledge than the government man.

“Where’s that?” came the response.

“I thought you would know.”

“Beats me!”

“Okay.” It had been worth a shot, but I had to admit to myself that Guy’s research had been thorough. There was clearly no such place in town.

“Take me to the Continental, then.”

“You got it.”

The lobby of the nightspot was brightly lit and the décor upbeat, not to say garish. After visiting the powder room to check my hair and make-up, I made my way with trepidation to the barroom. I entered and sauntered across the room as calmly as I could, my heart thumping so loudly I wondered if it could be heard.

An eye-catching group of girls were chatting to one of the waitresses at one end of the counter. The bar attendant’s style of dress was loud, and her clientele had clearly spared no trouble nor expense in getting themselves up. There were bouffant dresses and elaborately coiffed hairdos galore. Their babble of conversation fell ominously silent at my approach. I became conscious of unfriendly stares, which added to my sense of disquiet. I immediately felt myself to be underdone and awkward, though in reality my own outfit was not dissimilar to their own.

Whether the hostility I sensed was real or merely a product of my fevered imagination, I’m not sure, but instinctively I sheered away from the group and continued on to the other end of the bar where there was space to breathe. My eyes met those of the woman serving behind that part of the counter. She was less exotically dressed than her colleague and younger, and there was sympathy in the glances we exchanged.
“I believe its frosty in some parts tonight” she commented with an arch smile.

I grinned back at her. Here, at least, was another human being.

“Oh, well” I shrugged. “They’re young!”

“Too right! If any of them are sixteen, I’ll be surprised.”

Being nearly seventeen myself, much more mature, I felt glad to excluded from her summation! Sophisticatedly, I tried not to laugh too loudly. “Really? They seem so self-assured.”

“It comes of having a rich daddy.”

“You might be right.” I seated myself on the nearest stool.

“I know I am! Well, what can I get you?”

Before I could answer, I heard “Allow me.” Glancing over my shoulder I saw that the words had come from a well-spoken man, tall and fair-haired, who had approached unheard and stood a few yards behind me.

“May I send you a drink!”

I liked his good manners and inclined my head in assent.

“I can recommend the martinis here” he added. “Very dry.”

I nodded my assent and my friendly bar attendant set about mixing one. That gave me time to consider how I ought to act to handle the unexpected attention I was getting. By the time the drink was ready I had reached the only conclusion possible. I would simply go with the flow!

I turned my head towards the man. “Thank you, kind sir. Won’t you join me?”

“You’re welcome, pretty lady. I’d like that.”

I sipped my drink cautiously as the lean blond guy walked over and sat himself beside me. He ordered the same drink. “I guess you’re new around here, else why would a classy girl like you be seen in the Continental, and on her own.”

“I’m just visiting this city for a few days. I heard this was the hippest place in town and I thought I’d check it out.” I responded defensively.
He nodded in agreement and a silence followed.

This approach wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed to stay friendly but be more assertive. “Do you always give your new friends the third degree? I’m Jennifer, by the way.”

The blonde man held up his hands in mock surrender.

“And I’m Carson, Carson Smith. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be impertinent.”

Bullseye! The immediate goal of my mission had been accomplished, and at the first attempt too. I tried not to let my triumph go to my head. Now what I must do would be to find out what he was doing here and more about this place itself. How to achieve that I hadn’t any clear idea. I would just have to play it by ear.

“That’s okay. I’m not really mad at you, Carson. That’s an unusual name, but it seems to suit you.”

“Glad you like it. It was my maternal grandfather’s name. I hope it’s the first of many things about me you find acceptable.”

We chatted back and forth in light vein for some time. He downed his martini at a gulp and at his signal the waitress poured him another. “That makes five” she murmured under her breath.

I sipped my drink cautiously. I was well aware that I was unused to strong liquor and it might be vital to keep a clear head. However, my new acquaintance was easy to talk to. He had a wonderful smile which seemed to light up the whole room. I took him to be just like any other regular fellow. Perhaps he might drink a little too heavily, but who was counting? I started to hope that Guy had been wrong about him and that he was one of the good guys.

It was nearly midnight when I left the place, but no matter how late the hour, I knew I had to see my mentor that night. Instead of asking the cab driver to take me back to my hotel I backed my guess about the key I’d been given. “Oaktree Motel, please” I directed, my heart in my mouth. Minutes later I alighted and, asking the man to wait, I took the key out of my purse and scanned the row of doors, looking for room 17. The object of my quest was at the very end of the walkway. The lightbulb above the door had expired some time ago and had not been replaced so it was hard to make out my surroundings. This was scary. Though the night was warm I shivered. Screwing up all my courage, I inserted the key in the lock and turned it.

There were no lights burning inside but by the dim glow from the other apartments I could see that I had entered a tiny lobby. Not knowing what was ahead of me I took a deep breath and closed the outside door behind me. Then I ventured into the unknown. Opening the door ahead of me a fraction I called “Guy?” as softly as I could. Whom would I encounter? What would I find?

The response was immediate. A switch clicked and the room was flooded with light. I blinked in the harsh glare of a solitary ceiling lamp. My colleague stood in front of me hands on hips. Relief!

“Do you have to make things so mysterious?” I protested. “I only got here by backing a hunch.”

His response was exasperating. “You’re a smart cookie. I knew you would figure it out.”

Before I could question for what possible reason our rendezvous had been left to chance, he held up his hand for silence.
“Were you followed?” Guy switched off the light and cautiously looked out of the window. “There’s a car there” he whispered.

“I expect that will be my cab” I replied in a normal voice. “I didn’t know whether to pay the driver off or ask him to wait.”

“What were you thinking? Send him away! Quickly now!” he snapped.

On my return from doing so, Guy seemed mollified. He asked me to sit and offered me a coffee. I declined the latter as the hour was so late and perched myself on one of the beds while my interlocutor sat himself opposite me.

“Okay” he began. “Tell me what happened.”

Trying hard to keep the triumph out of my voice I told him how I’d managed to meet Carson and was on friendly terms with this my primary target.

“Is that all?”

This reaction seemed hardly fair to my mind. Had I not obeyed his minimal directions to the letter? “There’s more.”

“Go on.”

“Well Carson and I were getting along fine. He kept drinking and offering me more drinks, but I managed to refuse most of them without offending him. Then there was an interruption. A man with a shock of white hair appeared from a doorway at the back of the bar. He was well-built and acted like he owned the place. I found out later that he does… own the place. He swaggered over to where Carson and I were sitting and greeted my drinking partner who seemed really ill at ease at being addressed so familiarly.

He then made some remark about me being ‘something new’ and referred to me as a ‘little tease’. Can you believe his nerve? He ribbed Carson about me being too young for him saying something like ‘underage again’ in a stage whisper. Though he was acting as if he disapproved, I could tell he wasn’t actually shocked or anything. He was just twisting his victim’s tail. That’s how it seemed. Carson made no protest but behaved as if he was being controlled somehow.”

I continued. “Anyway, this white-haired heel just laughed at him and told him he’d better introduce us.”

Guy was listening attentively now. “Go on” he repeated.

“Well, Carson mumbled an introduction of sorts, quite unwillingly. He told him my name, and said the other man was called Nick, Nick Saunders. This Saunders man said that that was no way to introduce anyone. He came over all gallant and kissed my hand. I didn’t mean to encourage him but I sort of smiled, out of politeness. Next moment, I was in his arms, and it was a real bear hug. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his hand sort of slipped down to my butt and pressed me against him. It felt… Eww!”

“Come on! I can see you were enjoying yourself?” Guy looked amused.

“Seriously, it was horrid!” I protested. I felt nettled that the man hadn’t given full credit to my story. While it actually was true that the experience was quite pleasurable, I wasn’t going to own that sensation. How was he to know what I had been feeling?

“I’ll believe you” he smirked. My companion’s lack of sympathy was palpable.

I glared at the man. What did he take me for? Admittedly, I didn’t usually mind being grappled to the muscular torso of a very handsome man all that much. Not if he smelled good and was impeccably dressed, and this fellow was a real dish. What was not to like? As it happened, however, on this occasion I’d offered some resistance. I’d been anxious to retain some kind of control over events.

“Tell me the rest.”

I sniffed haughtily and went on. “Well, Carson could see I didn’t like being pawed like that because he tried to intervene, if only half-heartedly. But Nick just brushed his protest aside and told him to get lost. He obeyed like it was a command from on high and shuffled away to the other end of the counter, without another word. I was quite dismayed at being left to defend my honour as best I could.”

Guy broke in upon my thoughts, unsympathetically. “This is all very intriguing, but it isn’t getting us very far.”

“Wait! I haven’t got to the best part, yet.”

“Well…”

“As Carson walked away, this Saunders said something to him under his breath. It sounded like ‘make sure you bring the stuff tomorrow’. Then out loud, ‘you know what will happen, if you don’t’.”

I paused for dramatic effect. My mentor looked impressed, in spite of his earlier scepticism. Triumphantly, I topped my success with a final surmise. “What if…, what if this Nick were the Grey Falcon that your agent referred to. He had a head of white hair. Too close to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

Guy remained unconvinced. “Possibly. I guess it’s possible. Anyway, in either case, you’ve done really well. I knew you would be good at this.”
His face broke into a smile, which gave me a real thrill. I started to think I might be cut out for this work. Me! Agent J, a secret investigator!
“So, what now?”

“I’ll have this Saunders checked out. If you’re right about his involvement, we need to know what is going on behind the scenes at that Continental joint. For starters you will have to go there again tomorrow and think of a way of getting a look around the back room that Saunders came out of.”

He hesitated as if for dramatic effect. “Now, pay close attention. Getting in may be easy but leaving again may be harder. Here’s something that may help if things get out of hand.”

Here, I expected my control to pass me some means of protection which I would have to strap to my thigh underneath my skirts, a dagger perhaps, or a small revolver. Wow! This was getting exciting. Instead, Guy handed me a tiny packet. “This phial contains a powerful narcotic.” He took out a flat plastic disc and demonstrated by rotating it so that a short needle was exposed. “A quick jab and a squeeze, and they’ll be out for hours. Only use it if you have to, however.”

I was impressed!

“And now, it’s bed for you!”

What?! My mind was going about 100 miles per hour and my consternation clearly showed in my face. Guy grinned. “Not here, of course! Sorry if I disappoint you but I reckon you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

My face flushed scarlet. Of course I wasn’t desirous of… well, what he seemed to be implying. Unaccountably, however, my feathers were ruffled. In reality, half of me had been expecting the handsome man to make a pass at me all though our interview, and now I felt as if I was being dismissed like a child. After all, a girl has her pride!

“I’ve a spare car here that you can drive back to your hotel. Hang on to it. When you are done with it you can leave it in the garage there and I’ll have it collected.”

Now this sounded better; more in keeping with the special equipment Agent J would need for her mission! My imagination started to run apace, picturing something long, sleek and black, adorned with CD plates; or perhaps a low-slung muscle car packed with hidden gadgetry.

My fantasy was short-lived. Instead of a shining limousine worthy of an undercover agent, the car which was drawn up outside proved to be of far humbler style. Known derisively as a European compact, its colour was a mundane olive drab. So much for my fancy ideas of the glamourous world of espionage. I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice as I thanked my benefactor.

On top of this let down, Guy’s parting shot jarred my fraught sensibilities. “Your dress is nice, very nice. What’s needed is something more than nice, or less. Next time you might want to wear something with a little more oomph.”

Whatever!

The following morning, I set off in my borrowed vehicle bright and early to drive to the studio. As might only be expected this far south, it was going to be another hot day. Despite that, I was too pre-occupied to pay much attention to the weather, nor to the deficiencies of the automobile I was driving, which had proved to be a very basic model. The questions which were chasing each other around in my brain were, how could I gain access to the secrets hidden within the walls of the Continental and… what ought I wear for the attempt?

On the second, and as any girly girl would agree, the more pressing of these two conundrums, I knew that my choice of attire would be limited to one of the frocks I had already worn in the photo sessions completed so far. Nothing with the required kind of oomph came to mind. Perhaps something from today’s impending shoot would fit the bill. I concluded that I needed to be on my best behaviour today and be blessed with a large slice of luck if I were to retain the good will of Madame and induce her to lend me another dress. Occupied as my thoughts were by this riddle, it is unsurprising perhaps that I had gotten no nearer to the solution of the other puzzle by the time I turned the car into the parking lot behind the studio. No plan for the evening had arisen in my mind.

The first sight that met my eyes on entering the studio was the substantial figure of Maurice. His ever-present smile broadened as he caught sight of me. That was nice, though I could have done without his gaze running over my entire body from head to toe quite so obviously.

“What are you doing here?” I queried.

“Now, that’s not friendly!” he joked taking the opportunity to fold me in a lingering hug.

“Oh, you know what I meant” I exclaimed, disentangling myself as quickly as I could. It was much too early in the day to be pawed like that. To regain my equanimity, I spent the next moments making a parade of straightening my clothing.

“Apart from taking an interest in your welfare, young lady, I have a pressing motive. Today you will be modelling a range of cocktail wear from one of my own clients. Very stylish, very chic!”

His words were music to my ears. Perhaps I would be able to borrow a dress with a décolleté suitably daring to meet Agent J’s latest requirements. At the close of the session, I screwed up my courage and made my request. With a decided shake of her head, Madame Blanche declined, as indeed I had feared she might.

“I brought the other one back completely okay” I pleaded, but to no avail.

“It’s against our rules and though I did make an exception before, that occasion has to have been a one-off. I can’t make a habit of it.”

I hung my head despondently. I had no backup plan, but it transpired that my conversation with Madame had been overheard. I was about to return to the changing room when Maurice buttonholed me.

“Why do you want the lend of an evening dress?”

His curiosity was forgivable, but I had to think on my feet to come up with a plausible answer. “Oh, there’s a cocktail party I’ve been invited to. It’s with people connected with my college. I ought to go but I’ve nothing to wear, so I shall have to decline.”

“Stop a moment. I may be able to help you there.”

“Really? It’s nice of you but I don’t see…”

“You want to borrow one of the dresses you modelled today, right. Well, I represent the supplier. You shall go to the ball!”

“Oh, Maurice” I gushed. “Thank you so much.”

I had to check an impulse to rush over and hug the portly man. Given my settled aversion to him it wasn’t that difficult.

“Well” he chortled. “We’re such good friends, aren’t we? And one good turn deserves another.”

Oh dear! It sounded as if I was going to have to be especially nice to Maurice. What might that entail? Ughh! I shuddered inwardly, but no matter. My country’s need came first!

Dismissing all negative thoughts, I began my search, knowing I was allowed to choose whatever pleased me. So far so good.

What I needed to find was something far raunchier than anything I would normally have in my wardrobe. Disappointingly, there had been nothing of that nature included in the shoot, but occupying the same rail as Maurice’s client’s collection, presumably from another photo session, had been some more exotic items of clothing. Among some scanty pieces of lingerie there hung a little frock in a glittery material. It caught my eye as perhaps the very thing.

Accordingly, when I selected as possibles a couple of Maurice’s dresses hanging next to it, I somehow managed to retrieve that one as well. With it wrapped in the folds of the other two, I retired to the changing area with my bundle, congratulating myself on my sleight of hand.

The ill-gotten fruits of my guile turned out to be a strappy little dress which featured a revealing sweetheart neckline, which could be made just decent by the addition of a sheer bolero-style shrug. The dress was very skimpy but the material was stretchy so I found I could squeeze myself into it without too much trouble.

Checking in the mirror, it would have been an understatement of the first magnitude to say that my image was eye-catching. The skirt was well above my knee, very short for those days before the mini skirt had hit the fashion scene. Furthermore, the tightness of the fabric emphasised how well my boobs and butt had developed over the preceding years. The impact of the former could be lessened by covering up with the gauzy shrug, but the overall effect of the ensemble remained electrifying.

I tried removing the shrug and stared at my reflection again. Stunning! I was unsure whether I had the nerve to carry off such a look as this. I reminded myself that Guy had criticised my earlier appearance as too demure. Well, my new outfit definitely could not be termed ‘nice’! One of my problems might just have been solved.

I revolved slowly before the glass, lost in thought, trying to imagine what was to take place at the club that evening. It was fruitless. There were too many unknowns ahead of me and I would just have to play it by ear, yet again. I had just reached that unsatisfactory conclusion and decided that there was no point in cudgelling my brains any further when my reverie was interrupted.

“You can’t dress like that! There’s gotta be a law!” Maurice’s jocund voice abruptly broke in upon my consciousness. He had entered unheralded, once again.

Starting at the sound I backed away, warily. I half-expected him to make his usual move towards me and the last thing I wanted was to be manhandled in my half-clad condition. Fortunately, the unwelcoming expression on my face served as a sufficient deterrent. The fellow raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Maurice!” I reproved. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Sorry, but you’ve been in here ages” he excused. “What in heaven are you wearing? I thought you were going to borrow one of my client’s dresses.”

With an effort I recovered my poise. I adopted a matter-of-fact tone. “Oh, this one somehow got muddled up with the others and I just had to try it. Actually, you’re right. This dress is quite unwearable."

“Quite!” he agreed.

"Did you want something?”

“My dear, I have a favour to ask. I was hoping that you might get me an invitation to tonight’s party. As it happens, I’m free all evening.”

I resorted to a well-worn feminine device. “Sadly, I’ve decided to give it a miss. I can tell I’ve a headache coming on, a bad one. Thanks for the offer of the clothes, all the same.”

I grabbed the door and firmly hustled the man out of the room. “I need to change back now, if you will excuse me. Thanks.”

He allowed me to shepherd him out like a lamb, while I silently congratulated myself on my resourcefulness. To smuggle the ‘borrowed’ dress out, I put on my own clothes over the top of it, resolving to return the thing surreptitiously on my next visit. I left the studio feeling smug. My encounter with my over-inquisitive admirer had had an unexpected benefit. It had provided sufficient confirmation that I was certain to be the centre of attention!

My preparations for the coming evening were made with meticulous care and once complete, my mind revolved over my main problem. I had no clue what I was aiming to achieve. Ad-libbing my way through would require me to be ready for anything and while I would like to have believed that I was, actually I felt more than usual like the dippy featherbrain which most folks deemed me to be. Trying to count my blessings, one thing in my favour was that I need not be constrained as to time. There was no photoshoot the following day and so I could stay at the club as late as I wanted. That was the only plus that I could see.

Somewhat self-conscious in my immodest attire I arrived at the bar quite early. I positioned myself at the end of the counter nearest the fateful door which led to that back room, a place of mystery whose secrets I intended to lay bare. The hostess I’d chatted to the previous night came over to me straightaway. Answering to the name Irene, she greeted me as her long-lost bosom-buddy and before long we were deep in conversation. Within twenty minutes I was privy to the intimate details of her love life, which was complex and extensive. It was also generally sad. All her affairs had apparently ended unhappily. Impulsively I reached across the counter and took her hand. Our eyes met, and I could tell we had clicked. A new friend.

The girl cut an interestingly tragic figure and had lots to tell. Had I been about to base a novel on her life-story, the subject matter would have filled several volumes. I really felt for her, but also I had an ulterior motive for listening. The role of confidante provided me with the perfect post of observation of the whole room and I took full advantage. Customers came and customers went, mostly unaccompanied men. I guessed that the majority were seeking the sort of female companionship that the gaggle of floosies at the other end of the bar could provide. In passing, one or two showed an interest in myself and even made to start up a conversation, but I was able to avoid making any new conquests. I merely broke off the absorbing tête-à-tête in which Irene and I were engaged momentarily to deliver a cursory smile before returning all my attentiveness to her.

Following the ins and outs of Irene’s history was mentally quite taxing and more than once I felt my eyes beginning to glaze over. My attention was completely diverted when Carson made his appearance. He seated himself at the other end of the counter and began chatting to the other waitress and her satellites. The guy was dressed in a business suit as if he had just left his place of work, which I guessed he probably had. I noted that he had brought with him a slim valise which never left his side. I turned my barstool so that while engaged in conversation with my troubled friend, the edge of my field of vision included him. Congratulating myself on my arrangement I reckoned I had hit on the ideal way of keeping track of any developments without appearing to do so.

Later in the evening Nick briefly appeared from his lair but then retreated there again. He didn’t take any notice my presence. I tried to catch his eye as he passed me, to no avail. So much for my daring décolleté and revealing skirt! I tried to stop myself from glancing at that enigmatic door too often but in the end Irene noticed what I was about and broke off from recounting the demerits of her last lover but two to question me.

“Interested in darling Nick, are we?” she murmured slyly. “I don’t blame you, honey. He’s quite an eyeful!”

I hazarded a guess. “Am I right to wonder whether you have history there?”

Irene responded with an arch look.

“Go on. Tell me!” I pressed her.

Her next words confirmed my surmise. Nick had been her last ex but one! Although there was no-one within earshot at the time, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I was so glad to be out of that relationship. If you are really intent on making a catch you can expect to find that there’s not too much substance when you land it. All blow and no go, if you get my meaning!”

I didn’t have to pretend to look shocked at this revelation.

“Course, if you want a pearl necklace, you can get one of those in seconds flat!”

“You… you don’t say!” I tried, unsuccessfully to expunge the image conjured by these words from my brain.

“I’m serious. But if you don’t mind that, I can give you some insider information. Trust me!”

I trusted her, sort of, but caution was still the watchword. I chanced a small revelation. “I am interested.”

She nodded in triumph. “I guessed as much!”

“Actually, I have an ulterior motive for wanting to know him. I need to get something from him, besides that hunky body, but he mustn’t know. What it is doesn’t belong to him. I can’t say more.”

Irene stared at me for a moment saucer-eyed, before seemingly making her mind up. Then “You’re a strange one, but I’m your girl. I’d do anything to score off that useless two-timing skunk. If I didn’t need this job, I’d have done it long ago.”

At this point my attention was caught by Carson. He disentangled himself from the young woman who had been draping herself across his body and walked over to the all-important door and entered. Five minutes or so later he re-emerged still carrying his valise which appeared to be just as bulky as before. The contents had apparently not been left with Nick, therefore, or not all of them.

“Sorry” I addressed Irene again “but I need to make a move in Nick’s direction. I’m not from around here and I’m running short of time.”

“You have got it bad. So… what do you want from me?”

“Well… ideally, I need to get Nick on his own, somewhere quieter than here.” I gestured toward the busy barroom which had been filling up as the night progressed.

“That’s no problem. Let me show you something.”

She led the way across the bar, away from where Carson and the group of girls were chattering, to an arched alcove screened by a baize curtain. I hadn’t noticed what a trim figure my new friend had but couldn’t fail to do so now. The graceful sway of her hips, accentuated by her tight black dress, was mesmeric. I found it hard not to focus on their movement and when she paused in the archway and turned, the knowing glint in her eye hinted at an awareness of what had been passing though my thoughts. Drawing the drape aside revealed a felt-lined door and she ushered me inside. “We reserve this for our most exclusive clientele” she grinned. “It’s our salon for rest and relaxation.”

The interior décor was plush, with heavy velvet curtains dividing the space into a series of booths, each of which was labelled with a number in ornate script. All sound seemed to be muffled in that space. From a table by the door, the girl selected a token adorned with the number 5.

“This is the most discreet one, in my view.” She spoke softly. “It would normally cost plenty but as it’s all in a good cause…” she handed it to me with a meaning smile. “Come.” She took my hand and led me to the farthest end of the room where she held the curtain of the booth aside for me to enter. Before me was a couch festooned with drapes and cushions. “Try this one for size.”

I went over and seated myself gingerly among the cushions.

Irene grinned mischievously. “No! That’s no good. Own the thing! Take off that shrug and recline. Go on. Luxuriate!”

I obeyed, to be greeted with suppressed giggle. “Seductive! You know, I could fancy you myself, seeing you like that. Nick won’t stand a chance”

For an instant her face clouded. “That’s odd. I’ve never been turned on by another girl, but somehow, it’s different with you.” She shook herself as if to get rid of an unwelcome thought, then laughed again. “Why am I telling you all this?”

I didn’t know how to reply to defuse the tension in the air. I found myself colouring up. The truth was I found myself reciprocating the attraction. That would not do. I was a married… person, for heaven’s sake! I tried hard to think of Rachel, with some success. Self-consciously putting my little shrug back on, I got up to leave.

Irene drew the curtain shut behind us, gave me her sly smile again and walked ahead of me back to the barroom. Was it my imagination or was the wiggle of those curvy hips of hers more pronounced? It was hard to focus on anything else. Back at the bar the girl gestured to the back room. “Go on. Do it now! As he’s in the office, the door will not be locked. It’s a no-go area the rest of the time, like Fort Knox! Off you go. No time like the present.”

So encouraged, I drew a deep breath and with a parting “Wish me luck” went over to the mysterious doorway and entered. I found myself in a small lobby. There was a door to my right and one straight ahead. On consideration I rejected the former. Although uncertain of the layout of the building I guessed that it led in the general direction of the ‘rest and relaxation’ suite I had just left. The other door was marked ‘Private’. That must be the office, I guessed. Fixing a smile across my features I grasped the handle, turned it and went in.

I’m unsure what I was expecting but once inside I was met with the sight of a very ordinary looking place of business. The object of my quest had his back to me and was part-way through covering over some large freestanding object with a cloth. Hearing me enter, Nick turned and greeted me with a look of annoyance. “What the blazes…?” he exclaimed angrily.

“So, this is where you’re hiding” I cried, in my most inviting tones. “Bad boy! You’ve been ignoring me all evening.”

I ran over and threw my arms around him pressing my body against his muscled torso. I turned my face up to his and pouted. “Oh, Nick! Haven’t you any time for little Jennifer tonight?”

At first the man was unbending. “This is a private room” he admonished severely. “You shouldn’t be in here!”

“Oh honey!” I pressed my bust harder against his chest and felt him relax little by little, then soften. “I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Finally, he smiled and bending his head, kissed me.

Rachel had frequently told me that I was a good kisser, and you may believe that I put my all into my efforts now. It wasn’t because I wanted to, nor because I enjoyed it, naturally, but I was prepared to do anything for my country. Okay! Don’t believe me! In a few moments I felt his hand descend onto my butt and my reaction was to press my hips against his crotch. He was getting excited, and so was I, and not a little. We didn’t bother with words. I grabbed his other hand and drug it to where he could massage my chest, which he did, and how. Time seemed to stand still.

Eventually we reached the point where I was sure one of us was about to come, though I couldn’t be sure which. With a huge effort I broke free. “Can we go somewhere a bit more… comfortable... please?”

“Er I guess… What have you in mind?” Nick’s voice sounded thick. He was shaking with emotion. My previously non-existent plan was beginning to take shape.

“Oh, I think you know.” I picked up my purse and dangled the token for booth 5 before his eyes. “I was hoping we would be able to get to know each other a lot better. Come on!”

I turned on my heel and as I did so, glanced around the room. The object Nick had been engaged in hiding caught my eye. It was like a small desk and where the top was imperfectly covered, I glimpsed part of a nameplate which bore the legend ‘….x914’. That stirred a memory. Now where had I seen that logo before?

Taking his hand, I pulled Nick out into the lobby. He paused to lock the door behind him before opening the other one. He held it for me to pass through. We now found ourselves in the ‘rest and relaxation’ suite, and it was satisfying to see that I had been correct in my geographic calculations. I led my companion to the booth and adopting my seductive pose on the couch, stretched out before him. I made sure my purse was to hand, ready for me to take out the phial of narcotic when I needed it. The prospect of my would-be lover powerless before me beckoned. I gave the man what I hoped was an inviting smile. I was ready. First, however, there was an interruption.

“I need another drink. What will you have?” Nick had the self-satisfied air of a man who was about to accomplish at least one of his desires. It was as if he was savouring the moment.

Impatient at the delay I asked for a martini.

“Back in two ticks!”

While he was gone, I reviewed my plan. It seemed flawless. Once my victim was unconscious, it would be simple to relieve him of his keys and then the secrets of the office would be at my mercy. Success seemed inevitable! It would be hard not to gloat when I met up with Guy again.

The minutes ticked by. It seemed to be taking longer than I imagined to get those drinks. I tried to curb my eagerness. Finally, Nick reappeared bearing a tray with not only drinks but other goodies too; a bowl of bonbons and a vase with red roses. “Now, we have everything we need” he grinned triumphantly.

“Oh yes, darling. Perfect!” I enthused.

Placing his tray on a side-table he seated himself next to me and took hold of my hands. His grip was strong, not that I needed to escape, of course. The curtain beside me appeared to move a little. A draught of air, possibly?

Nick’s grip tightened even more.

“Ow! You’re hurting me” I complained.

“Now!” exclaimed my companion and a hand appeared through the drapes, the skin wrinkled by age. It clutched a cloth which gave off a pungent odour. An instant later this was pressed to my face, covering my nose and mouth.

“Noo…” I protested, but my voice was muffled. I tried to hold my breath, to no avail.

Held still in my would-be lover’s grasp, I was helpless to resist. As soon as I’d inhaled whatever substance the rag was soaked in, the room began to swirl. My blood pounded in my ears. Everything went black!

I knew no more.

Precious Time - Part 3

What period elapsed before I began to surface is hard to say. I lay in a half-waking state for aeons, it seemed. My eyelids were so heavy I couldn’t open them no matter how hard I tried and my limbs seemed leaden as I drifted in and out of consciousness. What caught my notice first were voices. Voices arguing. The sound was muffled, and I couldn’t make out the words at first but presently, I could tell that one belonged to Nick, expostulating with his companion. The other was softer, a woman’s voice, an older woman. Eventually I could make out what they were saying too.

“I say no!” She spoke harshly.

“And I say we should get rid of her. Yesterday she didn’t want to know and tonight she was all over me. She knows too much.” The man sounded angry but there was also a note of fear in his tone. “You can leave it to me, just the same as I did for Waters. Quick and easy.”

“For God’s sake put that knife away, you fool. You can’t get away with it time and again. Anyway, it isn’t for you to decide. The whole of the network may be uncovered. We must find out what she knows. A day or two with Mikhail will loosen her tongue and will also serve to prepare her for her future. To dispose of her, once she is safely across the border, she can be submerged in that sea of lost humanity for good. Just leave the girl to me!”

The woman seemed to have won the debate. Her voice reminded me of someone I’d heard recently, but the sound was distorted, and I couldn’t work out whom. It didn’t seem to matter. Silence fell. Idly wondering who the girl they had been referring to might be, I drifted into oblivion again. How long this condition lasted, I cannot tell.

The sun was high when I woke fully. I found that I was stretched out on a couch. My head was fuzzy, and I felt slightly nauseous. I tried to sit up and at the second attempt managed to do so, to find myself in a strange room. Its walls were roughly rendered in a dingy shade of cream and high up in one of them was a barred window of obscured glass that gave a glimpse of the sky far above. This must be some kind of basement, I concluded.

Eventually a measured footfall approaching as from a distance broke the stillness. The noise roused me. A key rattled in the lock of the door, and bolts were drawn back. When it opened the person who entered was female, old and garbed in black. She was heavily veiled, a sepulchral figure. When she addressed me, her voice was harsh, contorted with anger.

Pointing a finger in admonition she began to scold. “Foolish child!” she screeched. “What induced you to meddle in things that don’t concern you? Stupid, stupid girl! You have no realisation of what you have been about, but now it is too late. There is no retreat. You have left us no choice but to find a way to deal with you.”

I hung my head, too heavy to raise. What the creature was telling me made no kind of sense.

“Look at your dress!” she barked. “Shameless girl! You choose to remain ignorant of the new order that is coming, that will change mankind. Typical of the decadent society you come from, instead of harnessing your talents to serve a world worthy of heroes, you dissipate your energies on the vain pursuit of so-called beauty. Careless of the consequences, you have interfered in matters far beyond your ken. What to do with you!”

My mind seemed detached from reality. I observed that the hair beneath the veil was grey and an idle thought flashed though my head. This must be the mysterious Grey Falcon.

The woman fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again it was as if judgement had been passed, the voice of doom!
“Think yourself lucky that your life is not yet forfeit. You have dressed yourself like a courtesan and soon you shall experience the life of one. After a period of preparation, your scandalous body will be given over to be the provider of physical pleasure. It is all you are fit for. Mikhail will instruct you in your duties. Some time with him will make certain you are ready for the fate you have yourself chosen. First you will tell him everything. Before long you will wish for more to tell him. Enough!”

With surprising speed, the woman extracted a bottle from her purse together with a rag. She soaked the latter with the contents and clapped it over my face. I was in no condition to resist her and that pungent smell engulfed me again. There was a roaring sound in my ears and I tumbled headlong into darkness once more.

Next time I awoke, I could see by the lengthening shadows that afternoon was turning into evening. I was laid on the same couch, in the same basement room. Now however I was dressed differently. I seemed to be wreathed in some kind of gauzy blue cloth. Where were my own clothes? What had happened to me?

Sitting up I could see my purse upon a side-table in the corner. It was next to a carafe of water. I rose and gingerly stepped over to it and helped myself to a glass. Drinking it down made me feel somewhat better and I poured myself another. What chiefly occupied my thoughts was, what was I wearing? There was a tall mirror leaning against one wall. I traipsed over to it and was greeted with a vision so jaw-droppingly bizarre I literally did a second take!

The dress or nightgown or whatever it was I was robed in was made of a shimmering turquoise voile. The front was split down to the navel and there were also dramatic splits from waist to toe on either side. The garment only just covered where it needed to, leaving little to the imagination. My only other nod to modesty was a pair of high cut panties in the same sheer fabric. How had I come to be got up like this? There was only one purpose for which I could be so attired. Seduction!

Not a vestige of my own things remained, apart from the high-heeled sandals I had put on the previous evening. Whoever had undressed me had been thorough, violating my privacy. Most worryingly, the flimsy covering of my private area now revealed a tell-tale bulge. The person or persons who had changed me out of my clothes had also removed the strips of surgical tape with which I tucked away my diminutive male attributes. The full enormity of that action hit me along with its potential consequences. My jealously guarded secret must be out!

While I gazed in dismay at the sultry vision in the glass before me, a predictable but unwanted reaction started to take place. A tingling down was accompanied by an increasing pressure on my little member as it strove against the tight panties which attempted to constrict it. Oh no! I was being turned on by the sight of myself in a mirror. How humiliating!

The realisation had just taken full hold when I heard a footfall in the corridor which led to my prison. This time it was a light clatter of heels. Unsurprisingly the figure of a young woman was revealed when the door opened. Irene!

“Are you okay? You’ve had me so worried; I can’t tell you.” The girl ran over and enveloped me in a warm embrace. In return I clung to her as if my life depended on it. Perhaps it did! Being partly clothed and pressed against a soft curvaceous body such as hers did nothing for my peace of mind, however. Embarrassingly, my private area was responding in the only way it might be expected to. A full-blown erection took hold down there which I was powerless to check.

To make my consternation worse, Irene noticed. She drew her head back and gazed into my eyes. “Jennifer, you like me!” she exclaimed. “And is it Jennifer? I’m not so sure anymore. It was I that undressed you.”

I blushed scarlet. “Why would you do that? And was it you who untaped me too?”

She laughed at my confusion. “My aunt told me to get you changed and then I was plain curious. I haven’t told her what I found, but it explains why I’ve been so attracted to you. I was beginning to think I might be going ‘that way’, you know, but I know better now. What exactly are you? How did you come to be... how you are?”

She led me back to the couch and seating herself beside me, took my hands.

“I wouldn’t normally be so direct as this, but we may be interrupted, so I need to be quick. I have to admit, I am very attracted to you, and… I can see that you are to me.”

It was pointless my denying her assertion. The evidence was right before her eyes! Instead, I crossed my legs and tried to answer her by encapsulating my life history into a few short sentences.

“It’s like this…” I explained how I had been born a boy, but that my mother had had other ideas and I’d was made to dress like a girl and fed full of hormones until I was neither one nor the other. “I guess I’m now more like a female” I concluded, “and I actually prefer being that gender these days.”

“You like men?” Irene’s face had fallen.

“It’s complicated. My body does – all those hormones, I guess. My head is still more interested in girls, though.”

At these words she visibly brightened.

To change the subject, I tried to be matter of fact. “Hand me my purse, please.”

She gave it me.

“Turn your back.”

When she had obliged, I extracted my roll of tape and tore off three strips of the stuff. Glancing at her to make sure I was unobserved I pulled down my nether garment and applied the shorter piece across, then the others on either side, front to back. When all was securely tucked away, I pulled up my panties and checked in the glass to make sure I had a nicely flat front. Satisfied on that score, I raised my eyes to see my companion’s face grinning at me. Irene had seen everything in the mirror.

“So that’s how you do it” she smirked. “It’s good to know that you aren’t so inaccessible, if I have any… needs!”

Our eyes met, and next moment I found myself in a clinch again. Seconds ticked slowly by until we broke apart. This was wrong. I needed to tell her about Rachel and fast.

“There’s more…” I wanted to explain about the wife who was waiting back home for my return, but Irene held her hand up for silence, listened intently.

“I thought I heard…” she started. “The woman that saw you earlier, what did she say was to happen to you?”

“She told me that I’d be given over to Mikhail, whoever he is, and then shipped off somewhere. It sounded bad. Who is he?”

“He’s an animal.” She shivered. “You don’t want to have anything to do with him, if you can help it.”

This wasn’t encouraging. Would I be given any choice in the matter?

“If… when he discovers… what… how you are, it can’t end well.” Irene looked even more worried at the thought.

Despite the desperate outlook, however, I really needed to put Irene in the picture about my domestic situation. “There’s more to tell.” I started again but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door.

Irene quickly pushed me onto the couch and stood over me, just before the door swung open. This time the figure that entered was that of a burly man of sinister mien. His hair was a steely shade and unkempt. He swaggered across and halted before me, seeming to fill the entire room. This must be Mikhail. A second man hovered behind him in the doorway. Nick!

Mikhail stretched out a massive hand and seized my chin. He lifted my face so my eyes met his. “So, this is she?” He asked of Irene. “A pretty enough little meddler! I see the girl is ready for me” he gloated. “You have excelled yourself. She is well prepared. Now. Let’s get going, you!”

This last to me, accompanied by an upward tug of his hand on my throat, none too gentle.

Summoning up what strength I had, I somehow got to my feet and stood there, swaying slightly. “What if I refuse?” I gasped with as much defiance as I could muster.

The man laughed derisively and bending down, grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me unceremoniously over his shoulder. Angrily I wriggled to get free, kicking my legs against him. This was greeted by a couple of sharp slaps upon my vulnerable behind. Stuck up in the air as it was my butt no doubt offered a tempting target, and the blows hurt sufficiently to put an end to any immediate thought of resistance.

Mikhail turned and marched purposefully towards the door.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” cried the Irene, anger and anxiety in her voice.

The man halted briefly but snarled with a snarled “What do you care?”

The girl ran across to me. Putting her head close to mine, she mouthed “I’ll think of something.”

Yes, but what? Rescue seemed a remote possibility.

A thought flashed through my head. “My purse” I gasped, hoping the girl would understand.

Mikhail resumed his progress out of the door, carrying me across a paved yard to where a car was parked. The other man had preceded him and opened the lid of the trunk, I guessed to allow his crony to deposit his human burden inside.

Irene intervened. “No” protested my guardian angel. “How dare you think of putting her in there, you brutes? Do you know how much time it has taken me to get her dressed up like this and you’re about to ruin it. She will sit in back and I’ll ride beside her. She won’t escape.”

Nick’s voice broke in. “I don’t like it.”

Irene was firm, however. “My aunt will be most displeased if you snag that delicate gown. It was costly and she will probably make you pay for it.”

“Well, what is it to be?” Mikhail bent and stood me on my feet.

I wobbled but Irene took hold of me and helped me stand upright. “Open the rear door” she commanded.

Sheepishly the man obeyed and next moment I was inside. The girl pushed herself in next to me. “Move over!” she told me. “I’m not about to sit in your lap.”

She paused, smiling “Then again…”

I hutched myself across to the other seat. “Irene! How can you? This isn’t funny.”

She put her arm around me and whispered. “It’s just for show. I’m trying to think. Really, I am.”

The car set off, Nick in the driver’s seat, and his companion next to him. Mikhail kept glancing over his shoulder to check on us at first, but as the journey continued, he evidently relaxed and faced forward. I sensed an opportunity. Silently I took my purse from Irene and opened it. I removed the flat disc Guy had given me; it seemed so long ago. I turned the thing, to show her how the needle was then exposed. I mimed squeezing it. Her eyes met mine and our gazes locked. I replaced the device, hoping that she understood its purpose.

After what seemed an eternity, the car drew to a halt. We were well outside the city limits and had been following a narrow track for a mile or more through a wooded valley. The building we halted before was large and rambling. The ramshackle place was clearly remote from any other habitation. A huddle of low roofs of different pitches and elevations suggested that it had grown over a number of years, like Topsy. An imposing entrance porch dominated and over it a neon sign gave the intelligence that the place was a country club of sorts.

We alighted and Mikhail made as if to lift me up again.

I backed away. “I can walk!”

“Okay. Let’s see you.” he growled suspiciously. His heavy hand upon my shoulder steered me towards a side door, with Irene following closely.

“Where do you think you’re headed” Nick demanded of the girl.

“I’m going to see she’s all right” protested my new friend.

“Don’t be long” he admonished her. “We have to get back to the bar. It opens in an hour, don’t forget.”

He himself apparently had a different agenda. Addressing the other man, “In the meantime, I could use a drink” he told him. “See you later!” and turning abruptly he headed for the main entrance.

The side door gave entry into a long windowless passage, thickly carpeted. We passed several doorways each bearing a number in an ornate script. At the end the corridor turned at right angles. We passed through double doors and came to a heavy curtain. It concealed a panelled door, more substantial than the others and through this Mikhail led us. The door closed behind us with a muffled thud.

The room was plushly furnished in a shade of coral pink. An ornate bedstead dominated the chamber, giving small doubt as to the room’s intended purposes. It was not difficult to guess the nature of the establishment to which I had been conveyed. I surveyed my surroundings, anxiously seeking some means of escape, but nothing presented itself in that light.

Warily I looked at my new companion. A heavy figure, with an ill-favoured countenance, he looked the kind of individual I would instinctively avoid at the best of times. I stood before him waited for him to make the next move. Irene remained by the door.

“You can leave now” the man growled at her “unless, of course, you want to join in. I like a threesome.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’ll watch.”

A leering grin occupied Mikhail’s features as she declared this. He turned to me. “Now, don’t you look a treat. We’re going to be here for a day or two and we will get to know each other very well in that time. Very well indeed. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself, if you play along, that is.”

A meaning glance from Irene told me I had to seize the initiative. I tried to assume a confidence I did not feel. “Oh, believe me, I’m hoping so.”
I tried to put on a sultry expression. “I like strong men like you, the bigger the better. I’m not as innocent as I appear. I know a few moves you might like, if you let me try them.”

“Such as what?” snarled Mikhail, fiercely. “Don’t you play any tricks now, miss, or you’ll have reason to regret it.”

“No tricks” I smiled, as brightly as I could. “But perhaps we ought to have a little music. It will help us all relax.” I’d noticed the radio in a cabinet against one wall. Taking care to accentuate the wiggle in my hips, I walked across and turned it on, while the man watched me distrustfully. I turned the dial until I came across a station playing Latin music, easy enough to find this far south. That ought to serve.

I picked up the skirts of my gown and began to waft them about me. “Don’t you adore the way this material shimmers when it moves. So pretty!” I cried. “It makes me feel like dancing. Sit down and watch. I’m a very good dancer, if I say so myself.”

I could see Mikhail mulling over my words while lust flickered behind those deep-set eyes. He hadn’t rejected my suggestion out of hand, giving me the beginnings of hope. Gently at first, I started to move in time to the music. I think they were playing something called a marimba. Anyway, the Latin rhythm made it easy for me to gyrate seductively. I moved from one immodest pose to another, my clothing’s shortcomings assisting me in that regard. The brute of a man grinned and sat himself on the bed to ogle me unashamedly. I had his full attention, that was for sure.

As the intensity of the melody rose and fell, I moved closer to him then further away, parading my bodily attributes before his eyes. When it rose in a crescendo, I approached more closely, putting my hands on his shoulders and wiggling my hips as sensually as I knew how in front of his face. My breasts rose and fell inches from his eyes.

“You little tease” Mikhail smirked.

“You’re liking this” I exclaimed, forcing a giggle. It rang completely false in my ears but it served my purpose, which was to cover the sound as, behind him, Irene extracted the narcotic disc from my purse. Taking my cue, I clapped my hands each side of his head and pressed his face into my bosom, while, at the same instant my accomplice stuck the needle into his neck and squeezed.

What would the effect be? Time seemed to stand still as I pulled back to see. Instantly, Mikhail’s eyes began to glaze over. I sprang back before he could grab me and as I did so, he keeled over and fell back upon the bed, dead to the world.

“Aah! Thank the stars!” I cried. My relief was palpable!

“Phew! What’s in that thing?” exclaimed Irene.

“I have no idea!” I cried.

“Whatever it is, we’re in for it now” she concluded. “Let’s get going. Get his keys!”

It was the work of a moment to relieve the prostrate man of them. Irene grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the door. There was a delay while I searched for the right key, Irene visibly seething with impatience. After three vain attempts the door was securely locked behind us and we were running silently down the corridor to the exterior door.

When we reached it, Irene stopped us dead. She raised a finger to her lips and motioning me to remain, cautiously stepped outside. I peered anxiously through the crack as my partner in crime calmly walked over to where Nick’s car was parked. Cautiously she tried the lid of the trunk. It wasn’t locked. After a circumspect scan around her, the girl beckoned me to make haste across to her. I was unsure of her intention, but I had no alternative plan. In any case she seemed to be revelling in our adventure, while I fell into line and hoped for the best.

“Quickly! Get in!” Irene directed, opening the trunk wide.

“Really?” I questioned.

“Yes, yes!” she urged. “Don’t make a sound. I’ll go and fetch Nick. Hopefully I can disentangle him from whatever female he might be paying his attentions to before Mikhail comes around.”

I obeyed. The lid was shut with an air of finality that oppressed me. The darkness and discomfort were unpleasant, but the feeling of complete isolation was harder to bear. Fortunately, the tiniest chink of light found its way through where the lid fitted badly and prevented my being in total darkness. I clung to that glimmer as to a lifeline.

I seemed an age before the muffled sound of voices and footsteps announced the return of Irene and Nick. The car’s doors were opened and slammed closed, three times! Besides my expected fellow passengers, therefore, a third had joined us. I was soon enlightened as to that person’s identity. The automobile’s rear shelf was of flimsy construction with air vents either side. Through them I could hear every word that was said.

One speaker’s tones were instantly recognisable. Those of Nick.

“I tell you, this bunch of papers is the last! Their research project has been completed and this is the last. Carson is sure about that.”

“We can’t be certain?” The voice was that of the same veiled creature I’d seen before but now the woman spoke conversationally, no longer in the harsh croak she had adopted in my presence. I didn’t know how she came to be in this place but I knew for sure I’d heard her somewhere before, and recently.

“You can see for yourself. The final page summarises their findings. It’s done!” the man gloated.

“You may be right, but to be on the safe side, keep the man Carson dangling. We may need him. I’ll get this to Anton directly and central will be able to confirm whether there need be more or not. In the meantime, we must discover what the girl knows. While she is safe with Mikhail she can do us no harm. If we are compromised the whole of Grey Falcon must be dissolved while there is time to get away.”

“Irina! You are sure Mikhail knows what we expect?”

That voice! I racked my brains but couldn’t place it.

“Absolutely sure, Aunt Marta.”

Hearing that name, the penny dropped. Marta. Martha! This was in fact Martha, the sweet frail old lady I’d met on the train. I had been awfully slow. The reader will have arrived at the same conclusion long before I did, but when my rescuer said the name recognition finally dawned. My brain started working fifty to the dozen. The reference to Grey Falcon was also illuminating, not a person but a group, a network, that existed to pass on the leaked information. This Marta was key to how the papers were being conveyed. She took it in person the hundreds of miles to her son, Anton, under a perfect cover, and he in turn sent it on to Moscow.

Nick had some sort of hold over Carson and must be taking copies of the papers that were brought to him to pass on to the old lady. That way the originals would not be missed. Memory stirred again as I recalled the logo on the machine in his office which I’d seen before, ‘...x 914’. It just so happened that my college had recently taken delivery of a newfangled bit of kit called a photocopier, a Xerox 914. Why on earth would a nightspot need such an elaborate item? It clearly didn’t, but the spy ring did. Now it all made sense. I needed to get hold of Guy and fast. He desperately needed to know.

While my mind was racing at breakneck speed, the occupants of the car had fallen silent, save for a few commonplace remarks. What was to happen at journey’s end was hard to determine. Being cramped inside the trunk was none too comfortable but I wasn’t anxious to exchange my situation for a more comfortable one when we stopped. The drive seemed interminable but eventually we drew to a halt and after the old woman had taken leave of the others, she alighted.

The car drove on and after a further ten minutes came to a standstill. This time the engine was turned off and both my fellow travellers made their exit. The doors slammed shut and I waited with bated breath for what was to come, my heart pounding so loud that I thought it must be audible outside. Fortunately for me the trunk remained unopened, and footsteps could be heard receding, allowing my respiratory functions to return to normal. Silence fell.

Wondering what might happen next, I tried to lay still. This was all the harder to achieve as first I was subject to a fit of sneezing, which I managed to stifle, then I was plagued by itching sensations in one area of my body then another. Each time I yielded to the intense desire to scratch, some part of me encountered a sharp corner or projection of which I hadn’t been aware beforehand. I was beginning to despair of remaining undiscovered and about to resort to banging on the lid to request any kind of rescue when finally it opened. Blinded by the sudden advent of daylight I found myself staring into the smiling face of Irene. Thankfully she was alone.

“Comfortable?” the girl grinned.

My spirits were too low to attempt a suitable riposte and in answer all I could do was groan.

“Let’s get you out of there. Quickly now! I got away from Nick on the pretext of needing a change of clothes, but how long we’ve got before they find out about Mikhail I can’t imagine” she whispered. “I only live two blocks away so I’ll be expected back here soon. Haste is essential.”

With her assistance I managed to crawl from my hiding place and stretch my contorted limbs which had been twisted into an unnatural pose for too long. We were in the parking lot outside the Continental.

“I’ve brought you this to put on.” Irene handed me a short coat. It was an ugly shade of pink in colour and somewhat perversely I nearly succumbed to a temptation to reject the thing on that ground. It would clash horribly with my turquoise gown, for pity’s sake! In mitigation for this lapse, I can only plead that I had been under considerable stress for hours. Common sense prevailed fortunately, and I wrapped the proffered garment around me without protest. With some difficulty I tucked my billowing robe up underneath so it could no longer be seen.

“Where do we go from here?” my friend queried. For the first time she seemed less self-assured.

Though no clear plan had sprung to mind the welcome sight of a familiar vehicle close-by gave me a glimmer of inspiration. “My car!” I exclaimed with relief. “Let’s go to your place. I’ve an important telephone call to make and… could I borrow a dress? Please?”

I led the way over to that heretofore despised means of transport, searched for the key in my purse and opened the door. Another idea occurred to me, one I considered worthy of Agent J. I could change my appearance. “Keep a lookout please and give me five minutes.”

Inside the car was Mistie’s blonde wig and make-up. I sat myself in the front seat and began my toilette.

In the specified space of time all traces of Jennifer disappeared, and my modelling persona had taken her place.

Irene turned to look at me. Her reaction satisfied the cosmetic artist within me. “Jennifer! It is Jennifer. I wouldn’t have recognised you.”

“Get in, get in!” I cried, and when she had obeyed, “which way to your apartment?”

The part of town where Irene lived bordered a shabby area close to the Continental. Only a block away we turned down a narrow street where grubby kids played and men in shirt sleeves hung about. We halted half-way down the block. Minutes later we were safely inside.
Her apartment comprised two rooms above a dingy funeral parlour. Despite the unpromising externals it was spotlessly clean, and the décor was cheerful. It felt like a home.

“Can I use your phone, and could I borrow some clothes, please?” I removed my coat. “I’m too conspicuous dressed like this.”

I made the call and while I filled Guy in on my discoveries, Irene went in search of some alternative attire for me. It was a relief to get hold of the agent and tell him everything that had occurred. It was a bad line, but I managed to brief him sufficiently. I expected the man to be pleased with my success, but his manner at first seemed somewhat vague, as if these matters were new to him. He told me he’d take care of matters then meet me at my hotel.

“What’s all this about?” Irine questioned me when I’d put down the receiver. “Why are my Aunt and Nick so afraid of you?”

“I’ll explain later. Just now you need to get away from here. If they suspect that you have helped me escape, you may be in real trouble.”

“Oh, that doesn’t worry me” the girl shrugged. “They won’t harm me. I’m family! I’m Marta’s great-niece.”

“But Martha, I mean Marta, she is part of Grey Falcon. She runs the show.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. There’s some kind of organisation called that; named after her, I guess. Her surname is Sakalas, which means Falcon in Lithuanian. Our family is from Lithuania, all except me. My parents were from back there too, but I was born here. They’re both dead.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It happened such a long time ago that I can’t remember them. Marta and Stefan brought me up. They’ve been good to me. Anyway, in that country falcons are supposed to have a special role in fighting off enemies and evil spirits.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “If you believe in that sort of thing. Anything to do with Grey Falcon has always been very hush-hush, and I’ve never been allowed to get involved. I can’t begin to imagine what it does. All I know about it is that they take themselves very seriously. I expect it just gives them a sense of importance, so what’s the harm?”

I chose not to enlighten her with my own understanding of the organisation’s purpose. I changed the subject instead. “Did you really not recognise me?”

“Not as Jennifer. But, you’re that girl in the commercials, aren’t you? Even when you cover up with that coat, you’re quite an eyeful!” Irene looked at me with undisguised admiration, which was not a little embarrassing. “You must be a real celebrity. I’ve seen you in all the fashion magazines. Just imagine if people knew, you aren’t a girl at all underneath!”

I couldn’t argue with her summation.

I looked at the pile of clothing my protector had brought. There was some underwear, a top and a skirt which went well with it, also some shoes. The skirt was snug around the waist and a little on the short side.

“From my younger days” commented my benefactor.

The shoes fitted well, so thankfully I could discard those too-high sandals I seemed to have been walking in for ever.

Embarrassingly the girl stood and watched me while I changed. I felt it would have sounded ungrateful to ask her to turn away, so I just kept my back to her and hoped she didn’t see too much. She’d already seen everything there was to see, of course, but then I’d been unconscious so that was different. I lost no time in dressing in my borrowed garb. To distract her attention further, I asked for some background information.

“Who is Anton?”

“Apart from being a real dish, he’s Marta’s son, and he’s called Tony by most people. He lives way back somewhere near where you come from, so I’ve only met him a couple of times, worse luck. He’s a photographer, and he is doing all right, I believe. He has his own studio.”

“Called Tiffany’s. Yes, I know. I’ve met him.”

“Have you worked with him then? Oh, I envy you. He can adjust my exposure any day of the week!” she joked.

“What about Nick?” I asked when we had stopped laughing.

“That excuse for a man! Not a relation, I’m glad to say. I don’t trust him an inch and I know him better than most. He’s a nasty piece of work.”

That was certainly true.

“You were quick” she giggled when I had done changing. “I was hoping to enjoy the show. I bet you couldn’t wait to get into my panties!”

I blushed scarlet at the suggestion. That hadn’t been on my mind at all.

Irene was all concern to see my dismay. “My, you are a soft little thing” she murmured and took me in her arms. “Don’t mind me. I’m only teasing you.”

She was taller than me and more sturdily built. I felt like a wisp of fluff in her protective grasp. My recent narrow escape had left me vulnerable, I guess, and the embrace was welcome, though the intimacy did little to restore my composure. The sensation of her lithe body pressed so closely against me was provoking feelings within me I didn’t care to analyse. It was some moments before the girl released me.

I was conscious that time was pressing. “Let’s get out of this place and quickly. I don’t think you’re safe here. There’s a man I want you to meet.”

“Is he good looking?” Irene grinned.

“Very!”

“Then I’m your girl, and how I wish that were true.”

Ignoring the innuendo, I tried to get her to be serious. “Irene!”

“I was actually christened Irina, but I don’t let just anyone know that.”

“Irina, then. You need to be more careful. Come on!”

I led the way down the stair and into the street. Plenty of people were about but no-one seemed to pay us any attention as I took my place in the driving seat.

My companion hesitated.

“Hurry please, Irina” I chided.

She slipped into the seat beside me and shut the car door. “I thought I saw someone watching” she explained. “I can’t be sure.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter, but drive quickly, please.” For the first time I detected a note of fear in the girl’s voice.

Guy had decided we should go to the safe haven that my hotel represented and there he would join us. Leaving the car in the garage, we took the back stairs to my room so neither of us would be seen. My companion seemed to have regained her usual sang-froid.

“How lovely” she exclaimed, looking about her. “You do yourself pretty well for one so young. I could get used to all this luxury!”

“It’s part of the job, that’s all. The rest of modelling isn’t all that glamorous. There’s a lot of waiting around, and studios are always too hot or too cold. It isn’t all fun.”

“Don’t!” Irina mimed playing a sad violin. “You will have me in tears soon.”

My unsympathetic friend grinned and deftly caught the cushion I threw at her.

“I’m for the shower” I laughed.

I didn’t hurry myself in the bathroom. Happy in the knowledge we were safe, I started to relax. Perhaps my life might now get back to some kind of normality. My ablutions complete, I slipped on a pretty chemise and feeling pleased with my looks I emerged.

“I thought I’d follow you into the shower” my companion smiled dreamily “and then it will be my turn to borrow some clothes.”

I was startled to see that Irina was already undressed down to her under things. In nothing but black lingerie and hose, she looked provocatively attractive. I was only slightly more decent myself. The intimacy of our situation stirred feelings within me I didn’t stop to examine.

“Let me look at you” she exclaimed taking hold of my hands. “So… This is the real you, or one of them. A boy with breasts or a girl with that extra something. Either way suits me fine. Come here!”

I’d like to be able to say I pushed Irina away when she took me in her arms. I didn’t. Partly I still felt vulnerable and needed reassurance. Partly I sensed her own aloneness and fragility but there was also an element of pure desire of which I’m not very proud.

We had been lying on the bed, locked in each other’s arms, for longer than I care to remember, when there was a tap at the door. Guy! I didn’t want him to see us like this. As if paralysed I stared helplessly into my partner’s eyes. They were dark and held depths of mystery, I noted.
Probably her Slavic origins, I decided idly. It was as if time stood still.

The caller knocked again.

“I’ll go” declared Irina, “as I’m on top.” She grinned mischievously. “And I’ve mussed your makeup. You look as if you have been dragged through the mill. Go and see to your hair.” The girl wrapped herself in one of the fleecy bathrobe’s thoughtfully provided by the hotel, and headed towards the door, while I ran into the bathroom. Distantly, as I tried to mend my looks in front of the glass, I heard the door open.

Something was said, I couldn’t distinguish the words, then it closed again.

Hastily I completed my toilette and donned another of those bathrobes before stepping back into the bedroom. To my surprise Irina was alone. She stood by the door, smiling a strange smile. She seemed to have an unearthly beauty about her.

“Where’s Guy?” I asked.

Irina stretched out a hand and stepped towards me. The other was clasped to her side in an ungainly posture. The seemed to be some kind of dark stain beneath it which was gradually spreading.

“Irina!”

The girl slid silently to the floor. Oh no! I ran to her and, kneeling, took her in my arms, but… she was lifeless as stone.

I was still holding her when Guy finally arrived. Wordlessly he helped me lay her beautiful form on the bed. “I should have been here sooner” he muttered angrily.

Much later, after officialdom had done its grizzly work, I had some burning questions to ask of him.

“I think it was that man, Nick Saunders, that did it. I think she said his name when she opened the door. But how… how did he know she would be here?”

“Her phone was tapped” stated Guy flatly. “Your call to me was overheard. They clearly didn’t trust her. I blame myself. I should have expected that. We’ll check but of course it’s too late now.”

“Why kill her? And… why not both of us?”

“Killing you would have done them no good as you had already told me all you knew. On the other hand, with your friend, it was a case of revenge. One of their own had betrayed them.”

“But she wasn’t one of them. She knew nothing of what they were about.”

“Not how the Comintern see things, I’m afraid. There are no half-measures with them.”

“I should have saved her” I murmured, but I didn’t know how. I shook my head sadly. “Oh Irina.” The tears started to flow. “You must catch Nick… and the others” I sobbed.

Guy put an arm around me and pulled my head to his shoulder.

“The others, as you put it, have already fled. Once they realised you had escaped from that place, they knew the jig was up. Marta Sakalas and Stefan are on their way to Havana as we speak, along with Carson. Anton is on a flight to Hamburg. We’ll pick up Mr Saunders, however. He has nowhere to run.”

“But the papers! The formula! They’ve got them!”

“True.”

I looked at the man angrily. “Why didn’t you arrest Carson when you had the chance? It means we’ve lost.”

“I wouldn’t quite say that.”

I gazed in disbelief. What…?

“All right. I’m going to tell you something now that you must never repeat. Not to your Rachel, not to anyone. In fact, you must never mention what you have been engaged in during these past days.”

“Never?”

“Not for fifty years or so.” He looked very serious. “The formula, as you call it, is bogus. If our scientists are to be believed, the new rocket fuel doesn’t work once you neutralise its instability. So, all efforts to try and control that volatility will be fruitless. It’s been proved not to work, if you like.”

“But why… Why go to all this trouble? Why not just arrest the lot of them? Why…?”

“Because” Guy interrupted. “Because we don’t want the Russians to know what we know. They’re presently investing a huge amount of time and money, trying to get this more powerful propellant to work. Thanks to Carson’s leaked data, they will spend weeks and weeks more, chasing their tails in fruitless research.”

I looked my astonishment. “But why involve me?”

“Well, it’s simple. We needed an amateur.”

The word stung! An amateur! So much for Agent J.

“We didn’t want to let on that we knew what they were up to all along. Waters’ investigation had drawn a blank before they killed him. They think you are a friend of Carson’s and stumbled across their activities pretty much by accident. You were indulging your inquisitive girlish nature, so it seemed.”

The idea of me blundering aimlessly about and falling into that hornet’s nest wasn’t a comfortable one, but Guy’s take on it was reassuring.

“You can be proud of yourself. Your courage has given credence to the information the Soviets have been fed with. Owing to you, they will waste precious months in futile experimentation and that will give our boys the chance to catch up and hopefully to get ahead.”

The man paused to gauge the effect of his words. “It’s all a matter of time.”

I was stunned. We had won, after all. “So that’s what it’s all been for.”

Guy nodded. I stared at him, trying to comprehend this latest twist. I hazarded a guess. “Carson’s on our side, isn’t he?”

The agent looked uncomfortable at my wild surmise. Eventually he admonished “Don’t ever say that again. All I can say is that he’s a brave man.”

I knew I’d been right in taking to the technician. The image of the man contending with who knew what dangers alone in Moscow wasn’t a happy one. I hoped he would stay safe.

“But Irina…” I couldn’t go on. Grief overtook me again.

Some hours later, when I’d digested matters, I felt a little happier. The knowledge that the whole unpleasant episode hadn’t been in vain was soothing. More importantly, though Irina had given her life unknowingly, it had been in a cause which had value for the free world. So matters seemed to me.

The next day everything in my life was back to normality. More modelling. More hanging around and waiting. It was as if nothing had happened. However, when I’d completed what should have been my last day at the studio, Maurice turned up there again and collared me.

“I’ve some bad news for you. The Tiffany studio has closed. I don’t know what the reason is. I can’t get hold of Tony. I’ve asked the studio here to complete the unfinished shoot that he started. If you are agreeable, you will need to stay here a bit longer than you planned. You don’t object to remaining two more days, do you?”

I didn’t mind at all, though I was missing Rachel more and more. The delay gave me some space to adjust to the everyday stream of life that was about to sweep me remorselessly onwards, also a chance for moments of reflection over what had occurred. Moreover, it made it easier for me to attend a quiet funeral. There were few mourners, and none shed more tears than I.

Sworn to secrecy, when I got home I couldn’t tell Rachel anything of the brief adventures of Agent J, for which I was grateful. It would have been hard to explain my emotions regarding Irina and I was glad to be spared that. As matters stood, she naturally wanted to know every detail of how I’d spent my days away and though I told her as much as I was allowed to say, it was clear that there were gaps.

“What did you do with yourself?”

“Oh… sightseeing, mainly.” It was sort of true!

“I’m really glad you’re back again” she concluded. “I’m grateful for all the money you earn, but I sometimes think that all this modelling work you do is a huge waste of time.”

I had to agree with her. I put my arms around her and smiled into her eyes. “You’re right. I would say that that perfectly sums up what I’ve been doing while I’ve been away. I was simply wasting time.”

Yes, that was it.

“Wasting precious time!”

The end