Free Murder Offstage by L. B. Hathaway Page B

up to us…you know the sort, an ex-soldier,
half-blind and limping, carting a bucket of single cheap red roses for
Valentine’s Day. I really didn’t want to buy one for her, but I felt sorry for
the man. And then, what do you think happened?’
    Posie shook her head, and stared into his eyes. She was
almost convinced he was telling the truth now. She was also conscious of her
hand, still in his. His strong touch. His desire to make everything right
between them.
    ‘She bought the whole bucket of roses herself! Bless the
chap, he couldn’t believe his luck! But everyone in the queue at the fish and
chip stall was staring and whispering, and giving me evil looks. One woman even
shouted out “ What sort of fella makes a lady buy her own roses on
Valentine’s Day? ” Well, I swear I flushed as red as the roses. And then
Babe carted them around all night long. Making a spectacle of herself. She was
half-cut by the time we reached the theatre, so I took the tickets from her so as
not to lose them. I was embarrassed. She was making eyes at all the other
fellows in the queue by this time, and I was on the point of running off,
getting away from her, when I suddenly saw you. I couldn’t believe my eyes!’
    He clasped her hand tighter. ‘I swear to you Po, when I saw
you there I almost died. I could only imagine what it looked like. With all my
heart I wanted to come with you, to explain. I would have jumped in the cab
with you like a shot.’
    ‘Why didn’t you, then?’
    ‘I couldn’t leave her there, in that state, alone. How could
I? A minute later it was all over, anyway.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘She spewed up all over the red carpet, and some poor beggar
in charge of the programmes had to come out and clean up the vomit. I put her
in a taxi and then I headed home myself.’
    ‘You didn’t want to see the play?’
    ‘Not on your life! Not after what you’d told me a few weeks
ago.’
    Len took her hand in both of his:
    ‘Can you forgive me? Say you understand.’
    Posie nodded. Her office was very still. There was just the
clanging sound of the typewriter coming from the outside office.
    ‘There’s something funny about our Miss Sinclair,’ she
whispered softly. ‘I think she may have been placed here, that she’s watching
us somehow. She’s deliberately trying to cause trouble, sabotaging my work. I
think she’s a phoney.’
    Len raised his eyebrow questioningly.
    ‘I was beginning to think the same thing. But look, let’s
not talk about that now. She’s just a silly girl. Actually, there’s something
I’d like to do more than anything…’ and Posie almost jumped out of her skin as
he kissed her hand, his eyes looking directly into hers.
    He leant across the desk in one fluid movement and came very
close, his mouth just a fraction away from hers. She closed her eyes.
    His lips were suddenly on hers: a light fluttering feeling
at first, like a wave of butterflies landing. Len leant further in, and there
was an unrepentant yearning desire in the way he took her face in both his
hands and started to kiss her passionately.
    She pulled away, suddenly chastened:
    ‘But what about your girlfriend…? We can’t…’
    ‘Shhh,’ he murmured, soothingly.
    It was not much of an answer but it was enough. Posie closed
her eyes again and reached for him, as she had wanted to for almost two years.
    Just then came a fearsome knocking noise at the door.
    ****

 
     
    Seven
    Len and Posie jumped apart.
    The fragile glass door was sent banging backwards on its
hinges with the force of a hurricane and as Len and Posie turned around they
saw the Earl of Cardigeon and a sheepish-looking Rufus trooping in.
    ‘We didn’t know where else to come, old thing,’ said Rufus
simply. There was a strain of desperation in his voice. ‘So we came here.’
    Posie smoothed her hair down and jumped up, offering the
Earl her own seat. He took it without question, surveying the room with his
beady eyes and saying nothing. He seemed