Free Streetwise by Roberta Kray Page B

in danger of becoming seriously boring.’
    ‘Good. I like boring. I
love
boring. Is there anything wrong with wanting a nice quiet life?’
    ‘And how old are you exactly?’
    Ava blew on the top of her coffee and took a couple of quick sips. ‘Old enough to know that there are better ways of spending an afternoon than staring at a stuffed weasel.’
    But Tash wasn’t giving up without a fight. ‘You’re coming with me,’ she said. ‘Even if I have to drag you there.’

11
    Ava’s first surprise, as she walked through the door into Beast, was the number of people who were there. Who’d have thought that an exhibition of stuffed animals would have drawn such a crowd? Her second surprise came as her eyes alighted on the good-looking blond man standing by a makeshift bar.
    ‘Oh, God,’ she murmured, nudging Tash with her elbow.
    ‘What?’
    ‘It’s him. It’s Guy Wilder.’
    Tash followed her line of sight. ‘So?’
    Ava gazed at Wilder as he handed out brightly coloured cocktails. He was surrounded by a group of women, all stylishly dressed and all vying for his attention. ‘So it’s embarrassing, isn’t it? Last time we met, I was with Chris Street – and the two of them were just about ready to kill each other.’
    Tash gave a shrug. ‘I shouldn’t worry. He won’t remember you.’
    ‘Really? Well, thanks for that. It’s good to know I’m so instantly forgettable.’
    Tash tilted her head and grinned. She was wearing one of her cuter hats, a bright red pill box with a short net veil. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t. All I’m saying is that he was probably preoccupied. And anyway, what does it matter? It’s not as though he’s got anything against you.’
    ‘I suppose.’ But Ava still felt awkward about coming face to face with him again. ‘Look, why don’t you go and get the drinks and I’ll wait here.’
    ‘Okay, what do you want?’
    ‘It doesn’t matter. Anything. Surprise me.’ While Tash headed for the bar, Ava began to wander along the cabinets, reading the names of the various exhibits. She wasn’t really interested in the contents, but she took the opportunity to do some people watching and to eavesdrop on their conversations. Morton Carlisle, sporting a tweed jacket and a green bow tie, appeared a few feet away from her and began talking to a middle-aged expensively dressed couple. She could hear him holding forth on the merits of a mounted red fox, on the
exquisite
artistry and
sophisticated
technique.
    Ava peered between the couple until she spotted the animal in question. The red fox was standing alert with its ears pricked and its head turned a little to one side. For a second it seemed to be looking straight back at her, its wily eyes staring directly into hers. She felt an odd jolt followed by a pang of sympathy for the remains of the creature trapped forever inside its glass cage. She wondered how it had died, if it had been fast or slow, and if it had even understood the concept of mortality.
    The view of the fox was obscured as the middle-aged woman shifted position. Ava looked across the gallery towards the bar, wondering where Tash had got to with the drinks. There was no sign of her. Guy Wilder was now chatting with a slender, elegant black man and an older grey-haired guy in a suit. His female entourage lurked to one side, waiting – or so she surmised – for an opportunity to join him again.
    As Ava watched, the older guy moved and turned his head slightly. It was then that she thought that she recognised him. But she couldn’t quite place the face. It niggled away at her, her frustration growing by the second. Who was he? Not wanting to be caught staring, she walked along a row of cabinets, pretending to be absorbed in a display of freshwater fish. It was only as she surreptitiously lifted her gaze again, that she suddenly realised. Yes, she’d got it – he was the bloke she’d seen outside the Hope. It was! It was the Russian