Requiem Mass Read Online Free Page B

day, the dust and noise of the busy London street did little to aid her composure. She squinted against the bright sunlight, fighting a growing sense of disorientation, and looked around almost desperately for the driver they had said would be there to meet her. It had sounded so simple on the phone, but here, in the press of people and traffic, she realised that she could conceivably miss the car altogether.
    Increasingly panicked she started violently as a dark, garlic-breathing man came up to her and touched her elbow lightly.
    ‘Are you lost, madam? You look a little dazed.’ He spoke with a heavy accent.
    ‘No, no, I’m all right, thank you. Just a little bit dazzled by all this sunshine. Thank you, really I’m OK.’
    ‘But, forgive me for saying so, delightful madam, you do not seem OK – and I should never forgive myself if I left you looking lost like this.’
    His attentions were vaguely threatening and Deborah was desperate to shake him off.
    ‘No, really I am all right. I’m meeting someone here. They’ll be along in a minute,’ Deborah answered abruptly, belatedly softening her tone with a half-smile that did not reach her eyes.
    ‘But it is wrong to leave you here unescorted, lady. And I have a nice restaurant just over the road there, where you could sit comfortably and watch for the person you await.’
    The man was now insistent and his touch on her elbow changed to a firm grip. He started to move her to the kerb as if to cross the road.
    ‘It’s all right, the lady’s with me,’ said a voice from above and behind the man.
    Deborah and her unwelcome guardian turned together. They could make out little of the man’s features for his back was towards the sun, casting his face into half-shadow. He was tall, well muscled without being brawny. Something about his bearing immediately made Deborah think of the police, but she dismissed this almost at once and put the impression down to the effect created by his peaked chauffeur’s cap.
    ‘Mrs Fearnside? I’m your chauffeur from Happy Families, the catalogue people.’
    ‘Yes, yes, that’s me.’ Deborah responded quickly, keen now to have the pestering restaurateur removed, and then in a manner she felt more becoming, ‘How kind of you to escort me.’
    ‘Not at all, madam, it’s my job. But we must go at once. I’m on a yellow line and I don’t want us clamped.’
    The restaurateur had not relinquished ownership of her elbow and seemed reluctant to let her go but then something in the driver’s eyes and his manner made him back down quickly. He sketched a faint bow to Deborah before leaving to cross the road.
    ‘ Au revoir, madame . I hope our paths may cross again.’
    Deborah ignored his retreating back. ‘Thanks again. He was becoming a nuisance.’
    The driver said nothing but smiled at her, and in one fluid movement, took her small overnight bag in which she had brought her make-up things. He gently placed his palm under her elbow and almost lifted her across the road to the waiting car, avoiding the busy traffic. Unlocking the doors he placed her bag and jacket on the rear seat and opened the front passenger door for her. Deborah hesitated slightly.
    ‘Unless you’d prefer to ride in the back, madam? I just thought you’d be more comfortable in the front; people usually are.’ For the first time he looked her full in the face and smiled. With a small flutter Deborah realised that he was extremely attractive: older than she had first thought – but very good-looking and with a younger man’s physique.
    ‘Thanks. I’ll ride in the front with you. I prefer the front too.’
    She slipped into the warm, leather-scented interior as he made sure that her dress was well clear of the door. The car nosed into thick traffic and he switched on the air conditioning. Soon the air was down to a pleasant temperature that did not rely on the recirculation of the fume-filled atmosphere outside.
    ‘As we have to go through one or two rough