Solo

Convalescing. Somebody shot me in the chest.’
    ‘I feel I owe you an apology,’ she said, reaching for her drink and letting the front of her dressing gown gape for an instant before she closed it with a hand.
    Bond took a big gulp of his bourbon – remembering her body, that night at Lokomeji in the rest-house.
    ‘I should go,’ he said, his voice hoarser than he would have wished.
    ‘Let me say sorry first,’ she said and stood up – unbelting her dressing gown, freeing it to fall from her shoulders and crumple on the carpet.
    She allowed Bond to study her for a moment then stooped, picked up her dressing gown, slung it over her arm and sauntered into the bedroom, Bond following. She hung the dressing gown on the hook on the back of the door and smiled at him.
    ‘I’m sorry I shot you,’ she said and slipped into the bed. ‘But I did it to save your life.’
    Bond pulled off his tie and began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

·8·
     

CHELSEA
     
    Bond and Blessing made love, then ordered food and drink – two omelettes and fries and a bottle of champagne – and, after they’d eaten and drunk, they made love again. She was eager and insisting, giving him precise instructions, at one stage rolling him on to his back and sitting astride him, her hands pressing hard on his chest as she rocked to and fro. Bond did as he was told, revelling in her slim brown body, her lissom youthfulness.
    Later, when they lay in each other’s arms, she told him that she’d been with no one else since that night they’d been captured by Kobus Breed.
    ‘I thought about you a lot,’ she said. ‘And when I saw you in the restaurant I felt my heart jump, you know . . .’ She laughed quietly. ‘My first reaction was pleasure – not alarm. What does that tell you?’
    ‘That you’ve still got a lot to learn,’ Bond said.
    She punched him gently on his shoulder and kissed him.
    ‘So teach me,’ she said.
    Bond slipped out of her room in the small hours, having been given all the details about the AfricaKIN flight and the house in Orange County. He had dressed and kissed her goodbye and gave her naked body a final caress as she lay sleepily on the bed amidst the rumpled sheets.
    ‘I suppose we’d better not meet again,’ Bond said. ‘Until this is all over.’
    ‘I know what,’ she said. ‘I’ll ask to be posted to London.’ She sat up and put her arms round his neck. ‘That would be fun, wouldn’t it, James? You and me in London. Where do you live?’
    ‘You know where I live.’
    ‘No I don’t.’
    ‘Chelsea.’
    ‘You and me in Chelsea . . .’ She lay back on the pillows, touching herself. ‘Think about it, James . . .’
    Bond was tempted to tear his clothes off and climb back in the bed.
    ‘There’s no harm in thinking,’ he said. He kissed her quickly on the lips and left before his resolve collapsed.
    As he crossed from the annexe to the main block of the motel Bond paused, some sixth sense making him draw into the shadows of a doorway. He waited, looking about him. The parking lot was almost full, its corralled cars shining dewily in the glow of the arc lights, like some sort of sleeping mechanical herd in its vast paddock. Nobody moving, nobody to be seen. He waited a couple of minutes but there was nothing to worry him. He strode into the rear of the motel, with a wave to the night porter, and rode the elevator up to his room. He requested the motel operator to give him a wake-up call at 5 a.m., slept for a couple of hours then showered and shaved and, as dawn approached, he went down to the lobby and asked the sleepy doorman to hail him a taxi. Thirty minutes later he was breakfasting in the dining room of the Fairview.
     
    After breakfast Bond took a taxi to the BOAC offices on Pennsylvania Avenue and confirmed his return flight to London for the evening of the following day. Now he was glad that he’d booked first class – he could rebook without any problem at the very last minute, and even not showing up was unlikely to be penalised as long as notice was given. He left the offices, hailed a cab and paid the driver $10 to take him round the corner and wait. From the shelter of a doorway he saw agent Massinette stroll into the BOAC offices, no doubt to confirm the flight that Bond was leaving on. The CIA would be reassured and Bond assumed that the surveillance of him would be less thorough. Wait and see. Massinette would acquire the necessary information with a