Devil May Care - Sebastian Faulks [53]
He touched the blemish-free skin of her thigh with his fingertips, then leaned forward and kissed it.
‘Soft,’ he said. ‘As well as flawless.’
He felt Scarlett’s hands running through his stilldamp hair as he kissed her thigh again. Then he stood up and wrapped his arms round her.
‘You can take that skirt off now, if you like,’ he said. Scarlett did as he suggested, then removed her jacket and blouse as well. As she sat on the edge of the bed in her underwear, Bond stepped towards her and loosened the knotted towel at his waist. As he did so, there came a knock at the door.
‘Hello, hello. Mr James. Is Hamid. I have good trouser for you.’
‘Exactly what I need at the moment,’ said Bond, grabbing the towel.
He looked at Scarlett’s flushed, expectant face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
She inhaled tightly, as though she found it hard to breathe. Then she nodded briefly and picked up her clothes from the floor.
‘It’s work,’ said Bond.
‘Or destiny,’ said Scarlett, with a sigh.
*
They ate in the hotel dining room, and Bond invited Hamid to join them.
‘I presume you didn’t have time for the caviar this afternoon,’ said Bond.
‘No, Mr James. I wait for you.’
‘All right, let’s see what they can do.’
Bond was wearing a casual white shirt and some navy cotton trousers. They were a little loose at the waist, but the outfit was surprisingly tasteful, he thought, by comparison with what most men in Noshahr appeared to be wearing.
Scarlett had had time to go out and buy herself a light dress from a tourist shop. Although she complained that it was cut for a Persian grandmother, the pale blue went oddly well with her dark brown eyes. She had reserved herself a room along the corridor from Bond’s.
The caviar was brought in a casket, whose lid was taken off to reveal an inner glass bowl set on ice. Hamid’s eyes were bulging as he scooped out a large helping on to his plate and started to lever it into his mouth, using a piece of flatbread as a trowel. To Bond’s dismay, he drank Coca-Cola with it. Bond had switched to whisky, and Scarlett, since the hotel had no other wine, drank champagne.
Over the course of dinner, Bond explained to
Scarlett what he’d done in Tehran and described the ship-plane he had discovered in the hangar. ‘If I can get some pictures of it,’ he said, ‘we’ll wire them back to London.’
‘It sounds most peculiar,’ said Scarlett. ‘Like something from science fiction.’
‘It’s real enough,’ said Bond. ‘I suspect it’s of Soviet manufacture. But what intrigues me is precisely what it does. And why it has a British flag on it.’
‘ That points to Gorner,’ said Scarlett. ‘I told you about his British obsession.’
‘Sound like Caspian Sea Monster,’ said Hamid. Bond had almost forgotten that the driver was still with them, so quiet had he been with his head down in the food.
Now Hamid looked up from his plate, and brushed some rice and fava beans from his moustache. ‘Caspian Sea Monster. This last year have been two seeings.’
‘Sightings?’
‘Yes. Has been seen from aeroplane over sea. People very frightened. Is bigger than any ship or plane. And goes faster than any car. They think it is an animal. Alive, like your famous monster.’
‘Loch Ness?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I can assure you it’s very much more solid than Nessie,’ said Bond. ‘But what I’d like to know is whether it only carries cargo or whether it has some sort of weapons payload.’
The waiter brought roast duck with pomegranate seeds and served it to them with a herb salad that looked past its best.
‘Do you think it would be safer to go back at night?’ said Scarlett. ‘We’d be less visible.’
‘We?’ said Bond incredulously.
‘I could be an extra pair of eyes.’
‘Me too,’ said Hamid. ‘I come.’
Bond considered, as he drained the glass of whisky and sat back. ‘Well. I need to get my gun. That heavy American thing I left in your car, Hamid, it’s too cumbersome. Let Scarlett have it. Do you know how to fire a gun?’
‘I’m a banker, James. As you keep reminding me.’
‘Stand with your feet planted