Exocet - Jack Higgins [57]
* * *
Gabrielle lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. After a while, she turned her head and found Montera watching her.
'How are you this morning?' he asked gravely.
'Fine.' Amazing how calm she felt, how much in control. 'I'm sorry about last night.'
He reached for one of her hands and kissed it. 'Do you want to tell me about it?'
'Nothing to tell,' she said. 'Old ghosts, that's all.' She held his hand tightly. 'This business with Donner in Brittany. It's important?'
'Yes,' he said. 'Let's say he can supply certain equipment my government needs because the arms embargo has blocked more normal channels.'
'And when the transaction is completed, you'll return to the Argentine? How long, Raul? Two days? Three?'
'I don't have any choice,' he said simply.
'And neither do I. I must take what time there is, even if I have to share you with bloody Donner. I'm coming with you to Lancy.'
The delight in his face was plain. 'You're sure?'
'Very.'
She rolled over and he buried his face in her neck. She stroked his hair and stared up at the ceiling again. Amazing how easily they came, the lies, the deceit.
* * *
At Brie-Comte-Robert, Donner walked up and down impatiently, smoking a cigarette. Wanda leaned against the hangar wall, Rabier waiting beside the Chieftain.
'Where the hell is he?' Donner demanded and then a cab turned in through the main gate and crossed the apron towards them.
Raul Montera got out, wearing jeans and his old black flying jacket. He turned and held out a hand to Gabrielle. Donner was delighted, all anger leaving him, and went to meet them.
'So you decided to join us after all?'
'Yes,' she said simply. 'On reflection, I decided I'd nothing better to do.'
Behind her, Montera was getting the bags and paying off the driver. Amazing how marvellous she looked in jeans and the blue reefer coat. It occurred to Donner with a kind of wonder, that this was different. He wanted this woman to want him.
'Fine,' he told her. 'Let's get moving then.'
They turned and walked towards the Chieftain. Wanda came forward and glanced at Montera, that look on her face again.
He smiled. 'You worry too much.'
'Maybe you should worry more,' she said, and followed the others.
* * *
The small bar on the quay at St Martin was empty except for Villiers and Jackson who stood at one end eating the croissants the owner, a large, matronly blonde, had prepared for them.
'More coffee?' she asked.
Villiers nodded. 'Where are all the customers?'
'The regulars are working, Monsieur, and we don't get many tourists these days. Things aren't as they were.'
'I thought there was an airfield near here?'
'Ah, yes, at Lancy, but that closed down years ago.' She poured hot coffee. 'You gentlemen have business here?'
'No,' Villiers said. 'We've been touring Brittany by car for the past week. Someone told us the sea fishing was good here.'
'That's true. Best on the coast.'
'Where could we stay?'
'Well, there's the hotel up the street, the Pomme d'Or, but not if you take my advice. It's a dump. Hugo, the estate agent, has plenty of places to rent. Bungalows, cottages and that sort of thing. He'd be only too pleased to see you, believe me. As I say, we don't get the tourists these days like we used to. His office is fifty yards along the front.'
'I'm very grateful.' Villiers delivered his most charming smile. 'We'll call on him now.'
* * *
Monsieur Hugo, a kindly, white-haired old man who appeared to run his office single-handed, was most accommodating. He had a large map of the area on the wall, little red flags on pins stuck into place to indicate the location of his properties.
'I could find you something here in town with no difficulty,' he said. 'Of course the minimum letting period would be one week.'
'No problem,' Villiers replied. 'However, I would prefer something in the country. A friend in Paris who stayed here some years ago mentioned a house called Maison Blanche.'
The old man nodded, took off his glasses and pointed to one of the flags. 'Ah yes, a fine house, but much too large