11 Chapter 11

“That was a narrow escape!” She laughed and shook the raindrops out of her hair. It was the first time I had heard her laugh. She stroked her fingers over my arm, and then led the way two flights up. I watched the way the material of her coat shifted from side to side over her firm buttocks as she climbed the stairs.

“This belongs to Bart.”

The flat was so small it would have been impossible to swing a cat in it. There was a kitchen with room enough for a cooker and a small refrigerator. The sitting room was crowded with only a loveseat and a console television that would air the few stations available to Britons. A door standing ajar revealed the bathroom.

“Leave your purchases here.” She took our coats and draped them over the loveseat. “The bedroom is this way.”

The bedroom was also tiny, with barely enough room for the dresser and the narrow bed. She crossed to it and threw back the coverlet, and the musky scent of a man’s cologne rose in the air.