Angel Touch by Mike Ripley Page B

two.
    â€˜Well ... thank you. But the shoes aren’t dangerous.’
    â€˜You don’t know what I’m thinking,’ I leered.
    â€˜That’s enough of that,’ said Lisabeth. If I’d been wearing trousers she would probably have smacked the backs of my legs. ‘Salome is worried.’
    â€˜Then tell all, Salome. You know what they say, A Trouble Shared ... is two people losing sleep.’ I buried my face in the OJ carton.
    Salome licked her lips and leaned forward. I wished she wouldn’t do that when I was wearing only a towel.
    â€˜Do you remember what you said about Capricorn Travel last night, when you were talking to Alec?’ Her eyes widened in hope. Lisabeth’s widened out of sheer nosiness.
    â€˜To be honest, Sal darling, I can’t remember last night, let alone Capricorn Travel or Alec. Alec who? Do I owe him money?’
    â€˜Angel!’ snapped Lisabeth. ‘Be serious.’
    I shook my head to clear some of the pebbles in there. They just moved position a bit.
    â€˜Okay, okay, it’s all coming back to me now. Yes, there was this guy at the party ... no, earlier, at the pub. He had a particularly nasty turn of phrase that I didn’t want ... Beeby. What happened to Beeby?’
    â€˜She left with one of Frank’s friends,’ said Salome, almost apologetically.
    â€˜A musician?’ I must have sounded worried, because it startled her.
    â€˜No,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Although Wallace has done some contract work for CBS and EMI. Why?’
    â€˜Oh, nothing. Skip it.’ Wallace, eh? I wonder what his friends called him.
    â€˜Well, get on with it,’ Lisabeth shouted angrily. She probably wasn’t shouting, but it felt like it.
    As quickly as I could, I told them about the Chinless Wonder and the guy he called Simon or Si and how I’d noticed him because of his mouthy attitude and devotion to the Eichmann school of racial harmony.
    â€˜I just remembered that stuff about Capricorn Travel. They talked about the shit hitting the fan today and tipping somebody off to pull out his stake. Later on, when we got back here, I was just being lippy and showing off. I don’t know what it means, for Christ’s sake. Is it serious? Don’t tell me, it’s serious, isn’t it?’
    Salome reached out and put a hand on mine. Lisabeth scowled.
    â€˜We could be talking unemployment, Angel. I work with Alec, and he knows you know something only I or he could have known.’
    â€˜But ...’
    â€˜He’s got to mention it today at the office and yours truly gets it in the neck. Then it’s goodbye yellow brick road.’
    â€˜And goodbye new place in Limehouse?’
    â€˜â€˜Fraid so. We couldn’t afford it just on Frank’s salary. Yet.’
    â€˜Does he know?’
    â€˜He knows something’s wrong, but not what exactly, and not how bad it is. You see, Capricorn Travel is one of mine. One of my companies. I’m the sector analyst and they’re my particular tip – or they were – and our company are their brokers and ...’
    Her big eyes misted over and she swallowed hard to lock off the tears.
    There was only one thing for it.
    â€˜Listen, love, is there anything I can do to help?’
    As soon as I’d said it I wished I’d bitten my tongue.
    â€˜Well, actually, there could be.’
    Bitten clean through.
    Â 
    So I had to go to lunch with Salome; what’s so bad about that? Normally, of course, absolutely nothing. Normally an honour worth lying, cheating and maybe even wearing a tie for.
    But this was lunch at the office. A working lunch, a real finger-tap table-top session. And I had a nasty feeling that I was being served up as dessert.
    Come and have lunch in our Directors’ Room, she’d said, with Alec and their section boss. Have a shave and put on a suit and find some black shoes, she’d thought.
    Well, the suit was out