that we’ll fix alternative transport—for part of the way at least. If they are after you they’ll have a pretty good watch on the airfields and railroad depots. I think you’d better call your contact with the locals. See what he says about the situation. Chicky will give you the rest of the dope. You’re OK, aren’t you, ‘L’? No bones broken or anything?”
Boysie was beginning to take the first steps into gloom. “I’m all right,” he said, sounding as disinterested as he felt. He replaced the receiver.
“ Hey, now what are you looking so miserable about, Boysie baby?” Chicory was back on the corner of the bed, her head cocked on one side, a seductive mouth lifted in an inviting smile. Boysie looked at her with relish. Ungentlemanly relish. She was wearing a navy crepe suit with bold chalk stripes slashing down the material, and had thrown off her jacket, revealing—to very full effect—the white blouse with a centrally embroidered sunburst design. Her legs were crossed, and the slim skirt affectionately hugged her thigh, then slid smoothly down the leg, ending in two sunny inches of nylon above the knee. She was the most delightful thing on which Boysie had set his lustful eyes. Since Priscilla Braddock-Fairchild, anyway.
“ Well ...” For a moment Boysie looked like a recalcitrant schoolboy. “Your mate, Max, says there are some changes in our schedule.”
“ Schedule, skedule, schmedule.” The sunburst design wiggled as she inhaled. “And it’s me that should be miserable. We’re doin’ the journey by bus. Some of it anyhow. By bus?” She made a disgusted, clucking noise, rolling her eyes upwards. “Max thinks it’ll be safer to mingle with the herd. We leave on the noon hour, he’s sending the tickets over, and they’re goin’ to let us know where we can change to a nice cool jet. But it’s about three days West—some horrible hot dump like Oklahoma City or Albuquerque.” She gave a heavy mock sigh. “It’s goin’ to be a long ride, boy, so pack yo deodorant, yo sure need it on them thar buses.” Chicory threw back her head and laughed. “Now come on, take me out to dinner and I’ll show you the sights.”
“ I’ve got to call someone first,” said Boysie, remembering Siedler and rooting in the bedside drawer for the envelope with the two telephone numbers. “And I don’t know whether I really should go out.”
“ Why the heck not?”
“ Those two characters . .”
“ If they’re still waiting for you, you’ll be a darned sight safer out in a crowd than sitting up here alone.”
“ I wasn’t thinking about being alone,” said Boysie, finding the envelope. “I was considering a nice quiet dinner for two. Up here. You know, the soft lights and sweet music thing.”
Chicory smiled—warm and comfortable: “Nothing I’d like better, honey, but I have a rule. Stupid, but it’s the only one I’ve ever made and the only one I’ve ever managed to keep in the whole of my long low adult life.”
“ Oh? Rules are made to be broken. What is it anyway?”
“ Simple. I don’t—on first dates. And really, Boysie, this is a first date. You’re cute, I like you a lot, and you and I both know darned well what’s going to happen if we have dinner up here. Sure, it’ll happen anyway—maybe in Oklahoma City, maybe out in San Diego. It’ll happen, we both knew that soon as we saw one another. Chemistry. But I’m not going to break my little old rule; and you don’t want to spoil my record, do you, hon?” She got up and moved over to him.
Before he had time to answer, Chicory had coiled her arms round his neck and their lips were tethered together—open wide, fluttering, sucking the breath from each other’s lungs while their tongues spliced in intricate patterns between their teeth. At last she pushed him gently away.
“ You make your call, Boysie honey.” She was speaking softly, scant-breathed. “The sooner we’re out of here, the more sure I am
Boysie was beginning to take the first steps into gloom. “I’m all right,” he said, sounding as disinterested as he felt. He replaced the receiver.
“ Hey, now what are you looking so miserable about, Boysie baby?” Chicory was back on the corner of the bed, her head cocked on one side, a seductive mouth lifted in an inviting smile. Boysie looked at her with relish. Ungentlemanly relish. She was wearing a navy crepe suit with bold chalk stripes slashing down the material, and had thrown off her jacket, revealing—to very full effect—the white blouse with a centrally embroidered sunburst design. Her legs were crossed, and the slim skirt affectionately hugged her thigh, then slid smoothly down the leg, ending in two sunny inches of nylon above the knee. She was the most delightful thing on which Boysie had set his lustful eyes. Since Priscilla Braddock-Fairchild, anyway.
“ Well ...” For a moment Boysie looked like a recalcitrant schoolboy. “Your mate, Max, says there are some changes in our schedule.”
“ Schedule, skedule, schmedule.” The sunburst design wiggled as she inhaled. “And it’s me that should be miserable. We’re doin’ the journey by bus. Some of it anyhow. By bus?” She made a disgusted, clucking noise, rolling her eyes upwards. “Max thinks it’ll be safer to mingle with the herd. We leave on the noon hour, he’s sending the tickets over, and they’re goin’ to let us know where we can change to a nice cool jet. But it’s about three days West—some horrible hot dump like Oklahoma City or Albuquerque.” She gave a heavy mock sigh. “It’s goin’ to be a long ride, boy, so pack yo deodorant, yo sure need it on them thar buses.” Chicory threw back her head and laughed. “Now come on, take me out to dinner and I’ll show you the sights.”
“ I’ve got to call someone first,” said Boysie, remembering Siedler and rooting in the bedside drawer for the envelope with the two telephone numbers. “And I don’t know whether I really should go out.”
“ Why the heck not?”
“ Those two characters . .”
“ If they’re still waiting for you, you’ll be a darned sight safer out in a crowd than sitting up here alone.”
“ I wasn’t thinking about being alone,” said Boysie, finding the envelope. “I was considering a nice quiet dinner for two. Up here. You know, the soft lights and sweet music thing.”
Chicory smiled—warm and comfortable: “Nothing I’d like better, honey, but I have a rule. Stupid, but it’s the only one I’ve ever made and the only one I’ve ever managed to keep in the whole of my long low adult life.”
“ Oh? Rules are made to be broken. What is it anyway?”
“ Simple. I don’t—on first dates. And really, Boysie, this is a first date. You’re cute, I like you a lot, and you and I both know darned well what’s going to happen if we have dinner up here. Sure, it’ll happen anyway—maybe in Oklahoma City, maybe out in San Diego. It’ll happen, we both knew that soon as we saw one another. Chemistry. But I’m not going to break my little old rule; and you don’t want to spoil my record, do you, hon?” She got up and moved over to him.
Before he had time to answer, Chicory had coiled her arms round his neck and their lips were tethered together—open wide, fluttering, sucking the breath from each other’s lungs while their tongues spliced in intricate patterns between their teeth. At last she pushed him gently away.
“ You make your call, Boysie honey.” She was speaking softly, scant-breathed. “The sooner we’re out of here, the more sure I am
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