Back Room Girl: By the author of Paul Temple. Francis Durbridge

to begin his inquiries in the morning, and then Leyland, glancing at his watch, said it should be dark enough for them to leave.

      ‘Shall I guide you to the entrance?’ he asked, or would you prefer Miss Silvers?’

      ‘Much as I like you,’ said Roy, ‘there are occasions when I prefer the company of others. Besides, I’ve adopted Miss Silvers as my special guide in this mine, so if she doesn’t mind—’

      ‘All right, all right,’ chuckled the Chief Inspector. ‘I get your point.’

      If Miss Silvers did, she did not show it. Instead, she again began to protest that she must get on with her work.

      ‘That’ll keep for a few minutes longer,’ said Leyland. ‘You haven’t been out of this place for a week. You look as if you need a breath of fresh air.’

      She did not seem very pleased by this remark and sighed resignedly.

      ‘Very well,’ she said, ‘but don’t blame me if we fall behind schedule.’

      ‘I won’t,’ said Leyland. ‘Good night, Roy. I hope you’ll be all right in the morning.’

      ‘Good night, and I hope I’ll have some information for you soon.’

      ‘Well, look out for yourself. It’s more than possible that you were watched this morning.’

      ‘I will, but two can play at that game. I’ve done a little watching at times myself, but I’ll be careful.’

      ‘See that you are. Don’t underestimate the Delouris crowd. They mean business.’

      Miss Silvers led Roy down another labyrinth of galleries, Angus following. She did not speak, and he sensed that she was feeling a little resentful. As they neared an opening, through which he could feel the night air, a figure flitted in front of them. Roy caught Miss Silvers by the arm and drew her to one side.

      ‘It’s all right,’ she said rather impatiently. ‘That’s only one of the guards.’

      ‘My dear friend Joe?’

      ‘No, Joe will be off duty by this time. It’s Spud. He was one of the sea-going engineers who had charge of the spud piers of the Mulberry harbour at Arromanches. That’s how he got his name.’

      ‘’Evening, Spud,’ she said as they came up to the man. He was holding a Sten gun under his arm and stood to one side to let them pass. ‘All quiet?’

      ‘’Evening, Miss Silvers. Yes, it’s quiet as a grave. Not going out, are you?’

      ‘No, just seeing our guest off. I shan’t be a minute.’

      Spud grinned. ‘’Evening, sir,’ he said to Roy. ‘I hope Joe didn’t hit you too hard. He had a shock when he found out who he’d hit. We heard quite a bit about you during the war, you see. But it was nothing to the shock he had when your dog bit him. Plucky little fellow, I must say.’ He bent down and patted Angus’s head, chuckling. ‘Joe was never much of a one for dogs, I’m afraid.’

      ‘And I,’ said Roy, ‘was never much of a one for being hit on the head. Anyway, you can tell him from me there’s no hard feelings – except in my head.’

      Spud laughed. ‘I’ll tell him. Good night, sir.’

      ‘Good night.’

      They walked on a few yards until they were out of sight of Spud and at the entrance of the tunnel, which was well screened by bushes and shrubs. Roy stopped, looked up at the clear, star-filled sky and sighed.

      ‘What a lovely night! It’s perfect for a walk. I suppose you wouldn’t care to see me safely back to the chalet? I think I shall sleep out tonight.’

      ‘It is a lovely night,’ said Miss Silvers, a little less grudgingly, he thought, ‘but I’ve got work to do and I’ve wasted too much time already.’

      ‘Wasted? That’s not very flattering.’

      ‘It wasn’t meant to be. I regard anything that takes me away from my work as a waste of time.’

      ‘What a slave-driver you are and what fun you’re missing! Fancy talking about work on a night like this – the air soft as silk, a sky like black velvet, studded with jewels, the sea murmuring gently in the background. It’s perfect – and you talk about work!’

      She did not speak. His hand touched hers. It was cold, and he took it between his own as if to warm it. She did not withdraw it, but it remained limp in his without answering the pressure of his own. He looked at her and in the starlight he could see that she was steadily returning his gaze. He bent his head and the thought that came absurdly into his mind was what Jim Tailby would say if he could see him now.

      She did not move away and he kissed her on the mouth, gently at first and then more warmly. But there was no response from the body he held in his arms. The feeling of tenderness died in him like a flower withered in a drought. Damn it all, he thought savagely, as, feeling a complete fool, he let her go and stood silently beside her, what can the woman be made of? It had been like kissing a block of wood, even though she was softer.

      It was Miss Silvers who broke the uncomfortable silence.

      ‘I suppose I should feel flattered,’ she said, and her voice was cool and calm, ‘but I don’t. Now, if you’ve quite finished, I’ll go. Good night.’

       CHAPTER VIII

       A Shot in the Dark

      She turned and left him standing there. He had never felt more deflated in his life. The thought uppermost in his baffled mind was that it was as if she had been experimenting with his emotions and her own – if she had any – as coolly and detachedly as if she’d been in her damned laboratory. Was she all scientist, he asked himself, this woman who was unlike anyone he had met before, or was there flesh and blood and a heart in her as well as a brain? He had thought so once or twice in the mine, but to have tried him out like a guinea pig – that was insufferable.

      Roy swore, and kicked furiously at a broken branch. Angus, who had stood patiently by during all this, went haring off into the bushes after it. Roy set off towards the chalet. Well, he reflected, he’d take damned good care he didn’t make a fool of himself again, or give her the opportunity of making him one. It was incredible that a woman so physically attractive as she was could be so cold and indifferent. Or perhaps he just wasn’t her type, if she had a type. Maybe she’d thought he’d just been trying to get fresh with her and resented it in the only way she could without making a scene. Somehow he felt she would dread scenes. Oh, hell, Roy my boy, forget it, he told himself.

      He tried to do so all the way back to the chalet, but could not forget the feel of her body in his arms and the touch of her lips on his, cool and impersonal though they had been. Jim Tailby would certainly have had a laugh if he’d been there to see what happened and if he knew how he was still thinking about her. He would have twitted him unmercifully. What was it he had said – ‘Mark my words, one of these days you’ll fall good and proper. You’ll pick up some nice girl somewhere and you’ll find you can’t put her down.’

      Well, Roy reflected bitterly, it certainly hadn’t been a case of his putting Miss Silvers down. The boot had been on the other foot. She’d done it to him in very decided fashion and he hadn’t liked it one little bit. He had a sneaking feeling, too, that Jim would hardly approve of the way in which he was thinking of Miss Silvers now. He would probably regard it as a danger sign. Perhaps it was. He was surprised to find that, despite the rebuff, he didn’t care. After all, he’d been in some pretty dangerous spots before – but, he had to admit, none quite like this.

      Angus broke into his train of thought by yelping excitedly as they neared the chalet.

      ‘Shut