Robbie was completely nonplussed. He had no oil people he had to see, and he had been looking forward to a pleasant morning exploring the town with Stephanie, while other young men turned round to cast envious eyes at him for having such a charming companion. But he realized at once that, unless he played up to the role he had given himself, he could not expect her to continue to believe in it; so he said, a little lamely:
'Yes, I've got a few people I have to see. All right, then. By all means do your shopping. I'll be waiting for you here around one o'clock.'
Having taken his time bathing and dressing, he spent two rather boring hours mooching round the straight, arcaded streets and squares of the city. By half-past twelve, fed up with his aimless wandering, he turned back towards the Cecil. When he was within a hundred yards of it, a tall, thin man came out from the hotel entrance and, with rapid strides, approached him. With a sudden shock, he recognized the man as Vaclav Barak.
So unexpected was the encounter that Robbie instinctively lifted his right hand a few inches, on an impulse to raise his hat. Next moment, he was contemplating an abrupt about-turn as the only means of avoiding coming face to face with Barak. He need not have worried. When they had first come into contact at Toyrcolimano, Barak had not given Robbie even a glance and, when he had seen him again as a stooge at the Travel Agency, he had not bothered to take in his features.
The lean, dark Czech, with the black, hair-line moustache, strode past Robbie without appearing to notice him. But this encounter brought home one thing to Robbie, in no uncertain manner. However delightful he might find this new experience of basking in the smiles of a lovely girl like Stephanie, it was not for that he had come to Patras. He had much more important fish to fry, and it was quite time that he gave serious thought to them.
13
You Have Been Warned
For Robbie, running into Barak had been like receiving a pail of ice-cold water on the back after hours of blissful sunbathing. He had still not fully recovered from the shock by lunch time, and was so distrait that Stephanie asked him if he was feeling ill. He assured her that he was quite well, and took refuge in saying that a business meeting he had had that morning had been rather worrying.
During the past half hour, he had been upbraiding himself for not even having bothered to check up that the Bratislava was arriving at Patras on Monday. Instead of mooning about the streets while Stephanie did her shopping, he could have gone to the port to find out. Barak's presence in Patras suggested that he had come there to meet the ship. Now that Robbie's conscience had been aroused, he felt he ought to pay a visit to the docks to gather any information that he could; so, with considerable reluctance, he told Stephanie that he would have to make another business call after the siesta.
The port has three basins, linked by a broad promenade nearly a mile in length and protected by a long breakwater. Having no experience in making investigations, Robbie wasted some time enquiring of dockhands and numerous ships' officers, coming and going along the wharf, if they could tell him anything about the arrival of the Bratislava. None of them could, but one suggested that he should try the Port Authority, and there he eventually ran to earth a clerk who pointed out to him on a plan the berth that had been reserved for the Czech ship, and told him she was due in some time on Monday afternoon.
By the time he got back to the Cecil, it was well past six. As soon as he joined Stephanie in the lounge, she asked: 'How do you suggest that we spend the evening?'
'I hadn't really thought,' he smiled. 'What would you like to do? How about a cinema?'
She shook the crisp, chestnut curls. 'I'd much rather go dancing.'
'I . . .' he flushed slightly. 'I'm afraid I can't dance. I've never learned.'
Her dark eyebrows arched up into her smooth forehead. 'What an unusual person you are. Have you anything against dancing?'
'No; it's not that. It's just . . . just that I've spent my time doing other things; listening to music; learning languages and, more recently, doing a lot of reading.'
'Then it's quite time you did learn. As a matter of fact, I've made enquiries, and the hall-porter recommended a place called The Pigalle. It is a restaurant as well, of course; so we could have dinner there.'
Bewitched as he had already become by his delightful secretary, Robbie made no demur, although inwardly he felt considerable trepidation about attempting this new venture. An hour or so later, they took a taxi round to The Pigalle.
It had little resemblance to the famous Parisian establishment of that name. Few wealthy travellers visit Patras, or even tourists with holiday money to burn. Its patrons were local business men or ships' officers, the former with their wives or mistresses, and the latter being entertained by a number of not very glamorous dance hostesses. The lights were dim, the floor small and on two sides of the room there were a number of alcoves, to one of which, after a glance at Robbie's well-cut clothes, a head waiter led them.
The meal was passable although, as everywhere in Greece except in the very best hotels, rendered less appetizing by being served on near-cold plates. As against that, Robbie found the bottle of Achaia champagne that he had ordered surprisingly good. While by no means of the standard to which he was used at the Embassy, it was full of body without being sweet. A little fearful of the ordeal ahead, he fortified himself with several glasses, before letting Stephanie persuade him to take the floor.
If Stephanie had hoped to find in him a natural dancer, she was grievously disappointed. Although she danced well herself, and could have controlled a smaller man, Robbie's size and his being so much taller than she was made it very difficult for her to guide him. Moreover, although the quickness of his physical reactions had improved greatly since his boyhood, they were still markedly slower than those of a normal man.
Owing to his inexperience, he was quite unconscious of this, and gave himself up to the pleasure of holding Stephanie's well-made, yielding body against his own, delighting in the scent she had put on for the occasion, and smiling down into her upturned face. When he had seen other young men dancing with pretty girls he had often envied them, although it had never occurred to him to take a course of dancing lessons. Now, for the first time, he realized what a joy it could be and hardly noticed that, from time to time, they collided with other couples. Had it not been for his ear for music, his first attempt must have proved disastrous; but his ability to at least move his body in time to the rhythm enabled Stephanie to get him round the floor a dozen times, before she asked breathlessly to be taken back to their table.
Half an hour later, at his suggestion, they danced again. Afterwards^ he asked her cheerfully: 'Well! How £m I doing?'
She gave him a rueful smile. 'I'm afraid you are not exactly a born dancer, Robbie. Unfortunately, too, you're too tall for me to see over your shoulder to steer you. And you have got awfully large feet.'
As his face fell, she added quickly: 'Never mind. Perhaps you'll turn out to be a marvellous driver when you try your hand with the car.'
'But . . .' he began. 'I don't-'
'. . . don't mean to learn,' she finished for him, with a laugh. 'But you ought to, Robbie. I'm not trying to shirk my job, but every man ought to know how to drive a car, and there should be plenty of opportunities for me to teach you.'
'Well . . . yes ... thanks,' he stammered, again a little shaken at the speed with which this laughing, blue-eyed creature, unknown to him thirty-six hours ago, was opening up for him one new vista after another. 'Of course, you're right. I ought to have learned to drive a car ages ago.'