«I know,» said Bond encouragingly.
«So I applied and my fare was paid down to London and I met Miss Bunt and she put me through some sort of exam.» She giggled. «Heaven only knows how I passed it, as I failed my G.C.E. twice. But she said I was just what the Institute wanted and I came out here about two months ago. It’s not bad. They’re terribly strict. But the Count has absolutely cured my trouble. I simply love chickens now.» Her eyes became suddenly rapt. «I think they’re just the most beautiful, wonderful birds in the world.»
«Well, that’s a jolly good show,» said Bond, totally mystified. «Now about your name. I’ll get to work on it right away. But how are we going to talk? You all seem to be pretty carefully organized. How can I see you by yourself? The only place is my room or yours.»
«You mean at night?» The big blue eyes were wide with fright, excitement, maidenly appraisal.
«Yes, it’s the only way.» Bond took a bold step towards her and kissed her full on the mouth. He put his arms round her clumsily. «And you know I think you’re terribly attractive.»
«Oh, Sir Hilary!»
But she didn’t recoil. She just stood there like a great lovely doll, passive, slightly calculating, wanting to be a princess. «But how would you get out of here? They’re terribly strict. A guard goes up and down the passage every so often. Of course» – the eyes were calculating – «it’s true that I’m next door to you, in Number Three actually. If only we had some way of getting out.»
Bond took one of the inch strips of plastic out of his pocket and showed it to her. «I knew you were somewhere close to me. Instinct, I suppose. [Cad!] I learned a thing or two in the Army. You can get out of these sort of doors by slipping this in the door crack in front of the lock and pushing. It slips the latch. Here, take this, I’ve got another. But hide it away. And promise not to tell anyone.»
«Ooh! You are a one! But of course I promise. But do you think there’s any hope – about the Windsors, I mean?» Now she put her arms round his neck, round the witchdoctor’s neck, and the big blue orbs gazed appealingly into his.
«You definitely mustn’t rely on it,» said Bond firmly, trying to get back an ounce of his self-respect. «But I’ll have a quick look now in my books. Not much time before drinks. Anyway, we’ll see.» He gave her another long and, he admitted to himself, extremely splendid kiss, to which she responded with an animalism that slightly salved his conscience. «Now then, baby.» His right hand ran down her back to the curve of her behind, to which he gave an encouraging and hastening pat. «We’ve got to get you out of here.»
His bedroom was dark. They listened at the door like two children playing hide-and-seek. The building was in silence. He inched open the door. He gave the behind an extra pat and she was gone.
Bond paused for a moment. Then he switched on the light. The innocent room smiled at him. Bond went to his table and reached for the Dictionary of British Surnames. Windsor, Windsor, Windsor. Here we are! Now then! As he bent over the small print, an important reflection seared his spy’s mind like a shooting star. All right. So sexual perversions, and sex itself, were a main security risk. So was greed for money. But what about status? What about that most insidious of vices, snobbery?
Six o’clock came. Bond had a nagging headache, brought on by hours of poring over small-print reference books and aggravated by the lack of oxygen at the high altitude. He needed a drink, three drinks. He had a quick shower and smartened himself up, rang his bell for the «warder» and went along to the bar. Only a few of the girls were already there. Violet sat alone at the bar and Bond joined her. She seemed pleased to see him. She was drinking a Daiquiri. Bond ordered another and, for himself, a double Bourbon on the rocks. He took a deep pull at it and put the squat glass down. «By God, I needed that! I’ve been working like a slave all day while you’ve been waltzing about the ski-slopes in the sun!»
«Have I indeed!» A slight Irish brogue came out with the indignation. «Two lectures this morning, frightfully boring, and I had to catch up with my reading most of this afternoon. I’m way behind with it.»
«What sort of reading?»
«Oh, sort of agricultural stuff.» The dark eyes watched him carefully. «We’re not supposed to talk about our cures, you know.»
«Oh, well,» said Bond cheerfully, «then let’s talk about something else. Where do you come from?»
«Ireland. The South. Near Shannon.»
Bond had a shot in the dark. «All that potato country.»
«Yes, that’s right. I used to hate them. Nothing but potatoes to eat and potato crops to talk about. Now I’m longing to get back. Funny, isn’t it?»
«Your family’ll be pleased.»
«You can say that again! And my boy friend! He’s on the wholesale side. I said I wouldn’t marry anyone who had anything to do with the damned, dirty, ugly things. He’s going to get a shock all right…»
«How’s that?»
«All I’ve learned about how to improve the crop. The latest scientific ways, chemicals, and so on.» She put her hand up to her mouth. She glanced swiftly round the room, at the bartender. To see if anyone had heard this innocent stuff?
She put on a hostess smile. «Now you tell me what you’ve been working on, Sir Hilary.»
«Oh, just some heraldic stuff for the Count. Like I was talking about at lunch. I’m afraid you’d find it frightfully dry stuff.»
«Oh no, I wouldn’t. I was terribly interested in what you were saying to Miss Bunt. You see» – she lowered her voice and spoke into her raised glass – «I’m an O’Neill. They used to be almost kings of Ireland. Do you think…» She had seen something over his shoulder. She went on smoothly, «And I simply can’t get my shoulders round enough. And when I try to I simply over-balance.»
«‘Fraid I don’t know anything about skiing,» said Bond loudly.
Irma Bunt appeared in the mirror over the bar. «Ah, Sair Hilary.» She inspected his face. «But yes, you are already getting a little of the sunburn, isn’t it? Come! Let us go and sit down. I see poor Miss Ruby over there all by herself.»
They followed her meekly. Bond was amused by the little undercurrent of rule-breaking that went on among the girls – the typical resistance pattern to strict discipline and the governessy ways of this hideous matron. He must be careful how he handled it, useful though it was proving. It wouldn’t do to get these girls too much «on his side». But, if only because the Count didn’t want him to know them, he must somehow ferret away at their surnames and addresses. Ferret! That was the word! Ruby would be his ferret. Bond sat down beside her, the back of his hand casually brushing against her shoulder.
More drinks were ordered. The Bourbon was beginning to uncoil Bond’s tensions. His headache, instead of occupying his whole head, had localized itself behind the right temple. He said, gaily, «Shall we play the game again?»
There was a chorus of approval. The glass and paper napkins were brought from the bar and now more of the girls joined in. Bond handed round cigarettes and the girls puffed vigorously, occasionally choking over the smoke. Even Irma Bunt seemed infected by the laughter and squeals of excitement as the cobweb of paper became more and more tenuous. «Careful! Gently, Elizabeth! Ayee! But now you have done it! And there was still this little corner that was safe!»
Bond was next to her. Now he sat back and suggested that the girls should have a game among themselves. He turned to Fraulein Bunt. «By the way, if I can find the time, it crossed my mind that it might be fun to go down in the cable car and pay a visit to the valley. I gathered from talk among the crowds today that St Moritz is the other side of the valley. I’ve never been there. I’d love to see it.»