Page 56 of Fire Must Burn

‘And I believe he was telling the truth about not being behind the attempt on Mr Danforth’s life.’

‘So do I,’ said Iris, starting to walk.

‘You almost sound disappointed,’ commented Gwen, joining her.

‘It would have simplified things,’ said Iris. ‘God, I want a drink right now. Several, to be precise. I need complete obliteration.’

‘Come back to my place,’ said Gwen. ‘I have the means necessary.’

‘So does the nearest pub, and I can get there sooner.’

‘You shouldn’t be drinking alone, and you shouldn’t be going to a pub to get soused right now,’ said Gwen. ‘You’ll either end up in a brawl or going to bed with a complete stranger.’

‘What if I get to know him first?’

‘Come with me, Iris,’ said Gwen firmly. ‘You’ve been off your stride ever since this mission was shoved into our lives. We will delve into my personal supplies, and if you pass out, it will be in my guest room, not a public house.’

‘What if I get into a brawl with you?’

‘I’ve been training,’ said Gwen. ‘I might be a match for you if you’re drunk.’

‘Doubt it.’

‘So do I. But it’s a better idea for you to be drinking with me, so come on. We’ll pick up some dinner on the way home.’

‘I have no appetite.’

‘You will by the time we get there.’

They stopped by an Indian restaurant to pick up a couple of curries, then caught a cab to Maida Vale. It was past eight o’clock when they walked through Gwen’s front door. Millie, her housekeeper, appeared from the upper landing.

‘Good evening, Mrs Bainbridge, Miss Sparks,’ she called. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘We’re fine, Millie,’ replied Gwen.

‘But she may need help carrying me up the stairs later,’ added Iris.

‘I’ll check back before I turn in,’ said Millie.

‘You don’t mind eating in the kitchen, do you?’ asked Gwen as they hung up their coats. ‘It’s more convenient and our conversation is less likely to travel upstairs.’

‘Fine with me.’

Iris followed Gwen to the rear of the house, then sat at the small kitchen table while her partner busied herself fetching plates, bowls and spoons.

‘I prefer G&Ts with my curry,’ said Gwen, pulling a bottle of Gordon’s from the refrigerator. ‘Especially during the summer months. Will that do the trick?’

‘As long as the ratio favours the gin,’ said Iris.

‘And look!’ said Gwen holding up a precious lime. ‘We will ward off malaria and scurvy simultaneously.’

She fetched a chunk of ice from the freezer, put it in a steel bucket, then handed it to Iris along with an ice pick.

‘Take out your frustrations on this,’ suggested Gwen.

Within seconds, Iris reduced the chunk to fragments, her face glistening from the spatter. Gwen scooped several pieces into a pair of tumblers, added a sliver of lime to each, poured the gin well past the halfway level, then added the tonic, pouringit over a bar spoon. She gave each drink a single stir, then placed one at each end of the table.

‘To Tony Danforth,’ she said, raising hers. ‘May he live through the night, and long after.’