Dragon's Lair Read Free Page A

lift on its way to street level.
    She was recalled abruptly back to the present as a child's coloured
    ball bounced towards her and she instinctively put out a foot to stop
    it. She stood quite still for a moment, assimilating her surroundings,
    and telling herself that these things were all in the past now and
    could only have the power to hurt her if she allowed them to. But
    her eyes were stinging suddenly and she fumbled in her handbag for
    her dark glasses, insisting to herself that it was only the sunlight
    that was too strong.
    She was dazzled now, as she'd been dazzled then, and as she
    walked on, the words, 'Too trusting. Too trusting ...' began to sound
    a bitter knell in her tired brain.
    In the end, she took another taxi and went back to the office. The
    publishing firm of Hanson Greer was situated in a quiet street not
    far from the Post Office Tower. She pushed open the glass door and
    went in with a smile for the receptionist in her panelled cubicle. She
    accepted a list of the people who had telephoned her during her
    absence and took the lift up to her office.
    Her mother had not wanted her to work here, yet at the time it had
    seemed a perfectly logical thing to do. Her father had been a
    director of the firm until his death, and if she had been a boy, it
    would have been quite natural for her to follow him into publishing.
    And this was supposed to be the age of equal opportunities, so ...
    Besides, Uncle Philip's offer of a job had come just when she
    needed it most—when she was looking round desperately for
    something to fill this emotional vacuum inside herself, and she had
    seized it with relief.
    She knew the reason for her mother's opposition, of course. She
    was terrified that Davina would be brought into contact with
    Gethyn again through her work. But it hadn't happened. For one
    thing, as far as she had known until today Gethyn was still in
    America, teaching creative writing at some New England college.
    And for another, in the two years they had been apart, he had
    apparently not produced another manuscript of his own. While he
    had been in the States, he had written the screenplay for the
    successful film of his first book, A Power for Good , but no new
    work had been forthcoming from him, and although he had never
    discussed it with her, Davina knew this had been a major
    disappointment for her uncle.
    She went into her small room and sat down with a sigh, her eyes
    fixed absently on the scrap of paper in her hand. She really ought to
    make a start on returning these calls. One of them at least would
    probably be urgent. But the names and numbers kept dancing
    meaninglessly in front of her eyes, and eventually she dropped the
    piece of paper impatiently into her in-tray to await her attention in
    the morning.
    Her door opened and the smooth fair head of Jan Preston, her
    uncle's secretary, appeared.
    'Oh, you are back,' she exclaimed in surprise. 'I've been trying to get
    you at home. Mr Greer would like a word with you.'
    Davina groaned inwardly. For a moment she toyed with the idea of
    asking Jan to forget she had seen her while she made her escape,
    but she soon abandoned it. Jan was a pleasant woman, but she was
    simply not on those kind of terms with her. So instead she smiled
    and murmured her thanks, promising she would be along presently.
    When Jan vanished, she got up and walked the few paces to the
    window. There was little to see but a patch of sky framed by other
    people's roofs, and the odd pigeon or two, but when she had first
    come there, she had spent a lot of time staring out at that limited
    view until she felt she knew every slate and every Victorian
    chimneypot.
    Her fingers drummed restlessly on the white-painted sill. She knew
    why Uncle Philip wanted to see her, of course. He knew precisely
    where she had been that afternoon, and could presumably restrain
    his curiosity no longer.
    She supposed she could not blame him under the circumstances.
    After all, the other party