Fortune's Lead Read Free Page A

of the time, come to think of it.’ The twinkle was even more pronounced. ‘A very boorish young man. I apologize for him. I hope you took no notice of him—I never do. You see—’ he leaned forward confidentially, ‘he was brought up to be serious. Terrible, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes, terrible.’ Suddenly I couldn’t help grinning: Henry Thurlanger’s air of mischief was infectious.
    ‘Good. I thought you’d agree with me. We’ll forget about Kevin.’ A wave of the hand dismissed Kevin and everything about him. ‘Now, what shall I call you ?’
    ‘Charlotte.’
    ‘Pretty,’ he said approvingly. ‘But too long. I expect they call you Shah for short, don’t they? It suits you better. Charlotte’s such a very formal name. One should never be formal on trains—they’re quite gloomy enough already. Wouldn’t you say so?’
    ‘Very gloomy. And please do call me Shah.’ Smiling back at him, I was suddenly feeling an enormous lift of the heart, and with it a growing conviction that I was being picked up—Picked Up, by this small, smiley, mischievous-looking man who must be old enough to be my father. Whatever would Robert have said? I bit back a laugh, and said, ‘I hope I didn’t damage anything of yours when I fell over your luggage. It really was my fault.’
    ‘Those wretched rods. Quite impossible to pack properly. No, I’m sure you didn’t damage them. Anyway, it’s Archie’s fault for asking me to bring them down with me. He should have had them sent. Do you happen to know some people called Laird?’
    ‘No, I—I’m sure I don’t.’
    ‘Good. Then I can say what I like about them.’ He gave me his curly grin again, his grey eyes twinkling irrepressibly. ‘Dreadfully boring people. Relatives of mine. My nephew and I were spending a few days with them—my relations seem to expect me to tour them every so often, though I find it a regrettable exercise! And where are you off to, Shah?’
    ‘Hertfordshire,’ I said shortly, suddenly remembering that the family would go on being sympathetic with me about Robert, and feeling gloomy again.
    ‘Really? What’s taking you there? No, don’t tell me—let me guess. Ah—I know. The wedding of a school friend. And you’re to be bridesmaid. Am I right?’
    ‘No.’ He was making me want to laugh again, simply because he looked so cheerful. I tried fluttering my eyelashes at him, just to see if I could, and said demurely,
    ‘Guess again.’
    ‘Mm.’ He tilted his head to one side, regarding me. ‘It can’t be anything amusing. You were looking too sad. Now, what would make you sad, I wonder?’
    That was too noticing of him, even though his smile was still a teasing one. I said quickly, trying to sound light, ‘Why would a wedding be sad? Wouldn’t I have enjoyed being a bridesmaid?’
    ‘Ah, but you should have been the bride. Obviously. The young man changed his mind and chose your friend—plain but wealthy. You should never have introduced them. But then you weren’t to know he had no taste.’
    Henry seemed to be enjoying himself inventing an elaborate and brokenhearted background for me.
    ‘Quite distracting of him, but I think you’re well rid of him. Don’t you?’
    ‘Definitely,’ I said grimly, thinking of Robert, and then remembered that we weren’t talking about Robert at all but about an imaginary man who was about to marry an imaginary plain-but-wealthy friend of mine. It was an extraordinary conversation to be having with a stranger. I caught sight of my reflection in the window, and said defiantly, ‘Actually I’m on my way home from seeing a film producer. I was after a role in a kitchen sink drama, but he said I didn’t look the part!’
    ‘You certainly don’t, and I don’t like kitchen sink dramas. Too dreary,’ Henry said, accepting my story so calmly that I had a pang of horrified guilt. ‘So you’re an actress, are you? Tell me some more about yourself.’
    ‘I’m not—I—I mean—I’m not very