I took a long gulp at the drink, and hurriedly put the glass on the counter. I clutched at my throat, coughed and closed my eyes. The stuff seemed to explode in my stomach, but a moment later I felt like I was sitting on a cloud.
“Phew! That stuff kind of sneaks up on you,” I said, when I could speak.
’Tom’s very proud of it,” she said, sipping her drink. “It’s wonderful! I feel it going right down to my toes.”
By the time we’d finished the green parrots we were behaving like we’d known each other for years.
“Let’s eat,” she said, sliding off the stool, and taking my arm. “Guillermo has a special dinner for you.” She squeezed my arm and smiled up at me. Her eyes were frankly inviting.
Guillermo was there to see us into our seats. Above us were the stars. A warm breeze came in from the sea. The orchestra was playing a dreamy melody, and trumpets rolled muted notes like balls of quicksilver, round and smooth. The food was as incredibly good as the wine that went with it. We didn’t have to bother to say what we wanted. The food came, we ate and marvelled at it.
Then we danced. The floor was not overcrowded, and we swept around in wide circles. It was like dancing with Ginger Rogers.
I was thinking that this was the best evening I’d ever spent when I spotted a thick-set man in a green gaberdine suit who was standing near the band. He had a flat, evil-looking puss, and he was watching me with a vicious gleam in his eyes. When he caught my eye, he turned abruptly and ducked out of sight behind a curtained exit.
Miss Wonderly had seen him, too. I felt the muscles in her back stiffen, and she missed step so I nearly stubbed her toes.
She broke away from me.