“There you are, Peacherine,” I said, “we were just talking about you.”
I was almost sorry to see she had a small black bruise each side of her jaw where I had tried to stop her talking in the cab. There was also a graze on her chin where I had hit her. And, what was worse, she looked as mad as a hornet in a paper bag.
Peppi was as startled as I was. He took her arm and stared at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She pushed him aside and came over to me. If there’s one thing that makes me nervous it’s a dame in a temper. You never know what they’re going to do. They might stab you with a hat pin or scratch your eyes out. They might try and make you bald. They might kick you. You just don’t know which way it’s coming.
I held up my hand, “Now, don’t bust your brassiere,” I said, hastily. “Remember your upbringing and act like a lady.”
She caught me a sizzler on the shin with her pointed shoe. “You heel!” she said, “I’ll kill you for what you did to me!” and back went her leg to post me another bone-crusher.
I caught her foot as it shot towards me and lifted it sharply. She sat down with a thud and I guess the jar cooled her fever. Anyway, she just sat there, her eyes snapping and her mouth twisted with pain.
As I got to my feet, someone grabbed me by my shoulder spun me round and I ran into a punch that sent me crashing into the table. I tried to get my balance, but couldn’t quite make it. The table and I went over on the floor.
I touched my chin with a grimace and looked at the guy who had hit me. He was one hundred per cent. muscle and brawn, with a face moulded on Epstein’s lines and a pair of shoulders as wide as a barn door.