Rosie Dixon - Confessions of a Lady Courier

‘Who are they?’ I whisper.

‘Our North African tour. They’re the first ones back.’ Jeremy shakes his head. ‘I suppose it was a bit ambitious really. Forty-eight tribes in seven days. Half of them had blood feuds against each other. I got a ransom note the other day.’

‘How awful!’ I murmur. ‘Are the family going to pay?’

Jeremy taps his briefcase. ‘They already have. I’m going to handle the drop myself – eventually. That’s why I’m in here. I don’t want anything to happen to the money.’ He nods towards his office. ‘Of course, I have tremendous sympathy with those people but I think my first duty is towards Abdul Ben Schmuk.’

‘Abdul Ben Schmuk?’ I say. ‘That sounds like an Arab name.’

‘It is an Arab name,’ says Jeremy. ‘He’s the one whose being held to ransom. Some of the people on the coach turned very nasty and said that they wouldn’t give him back unless we flew them home. We get some shocking troublemakers, sometimes, you know.’ Jeremy brushes the hair from his eyes and I feel really sorry for him. It must be a terrible responsibility running an organisation like this.

‘I know I’m very stupid,’ I say. ‘But how does the ransom money get to be in this country?’

‘It’s all invested here,’ says Jeremy, peering through the crack again. ‘It’s oil money. A lot of the Arabs invest over here, you know. Damn! They’re still not going. We’ll have to climb out of the window.’ He turns to me almost as an afterthought. ‘I take it you want the job?’

My heart leaps with excitement. Can he be serious? Jeremy misunderstands the reason for my hesitation. ‘You won’t have to go to North Africa. I was a fool to try and compete with those safari boys – especially with a double decker bus.’

‘It must have been very handy for looking over the sand dunes,’ I say.

Jeremy shakes his head admiringly. ‘I believe it was,’ he says. ‘Damn clever of you to pick up on a detail like that. You’d be a real asset to the company. It’s not often one comes across your mixture of extravagant beauty and stunning brainpower.’

I blush and look down into the toilet bowl before raising my eyes swiftly. Nobody has ever paid me a compliment like that before. I warm to the man immediately.

‘I’ll have to think it over,’ I say, ‘But I’m very interested.’

‘Capital!’ says Jeremy. ‘Stand on the seat and I’ll help you out on to the ledge. The fire escape is just round to the left. Don’t look down and mind out for that thing the window catch slots on to – oh, sorry!!’

When I think about it later, I must have been mad! But Jeremy does have a very strong personality. You need one in this business.

‘Now where?’ I say when we get to the bottom of the fire escape.

‘The Jag’s parked in the alley over there. You’d better come back to my place so I can show you the ropes.’

‘We could have done with some of the ropes just now, couldn’t we?’ I say.

Jeremy laughs agreeably. ‘You’re a funny little thing, aren’t you – well, not so little really.’ He looks at my boobs and I feel myself blushing again. If only I could take this kind of thing in my stride like Penny. Penny. I wonder if she has been in touch.

‘Has a girl called Penelope Green contacted you?’ I ask.

‘Saw her on Saturday,’ says Jeremy, gripping his briefcase tightly and striding purposefully into the alley. ‘And a bit of Sunday, too. Are you like her?’

I am so taken aback by the speed at which Penny has moved that I don’t answer for a moment. There is something almost underhand about it, considering that I saw the advertisement first. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Well – er, in some ways. We have worked together before.’

Jeremy nods. ‘Amazing girl. Very open. Refreshing attitude of life and what you can get out of it.’ He looks me up and down quickly and runs his tongue along his top lip. ‘I’m thinking of hiring her.’

‘Oh, good,’ I say, wishing that I could make it sound more sincere. ‘How many girls do you have altogether?’

‘It varies a lot,’ says Jeremy, stopping beside an immaculate scarlet XK12. ‘There’s a big turnover in staff in a business like this.’

I nod and look at the car. After the fairly ordinary office, I had not been expecting anything quite so glamorous. Of course, I am not the kind of girl whose head is turned by mere possessions but I can’t help being a little bit impressed.

‘What do you have in mind for me?’ I ask.

Jeremy looks deep into my eyes and produces an ignition key which he sheathes between finger and thumb. ‘Very much the same as for your friend Penny,’ he says. ‘Hop inside and I’ll tell you about it.’

Almost trembling with excitement, I steady the door that is held open for me and settle into one of the sculptured leather seats. I have read about thick pile carpets and walnut fascias in the advertisements but it is not often that I am exposed to them. ‘It’s lovely,’ I say.

Jeremy smiles and shrugs. ‘Not a bad old bus. It will do until the Citröen Maserati shows up.’

‘You must be doing awfully well,’ I say. ‘I would have thought that business was bad with all these tour operators going bust. Do the public still have confidence?’

‘It’s a question of pricing,’ says Jeremy, revealing lean, hairy wrists as he slips the Jag into gear. ‘A lot of people were sceptical about the cheaper holidays. They didn’t think we could do it for the money.’

‘So what did you do?’ I say.

‘We doubled the prices,’ says Jeremy cheerfully. ‘People felt much more secure once they were paying more.’

‘But it was the same holiday?’

‘Absolutely.’ Jeremy smiles at me and narrowly misses an old lady who is pushing a basket on wheels across a zebra crossing. ‘I hope you don’t mind me telling you all this? It’s just that I like to be totally frank with my staff – with everyone, in fact.’

‘It’s a very good policy,’ I say. ‘Are you going to have to deliver the ransom money today?’

‘Ransom money?’ Jeremy’s features perform a few gymnastics as he registers puzzlement quickly followed by distress. ‘Oh dear. I left the address in the office. I’ll have to do it tomorrow. I don’t expect another twenty-four hours will make a lot of difference.’ He smiles his perfect smile and I find it easy to agree with him. ‘Now, tell me. What are your languages like?’

Oh dear. This was the question I was dreading. ‘I speak a little bit of French,’ I say. ‘Un petit morceau.’

‘What?’

I feel myself blushing again. ‘Un petit morceau. A little bit.’

Jeremy’s face lightens. ‘Is that what it means? Jolly good! I don’t speak any of these foreign lingos myself. If these chaps want to do business with us, I reckon it’s up to them to learn English, what?’