John Gardner - Nobody Lives for Ever

Outside, the padrone stood, at the rear of the British racing green Mulsanne Turbo, waiting patiently with the luggage. From the corner of his eye, Bond spotted Steve Quinn’s man, who had been standing above the rocks, begin to saunter casually back along the cars towards the Renault. He did not even look in Bond’s direction, but kept his head down, as though searching for something on the ground. He was tall, with the face of a Greek statue that had been exposed to much time and weather.

Bond contrived to keep Sukie between himself and the car, reaching forward from behind her to unlock the boot. When the luggage was stowed, they shook hands with the padrone with due solemnity, and Bond escorted Sukie to the front passenger side.

‘I want you to fasten the seatbelt, then keep your hands in sight on the dashboard,’ he said with a smile.

At the end of the line of cars the Renault’s engine started up. Bond settled in the driving seat of the Bentley.

‘Sukie, please don’t do anything stupid. I promise that I can act much faster than you. Don’t make me do anything I might regret.’

She smiled coyly. ‘I’m the hostage. I know my place. Don’t worry.’

They backed out, headed up the ramp and seven minutes later crossed the Italian frontier without incident.

‘If you haven’t noticed, there’s a car behind us.’ Sukie’s voice wavered slightly.

‘That’s right.’ Bond smiled grimly. ‘They’re babysitting us, but I don’t want that kind of protection. We’ll throw them off eventually.’

She nodded.

He had told her that Nannie would have to be handled carefully. She should not be told anything except that she could go on to Rome under her own steam. Plans had changed and they had to get to Salzburg in a hurry. ‘Leave it to her. Let her make up her own mind. Be apologetic, but try to put her off. Follow me?’

There was a lot of activity going on around the Madonna della Pietà when they arrived. Standing by a small suitcase, looking supremely elegant, was a very tall young woman with hair the colour of a moonless night, pulled back into a severe bun. She wore a patterned cotton dress which the breeze caught for a second, blowing it against her body to reveal the outline of long, slim thighs, rounded belly and well-proportioned hips. She grinned as Sukie called her over to the passenger side of the car. ‘Oh, how super! A Bentley. I adore Bentleys.’

‘Nannie, meet James. We have a problem.’

She explained the situation, just as Bond had instructed her. All the time, he watched Nannie’s calm face – the rather thin features, the dark grey eyes peering out brightly, through granny glasses, full of intelligence. Her eyebrows were unfashionably plucked, giving the attractive features a look of almost permanent sweet expectation.

‘Well, I’m easy,’ Nannie said in a low-pitched drawl, giving the impression that she did not believe a word of Sukie’s tale. ‘It’s a holiday after all – Rome or Salzburg, it matters not. Anyway, I adore Mozart.’

Bond felt vulnerable out in the open, and could not allow the chattering to continue long. His tone implied urgency.

‘Are you coming with us, Nannie?’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Nannie had the door open, but Bond stopped her.

‘Luggage in the boot,’ he said a little sharply, then very quietly to Sukie, ‘Hands in sight, like before. This is too important for games.’

She nodded and placed her hands above the dashboard, as Bond got out and watched Nannie Norrich put her case into the boot.

‘Shoulder bag as well, please.’ He smiled his most charming smile.

‘I’ll need it on the road. Why . . .’

‘Please, Nannie, be a good girl. The problems Sukie told you about are serious. I can’t have any luggage in the car. When the time comes, I’ll check your bag and let you have it back. Okay?’

She gave a curious little worried turn of the head, but did as she was told. The Renault, Bond noticed, was parked ahead of them, engine idling. Good, they thought he planned to go on through Italy.

‘Nannie, we’ve only just met and I don’t want you to get any ideas, but I have to be slightly indelicate,’ he said quietly. There were a lot of people around, but what he had to do was unavoidable. ‘Don’t struggle or yell at me. I have to touch you, but I promise you, I’m not taking liberties.’

He ran his hands expertly over her body, using his fingertips and trying not to make it embarrassing for her. He talked as he went through the quick frisk. ‘I don’t know you, but my life’s at risk, so if you get into the car you’re also in danger. As a stranger you could also be dangerous to me. Do you understand?’

To his surprise, she smiled at him. ‘Actually, I found that rather pleasant. I don’t understand, but I still liked it. We should do it again sometime. In private.’

They settled back in the car and he asked Nannie to fasten her seat belt as there would be fast driving ahead. He started the engine again and waited for the right amount of space in the traffic. Then he put the Bentley into reverse, spun the wheel, banged at the accelerator and brake, and slewed the car backwards into a skid, bringing the rear around in a half circle. He roared off, cutting in between a creeping Volkswagen and a truck load of vegetables – much to the wrath of the drivers.

Through the mirror he could see that the Renault had been taken by surprise. He increased speed as soon as the Bentley was through the restricted zone, and began to take the bends and winds of the lakeside road at a dangerous speed.

At the frontier he told the guards that he thought they were being followed by brigands, making much of his diplomatic passport, which he always carried for emergencies. The carabinieri were suitably impressed, called him Eccellenza , bowed to the ladies, and promised to question the occupants of the Renault with vigour.

‘Do you always drive like that?’ Nannie asked from the rear. ‘I suppose you do. You strike me as a fast cars, horses and women kind of fellow. Action man.’

Bond did not comment. Violent man, he thought, concentrating on the driving and leaving Sukie and Nannie to slip into talk of schooldays, parties and men.

There were some difficulties on the journey, particularly when his passengers wanted to use women’s rooms. Twice during the afternoon they stopped at service areas, and Bond positioned the car so that he had a full view of the pay telephones and the women’s room doors. He let them go one at a time, making pleasantly veiled threats as to what would happen to the one left in the car should the other do anything foolish. His own bladder had to be kept under control. Just before starting the long mountainous drive into Austria, they stopped at a roadside café and had some food. It was here that Bond took the chance of leaving the other two alone.

When he returned they both looked entirely innocent and even seemed surprised when he took a couple of benzedrine tablets with his coffee.

‘We were wondering . . .’ Nannie began.

‘Yes?’

‘We were wondering what the sleeping arrangements are going to be when we stop for the night. I mean, you obviously can’t let us out of your sight . . .’

‘You sleep in the car. I drive. There’ll be no stopping at hotels. This is a one-hop run . . .’

‘Very Chinese,’ Sukie muttered.

‘. . . and the sooner we get to Salzburg, the sooner I can release you. The local police will take charge of things after that.’

Nannie spoke up, level-voiced, the tone almost one of admonition. ‘Look, James, we hardly know one another, but you have to understand that, for us, this is a kind of exciting adventure – something we only read about in books. It’s obvious that you’re on the side of the angels, unless our intuition’s gone seriously wrong. Can’t you confide in us just a little? We might be more help to you if we knew some more . . .’