Tomorrow's ghost

Начало книги

After only a week of exposure to her, Gary the Messenger Boy was ready to die for Marilyn the Temporary Secretary, Frances judged. So it was his good fortune that the scenario did not envisage his role as being self-sacrificial.

'Any urgent letters. Miss?' he inquired, leaning hopefully over her desk as far as he dared. He had invented several extra collections a day since her arrival, and this was the first of them. The secretaries had never had better service.

Thank you, Gary.' Frances smiled at him and threw out Marilyn's chest for his entertainment as she sealed the first of Mr Cavendish's morning letters into their envelopes. The gratification of Gary's adolescent daydreams was not the worst thing she had ever done, if hardly the most admirable: it was simply the best and quickest way of doing what had to be done.

Thank you, Gary.' She offered him another smile with the sealed letters, leaning forward slightly as she did so. Although she lacked the measurements for a really spectacular view, the top three buttons had been carefully left undone to offer what there was.

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