Maxwell’s Movie Read Online Free PDF Page B

system, the flimsiness of the files.
    ‘Where are you, Ronnie,’ he muttered to himself, ‘you annoying little shit?’

3
    Peter Maxwell’s feet were on the pouffe and his knees were under the table; the former literally, the latter metaphorically. Sylvia Matthews, the school nurse at Leighford High, didn’t usually entertain strange men on Thursdays. And they didn’t come much stranger than Peter Maxwell.
    He’d grabbed a lift with Ben Horton, pretending to be vaguely interested in the man of science’s verdict on the SAT paper for Year Nine. Then he’d fed Metternich the cat, soaked himself for half an hour in the bath, steeped in Radox, and saddled White Surrey for the twenty-minute ride to Sylvia’s flat.
    She’d welcomed him with his usual Southern Comfort and let him take off his shoes on the strict understanding that one sign of a hole in his socks and the brogues would be back on again. Odd for a nurse, to have a thing about feet. He’d partaken gratefully of her cheesecake and sat back on the sofa, his eyes closed, his hands clasped round his glass.
    ‘This is an honour.’ She brought through the cafetiere and two cups on a tray.
    ‘What is?’ He didn’t open his eyes.
    ‘A visit from you.’
    He opened his eyes. ‘Pressure of work,’ he said. ‘Oh, by the way,’ he reached into his cardigan pocket, ‘for you.’
    She put the tray down and took the brown-wrapped box, frowning. ‘Maxie,’ she said, ‘you remembered.’
    He wagged a finger at her, laughing. ‘Now, careful, Sylv,’ he said, ‘that Celia Johnson is frighteningly good. Any minute now, I’ll just have to give you my full-blown Trevor Howard and then we’re all in trouble.’
    She reached across with the perfume he’d given her and pecked him on the forehead. It was as close as she dared get to Peter Maxwell, the man she loved. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled, ‘you shouldn’t have. Although I suppose you’d say that’s a cliché.’
    ‘
Au contraire
, Matron mine,’ Maxwell said, ‘that’s a gospel fact. Have you seen the price of that stuff lately? I suppose it’s because it’s tested on humans. No, seriously, Sylv, it’s just a little something for leading me away from death’s door the other day.’
    ‘It’s nothing that any highly trained member of a caring profession wouldn’t have done,’ she said, suddenly afraid she’d dropped a few too many negatives in there. She was always afraid of these things with Maxie; not that he’d ever upbraided her or even commented on an infinitive more split than a raspberry.
    ‘No, no,’ Maxwell said, ‘it was beyond the call.’
    ‘Well, that’s because …’ and she stopped herself in mid-sentence. In mid-hope. ‘Coffee?’ One day she’d tell him. One day when she stopped being a stupid little girl in his presence. One day she’d tell him the truth, blurt it all out. But she daren’t. She daren’t in case he turned his back and made his excuses and left. One day would come one day. But for now, there was coffee.
    ‘Thanks.’ He took the cup from her, having drained his glass.
    ‘Well, are you going to tell me or not?’ She curled up on the chair opposite him.
    ‘You rather pinched my line there, Nursie,’ he told her.
    She knew that look. The twinkling eyes. The wry smile.
    ‘You know I rely on you for all my gossip. Where’s Ronnie?’
    ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘you transparent old Head of Sixth Form! And I thought it was my cheesecake you couldn’t resist. Either that or my body …’ She bit her lip, hoping he hadn’t heard, hoping he’d move the conversation on, hoping the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
    ‘You’re the grapevine, Sylv.’ She was in the clear. ‘Countless urchins flock to your room every day with everything from period pains to paranoia. If you don’t know what’s happening at Leighford, nobody does.’
    ‘Well …’ she said, enjoying the moment, the power.
    He twisted his face, indulging the pregnancy of her