Red Rainbow by G Johanson (top books of all time TXT) 📗

glimpse of the Love Phantom as she knocked on the door outside. He came out to the veranda and looked down without his mask on. He put it on by the time he opened the door to her, Hilaire realising that she felt no differently towards him. It was a fleeting, distant look. Maybe she was immune to it, just as she was to the false memories that infected so many others in relation to her sister. The Love Phantom invited her to take a seat alongside Patience. He poured out Chablis for both women and joked that he’d have his later, tricky to drink in a full-face mask. He was a charming host, especially under the circumstances. He quickly explained why he was so happy to see her.

“I had heard your name before and knew it was in connection to paranormal acts of resistance. I’ve done my homework since. Impressive stuff, and you’re not as ruthless as her. You have a line, I think.”

“So does she, it’s just very far from normal. I am sorry about what she did.” Hilaire realised the ambiguity of this line only after saying it. She meant she was sorry that Florence had drained his energy. It really wasn’t her apology to make, but she was willing to say the words and mean it as Florence never would, and it should never have happened. The small sip that Florence consumed from the Love Phantom and his lover was out of order. The larger, lethal quantity that Florence devoured from her 87 German victims was acceptable to Hilaire, who was not apologising for that.

“That makes one of you. I’m willing to talk to her again to try and resolve this because time is running out. Patience helped us out greatly with a spirit contact in the Milice only I blew the landing. We need a plan B quickly.”

“I’m willing to use my ability to help.”

“Thank you. The biggest favour you can do me is ask Florence to meet me on neutral ground. There’s a restaurant in a club I like to go to in town. I’ll be at Timbre Hearts at half six tomorrow.”

“Here or at our place would be safer,” Hilaire said, respectful in her response... out loud, anyway. It was a poor idea, to put it politely.

“Nowhere is safe at the moment. If she doesn’t want to show I’ll understand that, there is a risk attached. We’ll start with a clean slate if she shows.”

“I can’t advise her to do that in good conscience.”

“87 of our people will be killed by the Germans if she doesn’t meet me,” the Love Phantom said, applying pressure.

“I don’t see how a public meeting will stop that.” Plus, there was the small matter of Florence not caring about that. The price of her resistance being paid by others was not something she would concern herself with.

“I’m not setting her up, I promise. Trust me,” he implored.

The Love Phantom sounded sincere. That didn’t make this a good idea. “I’m not saying she’ll come or that I’ll even mention it to her. But if she did come, who would she ask for?”

“All she has to do is tell the maître d’ she has a reservation for two at half six. He’ll know it’s with me. They don’t let most people book that late. He’ll give her my name.”

Or you could tell me it now? Except that didn’t fit into his plan. The Love Phantom could plan away until his heart was content, but Florence was the ultimate rogue factor. Learning his name was a lure, an unnecessary one for dinner with him was bait enough for Florence to bite. While Hilaire had no dislike for him, his overconfidence concerned her. This was deep end stuff he was entering into, Florence not one to toy with.

“We’ll think about it.” That was as much as she could promise him right now. Florence would accept the invitation if she presented it to her. The trust that Hilaire wanted to feel was now tested – she did not want to doubt this man, and that was with his mask on, his full powers inhibited. The mask hid his face, not his feelings. He was disappointed. He’d expected a definite answer, a definite yes. He was used to having his own way; a maybe was a failure in his eyes. Hilaire left without making a decision, the Love Phantom telling her he would be at the club and would dine alone if need be with no hard feelings.

Chapter 10

Foundation vs Firmament

The Love Phantom had wined and dined many beautiful women at the nightclub – one in particular, the one that got away. Florence Pascoe was the least attractive dining companion he’d invited here, both inside and out. She’d come in plain clothes which she’d titivated to make more eye-catching. The blouse was a standard white – to make it more unusual, she had buttoned it way out of alignment (which he took as a bold sartorial choice – other diners likely thought she’d fucked up when she got dressed, which she had, but it was doubtless intentional). Her collar was upturned and stood up rigidly, likely starched. Her long dark skirt was slashed on the right side not far off her hip, a couple of safety pins keeping the material from revealing too much of her thigh as she moved. How to look odd with limited garments at your disposal.

The Love Phantom usually escorted his dates here. That was the done thing, plus he liked the whole picking them up and taking them home bit. Those best bits weren’t happening tonight. He was already at their table for two, one of the best tables in the club, against the wall with a central unobstructed view of the orchestra, providing nobody was on the dancefloor. He made an effort too, though was rarely seen out of designer suits. If his shirt was buttoned incorrectly, it was an accident.

The Love