"Archer, Geoffrey - The Burma Legacy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Archer Geoffrey)

attracted to her immediately. By the end of his investigation they'd become
lovers.
She'd refused to join him in the Far East when the Intelligence Service
decided to re-base him there nearly a year ago - she valued her job too
much and had a young son whose stability and security she was determined
to preserve. So they'd continued the relationship at long distance, emails
and phone calls backed by a couple of visits, one in each direction. But
now Julie had laid it on the line - if they couldn't be together again soon
there was no point in going on. She hadn't said what had brought things to
a head, but he suspected it was Christmas - the fact that work hadn't
allowed him to return to England to spend it with her.
The flight landed a few minutes early, but by the time the baggage came
through it was well after 7.00 before he was on the road to London. A
bright January day, with frost coating the embankments along the
motorway. The cab driver was a chatty type, so Sam feigned sleep.
The flat where Julie lived and where Sam kept a few of his possessions
was in Ealing, to the west of the city. His half share of the rent allowed Julie
to live in more comfort than could be afforded on a Health Service salary.
Her main expense was eight-year old Liam, the outcome of a short-lived
college relationship. The boy lived with his grandmother in Suffolk, and
Julie went there at weekends.
For him the flat was a statement too. A token of his commitment to
returning to London and to her. It was in a large, converted Victorian
house near the green, with a grey slate roof and wide sash windows. Sam
paid off the driver, then pushed open the front door. Julie collided with
him. Late as usual, she was hurrying for the tube.
"God, I've missed you," she sighed, hooking her arms around him. He
hugged her tight, feeling for her body beneath the thick coat. Her wispy
brown hair smelled of rose petals. "Oh God ..." she moaned, pulling her
head back and looking at him hungrily.
"Another ten minutes wouldn't make you any later," Sam whispered.
"Yes it would. The professor's called a meeting for a quarter to nine. I'll
have to run all the way to the tube as it is."
"Tonight then."
I'll try to get back early."
They kissed like honeymooners, then she tore herself away and hurried
out of the door.
Sam entered the first floor flat. It was the only place in the world he
could call home. He glanced into the living room. A small, tinsel smothered
tree stood in the window bay, almost devoid of its needles, the
skeletal remains of the Christmas he'd missed. He walked into the
bedroom. The duvet had been hurriedly tossed aside, the bed left unmade.
When he'd left for the Far East, he and Julie had had a rational,
dispassionate discussion about sex. All very grown-up. But the thought that
some other man might have been rolling in these sheets with her made his
stomach twitch.
Sam Packer was tall and moderately stocky. His thick, dark hair had not
yet begun to grey. In Singapore he used a gym to keep in shape, but this
morning he felt spaced out. His body clock was seven hours ahead of
London, mid-afternoon instead of breakfast time. He unpacked his bag and