love scenes aside, finding them oddly disturbing. She would have to think about them when it came time to put them into the script, of course, but love scenes were usually visual things and they would be quickly done. Until then she would forget them and the strange feeling of disquiet they gave her.
The bell rang and she ran down the single flight of stairs to the front door. Her flat was in a mews, above what had once been stables for a large house on the main road that had been converted into luxury apartments fifty years ago. The stables were now used to garage cars but Nell had been living in the flat above for the last two years. She opened the door and was taken aback to see a figure that looked as if it had escaped from the latest robot-cop movie. Dressed all in black leather motorcycle gear and with a helmet with the visor down, the man was so tall he towered over her.
He had half turned away but looked round as the door opened. He lifted his hand as if to raise the visor but it must have been merely to shield his eyes from the sun. His voice was muffled and he said after a moment, ‘Miss Marsden?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve called to collect a parcel.’
Reluctantly she held the envelope out to him. ‘You will be careful with it, won’t you?’
Looking at the powerful black motorbike that stood at the kerb, she noticed that there were no panniers showing the name of the company as she’d seen on all the other messenger-service bikes that were forever weaving their way through the London traffic. She went to ask the man where he meant to put it for safety, but he had already unzipped the front of his leather jacket and was putting the envelope inside.
‘Are you sure it will be all right there?’ He nodded, but she was by no means reassured and said sharply, ‘I hope your company’s insured, because if you lose it I’ll sue.’
The messenger, so intimidating in his faceless blackness, looked down at her for a moment, making Nell feel physically weak and helpless, a sensation she didn’t like, but then he lifted a hand, whether in farewell or acknowledgement she couldn’t tell, put his legs astride the powerful machine, and roared off down the cobbled road.
Nell was at Max’s office promptly on Monday morning but Benet Rigby was late. It was almost ten before he appeared, and by then Nell was annoyed enough to notice only that he looked untidy, as if he’d thrown his clothes on, and that he needed a shave. Or maybe it was supposed to be designer stubble. If it was it didn’t suit him, she thought crossly.
But at least he apologised, if somewhat brusquely. ‘Sorry I’m late. Domestic crisis.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Max answered in what Nell felt was an ingratiating tone. ‘This is Nell Marsden, who had the brilliant idea of adapting the book.’
‘Hello.’
‘How do you do?’ Nell returned primly, still annoyed, and was rather surprised to have her hand taken in a firm grip and to be looked over by a pair of quizzical grey eyes as it was shaken. Max didn’t bother to introduce Ben to her. ‘Did you receive the book all right?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Of course.’
Her relief was tainted by the amusement in his answer, as if he thought her a silly, fussing female. Turning to Max, she said, ‘Have you got an office in mind for us?’
‘Yes, a couple of floors up. This way.’
They all got into the small lift, Nell standing next to Ben. She was wearing her high heels today which gave her several extra inches and usually allowed her to look most men near enough in the eye, but even so she only came up to his shoulder. She sighed inwardly, wondering if he was the kind of man who would use his extra height, as well as his masculinity and his extra experience, to try to browbeat her. Well, he’d soon find that his extra foot wouldn’t do him any good, Nell thought determinedly, then almost laughed aloud at the mental image that thought conjured up.
Her eyes were still bright with inner laughter when they walked into the office. Ben’s gaze swept round it and then turned towards her, but he stopped what he was going to say and instead lifted a questioning eyebrow when he saw her face. ‘What’s funny?’
She shook her head. ‘Private joke.’
The office was equipped with a couple of desks holding word processors, a central table, filing cabinet and a leather settee against the far wall. It was well lit, too, with lamps on the desks and a large window that caught the morning sunlight. ‘This is great.’ She turned to Max and smiled. ‘Thanks for arranging it.’
‘My pleasure. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.’
‘How about a phone?’ Ben suggested.
‘Well, I can get one put in if you really want one, but I thought you’d rather not be interrupted. You can always use the phone in my office if—’
‘I’d prefer a phone in here,’ Ben insisted.
His assumption that she’d go along with his wishes angered Nell. ‘I’m quite happy to do without one.’
Ben didn’t say anything, just glanced at her, then at Max.
‘I’ll have one put in straight away,’ Max said. ‘Anything else?’
‘Paper. Pencils,’ Nell said, not to be outdone. ‘A kettle to make coffee.’
‘All in the cupboard and drawers.’
‘A “Do not disturb” sign,’ Ben added with what Nell thought was a faintly mocking grin.
Max laughed. ‘Of course. I’ll find one for you.’ He rubbed his nose enthusiastically. ‘OK, then, I’ll leave you two to it. Keep me posted how you’re getting along and we’ll talk over the first draft of the first episode as soon as you come up with it.’
His going left behind him a silence that Nell didn’t find comfortable. Determined to be businesslike, she took off her jacket and hung it on the stand. ‘I’ll take the desk nearest the window, shall I?’ And she moved towards it.
But Ben shook his head. ‘No, let’s rearrange the place.’ He walked several times round the room, like a dog exploring a new kennel, looked out of the window and adjusted the sun-blinds. Max’s assistant came in with the phone and found himself helping Ben to move the furniture around. When they’d finished the settee was under the window and the two desks were in the middle of the room with their backs to each other. The phone was put on one of the desks, the one on which Ben dropped his briefcase.
Nell had been leaning against the wall, out of the way, watching with her arms folded, her indignation growing. ‘Happy now?’ she asked sardonically when they were alone again.
Ben shrugged. ‘We’ll have to see how it works. If we’re not satisfied with the arrangement we can always change it again.’
‘We?’ Again her tone was sardonic.
Ben’s eyes flicked at her and she braced herself for an argument, but he ducked it, merely saying, ‘As I said, if you don’t like it this way when we’ve given it a try, we’ll move the stuff around again until we get it right. Is that what you wanted me to say?’
‘No. I’d like to have heard you ask my opinion before
