Memories of Misnight by Sidney Sheldon

“Miss Alexander…”

Catherine looked up, startled, unfocused.

The pilot was standing over her. “We’ve landed. Welcome to London.”

There was a limousine waiting for Catherine at the airport. The chauffeur said, “I’ll arrange for your luggage, Miss Alexander. My name is Alfred. Would you like to go directly to your flat?”

My flat. “Yes, that will be fine.”

Catherine sank back in her seat. Unbelievable. Constantin Demiris had arranged a private plane for her, and a place to live. He was either the most generous man in the world, or…She simply could not think of any alternative. No. He’s the most generous man in the world. I’ll have to find a suitable way to show my appreciation.

The flat, on Elizabeth Street off Eaton Square, was utterly luxurious. It consisted of a large entrance hall, a beautifully furnished drawing room with a crystal chandelier, a paneled library, a kitchen stocked with food, three attractively furnished bedrooms, and servants’ quarters.

Catherine was greeted at the door by a woman in her forties wearing a black dress. “Good afternoon, Miss Alexander. I am Anna. I am your housekeeper.”

Of course. My housekeeper. Catherine was beginning to take it all in stride. “How do you do?”

The chauffeur brought Catherine’s suitcases in and placed them in her bedroom. “The limousine is at your disposal,” he told her. “Just tell Anna when you’re ready to go to the office, and I will pick you up.”

The limousine is at my disposal. Naturally. “Thank you.”

Anna said, “I’ll unpack your bags. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

“I can’t think of a thing,” Catherine said honestly.

Catherine wandered around the flat until Anna had finished unpacking. She went into the bedroom and looked at the beautiful new dresses that Demiris had bought her, and thought: All this is like a wonderful dream. There was a feeling of total unreality about it. Forty-eight hours ago, she had been watering rose bushes at the convent. Now she was living the life of a duchess. She wondered what the job would be like. I’ll work hard. I don’t want to let him down. He’s been so wonderful. She felt suddenly tired. She lay down on the soft, comfortable bed. I’ll just rest a minute, she thought. She closed her eyes.

She was drowning, and screaming for help. And Larry was swimming toward her, and when he reached her he pushed her under water. And she was in a dark cave, and bats were coming at her, tearing at her hair, beating their clammy wings against her face. Catherine awakened with a shuddering start and sat up in bed, trembling.

She took deep breaths to steady herself. That’s enough, she thought. It’s over. That was yesterday. This is today. No one’s going to hurt you. No one. Not anymore.

Outside Catherine’s bedroom, Anna, the housekeeper, had been listening to the screams. She waited a moment, and when there was silence she walked down the hall and picked up the telephone to report to Constantin Demiris.

The Hellenic Trade Corporation was located at 217 Bond Street, off Piccadilly, in an old government building that had been converted years earlier to an office building. The exterior of the building was a masterpiece of architecture, elegant and graceful.

When Catherine arrived, the office staff was waiting for her. There were half a dozen people near the door to greet her.

“Welcome, Miss Alexander. I’m Evelyn Kaye. This is Carl…Tucker…Matthew…Jennie…”

The names and faces became a blur.

“How do you do?”

“Your office is ready for you. I’ll show you the way.”

“Thank you.”

The reception room was tastefully furnished, with a large Chesterfield sofa, flanked by two Chippendale chairs and a tapestry. They walked down a long carpeted corridor and passed a conference room with heavy pine paneling and leather chairs along a highly polished table.

Catherine was ushered into an attractive office with worn, comfortable furniture and a leather couch.

“It’s all yours.”

“It’s lovely,” she murmured.

There were fresh flowers on the desk.

“From Mr. Demiris.”

He’s so thoughtful.

Evelyn Kaye, the woman who had shown her into the office, was a stocky middle-aged woman with a pleasant face and a comfortable manner. “It will take you a few days to get used to the place, but the operation is really quite simple. We’re one of the nerve centers of the Demiris empire. We coordinate the reports from the overseas divisions, and send them on to headquarters in Athens. I’m the office manager. You’ll be my assistant.”

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