I was sitting at the counter in the bar of the Mayfair Hotel, some twelve yards away from the entrance, when Susan arrived to meet Mr Henry the following day. From where I was sitting I could smell her lemony perfume as she walked in. I had some aftershave that smelled of lemons that I would use after a heavy night of drinking to mask the smell of alcohol oozing from my skin. I wondered if that was the reason she was wearing it. Mr Henry had told me to sit where I was, but I was conscious of the annoyance I was causing the bar manager because my bulk was obstructing the narrow walk through. Susan had to push past me, that"s when I could smell the booze.
“Why"s he here?” Susan asked Mr Henry as she sat at his table.
“No reason other than he"s my driver, Miss Rawlinson,” he said as he rose
