Young bloods - Scarrow Simon (библиотека электронных книг txt) 📗

'Buona Parte! Monsieur Buona Parte!'

Napoleon spun round.The clerk in the gallery was calling out his name. Napoleon thrust his way through the crowd towards the stairs and forced himself to climb them one at a time as he made his way up to the clerk.

'Buona Parte?'

'Yes.'

'Follow me.'

The clerk led him down a narrow corridor at the far end of the gallery. At the end of the corridor Napoleon was shown into a small room, just large enough for a desk and two chairs. The walls were covered with shelving on which bound files lay in neat stacks. One file lay open on the desk and glancing over the contents was a thin man of advanced years with grizzled strands of hair on his scalp. A pair of glasses had been eased up to rest on top of his head.

'Sit down,' he instructed without looking up.

Napoleon took the other chair and, opening the satchel, pulled out his papers.

'Quiet, if you please. I'm trying to concentrate.'

Napoleon stilled himself and waited for the official to complete his reading. At length, the man closed the file, leaned back, pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose and blinked at Napoleon.

'Monsieur Buona Parte? I had thought you were somewhat older.' He ran his finger down the notes on the cover of the file. 'You work at the court in Ajaccio?'

'That was my father, Carlos,' Napoleon explained. 'He died a few years ago. I am his son, Napoleon Buona Parte. I am pursuing his claim for compensation.'

'You've come all the way from Corsica to deal with this?'

Napoleon nodded.

'Well, I'm afraid I have not yet located all the documents relevant to your claim.'

Napoleon bit back on his frustration and anger. 'That's not good enough. I want you to send someone to look for them now.'

'I can't do that. My clerks are extremely busy. Finding these documents will have to wait until there's a man free to carry out the task.'

'When will that be?'

'I can't say. It might be weeks, or months.'

'That's not acceptable. I can't afford to wait here that long.'

'That is your choice, Monsieur Buona Parte. But if you fail to pursue your claim in person you can hardly blame the Treasury for not prioritising your request. I suggest you come back in, say, two weeks.'

'Two weeks?' Napoleon glared at him. 'My family are already in debt. And it's growing all the time, thanks to the Treasury. I demand that you do something about it right now.'

The official stared back at him, coldly. 'You can demand what you like. I will task one of my clerks to search for this record, when there is time. But I will not be dictated to by some provincial upstart in my office. Now, Monsieur Buona Parte, if you don't mind I have other pressing business to attend to. I suggest you make another appointment to see me in two weeks. I might have some news for you then.'

'And if you haven't?'

'Then I'm afraid you'll just have to wait a little longer.'

Napoleon stood up, snatched the contract back and stuffed the papers into his satchel. 'This is an outrage. I shall complain through the highest possible channels.'

'Please do. Now, good day to you, sir.'

Napoleon did not reply, but turned away and stormed out of the room, back along the corridor, down the hall and out into the street where the rain had turned into a steady downpour that hissed off the cobblestones. He turned in the direction of his hotel and, tucking the satchel under his arm, he strode off, a scowl of bitter anger and frustration etched into his face.

A short distance behind him a figure detached itself from the crowd watching a street puppeteer and set off after the young artillery officer.

Chapter 43

By the time evening came, Napoleon had calmed down, but the sense of outrage still smouldered deep inside. As he emerged from his hotel to go for his evening walk and find somewhere to eat he discovered that the rain had at last stopped and the air had a clean, crisp feel to it. Thin strips of silvery cloud half veiled a bright moon. Around him the wet street gleamed in the dull glow of light shining from windows. He clasped his hands behind his back and set off, heading for the heart of the city. His appetite had deserted him, so he walked for long hours, past the fine buildings and monuments of the capital, until late in the evening he found himself amongst the crowds wandering along the colonnade of the Palais-Royal. It was a favourite spot for the young of Paris to congregate to drink and flirt, and perhaps, if the mood took them, to fight.The shadowy colonnade that ran alongside the Palais was also the preserve of a more sensual pastime and as Napoleon strode past he ignored the advances of the prostitutes sitting on the steps or leaning against the pillars.

He was close to the end of the colonnade when he saw a slight shape hunched against the base of a cold stone pediment. It was a small street girl, asleep as she sat leaning against the stone. Her face was tilted up and to the side, and the moonlight gave her a cold, blue ethereal beauty that arrested Napoleon's attention so that he stopped and stared. She was quite stunning, he realised. Her hair, long and dark and wavy, hung in tresses over a dull grey cape. She had full lips and high cheekbones, and fine eyebrows above long lashes. He felt a sudden yearning for her in the pit of his stomach that caught him by surprise. Disturbed by the spontaneous sensation Napoleon was about to tear his gaze from her and walk away when her eyes flickered open and she ran the tip of her tongue delicately across her lips to moisten them. As she became fully conscious, she immediately noticed the slight figure of the artillery officer staring at her from a short distance away, and smiled.

'Hello, handsome,' she lisped. 'Looking for somebody?'

'Me?' Napoleon stammered. 'No. No, I'm just walking.'

'Really?' She laughed, revealing good teeth. 'I thought people moved when they walked.'

Napoleon blushed, but he drew a quick breath and recovered his poise. 'I had just stopped to admire-'

'Me.You were admiring me.' She jumped up and approached him quickly, pointing her finger. 'Go on, admit it!'

She laughed, a light trilling sound that was so infectious that after a moment Napoleon could not help joining in.

'All right then, I give in. I was looking at you.'

'I bet.' She assessed him shrewdly. 'Would you like some company, sir?'

'My name is Napoleon.'

'Napoleon,' she nodded.'And what would you like to call me?'

Napoleon looked puzzled for an instant before he replied, 'I'd like to call you by your name.'

She shrugged. 'As you wish. Annabelle.'

'Annabelle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.' He held out his hand, and she took it with a grin. Napoleon formally shook her hand, but she held on after his grip relaxed and refused to let go.

'So where are you taking me then, Napoleon?'

'Taking you? Why, I hadn't thought-'

'I'm hungry. And you look like you need some company. Let's go and find something to eat first.'

'I don't know if I can afford it.'

'That's all right. I know somewhere that's very reasonable.' She slipped her hand under his arm and smiled at him. 'After that… well, we'll just have to see.'

As the first grey smears of dawn spread across the room Napoleon woke with a start. He was naked. He felt it at once. He also felt the warm flesh of another curled up in the crook of his body and his forearm rested on her hip. At first the shocking unfamiliarity of the situation frightened him, and then the full details of the night before flooded back into his mind. The cheap meal he had bought them at a small inn.The lightness of the conversation and the fact that she had made him laugh, then little by little drawn out his ambitions to which she listened with avid attention – or seemed to, he reflected. Afterwards they had walked arm in arm back to his hotel, their laughter and high-spirited talk echoing along the dark streets. Then, in this room, by the light of a single candle, they had undressed in awkward silence before Napoleon held his breath at the vision of a naked female body standing before him.Then she had shivered and dived into the bed. After a brief hesitation he had followed her under the blanket and then flinched as she wrapped herself around him.