The James Bond Anthology

‘Sure.’ She went behind the counter. She gave him a quick glimpse of fine bosoms as she bent to the door of the icebox – a glimpse not dictated by the geography of the place. She nudged the door shut with a knee, deftly uncapped the bottle and put it on the counter beside an almost clean glass. ‘That’ll be one and six.’

Bond paid. She rang the money into the cash register. Bond drew up a stool to the counter and sat down. She rested her arms on the wooden top and looked across at him. ‘Passing through?’

‘More or less. I saw this place was for sale in yesterday’s Gleaner. I thought I’d take a look at it. Nice big house. Does it belong to you?’

She laughed. It was a pity, because she was a pretty girl, but the teeth had been sharpened by munching raw sugar cane. ‘What a hope! I’m sort of, well sort of manager. There’s the café’ (she pronounced it caif) ‘and mebbe you heard we got other attractions.’

Bond looked puzzled. ‘What sort?’

‘Girls. Six bedrooms upstairs. Very clean. It only cost a pound. There’s Sarah up there now. Care to meet up with her?’

‘Not today, thanks. It’s too hot. But do you only have one at a time?’

‘There’s Lindy, but she’s engaged. She’s a big girl. If you like them big, she’ll be free in half an hour.’ She glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall behind her. ‘Around six o’clock. It’ll be cooler then.’

‘I prefer girls like you. What’s your name?’

She giggled. ‘I only do it for love. I told you I just manage the place. They call me Tiffy.’

‘That’s an unusual name. How did you come by it?’

‘My momma had six girls. Called them all after flowers. Violet, Rose, Cherry, Pansy and Lily. Then when I came, she couldn’t think of any more flower names so she called me “Artificial”.’ Tiffy waited for him to laugh. When he didn’t, she went on. ‘When I went to school they all said it was a wrong name and laughed at me and shortened it to Tiffy and that’s how I’ve stayed.’

‘Well, I think it’s a very pretty name. My name’s Mark.’

She flirted. ‘You a saint too?’

‘No one’s ever accused me of it. I’ve been up at Frome doing a job. I like this part of the island and it crossed my mind to find some place to rent. But I want to be closer to the sea than this. I’ll have to look around a bit more. Do you rent rooms by the night?’

She reflected. ‘Sure. Why not. But you may find it a bit noisy. There’s sometimes a customer who’s taken some drinks too many. And there’s not too much plumbing.’ She leaned closer and lowered her voice. ‘But I wouldn’t have advised you to rent the place. The shingles are in bad shape. Cost you mebbe five hunnerd, mebbe a thousand to get the roof done.’

‘It’s nice of you to tell me that. But why’s the place being sold? Trouble with the police?’

‘Not so much. We operate a respectable place. But in the Gleaner, after Mr Brown, that’s my boss, you read that “et ux”?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, seems that means “and his wife”. And Mistress Brown, Mistress Agatha Brown, she was Church of England, but she just done gone to the Catholics. And it seems they don’t hold with places like 3½, not even when they’re decently run. And their church here, just up the street, seems that needs a new roof like here. So Mistress Brown figures to kill two birds with the same stone and she goes on at Mr Brown to close the place down and sell it and with her portion she goin’ fix the roof for the Catholics.’

‘That’s a shame. It seems a nice quiet place. What’s going to happen to you?’

‘Guess I’ll move to Kingston. Live with one of my sisters and mebbe work in one of the big stores – Issa’s mebbe, or Nathan’s. Sav’ La Mar is sort of quiet.’ The brown eyes became introspective. ‘But I’ll sure miss the place. Folks have fun here and Love Lane’s a pretty street. We’re all friends up and down the Lane. It’s got sort of, sort of …’

‘Atmosphere.’

‘Right. That’s what it’s got. Like sort of old Jamaica. Like it must have been in the old days. Everyone’s friends with each other. Help each other when they have trouble.

You’d be surprised how often the girls do it for free if the man’s a good feller, regular customer sort of, and he’s short.’ The brown eyes gazed inquiringly at Bond to see if he understood the strength of the evidence.

‘That’s nice of them. But it can’t be good for business.’