Butterfly Hunter 01 (2 page)

Dave tried not to sigh
again, and then tried not to yawn, as he absently watched the next
fellow come through. The luggage came first, on a trolley, and the
guy came after it, almost tumbling as he negotiated the doors and
got a foot caught against the trolley wheel. Everything teetered as
he tried to break free, prevent the door from slamming closed, and
head down along the barriers to his right, all at the same time. He
almost succeeded in achieving all those things, and probably would
have, too, if he hadn’t suddenly decided to head to his left
instead. He went sprawling on the floor, long limbs everywhere,
while the trolley trundled off by itself for a few feet and finally
came to a lame kind of halt.

Dave felt for the guy, he
really did. Just his luck if he was meeting his lover at the
airport or something, and had managed to klutz out entirely.
Everyone was either tactfully looking somewhere else, or smiling
ruefully at the guy. There wasn’t anyone nearby to help him up,
because none of them were dumb enough to go past the barrier;
security didn’t seem to have noticed yet, and for now the klutz was
the only arriving passenger.

And he was still lying
there on the floor … Why on earth was he still down there on the
cold hard floor? He hadn’t broken something, had he? Dave looked at
him – properly – with a frown. Considered each of those gangly
limbs, but they seemed to be whole. He wasn’t lying at an awkward
angle or anything. But his head was tilted back, and he was
grinning a bit stupidly … and he was looking right back at
Dave!

Which would have been
fine, except that once he realised Dave was looking back, the guy
seemed to wink. Or was that blink? But upside down like that, his
smile seemed to have a wicked kick to it – and really, if they were
in any other situation at all, if this wasn’t early morning at an
international airport, Dave might have thought the guy was checking
him out …

He turned away with a bit
of a grimace, kind of a sneer. Which wasn’t like him, not really,
and he wasn’t prejudiced, he’d swear it, but honestly it was
way
too
early for lascivious stares from awkward strangers of the wrong
gender. It just was.

A moment later he
regretted the rudeness, of course, and his heart thudded once,
punishingly. He turned back to see if he’d given offence, and
perhaps to offer an apologetic shrug. But security had finally
arrived, and were helping the guy up to his feet, dusting him off,
making sure he would remain upright for now, retrieving his bags.
Listening to him chat, and apparently letting themselves be charmed
into deciding him harmless.

Dave watched, vaguely glad that
everything seemed to be in order. Until they were past the
barriers, and the guards ushered the guy out towards the exits, and
he declined to go. Instead he turned, and his searching gaze soon
landed on Dave again. Dave stood up slowly, warily, as the man
approached with the guards trailing behind with matching
frowns.

“
I believe
you’re looking for me,” the guy said in a cultured English
accent.

“
What?” Dave
replied stupidly.

A long pale hand indicated
the sign Dave carried. “I’m Nicholas Goring.”

“
Oh
God.”

The corner of his mouth
kicked slightly, though the man was no longer smiling. “Just
sir
will
do.”

They were silent while
Dave led his client out to the car park, paid off his ticket, found
the car and put the bags in the boot, insisting in a mutter that he
didn’t need Goring’s assistance.

It wasn’t until they were
heading into the city on Kingsford Smith Drive that Dave finally
spoke. “I’ll take you to the hotel. I booked it with an early
check–in. I’m sure you’ll be glad of a shower and change of
clothes.” When he risked a glance at the man, Dave was disconcerted
to find that Goring’s smile once again had a wicked kick to it.
“Um,” said Dave, “
sir
…”

“
I always had
a thing for chauffeurs,” the man confided.

“
Huh.” Dave
frowned, and stared very hard at the road ahead, though he wasn’t
entirely sure how much he was actually seeing. “Well. What do you
do when they don’t have a thing for you?”

Goring chuckled, sounding
genuinely amused. “Ah, come on. Seize the day!”

“
Mate,
life’s not
that
short.”

The chuckle turned into a
laugh – and Dave liked that. Still, he was relieved when Goring
said, “All right, I’ll stop. Don’t mind me. I hardly got a wink of
sleep on that damned plane.”

“
You weren’t
exactly travelling cattle class. Were you?”

“
No, but …”
Goring looked away, biting at his lower lip. He was a tall, scrawny
man, and his lips were the plumpest thing about him. They were a
dash of pink on his pale face. They were almost pretty. “Too much
on my mind, I suppose.”

Dave let a beat go by, and
then headed for safer ground. “Common wisdom is to stay awake for
as long as you can today, and try not to sleep until tonight. Get
into the new time zone as soon as you can.”

“
Yes, so I’ve
heard.”

“
And I find
that people like to start with a good breakfast, to keep their
energy levels up. The hotel – you’re at the Hilton – is known for
their breakfasts.”

“
I
see.”

“
It’s up to
you, but I’ll keep you company, if you like. For as much of the day
as suits.”

“
Starting with
breakfast … ?”

“
If you like,”
Dave repeated. “And later, if you have people here, I can drop you
off wherever. Just tell me what you want to do and then, you know,
feel free to change your plans if you can’t stay awake any longer
or whatever.”

Goring was staring at him.
“I understand.” After a moment, he added, “I don’t know why I was
expecting laconic rather than loquacious.”

Dave glanced at him.
“Dunno if I’m your typical Aussie, mate.”

Another laugh, though wry
this time rather than genuine. Then Goring asked, “Will Mr Taylor
be able to join us for breakfast?”

“
What?”
Dave grimaced as he turned right onto Albert Street. They were
almost there. “No, I’m –
I’m
Dave
Taylor.”

“
Oh.”

“
I guess I
didn’t – No, I didn’t introduce myself. The meeting at the airport
didn’t, uh –”

“
Didn’t quite
go as planned,” Goring smoothly supplied.

“
No. My fault.
Look, we’re here,” Dave said. “I’ll drop you off, and you can check
in while I park.”

“
No need. I’ll
stay with you.”

Dave glanced at him, and
thought that Goring wasn’t merely being polite. In any case, he
needed to decide right away, as he was already approaching the car
park. He nodded, and flipped on the indicator. So be it. Almost
nothing this morning had gone as intended, so why not this as
well?

They were silent again as
Dave collected a ticket, and then quickly chose an empty space on
the ground floor – it was still too early to be busy. Once he’d
parked, they both got out, and met around the back of the car. Dave
looked the man in the eye, and held his hand out. “Good morning,
uh, sir. I’m Dave Taylor.”

Goring shook his hand with
a cool firmness before disengaging. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr
Taylor. Call me Nicholas.”

“
Dave.”

“
David,” said
Nicholas.

Dave grinned, and turned
to open the boot, started lifting the three bags out. “All right,
but no one calls me that. It’s Dave or – well, my friends call me
Davey.”

“
Would you
join me for breakfast, David?”

“
Sure.
Thanks,” he added, quite genuinely. “We can talk over your trip.
I’ve brought maps and such.”

“
Good. Here,
let me –”

But Dave only handed over
the cabin–sized bag, and insisted on wheeling the larger cases.
“I’ve got it,” he said. He attempted the three syllables as they
emerged into sunlight: “Nicholas.” He wondered how long it would be
before he was allowed to go with Nick or Nicky.

“
Thank you.”
The man’s smile was a little gentler by now.

Of course it had all gone
horribly wrong so far, and God only knew what that meant for the
rest of the trip, but it seemed that at least Dave had been
forgiven for his part of the shambles. He nodded, both accepting
and returning the thanks. Nicholas seemed to understand. As they
walked shoulder to shoulder into the hotel, Dave dared to think the
next three months mightn’t be a complete disaster.

Barely half an hour later,
Nicholas reappeared, bright and fresh and cheerful in the diffuse
sunlight of the restaurant. While still standing there towering
tall and lean, he offered, “I apologise for the chauffeur
thing.”

Dave couldn’t help but
grin. “You’re sorry about your thing for chauffeurs?”

“
Well, no,”
was the reply as Nicholas sat down around the corner of the table
to Dave’s right. “That dates back to my first love. Always a
formative experience, wouldn’t you say?”

Dave huffed an empathic
breath. “Hell, yeah.”

“
What I’m
sorry for is being so outrageous so early in the morning with no
provocation on your part whatsoever.”

“
Don’t worry
about it. We already started over, didn’t we?”

“
With our
proper introductions,” Nicholas agreed.

A waiter appeared, and Dave
ordered coffee while Nicholas ordered tea.

Perhaps it was all best
forgotten about, but Dave was still curious about the
misunderstandings. “You know, I always do this bit. Meeting my
clients off the plane, or whatever. To me, that’s the professional
thing to do. Maybe you’re used to butlers and maids and secretaries
– and chauffeurs,” he added, as he caught Nicholas trying to
suppress a wicked smirk – “doing that for you, but here there’s
just me. The business is mine, and I try to do things properly.”
Having forgotten the point he was trying to get to, Dave tailed
off, “Well, I wouldn’t just send a car to collect you.”

“
Of course
not,” Nicholas stoutly agreed. “It was my mistake
entirely.”

For some reason, Dave felt
the need to persist. “There are a few people I employ to help me
when I have larger tour groups, but for smaller groups – and for
you – I’m afraid it’s just me.”

“
That’s
perfectly fine. Of course.”

A silence stretched. Dave
frowned, unable to either follow his own thought processes through
to their outcome, or track them back to their origin.

“
Look,” said
Nicholas after their tea and coffee had arrived. “I won’t flirt. I
won’t make a nuisance of myself. If that’s what you’re worried
about. What I said this morning was stupid. But if an apology and a
promise aren’t enough, then –”

“
That’s
enough,” Dave insisted. But then he blurted, “The chauffeur. What
happened to him?”

Nicholas’s head went back
in surprise. “Oh. Well. He went on to lead a full and happy life, I
suppose. What do you mean, what happened … ?”

“
He lost his
job, right? Sacked without a reference?”

“
Good grief,”
Nicholas exclaimed with a laugh. “Even I don’t characterise my life
as a Gothic romance. No, he didn’t lose his job. Quite the
opposite. He retired last May, and still lives on the
estate.”

Dave stared at the man.

“
He was very
kind to me,” Nicholas continued. “Very patient. And,” he confided
from under a lifted brow, “very discreet.”

“
Oh!” Dave
hadn’t felt so idiotic for years.

“
So, you
see … it isn’t
always
an unmitigated disaster to be fancied by
me.”

“
No. No, of
course …”

“
Shall we go
raid the buffet for breakfast?” Nicholas smoothly
supplied.

Once they were done
eating, they ordered more coffee and tea, and Dave reached for his
folder of maps and notes. “Can we talk about the trip?”

“
Yes, please.”
Nicholas sat forward with an eager little smile, his hands spread
on the table either side of his cup.

“
Look,” said
Dave after a long moment.

Nicholas’s face fell.
“There’s a problem?”

“
I just don’t
want you getting your hopes up, is all. The information you gave me
– a lot of it’s contradictory, or it doesn’t make much
sense.”

“
I know it’s
only clues. That’s why I was hoping we’d have plenty of time to
explore. Maybe it will all start falling into place while we’re out
there.”

“
That’s the
thing. And I tried having this conversation with your butler or
whatever he was, so I’m hoping he passed all this on. Heading into
the Outback – it’s not like taking a stroll through the Cotswolds
or whatever. If things go wrong, we could die.”

“
I
understand,” Nicholas solemnly replied.