Odd Prompts: Spy Chat
This is a snip from the longer piece I started with 'It's Never Espionage'
***
I stowed the gear, and as my wife had not yet rejoined me, stuck my head into the corridor. Branch and Amelie’s compartments were both closed, and there was no one in sight in our car. I debated, momentarily, waiting for Karen, then shook my head. She had taken to Amelie like a puppy to new shoes, and I would just be a third wheel. I was also a mite peckish, and exploring what the dining car had to offer sounded appealing.
I’d regained my train legs by the time I found it, two cars up from ours. I had only seen two other people on my way, but here there were a few scattered about at tables. Mostly they seemed to be drinking rather than eating. Contemplating the gap of time since my last belly full, that seemed premature. The steward saw me enter the car, and nodded, then gestured at an empty booth. I took the hint and headed for it. He was ready with a menu when I got there.
“I’ll take whatever you have on hand.” I pushed it back towards him as I sat. “It’s off hours and I don’t want to put you or your staff to any trouble.”
He lit up like I’d handed him the crown jewels. “Ah! Bien sur! Un instant, m’sieu.”
He hurried off to the galley and I looked around at my fellow passengers. An unprepossessing lot, for the most part. Casual clothes seemed the garb of choice, and at least two members of the opposite sex seemed not to have made the acquaintance of a comb recently. My eyes skimmed over them, then paused and returned. I didn’t want to stare, so I turned and looked at the window, which perfectly reflected the man seated across the way from me. This, I could study at length, at least while he was engrossed in the newspaper he held open in front of him. That was what caught my eye. It was too late in the day for the morning news to remain unread, for most European gentlemen, and too early for the afternoon edition when we had set out.
He was hiding. From me? Seemed doubtful. I hadn’t known I’d be on this train until the night before, but others had known that when I did, and depending on how determined they were, it was very possible we’d picked up a tail. I didn’t know how indiscreet Amelie, or Branch for that matter, might have been.
I stopped staring at the window, and looked up the car at the galley. The steward, carrying a small tray, came out as if summoned by my gaze, and made his way rapidly to me. The snack turned out to be a spread of cheese and breads, sliced thinly, with a few condiments to add relish to the thing. A frosty beer, it seemed, accompanied it as a matter of routine.
“Just what I wanted.” I assured him. “Thanks much.”
He bobbed his head with a broad smile, and I slipped something into his hand. He politely didn’t look, but the smile was upgraded to a grin, and he turned away reluctantly. I’d given him enough that he would pay assiduous attention to Karen and I, but not so much he’d scorn me as an ignorant American. At least, no more than he’d do anyway. The bitter sardonic Frenchman is a common enough find, I’d treasure a cheerful one, and wonder if his temperament was what kept him working outside his native land.
I tucked into the fodder, and observed the man with the newspaper casually when he came into my periphery. He’d stopped reading, or pretending to read, and had laid it down, folded neatly, at the edge of his table. I downed a draft of my beer and considered my next move. This was the second time today I had seen those words, and it was unlikely that was a coincidence.
I got up with a last reluctant glance at my food, and wandered over to his table.
“The garden was filled with lampshades.” I spoke in a low tone, knowing it was unlikely to carry over the background noise of a running train. He jerked, and looked up at me with wide, startled eyes. I made a small hand gesture toward the newspaper, folded to show me the headline ‘Perpetual Motion Machine’ from across the car. I began to wonder, when he didn’t look down at it, if I’d got the right man.
Then he blurted out the response code. “The snowflakes floated gently upwards.”
***
My prompt this week came from Fiona Grey, with "The garden was filled with lampshades" and I also grabbed a spare for the response code.
I prompted AC Young with "They thought they were putting a trapdoor into the crawlspace, not…" and the response for that is a lot of fun.
You can read all of the responses over at More Odds Than Ends, or join in on the fun. Come on, you know you want to play! No wordcount limit, it doesn't have to be fiction...