‘So why don’t we?’
‘Do what?’
‘Split from this place. We could go into Soho or to the King’s Road. Actually, I have an even better idea. There’s another party in Richmond, starting in about an hour, that a bunch of my friends you would really like are heading over to. We could drive out there, stay up all night and head for breakfast at Heathrow.’
‘Richmond? Heathrow?’ she said, secretly feeling swept up in the adventure of it all.
‘I love the airport. It’s a good job I haven’t got my passport with me or who knows where we might end up. It’s one of the reasons I joined the army. Other than the fact that I was too thick for university. I love the idea that we could get deployed anywhere.’
Georgia looked at him wide-eyed.
‘But surely if you were sent away, you’d be going to war? I can think of safer ways to travel.’
‘You say that as if you care.’ He smiled and she felt her heart do a little flip. She was blushing, too, and was glad the moonlight was dim.
‘What do you say? Stay or go?’
‘I’ve love to get out of here, but I fear the speeches might go on for some time. I get the feeling that Mr Nightingale likes the sound of his own voice.’
‘So let’s just slope off.’
‘How? We’ll be spotted and dragged back in by the waiters. They probably have lassoes in their pockets.’
He laughed, and she felt good.
‘Well, let’s find an escape route.’
‘It’s all right for you. You have training for this sort of thing.’
Harry was already peering over the balcony.
‘It’s only fifteen feet or so down,’ he confirmed. ‘And there’s a drainpipe all the way to the ground. Do you reckon you can do it?’
‘Are you kidding? When I lived in Paris, I used to sneak out of windows twice as high as this.’
‘You get more interesting all the time.’
Harry went first, shinning down in a matter of seconds. Georgia swung one leg over the balustrade and then the other, adjusted her feet and then edged along the rim of the balcony to follow him. Her heart was thumping and the back of her neck grew clammy as she grabbed the drainpipe.
‘Why didn’t we just walk out of the door?’ she shouted as she clung on for dear life.
As the soles of her feet hit the floor, Harry grabbed her hand and led her to a door at the end of the garden.
‘Open sesame,’ he said, turning the heavy knob, and then they were out on to a Belgravia back street, laughing and panting as they ran past the grand, white terraced houses as if they had escaped from jail.
‘My car’s just here,’ he said, leading her to a little Fiat.
He opened the door for her and she got inside. As the engine revved, she watched him move the gearstick into first, showing a flash of firm tanned forearm.
‘I feel naughty.’
‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’
He drove quickly, the car nipping through streets that became less and less recognisable, telling her about his life in the Welsh Guards – about a difficult colonel, and the regiment’s recent deployment to the Suez Canal Zone.
As they took a bridge over the river, Georgia sighed in delight.
‘This is wonderful,’ she said, the vista making her feel giddy. ‘Walking along the Seine used to be one of my favourite things.’