Argylle

by Elly Conway

Argylle taps out the Morse for SOS on the side of his leg, something his mother taught him. ‘You’d be amazed how often it turns out you can answer your own call for help,’ she’d said.

‘Has she said something?’ ‘To me? Please. I can just tell. Anyway, it’s just a fact – women like you. You wanna know why?’ ‘Because of my sheer animal magnetism?’ ‘Because you like women.’ ‘Come on. All men like women.’ Carter’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You know, for a smart-ass, you can be really dumb. Most men either hate women or are scared to death of them. Now, why don’t you write that pearl of wisdom down in your little book?’