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59
Bond had played flat green bowls; his father was an enthusiast and had roped him in for a game on several occasions. Bond, good at all sports, had soon picked up the game. He said: “Not the crown version I’m afraid. Though I have played flat green.” “Crown is a little different, but the important thing is the bowling action, which you will already have. So I challenge you to a game tomorrow. What do you say?” “But of course.” Bond was not about to turn Goldnojaws down, the more time he spent with him the more he was likely to find out all about him and what his game was. “With a wager of….say, a thousand pounds, to make it interesting.” Goldnojaws noted Bond’s hesitation. "Come come, Mr Band, a thousand pounds must mean nothing to you, your commission from our little bit of business alone must be worth more than that.” Bond hadn’t wanted to seem too anxious. The Department would pick up the tab should he lose the game so losing the money didn’t mean a thing. But he didn’t want Goldnojaws to think that. So after a moment or two more of supposed thinking about it he said: “Well, all right then." He stood up. "Until tomorrow then.” “We will meet at Torkington Park. Four p.m." |
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