gns.theplutopact-第10部分

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ing　at　each　other。　At　eleven　o'clock　she　made　two　cups　of　coffee；　and　they　drank　them　in　silence。　Half　an　hour　later　they　made　ready　for　bed。　There　was　no　sign　of　either　Richard　or　Sarah；　but　that　was　only　to　be　expected。　Their　daughter　would　creep　in　some　hours　later；　closing　the　door　softly　behind　her；　leaving　her　shoes　down　in　the　hall。
　　
　　Richard；　however；　would　e　in　noisily；　rattling　crockery　in　the　kitchen　as　he　made　himself　a　snack；　and　then　stamping　up　to　his　room　in　his　heavy　boots。　Even　then　the　nocturnal　noises　would　not　be　finished。　Taps　ran　unnecessarily；　the　toilet　was　flushed；　and　sometimes　he　even　put　his　record　player　on。
　　
　　By　the　time　they　climbed　into　bed；　Bob　Coyle　was　convinced　that　the　conversation　of　earlier　was　finished。　He　put　out　the　light；　and　rested　his　head　on　the　pillow。　His　thoughts　were　a　kaleidoscope　of　recent　happenings　and　meetings：　Balzur's　curse；　the　nuclear　disposal；　Dyne；　Anne；　Richard；　Sarah　。　。　。　and　then；　without　any　warning；　Jane　groped　for　him。
　　
　　He　was　too　astounded　either　to　resist　or　to　cooperate。　Her　fingers　rumbled　their　way　inside　his　pyjama　trousers；　sought　and　found　his　limpness。　It　began　to　stiffen　and　pulse。　A　vision　of　Anne　crossed　his　mind；　and　he　shuddered　with　betrayal。　Jane　mistook　it　for　passion。　She　rubbed　him　more　swiftly；　more　sensuously；　her　face　moving　close　to　his；　her　lips　warm　and　demanding。　The　first　time　for　two　months；　and　it　was　too　late　to　turn　back。　Why？　Oh；　God；　why　did　she　have　to　plicate　everything？　Maybe　it　was　the　four…letter　word　he　had　used　which　had　aroused　a　slumbering　eroticism　within　her。
　　
　　His　emotions　were　in　a　turmoil。　He　lay　immobile…shocked。　Her　free　hand　began　undoing　the　buttons　of　his　pyjama　jacket；　loosening　the　cord　around　his　waist　and　pulling　the　trousers　down。　He　did　not　raise　his　body　to　cooperate；　but　that　made　no　difference。　She　exerted　all　her　strength；　and　soon　his　loins　were　bared。　The　bedclothes　were　thrown　back。　A　sudden　rustling　of　nylon；　and　he　knew　that　she　was　naked。　At　least　the　light　was　out；　otherwise　she　would　surely　have　noticed　the　expression　on　his　face…not　exactly　revulsion；　but　perplexity　and　unwillingness。
　　
　　He　felt　her　clambering　astride　him；　her　thigh　muscles　pressing　against　him；　trapping　him；　then　the　engulfing　warmth　as　she　claimed　him。　She　was　breathing　more　heavily　than　he　was；　guiding　his　hands　up　to　her　breasts；　wanting　him；　demanding　him。
　　
　　'I　love　you；　Bob；'　she　murmured。
　　
　　He　should　have　replied；　but　the　lie　would　not　e。　Even　in　his　own　bed；　the　marital　bed；　the　events　within　this　valley　would　not　allow　him　to　escape。
　　
　　'Do　you　love　me；　Bob？'　The　question　he　had　been　dreading。
　　
　　'Yes；'　the　lie　came　at　last；　unconvincingly；　but　she　appeared　not　to　notice。
　　
　　'It's　as　though'…she　paused；　rocking　herself　softly　to　and　fro　on　him…'almost　as　though　there's　been　a　barrier　between　us　for　these　last　few　months。　It's　been　the　tension　。　。　。　this　whole　nuclear　business。　It's　been　like　。　。　。　like　another　woman　ing　between　us。　I　should　have　tried　to　understand　you…and　admired　you　for　what　you　were　trying　to　do。　Well；　I　want　you　to　know　something。　No　matter　who's　against　you；　even　if　the　whole　town；　my　own　friends；　ostracise　me；　I'm　with　you　all　the　way。　And　Richard　can　look　after　himself。'
　　
　　He　closed　his　eyes　tightly；　aware　of　the　taste　of　blood　on　his　lower　lip。　His　fingers　squeezed　her　breasts；　and　then　everything　was　blasted　into　oblivion　with　the　shuddering　force　of　his　orgasm。
　　
　　At　first　the　long　night　hours　passed　slowly。　Coyle　heard　his　wife's　contented　shallow　breathing　as　she　slept。　He　envied　her　as　he　tossed　restlessly；　his　nakedness　buffeting　her　but　not　disturbing　her。　He　pitied　her；　for　she　believed　her　long　mental　struggle　was　over；　and　that　she　had　triumphed。　But　for　him；　events　were　rising　fast　towards　a　crescendo。
　　
　　Later　that　night　he　dreamed　of　a　valley　engulfed　in　flames；　buildings　and　hillsides　an　inferno。　And　in　the　sky　the　mushroom…shaped　smoke　pall　gradually　taking　the　shape　of　a　human　head。　A　face　that　was　dark　and　evil；　its　lips　muttering　a　silent　curse　on　Mankind　。　。　。　widening　into　a　grin　of　triumph　。　。　。　festering　and　oozing　pus。
　　
　　Bob　Coyle　awoke　in　the　blackness　of　night；　his　trembling　body　soaked　with　sweat；　his　mouth　dry。　He　tried　to　recall　that　face。　It　had　been　oddly　familiar；　as　though　someone　he　knew；　or　had　met　just　recently。　But　his　memory　failed　hun；　and　finally　he　drifted　back　into　uneasy　sleep。
　　
　　He　wakened　sometime　after　daybreak；　recalling　only　snatches　of　that　fiery　nightmare。　He　tried　to　visualise　that　face　in　the　smoke…but　it　was　gone　as　surely　as　if　dispersed　in　the　wind。　But　it　left　a　lingering；　torturing　reminder　。　。　。　something　he　should　have　known；　a　sinister　warning　snatched　away　from　him。　Next　time　it　came　it　could　be　reality　。　。　。　and　too　late！
　　
　　Sarah　Coyle　struggled　into　her　clothes　in　the　cramped　back　seat　of　the　Cortina。　Her　tall；　rangy　male　panion　was　already　dressed。　His　dexterity　amazed　her；　the　rapidity　with　which　he　always　dressed；　even　to　the　perfect　Windsor　knot　in　his　tie。　A　flick　of　a　b；　and　his　blond　hair　was　as　neat　as　ever。
　　
　　She　cursed　him　silently　as　she　struggled　to　groom　herself　with　the　aid　of　a　small　driving　mirror　and　the　interior　light　which　he　was　reluctant　to　switch　on。　Always　scared　in　case　some　passer…by　recognised　them　in　the　lay…by　on　the　outskirts　of　town。　Damn　him；　he　was　only　too　eager　to　get　her　clothes　off；　but　now　that　she　had　satisfied　him；　he　was　content　to　sit　there　smoking　a　cigarette；　and　watch　her　struggle　to　dress　herself；　occasionally　clicking　his　tongue　in　annoyance　at　her　slowness。　Almost　unwillingly　he　assisted　her　with　a　zip。
　　
　　'Damn　it；　you're　only　going　home　to　bed；'　he　muttered。　She　did　not　bother　to　explain　for　the　hundredth　time　that　there　was　always　the　chance　that　her　parents　might　not　have　gone　to　bed　early。　No　girl　relishes　returning　to　the　parental　nest　in　the　early　hours　of　the　morning　with　evidence　of　illicit　sexual　encounters　evident　on　her　person。　'Anyway；　I　thought　you　were　going　to　get　a　flat　of　your　own；　and　move　out？'　he　helped　her　over　into　the　front　passenger　seat。
　　
　　'I'm　still　thinking　about　it。'
　　
　　'It　can't　be　much　fun　living　with　a　family　like　yours。　Your　dad　still　has　this　obsession　about　a　radioactive　leak。　Does　he　ever　talk　about　anything　else　except　trying　to　close　down　〃Holocaust〃？'
　　
　　'I　don't　take　any　notice　now。'
　　
　　'Well；　you　ought　to。　If　that　place　closed　down；　you'd　be　out　of　a　job。　Still；　I　suppose　he'd　find　you　one　at　the　Herald。　'You　seem　more　worried　about　his　efforts　than　he　is。'　'It'd　effect　my　livelihood。　Probably　kill　off　my　business　altogether。　A　few　years　ago　I　was　living　at　subsistence…level　out　of　one　small　hardware　shop。　Somebody's　floorboards　came　loose；　so　I　sold　them　half　a　pound　of　nails。　Then　the　workers　flocked　into　the　new　station。　I've　now　got　three　shops。　I　employ　a　dozen　people。　If　your　dad　had　his　way；　I'd　be　back　to　relying　on　the　sale　of　a　few　nails　and　screws　for　my　living。　See　what　I　mean？'
　　
　　'You　really　hate　my　dad；　don't　you？'
　　
　　'No　more　than　a　lot　of　other　tradesmen…like　McLellan；　and　the　rest　of　the　council。　Not　him　personally；　just　what　he's　trying　to　do。'
　　
　　'If　it　wasn't　for　him　you　wouldn't　get　what　you've　had　off　me　tonight；　would　you？　Or　maybe　some　other　girl　would　serve　just　as　well。'
　　
　　'Don't　be　silly。'　He　slipped　an　arm　around　her；　but　she　drew　back；　turning　her　head　to　avoid　his　lips。
　　
　　'Don't　start　being　bloody　stupid。'
　　
　　Tm　not。　But　all　we　ever　do　is　screw　on　the　back　seat　of　your　bloody　car。　Twice　in　the　last　month　you've　taken　me　for　a　drink。　Eating　out　seems　to　have　gone　by　the　board；　or　are　you　afraid　somebody　will　see　us　together　in　a　restaurant？'　The　anger　and　sarcasm　was　building　up　in　her　voice。　'And　what　about　this　divorce？　You　haven't　mentioned　that　lately；　either。　Seems　to　me　you're　getting　the　best　of　both　worlds；　David。　Well；　you'd　better　sort　something　out；　and　e　up　with　a　solution。'
　　
　　'I　bought　you　that　new　outfit　last　week；'　he　muttered　sullenly。
　　
　　'Gee；　thanks；　Sugar　Daddy。'　She　turned　her　head　away　towards　the　window。　'You're　turning　me　into　a　bloody　prostitute　now。　I'd　sooner　do　it　for　hard　cash。'
　　
　　He　let　in　the　clutch　angrily；　and　slammed　the　gears。　Ten　minutes　later　they　were　parked　a　hundred　yards　from　the　Coyle　house；　the　engine　ticking　over。
　　
　　'I'm　sorry。'　He　managed；　successfully　this　time；　to　put　his　arm　around　her。　Her　lips　met　his；　even　though　they　were　unresponsive。
　　
　　'Get　something　worked　out　then；'　she　snapped。
　　
　　'OK。'　He　squeezed　her　arm。　'I　will。　I　promise。　But　don't　forget　one　thing。　Your　old　man　is　knocking　off　that　bird　in　his　office。　It　wouldn't　do　for　that　to　get　around　town；　would　it？'
　　
　　Sarah　Coyle　was　sobbing　quietly　to　herself　as　she　let　herself　in　the　house；　and　crept　up　the　stairs。
　　
　　Richard　Coyle　stubbed　out　his　cigarette　in　the　battered　tin　lid　which　served　as　an　ashtray。　He　reached　for　his　shirt　and　crumpled　jeans　which　lay　on　the　floor；　and　looked　up　at　the　naked　girl　stretched　out　on　the　frayed　couch　above　him。
　　
　　She　smiled　back　at　him；　provocatively　opening　her　thighs；　which　had　once　been　very　shapely　but　were　now　turning　slightly　to　fat。
　　
　　Turning　away　from　her；　Richard　rested　on　one　elbow；　and　gazed　at　his　surroundings。　One　small　dirty　room。　Dust　on　every　item　of　shabby　furniture；　crumbled　plaster　on　the　floor　where　it　had　spilled　from　the　multitude　of　cracks　in　the　ceiling；　a　curtained　alcove　containing　a　stained　loo　and　washbasin；　an　unmade　bed。　A　heap　of　crumpled　blankets　and　sheets。　The　smell。　It　was　his　wish　that　they　made　love　on　the　couch　nowadays；　he　had　told　her　he　found　it　more　erotic　there。　He　didn't　want　to　offend　her。　Sometimes　he　wondered　why　he　came　here　every　night。　Sex；　of　course…there　was　no　other　reason。　He　could　get　it　elsewhere；　no　doubt　about　that。　But　would　he　have　got　it　any　better？　He　smiled　to　himself。
　　
　　Linda　Lakin　was　attractive…there　was　no　doubt　about　that。　A　bath；　a　visit　to　the　hairdresser's；　and　she　would　probably　be　classe