slow thrust of a sword.
For the next seven days I had no chance of being alone with her. Sarek and I went to the office every day and returned in the evening. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight except when I went to lock up the chickens and take the last look round, and then he’d only let me go if she stayed with him.
Every night she left the blind up, and I watched her prepare for bed. And when Sarek joined her, the last thing she did before pulling down the blind was to look towards the bam.
By the end of the seventh day I wasn’t sure if I was in my right mind.
‘We can kill him, Frank.’
I had never ceased to think about that. At first I thought she had been joking, then I decided she had been serious, and it worried me. But at the end of the seventh day I was wanting to kill him myself.
Watching him night after night in her room, put a kink in my brain.
‘We can kill him, Frank.’
It meant nothing to me now - nothing. As if she had said we’d kill a cockerel for dinner: not as much.
On the tenth night I nearly did kill him.
I was up there in the loft, watching her undress when he came into the room. She didn’t look at him or pay him any attention, and he stood watching her for a moment. Then he reached out and touched her.
I had the gun in my hand. I was aiming at him, swearing aloud, raving like a madman, the gun sight steady as a rock, my finger taking up the trigger slack. Then she moved between the gun sight and his head and I dropped the gun with a shudder to the floor.
I had nearly murdered him. If she hadn’t moved at that moment I would have shot him: as close to murder as that.
On the way to the office the next morning, he told me casually that tomorrow he would catch the ten o’clock plane to Paris.
chapter nine
I t was just after seven and I was lighting the fire when he came in. One look at his face told me something had happened. He was beaming: I don’t think I have seen anyone look as happy as he did, and I gaped at him.
‘Mrs. Sarek she is sick this morning.’
My mouth went dry.
‘You mean she is ill?’
He patted me on the shoulder. If possible his grin seemed to widen. I could see every tooth in his head.
‘No; not ill; is sick, you understand? Very sick. Is first sign, hey? Sick in the morning is good, hey?’
I didn’t say anything: I couldn’t.
He took out his handkerchief and polished his great, hooked nose. It gave him also the opportunity to wipe his eyes.
He was nearly blubbering.
‘Is what I pray for. I wait three year for this. Is my son coming.’
I turned my back squarely on him and poked the fire. If he had seen my face, he would have known the set-up. I felt bad enough to faint. But he was far too busy being happy to notice anything wrong with me.
‘Is too sick to fly this morning. She want to stay here. Is understandable. I’ll be back in three, four days.’
I felt the blood return to my face. She had told me she would stay the next time he went to Paris. Maybe the sickness was a blind. I hoped so.
‘Well, you won’t want me around here, Mr. Sarek. I’ll spend a few days in London unless you want me with you in Paris.’
He beamed at me.
‘Is right. You take a few days of. Have a good time. I never ask you, Frank. You got a girl, hey?’
‘Well, yes. She’ll be glad to see me.’
‘You get married soon?’
I shook my head.
‘I’m not the marrying type.’
He patted my shoulder.
‘You think about marriage, Frank. Is good to have a son.’
I grinned at him. There wasn’t much heart in it.
‘I’d rather have a rich father.’
While I was supposed to be getting the car out of the garage, I heard him phoning Emmie. He was telling her about his son, and from the way he talked she wasn’t over-excited.
‘I feel it,’ he said saying aggressively. ‘Is a son coming. I know. Is no good you saying things like that. I don’t listen. I know, I tell you.’
I had hoped to sneak up the stairs and find out if
For the next seven days I had no chance of being alone with her. Sarek and I went to the office every day and returned in the evening. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight except when I went to lock up the chickens and take the last look round, and then he’d only let me go if she stayed with him.
Every night she left the blind up, and I watched her prepare for bed. And when Sarek joined her, the last thing she did before pulling down the blind was to look towards the bam.
By the end of the seventh day I wasn’t sure if I was in my right mind.
‘We can kill him, Frank.’
I had never ceased to think about that. At first I thought she had been joking, then I decided she had been serious, and it worried me. But at the end of the seventh day I was wanting to kill him myself.
Watching him night after night in her room, put a kink in my brain.
‘We can kill him, Frank.’
It meant nothing to me now - nothing. As if she had said we’d kill a cockerel for dinner: not as much.
On the tenth night I nearly did kill him.
I was up there in the loft, watching her undress when he came into the room. She didn’t look at him or pay him any attention, and he stood watching her for a moment. Then he reached out and touched her.
I had the gun in my hand. I was aiming at him, swearing aloud, raving like a madman, the gun sight steady as a rock, my finger taking up the trigger slack. Then she moved between the gun sight and his head and I dropped the gun with a shudder to the floor.
I had nearly murdered him. If she hadn’t moved at that moment I would have shot him: as close to murder as that.
On the way to the office the next morning, he told me casually that tomorrow he would catch the ten o’clock plane to Paris.
chapter nine
I t was just after seven and I was lighting the fire when he came in. One look at his face told me something had happened. He was beaming: I don’t think I have seen anyone look as happy as he did, and I gaped at him.
‘Mrs. Sarek she is sick this morning.’
My mouth went dry.
‘You mean she is ill?’
He patted me on the shoulder. If possible his grin seemed to widen. I could see every tooth in his head.
‘No; not ill; is sick, you understand? Very sick. Is first sign, hey? Sick in the morning is good, hey?’
I didn’t say anything: I couldn’t.
He took out his handkerchief and polished his great, hooked nose. It gave him also the opportunity to wipe his eyes.
He was nearly blubbering.
‘Is what I pray for. I wait three year for this. Is my son coming.’
I turned my back squarely on him and poked the fire. If he had seen my face, he would have known the set-up. I felt bad enough to faint. But he was far too busy being happy to notice anything wrong with me.
‘Is too sick to fly this morning. She want to stay here. Is understandable. I’ll be back in three, four days.’
I felt the blood return to my face. She had told me she would stay the next time he went to Paris. Maybe the sickness was a blind. I hoped so.
‘Well, you won’t want me around here, Mr. Sarek. I’ll spend a few days in London unless you want me with you in Paris.’
He beamed at me.
‘Is right. You take a few days of. Have a good time. I never ask you, Frank. You got a girl, hey?’
‘Well, yes. She’ll be glad to see me.’
‘You get married soon?’
I shook my head.
‘I’m not the marrying type.’
He patted my shoulder.
‘You think about marriage, Frank. Is good to have a son.’
I grinned at him. There wasn’t much heart in it.
‘I’d rather have a rich father.’
While I was supposed to be getting the car out of the garage, I heard him phoning Emmie. He was telling her about his son, and from the way he talked she wasn’t over-excited.
‘I feel it,’ he said saying aggressively. ‘Is a son coming. I know. Is no good you saying things like that. I don’t listen. I know, I tell you.’
I had hoped to sneak up the stairs and find out if
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