[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.‘I’ve a van outside,’ muttered the tinker.‘But it’s loaded with junk.’From the group by the fireplace someone said, ‘I could fetch a car but it’d take a good twenty minutes.’Hanley’s eyes swung round and fixed on Billy.If he remembered their last meeting he gave no sign of it.But then he’d been drunk at the time; now he looked eerily sober, his gaze pale and hard.Buttoning his jacket, Billy shook his head slowly.‘It’ll have to be the van then.Give a hand here.’ Three of the farm workers lumbered into action, as did the younger of the tinkers and the second Pole.Perhaps because there were so many bearers they were badly coordinated: as they picked up the Pole they let his head drop back.The officer immediately moved round to support it, cradling it in one hand.‘The door!’ he commanded Billy.Billy, who had been on the point of opening it anyway, paused to give him a slow stare, a delay which forced the bearers to halt before passing through.The party had to wait again in the pouring rain while the older tinker rearranged the back of the van.Finally they laid the sick man awkwardly over the scrap metal.Hanley took off his jacket and, folding it several times, placed it under the man’s head.When the van doors had banged shut Hanley turned and said crisply, ‘Well done, everybody.Now I suggest you all settle down and enjoy the rest of your evening.’The farm workers shuffled their feet sheepishly and muttered their thanks.Distancing himself rapidly from this abject display, Billy took two steps back, and when that still didn’t feel far enough turned on his heel and strode away.If there was one thing that irked him more than a smug officer, it was a smug ex-officer who thought he was still running the show.Billy had spotted the glitter of Annie’s porch light from the door of the pub.Now, as he quickened his pace towards it, he felt a jittery beat of excitement and uncertainty at the prospect of seeing her again.He wasn’t sure what he felt for her: lust, need, compulsion, love.But whatever it was, it was strong, like the pull of a drug.Sometimes he veered towards the idea of love because it made him feel he was joining a hitherto closed brotherhood of men who experienced deeper, better feelings; at other times he recoiled from it because, as all sensible men knew, it was a trap.He had barely knocked when Annie opened the door.‘Oh, it’s you!’ she exclaimed.‘Why, who else did you think it was going to be?’‘No one,’ she said, flashing her eyes in reproof.‘So, to what do I owe this pleasure?’‘Aren’t you going to invite me in for a cuppa?’‘Look, I can’t this evening, Billy.I’m really behind.’‘But I’ve come specially.’‘We weren’t meant to be meeting till Saturday.’‘But I’m here now, aren’t I?’ He raised both hands in a gesture of appeal.‘And I’m wet through.’She gave in with a shake of her head and a low laugh.‘Give me half an hour, then.’He stepped forward as if to come in, but she blocked his way.‘No.Go for a drink,’ she said.‘Then I’ll have a chance to sort myself out.’‘I would, but there’s been a bit of a commotion in the pub.A bit of a rumpus.’‘No!’ She was in turn surprised, amused and intrigued.‘Well,’ she declared at last, ‘whatever next? You’d better come in then.’While she was upstairs with the child he made himself at home, hanging up his oilskins, putting the kettle on, fanning the sitting-room fire, which had only just been lit.By the time Annie reappeared, the room was just beginning to warm up.‘Go easy on the coal,’ she said.‘I’m getting short.’‘I’ll bring you some tomorrow.A sack or two, surplus to agricultural requirements.’She pretended disapproval but she didn’t turn the offer down.‘You’ll get me into trouble yet.’‘Chance would be a fine thing.’She rolled her eyes at the ancient joke.‘So what’s been going on in the pub?’‘Some tinkers brought in a couple of Polish lads and there was a bit of a ruckus.’‘Not your Pole?’‘Not likely,’ Billy declared.‘I don’t let him near the pubs.’‘What was it about, the fight?’‘Who knows? But you should have heard them.’ Billy put on his yokel accent, the deep Somerset burr he had been so careful to avoid in his youth.‘“Don’t care where you be coming from, there ain’t no call for this ’ere foreign talk.” ’‘They didn’t say that,’ Annie protested, stifling a laugh.Billy put on a look of injured innocence, the honest witness unfairly challenged.‘I swear! Then one of the Poles answered by falling down dead drunk.And then someone pipes up: “This be a shocking sight! Us good Zomerzet folk don’t ’old with drunkenness, not in these ’ere parts.” ’Annie laughed openly then.She had a beautiful laugh, a soft chuckle that finished on a lingering note, and a way of throwing her head back that made him imagine her in a state of ecstasy.Having given the fire a last prod, Billy marched into the kitchen and made the tea.Following him, Annie looked surprised when she saw the tray he had prepared, complete with teapot, cups, milk jug and sugar bowl.‘My goodness,’ she murmured.‘All organised then.’He carried the tray into the sitting room and put it on a table.Leaving her to pour because that was women’s work, he sat down to one side of the fireplace.It was only the second time he’d got to sit in this room.Usually when he dropped by, Annie kept him standing in the ice-box of a kitchen.In his more sanguine moments he liked to think it was because she didn’t trust herself to be in a warm room with him, but in more realistic mood he knew she was sending him a message, that he would be mistaken to think she was going to be easy game.He hadn’t minded her holding out; it had added to the anticipation.He minded now, though, because time was running out.She put his cup down beside him and took her place on the opposite side of the hearth.Sitting there by the fire drinking tea with the rain rushing and gurgling in the gutters outside, they might have been Darby and Joan.The absurdity of the thought made him laugh.She raised her eyebrows questioningly.‘Nothing,’ he said.‘It’s never nothing with you, Billy.’‘You wouldn’t like it if I told you.’‘In that case, I’m not asking.’She settled further back in her chair and crossed her legs, and he noticed that she was wearing her best nylons and high heels.‘So who were you expecting if it wasn’t me?’ he asked lightly.‘No one.I thought my friend must have forgotten something, that’s all.’‘Oh? What friend was that?’She tilted her head sideways.‘Just a friend.’‘Bad friend? Good friend? Old friend?’She shook her head.Her gaze, though tolerant, contained a hint of rebuke.He put on his actory voice, which was his guard against being taken too seriously.Rounding his eyes like a film villain, he said in deep melodramatic tones, ‘Not a gentleman caller, we trust?’‘You should have been on the stage, Billy
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]