Comes the Dark Stranger - Jack Higgins [45]
For a moment she gazed at him with something suspiciously like tears trembling in her eyes and then she took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m going to use the tweezers now. I’ll try not to hurt you.’
As he felt the first, sharp stabbing pain, he stifled a groan. ‘How bad is it?’
‘You were right,’ she told him. ‘It’s nothing like as serious as it looked at first. There are three pellets a few inches apart, just under the skin.’ He chewed hard on the corner of a cushion while she got the pellets out. As she started to clean the wounds she said, ‘What happened to Reggie? Where is he now?’
‘Still at the cottage,’ he told her with a chuckle. ‘Last I saw of him, he was looking decidedly the worse for wear in more ways than one.’
She quickly fixed strips of surgical tape in position and then got to her feet. ‘You look all in,’ she said. ‘Lie back and put up your feet and I’ll make you a cup of coffee, then I’ll get you one of Dad’s shirts.’
Suddenly Shane felt tired. He gently eased his sore back against a couple of cushions and lit a cigarette. He could hear her moving about in the kitchen and somehow the sound was comforting and right.
After a while she came in with a tray and placed it on a stool beside him. As she poured coffee into two cups she said, ‘What do you intend to do next?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll go down to the club and get those letters. Do you want to come with me?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d like to, Martin, but it can’t be done. I daren’t leave my father on his own. He’s not been at all well these last few days.’
As she poured cream into the coffee she went on, ‘What will you do afterwards - about the other matter, I mean?’
Shane swallowed some of his coffee and sighed. ‘I don’t know, Laura. I don’t now at all. Time is running out for me, and somehow the things that seemed important are meaningless now.’
‘And what is important, Martin?’ she said softly.
‘You are,’ he said.
She was sitting on the end of the divan gazing out of the window and now she turned her head slowly and looked directly at him. She was wearing a cardigan in a soft pink wool that clung to the curve of her breast and a superbly tailored skirt that fitted her like a second skin.
For a long breathless moment they looked at each other and then she put down her cup and got to her feet. She moved forward and stood beside him and then her hand reached out to the lamp and the room was plunged into darkness.
He lay there, his throat dry and listened to the rustle of her clothing as she undressed and then she was in his arms, her supple body melting into him and as he covered her face with kisses he could taste the salt of her tears upon his lips.
He was aware that he had slept, but for how long it was impossible to judge. The room was in darkness and he was alone and yet a faint, elusive trace of her perfume still hung upon the warm air.
His hand found the switch of the table lamp and the darkness retreated into the corners of the room. Shane swung his legs to the floor and yawned. There was a bad taste in his mouth and his back was still sore. He glanced at his watch. It was only a few minutes after midnight so he couldn’t have slept for long.
He picked up his wet jacket and went to the door and opened it. When he went down the steps and walked up towards the house, the night air felt cold on his bare skin and he shivered and quickened his steps.
There was a light on in the kitchen and the Dobermann was curled up on a rug in a corner by the fire. He opened one eye and looked steadily at Shane for a moment and then closed it again, satisfied.
An airing rack festooned with various articles of laundry hung from the ceiling and Shane pulled down a white shirt and put it on quickly. It needed ironing badly, but it was clean and dry and he decided it would have to do him for the moment. He opened the other door and walked along the dark corridor which led towards the front of the house.
The hall was quiet and he walked towards the drawing-room door at the bottom of which a thin line of light showed and hesitated as he heard