The Fog - James Herbert [13]
Holman had tried to get Casey – her real name was Christine, but he had invented the nickname for reasons he hadn’t told her of yet – to leave her father’s house and get a flat of her own. This she would have done had he allowed her to live with him, but there he’d drawn the line. After two previous disastrous affairs he had resolved never to become too entangled with one person again. He had been near to it many times and even proposed marriage once, but the girl backed out because she knew, and realized she had always known, that he didn’t love her. That had been years before, and now he wondered if he were really capable of love. He had gradually lost most of his cynicism on that topic during the months he had known Casey. He still resisted, but guessed he was fighting a losing battle. Maybe he was getting old, resigning himself to the fact he needed a companion, that although he’d never been quite alone, he hadn’t shared for a long, long time.
Casey was breaking down that barrier just as he was breaking down the closeness between her and her father. The process was gradual, but inevitable. Still, each of them offered resistance. She would not leave her father without the assurance of someone taking his place; he refused to be that someone, the move had to come from her before she had the guarantee of someone to run to. Holman was older than Casey, but had no intention of becoming a father-figure. At the moment, it was deadlock.
Now, in her anxiety, as she waited for the phone to ring, Casey knew she would do as he asked. She understood his reasons. It would hurt her father terribly, but it wasn’t as though she would never see him again. And perhaps when he realized she was determined, his iciness towards John would begin to thaw. If it didn’t, then she knew she would have to go through the agony of choosing again, but this time for keeps. And she knew it would be her father who would lose.
She waited till 3.00 p.m., then rang Holman’s office again. This time they had some news. They apologized for not having let her know sooner but all hell had broken loose in their department because of the earthquake. These things just weren’t meant to happen in England! A man identified as John Holman, whose papers showed he worked for the Department of the Environment, had been taken to Salisbury General Hospital, where he was in an extreme state of shock. When Casey pressed them for details, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing, they became evasive, but assured her that John had suffered no physical damage. Again, they advised her to keep clear of the area and promised they would keep her informed of any developments.
Casey thanked them and replaced the receiver. Then she rang the hospital itself. The operator apologized, told her that the hospital was jammed with calls and suggested she try later.
Numbed, she scribbled a note to her father, looked for the town on a road-map, and hurried out to her bright yellow saloon car, a present from her father. She avoided driving through London by going north then around on the North Circular.
She bypassed Basingstoke and Andover, taking minor roads, knowing the towns would be jammed with traffic. On the outskirts of Salisbury, she ran into heavy traffic being held up by the police. Drivers of cars were being crossed-examined as to their destination, and unless their reasons for travel were genuine and