The Thousand Faces of Night - Jack Higgins [25]
Marlowe remembered the many times he had lain on the cot in his cell listening to that same sound and longing to be free. 'It's just about the saddest sound in the world,' he said, with feeling.
For a brief moment they were very close. It was as if each had discovered in the other something they had not realized existed. A warm smile blossomed on Maria's face and she said, 'Come into the kitchen and I'll make you a cup of tea. You've had a hard morning.'
He followed her along the corridor and into the large, old-fashioned farm kitchen, warm with the smell of cooking. He sat on the edge of the table, swinging a leg and smoking a cigarette and felt at peace in a way that he hadn't experienced for a long time.
He watched her as she moved about the room, preparing the tea. Her limbs were softly rounded and as she bent down to pick up a cloth, her dress tightened showing the sweeping curve of her thigh and accentuating her large hips. Real childbearing hips, he mused to himself.
His thoughts drifted idly to Jenny O'Connor with her boyish slimness and he tried to compare the two women. He decided it was impossible. Jenny had a tremendous surface attractiveness, something completely animal that gripped a man by the bowels like a fever, lighting a fire that could only be extinguished by full and complete possession.
With Maria he knew it would be something very different. A sensuality that smouldered deep inside, ready to burst into a flame which could never be extinguished. She was a woman who would demand much, but who would give greatly in return.
She turned from the stove and handed him his tea. Her smile was like a lamp switching on inside her, illuminating her whole face. 'I think I owe you an apology, Hugh,' she said.
It was the second time within half an hour that she had used his Christian name. He frowned slightly. 'What are you talking about?'
She coloured and nervously played with her hands. 'I've been pretty unpleasant. You see, somehow I got the impression that you weren't really interested in our problems. I thought you were just using us because you needed a job.'
'And what makes you think I'm not?' he demanded.
That wonderful deep smile turned on again. 'Now, I know you're doing everything you can to help Papa. You've proved it.'
Marlowe sipped his tea and schooled his face to steadiness. Why did she have to put her own interpretation on everything he did? Couldn't she see that everything he had done so far had been done because he didn't like being pushed around? He was bitterly angry and he stood up and walked quickly to the window. He had to clench his teeth to keep himself from making an angry reply and yet, in his heart, he knew that it wasn't Maria he was annoyed with. It was himself. In some queer way he was sorry that he was not the kind of man that she believed him to be.
She moved beside him and placed a hand on his arm. 'What is it, Hugh?' she said. 'What's the matter?'
Her faint, womanly odour filled his nostrils and he was acutely aware of her physically. He turned abruptly, his hands reaching out and grasping her arms, and an answering flame flared in her eyes. At that moment the front door opened and Mac shouted, 'Hugh, are you in, boy? We got trouble.'
Marlowe released her and turned to the door as the Jamaican entered. There was excitement on his face and he pushed his cap back and brushed sweat from his brow. 'Man, am I glad you're here.'
'What's happened?' Marlowe demanded. 'Don't tell me O'Connor's started up in the coal business?'
Mac nodded. 'That's it, boy. That guy Kennedy who used to work here. He's delivering coal in the village. I've made several calls on farms and they've all told me the same story. Kennedy called today and told them Papa Magellan had given up the coal delivery side and that he'd taken over.'
'But he can't do that,' Maria cried. Her eyes filled with tears and she sank down into a chair. 'It isn't fair, Hugh. It isn't