The Sound of Thunder (54 page)

Out into the sunlight and across the street to the rank of hire cabs they walked together, while behind them the uproar was muted-sounding at this distance like the voices of wild animals.

Sean handed Ruth up into the coach and was about to join her before he remembered what there was still to be done. He spoke to the driver and gave him money before coming back to Ruth.

“Please wait for me at the hotel, my dear. ” “Where are you going?”

“I must offer Garry our congratulations.

Through the screen of bodies that surrounded him Garry saw Sean approaching, and he felt his body tensing involuntarily racked by that conflict of hatred and love he bore for this man.

Sean stopped in front of him and smiled. “Well done, Garry!”

he said and offered his right hand. “You beat me in a hard straight fight-and I’d like to shake your hand. ” Garry took the words up with temerity, examined them with growing realization of their meaning and found that they were true. He had fought Sean and beaten him. This was something that could not be destroyed-something that Sean could never take away from him. I’ve beaten him. For the first time-the very first time in all my life” It was an emotional orgasm so intense that for a long moment Garry could not move or make any reply.

“Sean …” His voice choked up. He caught Sean’s outstretched hand in both of his and held it with desperate strength.

“Sean, perhaps now … ” he whispered,

“I’d like to … I mean, when we get back to Ladyburg … ” Then he stopped and blushed scarlet with embarrassment. Quickly he released Sean’s hand and stepped back. “I thought you might like to come out to Theuniskraal,”

he mumbled, “some day when you’re not busy. Look around the old place.

” Then more eagerly,

“It’s been a long time. I’ve still got Pa’s old … ” “Never!” Anna Courtney hissed the word. Neither of them had noticed her cross the hall, but now she appeared suddenly at Garry’s side. Her eyes were bright gems of hatred set in their patterns of wrinkles, and her face was white as she glared at Sean.

“Never,” she hissed again, and took Garry’s arm. “Come with me,” she commanded, and Garry followed her meekly.

But he glanced back at where Sean still stood, and there was a desperate plea in his eyes. A plea for understanding, for forgiveness of this weakness.

Like one who lives in a hurricane belt, and recognizes the shape of clouds and the breathless hush that precedes high wind-Ruth knew she would have to deal with the brooding undirected rage which would be Sean’s reaction to this failure of his plans. His moods came at widely spaced intervals and did not last long-but she feared those moods of his, and like the prudent householder forewarned of the hurricane’s approach, she took precautions to minimize its wrath.

When she reached the hotel she sent an urgent summons to the Manager.

“In half an hour I want lunch served in the suite-not your ordinary bill of fare. Something really good.” The Manager thought a moment. “Oysterl We have a barrel just arrived from UmWanga Rocks.”

“Excellent. ” Ruth liked the man’s response to the emergency.

“Then I could do a smoked ham, cold venison, cold rock lobster, salads? ” “Excellent again. What about cheese?”

“Gruyre. Danish Blue. Camembert.”

“Wine?

“Champagne?”

“Yes,” Ruth agreed instantly. She would shamelessly exploit Sean’s weakness for it. “A bottle of Veuve Clicquot-no, on second thoughts, three bottles. ” “I’ll send the wine up first?”

“Immediately-with your best glass and a silver bucket,” Ruth told him.

Then she fled to her toilet. Thank the Lord for French perfume and this morning dress of grey silk she had been saving for just such an occasion. She worked quickly, but with skill, upon her face and hair, and when she was finished she sat quietly before the mirror and composed her features into an expression of peace. The effect was very satisfactory, she decided after critical contemplations. Since it was the way he had first seen it, Sean could never resist her hair in braids. It made her look like a little girl.

“Shall I open the wine, Madam?”

“Yes, please. ” She called into the sitting-room, then went through to await the onslaught of the hurricane.

Ten minutes later it came wafting in like a gentle zephyr, with a cigar clamped between its teeth, its hands thrust deep into trousers pockets and a bemused expression on its face.

“Hey, now!” Sean stopped when he saw her, and removed the cigar.

“That’s nice!”

The fact that he had noticed her appearance was proof that her weather forecast was hopelessly incorrect and she burst out laughing.

“Whats so funny?” Sean asked mildly Nothing and everything. You and me. Have a glass of champagne.

“Mad woman,” Sean said and kissed her. “I like your hair like this

“Aren’t you disappointed?”

“About the result, you mean? yes, I suppose I am. ” He went to the central table and poured wine into the crystal glasses, handed one to her and took up the other.

“I give you a toast-the short, exciting political career of Sean Courtney. ” “You wanted to win so badly-but now … ?”

Sean nodded. “Yes, I always want to win. But now that the game is lost… ” He shrugged. “Shall I tell you something? I was getting a bit sick of all the speechifying and handshaking.

I feel that even in my sleep I have a vacant grin on my face.”

He crossed to one of the leather armchairs and sank down into it gratefully. “There is something else also. Come here and let me tell you about it. ” She went to him, sat in his lap and slid her hand into the front of his shirt so that she could feel the soft springy hair of his chest, and the hard rubbery flesh beneath.

“Tell me,” she said, and he told her about Garry. He spoke slowly, telling her everything-about the leg, how it was when they were children, and finally, about Michael. She was quiet for a while, and he could see the hurt in her eyes that Sean had been another woman’s lover. At last she asked: “Does Garry know that Michael is your son?”

“Yes. Anna told him one night. She told him the night I left Ladyburg-he wanted to kill me.”

“Why did you leave?

“I couldn’t stay on. Garry hated me for siring his son,- and anna hated me because I would not go to her.”

“She still wanted you, then?”

“Yes. That night-the night I left, Anna came to me and

“Yes.”

Ruth nodded, hurt still and jealous, but making the effort to understand.

“I refused her-and she went to Garry and, in spite, she told him about the child. My God, what a poisonous bitch she is!”

“But if she wanted you, why did she marry Garry?”

“She was with child. She thought I had been killed in the Zulu war-she married him to provide a father for her child.”

“I see, ” Ruth murmured. “But why do you tell me this?

“I wanted you to understand how I feel about Garry. After What he did to you at that meeting I can’t expect you to have much sympathy for him,- but he wasn’t trying to hurt you, he asked me to .

Sean paused. “You know what I mean.

was aiming at me. I owe him so much, I now seem able to pay him.

That’s why … ” “That’s why you are glad he won today?” Ruth finished for him.

“Yes,” Sean answered eagerly. “You see, don’t you, how important this must have been to him. For the first time he was able to … able to … Sean fluttered his hands in confusion as he sought the words.

“He was able to compete with you on equal terms,” Ruth supplied them for him.

“Exactly!” Sean struck the arm of his chair with clenched fist.

“When I went to congratulate him, he was ready to meet me. He invited me out to Theuniskraal-just then that evil, bloody woman interfered and took him away. But somehow I know it’s going to be all right now. ” A knock on the outer door interrupted him, and Ruth jumped up from his lap.

“That will be the waiter with the lunch,” but before she was halfway across the room, the knock was repeated with such Insistence that it threatened to loosen the plaster.

“I’m coming.” Irritated, Ruth raised her voice and swung the door open.

Led by Bob Sampson a flood of men rushed into the room; jabbering and gesticulating they bore down on Sean.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded.

“You’ve won!” shouted Bob. “A recount, you won on a recount-by ten votes!”

“My God!” breathed Sean, and then so softly that only Ruth heard him,

“Garry. Poor Garry!”

“Open that champagne-send for another case. We’re in solidly-all of us!” exulted Bob Sampson. “So let’s drink to the Union of South Africa!”

“Not even this once. Out of so many times, so many thing snot even this once.” Already Garry Courtney was drunk. He lay deep in his chair with a tumbler held in both hands, stirring the brown liquid with a circular movement so a few drops slopped over the rim and stained the cloth of his trousers.

“No,” agreed Anna. “Not even this once.” She stood with her back to him, staring out of the window of their suite into the ga slit street below, for she did not want him to see her face. But she could not control the harsh, gloating quality of her voice.

“Now you can go back to writing your little books. You’ve made your point-you’ve proved to yourself and the rest of the world how effective you are. ” Moving her hands slowly, she began to massage her own upper arms with sensual pleasure. A tiny shudder thrilled her so she moved restlessly and her skirts rustled like leaves in the wind.

God, how close it had been-and she had been afraid.

“You’re a loser, Garry Courtney. You have always bee nand you will always be. ” Again she shuddered with the memory of her fear. He had so nearly escaped. She had seen it begin from the moment the first result was announced, every minute it had grown stronger. Even his voice had changed, deeper with the first hint of confidence in it. He had looked at her strangely, without submission, with the beginning of his contempt. Then the flare of rebellion when he had spoken to Sean Courtney. She had been truly afraid then.

“You are a loser,” she repeated, and heard the sound he made-half-gulp, half-sigh. She waited and when she heard the soft gurgle of brandy poured from bottle to glass she hugged herself tighter and now she smiled as she remembered the announcement of the recount.

The way he had shrunk, the way he had crumpled and turned to her with all of it gone-the confidence and contempt wiped away. Gone!

Gone for ever. Sean Courtney would never have him. She had made that oath-and now it would be kept.

As so many times before, she played over in her mind the details of that night. The night she had made the oath.

It was raining. She was standing on the wide stoep of Theuniskraal, and Sean was leading his horse up across the lawns of Theuniskraal. The damp linen of his shirt clung to his shoulders and chest, the rain had made his beard break out in tiny curls so he looked like a mischievous pirate,

“Where’s Garry? ” Her own voice, and his voice answering.

“Don’t worry. He’s gone into town to see Ada. He’ll be back by supper-time. ” Then he was coming up the steps towards her, standing tall above her, and his hand on her arm was cold from the rain.

“You must take better care of yourself now. You can’t stand in the cold any more. “And he led her through the french doors.

The top of her head was on a level with his shoulders, and his eyes as he looked down at her were gentle with masculine awe of pregnancy

“You’re a damn fine woman, Anna. And I’m sure you’re going to make a fine baby.

“Sean!” She remembered how his name had come up her throat like an involuntary exclamation of pain. The fierce forward surge that had flattened her body against his, arching to send her hips forward searchingfbr his manhood. The coarse electric feeling of his hair in her hands as she pulled his face down and the taste of his mouth opened warm and moist.

“Are you mad! ” As he tried to break away from her, her arms locked around his body and her face pressed to his chest.

“I love you. Please, Sean, please. Just let me hold you, that’s all. I just want to hold you. ” “Get away from me! “And she felt herself thrown roughly on to the couch beside the fireplace.

“You’re Garry’s wife and you’ll soon be the mother of his child.

Keep your hot little body for him. ” And his face thrust forward, close to hers. “I don’t want you. I could no more touch you than I could go with my own mother. You’re Garrys wife.

If ever again you look at another man I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you with my bare hands. ” Love congealing instantly, transformed to hatred by his words Her fingernails raking across his cheek so the blood slid down into his beard, and he caught her wrists. Holding her while she struggled and screamed at him.

“You swine, you dirty, dirty swine. Garry’s wife you say.

Garry’s baby you say! Now hear the truth. What I have within me you put there. It’s yours-not Garry’s! ” Then he was backing away from her. “You’re lying. It can’t be. ” Following him now, speaking those cruel words softly. “You remember how we said good-bye when you went to war? You remember that night in the wagon? ” “Leave me, leave me alone. I’ve got to think. I didn’t know.

And he was gone. She heard the door of his study slam, and she stood in the centre of the floor while the storm surf of her anger abated and exposed the black reefs of hatred beneath.

Then she was alone in her bedroom, standing before the mirror-making her oath.

“I hate him. There’s one thing I can take from him. Garry belongs to me now. Mine, not his. I will take that away from him. ” The pins pulled from her hair, so it tumbled to her shoulders.

Her fingers tangling it into confusion. Teeth closing on her own lips so she could taste the blood.

“Oh God, I hate him, ” she whispered through the pain. Tearing open the blouse of her dress, watching in the mirror the great pink bosses of her nipples already darkening with the promise of fruition

“I hate him. ” Pantaloons torn and discarded, bowls of face powder and cosmetics swept from the dressing-table to burst and fill the room with the pungent reek of joerfitme.