The Stranger Came (30 page)

'Have
you
fallen
asleep?'
Gently
he
rocked
her
in
the nook
of
his
arm.

'Dreaming
.’
She
turned
her
head
and
raising
herself
licked
her
tongue
like
a
cat
along
the
muscle
of
his
chest.
His
flesh
smelled
sweet
to
her
but
his
taste
was
salt.
'I
dreamt
I
could
eat
you.’

For
answer
he
caught
her
by
the
nape
and
shook
her
playfully.
His
grip
was
powerful
and
gentle
at
the
same
time;
he
was
like
a
lion.
It
was
a
comparison
she
would
have
blushed
to
use
aloud,
even
to
him
in
this
intimacy.
Least
of
all
to
him:
she
could
imagine
his
shout
of
laughter;
imagine
the
slyly
conscious
profile
he
would
offer
to
her
of
the
romantic
hero.
She
would
not
risk
that
he
should
learn
the
beginning
of
despising
her.
It
pleased
her
in
her
thoughts
that
he
should
be
a
lion.
By
the
tender
kneading
grip
he
had
taken
of
her
she
let
herself
be
pressed
close
until,
mock
menacingly,
she
worried
the
hard
little
button
of
his
nipple
between
her
teeth.
After
they
had
made
love
was
the
sweetest
time
for
her.

'But
it
wasn't
her;
it
was
him
who
was
so
angry.’
She
laid
her
head
on
his
chest.
'After
she
went
back
to
her
own
table,
I
would
have
got
up
and
left
if
I
had
been
him,
but
he
stayed
and
kept
smiling
and
talking
at
me.
The
whole
thing
made
me
ravenous
and
I
told
him
I
had
to
go
and
eat.
But
he
wouldn't
leave
–
it
was
so
childish.
He
wouldn't
go.’

'Pride.
She
had
to
leave
before
he
would.’

'As
if
that
would
prove
anything.
Anyway,
they
were
settled
in
for
the
evening
as
far
as
I
could
see.
Maybe
they'd
eaten
before
they
came
in
or
maybe
they
didn't
need
food
as
long
as
they
could
drink.
My
God!
That
crowd
could
drink.
And
the
place
kept
getting
more
and
more
crowded.
It
was
all
smoke
and
voices
and
glasses
banging
down.
It
began
a
headache.
And
every
time
that
gang
behind
laughed
about
something –
I
don't
know
how
to
describe
it,
his
face
went
stiff.
And
then
he'd
smile
and begin
to
talk
very
fast.
It
got
to
the
stage
I'd
had
enough.
I
couldn't
take
any
more.
I
walked
out
and
left
him
to
it.’

Maitland
was
amused.
'Poor
devil!
I
don't
imagine
he's run
up
against
many
like
Viv
in
full
song.’

'You
didn't
see
his
hand
shaking.’

'A
bad
case
of
wounded
vanity.’

'Rage.
Apart
from
his
hands
he
could
hide
it.
But
he couldn't
stop
his
hands
from
shaking.’

'I
wish
you'd
stayed.
I'd
dearly
like
to
know
what
happened
after
you
left.’

'He
told
me
the
next
day.’

'…
So?'

'He
outstayed
them
–
after
they
left,
he
left.’

His
chest
rose
and
fell,
lifting
her
head
on
the
little
coughing
spasms
of
laughter.
'The
drama
ends
in
anti-climax.’

She
lifted
herself
so
that
she
could
watch
his
face.
'He
tried
to
get
into
my
room
when
he
came
back.’
He
let
the
last
dribble
of
laughter
go
and
sighed.
'It
was
late.
He
tried
the
door
but
I'd
put
the
lock
on.’

Maitland
rolled
away
from
her
and
got
out
of
the
bed.
He
had
strong
shoulders
and
the
muscles
on
his
back
tightened
as
he
stretched
his
arms
and
yawned.
She
wanted
to
touch
the
hard
white
rounds
of
his
buttocks.
She
wanted
him
to
come
back
to
bed;
she
wanted
to
take
his
weight
upon
her
again.
Pulling
on
his
shirt,
he
said,
'If
he
was
trying
the
handle
of
your
door
after
a
night's
drinking,
I
shouldn't
imagine
it
was
anger
that
was
bothering
him.’

'Is
that
what
was
supposed
to
happen?'

In
the
act
of
buttoning
the
shirt,
his
hands
stilled.
'That's
an
interesting
tone.’

She
swallowed
but
went
on,
'Was
I
supposed
to
let
him
make
love
to
me?'

His
hands
moved
again,
quickly,
fastening
the
buttons
into
place.
'It
wouldn't
have
pleased
me,
no.
My
tastes
are
less
esoteric.’