gns.snakes-第25部分

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ing　yet？'
　　
　　'We'd　better　leave　it　a　bit。'　No　use　exhausting　ourselves；　every　hour　from　now　onwards　is　going　to　take　it　out　of　us。　'If　I　know　my　mum　she'll　have　raised　the　alarm　by　now。　We　can　keep　the　windows　open　an　inch　or　so　and　listen。　As　soon　as　we　think　we　hear　anybody　we'll　yell　our　heads　off。'
　　
　　But　there　was　only　silence。　Just　the　buzzing　of　insects　in　the　surrounding　undergrowth。　They　might　have　been　a　thousand　miles　from　civilisation；　marooned　on　a　dried…up　waterhole　in　the　middle　of　some　vast　arid　desert。
　　
　　Keith　had　dozed。　Suddenly　he　was　awoken　by　a　movement；　jerking　him　back　to　reality；　not　the　restless　stirring　of　his　panion；　but　a　sudden　surge　by　Kirsten；　the　click　of　the　catch　on　the　passenger　door；　the　creaking　of　rusty　hinges。
　　
　　He　moved　fast；　grabbed　her　shoulder　with　one　hand；　reached　across　and　slammed　the　door　with　the　other；　locked　it。
　　
　　'Stop　it！'　She　let　out　a　scream；　struck　at　him　with　clenched　fists。　Her　features　were　screwed　up　into　a　mask　of　panic　and　desperation；　her　voice　shrill　with　rising　hysteria。　'Let　go　of　me；　Keith。　You've　no　right　to　keep　me　here　against　my　will。　I'm　going　to　jump　out；　run　for　the　road。'
　　
　　'You'd　maybe　get　ten　yards。'　He　snatched　her　wrists；　held　them　in　a　strong　grip。　'If　that。　You　bloody　stupid　girl；　you　wouldn't　have　a　chance。　Your　only　hope　is　to　stay　here。'
　　
　　She　struggled　frantically；　tried　to　bite　him；　was　twisting　her　body　round　in　order　to　free　her　legs　so　that　she　could　kick　him。　'Let　go　of　me；　you　bastard。　You　brute；　I'll　。　。　。'
　　
　　That　was　when　he　hit　her；　released　his　hold　on　her　and　in　the　same　movement　brought　the　flat　of　his　hand　hard　across　her　face；　threw　her　head　back。　She　screamed　but　her　struggles　stopped。　And　then　she　began　to　cry　uncontrollably。
　　
　　'I'm　sorry。'　He　pulled　her　to　him；　kissed　her　tenderly；　'Believe　me；　Kirsten；　I'm　so　sorry。'
　　
　　'And　I'm　sorry　too；'　she　replied　after　a　while；　squeezed　his　hand。　'I　must　have　been　mad。　I　don't　know　what　came　over　me；　only　that　I　felt　I'd　go　crazy　if　I　stayed　in　here　a　second　longer。　I　promise　I　won't　do　it　again。'
　　
　　'I　hope　not；'　He　reached　under　the　seat；　came　out　with　a　hammer；　placed　it　in　the　glove…box；　stail　sticking　out。　'See　that？'
　　
　　'What's　that　for；　to　hit　the　snake　over　the　head　with？'
　　
　　'For　you　to　hit　me　over　the　head　with　if　I　suddenly　try　to　make　a　break　for　it。　Just　hammer　me　good　and　hard；　lay　me　out。'　There　were　times　when　you　had　to　make　a　joke　out　of　a　crisis。
　　
　　They　both　laughed。
　　
　　Then　it　was　back　to　waiting。　And　praying。
　　
　　For　once　Joan　Doyle　had　not　waited　up　for　her　son　to　e　in。　He'd　be　all　right；　he'd　only　gone　down　to　the　Davises　and　you　could　not　really　expect　a　man　（she　was　repeatedly　trying　to　convince　herself　these　days　that　Keith　was　no　longer　a　boy）　to　be　home　prompt　from　courting。
　　
　　At　eleven　o'clock　she　made　herself　a　cup　of　tea　and　sat　and　drank　it　in　the　kitchen。　It　was　one　of　those　evenings　when　she　found　herself　indulging　in　reflections；　a　nostalgic　mood　brought　on　by　her　son's　courting。　She　hoped　that　he　would　marry　Kirsten；　in　a　way　it　would　be　like　getting　married　herself　all　over　again；　reliving　their　happiness；　remembering　how　things　had　once　been　between　herself　and　Bob。
　　
　　She　knew　that　she　could　be　very　attractive　if　she　took　the　trouble　to　make　herself　up；　forty…four　was　no　age；　really。　There　was　plenty　of　time　left　to　find　herself　a　man；　start　all　over　again。　No；　definitely　no！　It　would　not　be　the　same　the　second　time　round；　far　better　to　grow　old　with　the　memories　she　already　had；　just　remember　that　one　chunk　of　her　life　from　twenty　to　thirty…two；　the　best　years。　All　the　same；　sometimes　she　despaired　at　the　thought　that　in　all　probability　she　would　never　ever　enjoy　a　physical　relationship　with　a　man　again；　the　thought　could　age　one　prematurely；　turn　you　into　a　kind　of　maiden　aunt。　If　you　let　it。
　　
　　She　felt　guilty　about　the　things　she　sometimes　did　to　herself　in　the　solitude　and　privacy　of　her　own　bed　on　those　nights　when　the　urge　got　too　much　for　her。　A　flood　of　guilt　just　confessing　to　herself　that。。。　whatever　would　Keith　think　of　her　if　he　ever　found　out？　The　shame　of　it　all。　But　he　wasn't　likely　to；　there　was　no　way　he　was　going　to　know　unless　she　told　him　and　she　would　never　admit　to　that　even　with　her　dying　breath。
　　
　　The　mood　was　ing　on　her　tonight　and　she　knew　she　could　not　stop　it。　That　was　one　reason　why　she　wasn't　going　to　sit　up　and　wait　for　Keith；　she　found　all　kinds　of　other　excuses　but　she　knew　the　real　one　and　it　made　her　feel　guilty。
　　
　　She　left　the　hallway　light　on　and　went　upstairs。　Keith　would　be　all　right。
　　
　　Joan　Doyle　studied　her　nakedness　in　the　full…length　wardrobe　mirror；　experienced　a　glow　of　self…satisfaction。　Her　figure　was　still　passable；　her　breasts　were　still　firm　and　had　not　sagged；　just　a　few　wrinkles　on　her　stomach　and　a　couple　of　stretch　marks。　She　would　not　be　ashamed　to　let　a　man　see　her　nude。　That　in　itself　was　an　exciting　thought。
　　
　　Her　inhibitions　always　disappeared　when　she　put　the　light　out；　it　was　as　though　she　stepped　into　another　world。
　　
　　She　tossed　the　sheets　aside　and　lowered　herself　on　to　the　bed；　smoothed　her　fingers　sensuously　up　and　down　the　insides　of　her　thighs；　escalated　her　feelings。　She　was　quivering　all　over；　trembling　with　anticipation；　determined　to　take　her　time　and　enjoy　every　second　of　it。　Goodness；　it　was　ages　since　she　had　been　in　a　mood　as　strong　as　this；　if　a　man　had　walked　into　the　bedroom　right　now　she　would　have　let　him　have　his　way；　pleaded　with　him　to　do　it　if　necessary。　Seduced　him；　thrown　herself　at　him。
　　
　　A　thought　crossed　her　mind；　she　wondered　if　Keith　and　Kirsten　did　。　。　。　no；　she　didn't　want　to　think　about　it。　Just　herself；　the　time　that　soldier　had　dated　her；　the　year　before　she　had　met　Bob；　had　walked　her　across　the　fields　and　down　to　the　meadow　by　the　river。　She　had　told　him　'no'　over　and　over　again　but　finally　she　had　said　'yes'　and　they　had　not　got　home　until　well　after　midnight。
　　
　　She　couldn't　hold　off　much　longer；　her　slender　fingers　going　to　places　she　had　been　determined　to　keep　them　away　from　for　a　while　yet；　moving　faster　and　faster。　And　faster。　Her　whole　body　was　caught　up　in　a　maelstrom；　taut　as　a　bowstring。　And　then　everything　seemed　to　give。　She　thrashed　and　writhed；　rolled　from　one　side　of　the　bed　to　the　other　and　back　again；　over　on　to　her　stomach；　crying　her　joy　into　the　pillow。
　　
　　The　aftermath　was　so　relaxing；　like　floating　in　a　warm　bubble　bath　without　a　care　in　the　world；　savouring　the　drowsiness；　trying　to　hold　off　sleep　as　long　as　she　could。　Was　that　a　door　closing　downstairs？　She　couldn't　be　sure　but　anyway　it　was　a　good　job　that　Keith　was　late　home　because　he　might　have　heard　her　otherwise。　She　would　have　to　be　careful　in　future　but　it　would　be　a　long　time　before　she　got　in　a　mood　as　strong　as　that　again。
　　
　　Her　fantasies　and　memories　followed　her　into　sleep。　Bob；　tall　and　strong　on　their　wedding　night。　She　had　lied　and　told　him　she　was　a　virgin。　She　couldn't　have　done　otherwise　without　admitting　to　having　gone　with　Alistair　that　evening　and　she'd　never　do　that。
　　
　　In　the　darkened　council…semi　nuptial　chamber；　she　was　aware　of　her　new　husband　alongside　her；　of　his　efforts　at　marital　seduction。　Secretly　she　was　crying　out　for　him　to　roll　on　top　of　her。　Those　rough　hands　of　his；　a　brickie's　callouses　scraping　their　way　up　her　legs。　She　eased　her　thighs　apart；　an　invitation　to　him　to　feel　in　between　them。　Go　on；　Bob；　touch　me　there。
　　
　　He　did；　but　somehow　it　was　no　longer　sensuous；　his　roughness　abrasive　to　her　own　sensitivity；　a　cold　hard　probing　finger　when　it　should　have　been　soft　and　warm。　Another　movement　that　hurt　her；　gouged　her　soft　moist　flesh；　catapulted　her　back　into　wakefulness。
　　
　　If　it　was　an　erotic　dream　then　it　did　not　vanish　with　waking。　The　hand　feeling　her　was　still　there；　clumsily　manipulating　female　organs　that　shut　off　instantly。　She　sat　up；　wanted　to　push　it　away。
　　
　　And　at　that　moment　she　saw　it；　a　long　dark　shape　like　a　trailing　length　of　rope　starkly　outlined　against　the　white　background　of　the　under　sheet；　draped　from　the　foot　of　the　bed　right　up　on　to　her　unclothed　body。　Moving；　wriggling；　a　squat　head　erect　and　looking　down　at　her。
　　
　　She　did　not　scream；　she　was　incapable　of　doing　anything　except　lie　there　and　watch　with　terrified　fascination　and　loathing；　its　very　touch　robbing　her　of　all　her　powers。　Her　mind　was　a　total　blank；　clinging　to　disbelief；　seeing　it　move　nearer　。　。　。　and　nearer。
　　
　　The　reptilian　intruder　struck　with　a　lightning　lunge　of　its　head；　buried　its　fangs　into　the　soft　flesh　of　a　breast；　the　terrified　woman　arching　upwards　with　sudden　pain；　her　spinal　cord　cracking　under　the　pressure。　Her　body　was　on　fire；　a　burning　sensation　spreading　out　in　all　directions；　flaying　arms　and　legs；　slapping　and　kicking　and　trying　to　dislodge　the　creature　that　was　now　entwining　itself　around　her。　So　cold；　so　strong；　so　dominant　in　an　obscene　simulation　of　reptilian　and　human　copulation。
　　
　　Joan　Doyle　screamed　just　once　before　she　died；　subconsci