James Bond Anthology (153 page)

‘I’m afraid I do,’ said Bond truthfully. ‘I expect they’re much nicer and more interesting than humans.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said the girl thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know many human people. Most of the ones I have met have been hateful. But I suppose they can be interesting too.’ She paused. ‘I hadn’t ever really thought of liking them like I like the animals. Except for Nanny, of course. Until …’ She broke off with a shy laugh. ‘Well, anyway we all lived happily together until I was fifteen and Nanny died and then things got difficult. There was a man called Mander. A horrible man. He was the white overseer for the people who own the property. He kept coming to see me. He wanted me to move up to his house near Port Maria. I hated him and I used to hide when I heard his horse coming through the cane. One night he came on foot and I didn’t hear him. He was drunk. He came into the cellar and fought with me because I wouldn’t do what he wanted me to do. You know, the things people in love do.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘I tried to kill him with my knife, but he was very strong and he hit me as hard as he could in the face and broke my nose. He knocked me unconscious and then I think he did things to me. I mean I know he did. Next day I wanted to kill myself when I saw my face and when I found what he had done. I thought I would have a baby. I would certainly have killed myself if I’d had a baby by that man. Anyway, I didn’t, so that was that. I went to the doctor and he did what he could for my nose and didn’t charge me anything. I didn’t tell him about the rest. I was too ashamed. The man didn’t come back. I waited and did nothing until the next cane-cutting. I’d got my plan. I was waiting for the Black Widow spiders to come in for shelter. One day they came. I caught the biggest of the females and shut her in a box with nothing to eat. They’re the bad ones, the females. Then I waited for a dark night without any moon. I took the box with the spider in it and walked and walked until I came to the man’s house. It was very dark and I was frightened of the duppies I might meet on the road but I didn’t see any. I waited in his garden in the bushes and watched him go up to bed. Then I climbed a tree and got on to his balcony. I waited there until I heard him snoring and then I crept through the window. He was lying naked on the bed under the mosquito net. I lifted the edge and opened the box and shook the spider out on to his stomach. Then I went away and came home.’

‘God Almighty!’ said Bond reverently. ‘What happened to him?’

She said happily, ‘He took a week to die. It must have hurt terribly. They do, you know. The obeahmen say there’s nothing like it.’ She paused. When Bond made no comment, she said anxiously, ‘You don’t think I did wrong, do you?’

‘It’s not a thing to make a habit of,’ said Bond mildly. ‘But I can’t say I blame you the way it was. So what happened then?’

‘Well then I just settled down again,’ her voice was matter -of -fact. ‘I had to concentrate on getting enough food, and of course all I wanted to do was save up money to get my nose made good again.’ She said persuasively, ‘It really was quite a pretty nose before. Do you think the doctors can put it back to how it was?’

‘They can make it any shape you like,’ said Bond definitely. ‘What did you make money at?’

‘It was the encyclopedia. It told me that people collect seashells. That one could sell the rare ones. I talked to the local schoolmaster, without telling him my secret of course, and he found out that there’s an American magazine called
Nautilus
for shell collectors. I had just enough money to subscribe to it and I began looking for the shells that people said they wanted in the advertisements. I wrote to a dealer in Miami and he started buying from me. It was thrilling. Of course I made some awful mistakes to begin with. I thought people would like the prettiest shells, but they don’t. Very often they want the ugliest. And then when I found rare ones I cleaned them and polished them to make them look better. That’s wrong too. They want shells just as they come out of the sea, with the animal in and all. So I got some formalin from the doctor and put it into the live shells to stop them smelling and sent them off to this man in Miami. I only got it right about a year ago and I’ve already made fifteen pounds. I’d worked out that now I knew how they wanted them, and if I was lucky, I ought to make at least fifty pounds a year. Then in ten years I would be able to go to America and have the operation. And then,’ she giggled delightedly, ‘I had a terrific stroke of luck. I went over to Crab Key. I’d been there before, but this was just before Christmas, and I found these purple shells. They didn’t look very exciting, but I sent one or two to Miami and the man wrote back at once and said he could take as many as I could get at five dollars each for the whole ones. He said that I must keep the place where they live a dead secret as otherwise we’d what he called “spoil the market” and the price would get cheaper. It’s just like having one’s private gold mine. Now I may be able to save up the money in five years. That’s why I was so suspicious of you when I found you on my beach. I thought you’d come to steal my shells.’

‘You gave me a bit of a shock. I thought you must be Doctor No’s girl friend.’

‘Thanks very much.’

‘But when you’ve had the operation, what are you going to do then? You can’t go on living alone in a cellar all your life.’

‘I thought I’d be a call girl.’ She said it as she might have said ‘nurse’ or ‘secretary’.

‘Oh, what do you mean by that?’ Perhaps she had picked up the expression without understanding it.

‘One of those girls who has a beautiful flat and lovely clothes. You know what I mean,’ she said impatiently. ‘People ring them up and come and make love to them and pay them for it. They get a hundred dollars for each time in New York. That’s where I thought I’d start. Of course,’ she admitted, ‘I might have to do it for less to begin with. Until I learned to do it really well. How much do you pay the untrained ones?’

Bond laughed. ‘I really can’t remember. It’s quite a long time since I had one.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose you can have as many women as you want for nothing. I suppose it’s only the ugly men that pay. But that can’t be helped. Any kind of job in the big towns must be dreadful. At least you can earn much more being a call girl. Then I can come back to Jamaica and buy Beau Desert. I’d be rich enough to find a nice husband and have some children. Now that I’ve found these Venus shells I’ve worked out that I might be back in Jamaica by the time I’m thirty. Won’t that be lovely?’

‘I like the last part of the plan. But I’m not so sure of the first. Anyway, where did you find out about these call girls? Were they under C in the encyclopedia?’

‘Of course not. Don’t be silly. There was a big case about them in New York about two years ago. There was a rich playboy called Jelke. He had a whole string of girls. There was a lot about the case in the
Gleaner
. They gave all the prices and everything. And anyway, there are thousands of those sort of girls in Kingston, only of course not such good ones. They only get about five shillings and they have nowhere to go and do it except the bush. My nanny told me about them. She said I mustn’t grow up like them or I’d be very unhappy. I can see that for only five shillings. But for a hundred dollars …!’

Bond said, ‘You wouldn’t be able to keep all of that. You’d have to have a sort of manager to get the men, and then you’d have to bribe the police to leave you alone. And you could easily go to prison if something went wrong. I really don’t think you’d like the work. I’ll tell you what, with all you know about animals and insects and so on you could get a wonderful job looking after them in one of the American zoos. Or what about the Jamaica Institute? I’m sure you’d like that better. You’d be just as likely to meet a nice husband. Anyway you mustn’t think of being a call girl any more. You’ve got a beautiful body. You must keep it for the men you love.’

‘That’s what people say in books,’ she said doubtfully. ‘The trouble is there aren’t any men to love at Beau Desert.’ She said shyly, ‘You’re the first Englishman I’ve ever talked to. I liked you from the beginning. I don’t mind telling you these things at all. I suppose there are plenty of other people I should like if I could get away.’

‘Of course there are. Hundreds. And you’re a wonderful girl. I thought so directly I saw you.’

‘Saw my behind, you mean.’ The voice was getting drowsy, but it was full of pleasure.

Bond laughed. ‘Well, it was a wonderful behind. And the other side was wonderful too.’ Bond’s body began to stir with the memory of how she had been. He said gruffly, ‘Now come on, Honey. It’s time to go to sleep. There’ll be plenty of time to talk when we get back to Jamaica.’

‘Will there?’ she said sleepily. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

He heard her stir in the sleeping-bag. He looked down. He could just make out the pale profile turned towards him. She gave the deep sigh of a child before it falls asleep.

There was silence in the clearing. It was getting cold. Bond put his head down on his hunched knees. He knew it was no good trying to get to sleep. His mind was full of the day and of this extraordinary Girl Tarzan who had come into his life. It was as if some beautiful animal had attached itself to him. There would be no dropping the leash until he had solved her problems for her. He knew it. Of course there would be no difficulty about most of them. He could fix the operation – even, with the help of friends, find a proper job and a home for her. He had the money. He would buy her dresses, have her hair done, get her started in the big world. It would be fun. But what about the other side? What about the physical desire he felt for her? One could not make love to a child. But was she a child? There was nothing childish about her body or her personality. She was fully grown and highly intelligent in her fashion, and far more capable of taking care of herself than any girl of twenty Bond had ever met.

Bond’s thoughts were interrupted by a tug at his sleeve. The small voice said, ‘Why don’t you go to sleep? Are you cold?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘It’s nice and warm in the sleeping-bag. Would you like to come in? There’s plenty of room.’

‘No thank you, Honey. I’ll be all right.’

There was a pause, then, almost in a whisper, ‘If you’re thinking … I mean – you don’t have to make love to me … We could go to sleep back to front, you know, like spoons.’

‘Honey, darling, you go to sleep. It’d be lovely to be like that, but not tonight. Anyway I’ll have to take over from Quarrel soon.’

‘Yes, I see.’ The voice was grudging. ‘Perhaps when we get back to Jamaica.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Promise. I won’t go to sleep until you promise.’

Bond said desperately, ‘Of course I promise. Now go to sleep, Honeychile.’

The voice whispered triumphantly, ‘Now you owe me slave-time. You’ve promised. Good night, darling James.’

‘Good night, darling Honey.’

12 | THE THING

The grip on Bond’s shoulder was urgent. He was instantly on his feet.

Quarrel whispered fiercely, ‘Somepn comin’ across de water, cap’n! It de dragon fo sho!’

The girl woke up. She said anxiously, ‘What’s happened?’

Bond said, ‘Stay here, Honey! Don’t move. I’ll be back.’ He broke through the bushes on the side away from the mountain and ran along the sand with Quarrel at his elbow.

They came to the tip of the sandspit, twenty yards from the clearing. They stopped under cover of the final bushes. Bond parted them and looked through.

What was it? Half a mile away, coming across the lake, was a shapeless thing with two glaring orange eyes with black pupils. From between these, where the mouth might be, fluttered a yard of blue flame. The grey luminescence of the stars showed some kind of domed head above two short batlike wings. The thing was making a low moaning roar that overlaid another noise, a deep rhythmic thud. It was coming towards them at about ten miles an hour, throwing up a creamy wake. Quarrel whispered, ‘Gawd, cap’n! What’s dat fearful ting?’

Bond stood up. He said shortly, ‘Don’t know exactly. Some sort of tractor affair dressed up to frighten. It’s running on a diesel engine, so you can forget about dragons. Now let’s see.’ Bond spoke half to himself. ‘No good running away. The thing’s too fast for us and we know it can go over mangroves and swamps. Have to fight it here. What’ll its weak spots be? The drivers. Of course they’ll have protection. We don’t know how much. Quarrel, you start firing at that dome on top when it gets to two hundred yards. Aim carefully and keep on firing. I’ll go for its headlights when it gets to fifty yards. It’s not running on tracks. Must have some kind of giant tyres, aeroplane tyres probably. I’ll go for them too. Stay here. I’ll go ten yards along. They may start firing back and we’ve got to keep the bullets away from the girl. Okay?’ Bond reached out and squeezed the big shoulder. ‘And don’t worry too much. Forget about dragons. It’s just some gadget of Doctor No’s. We’ll kill the drivers and capture the damn thing and ride it down to the coast. Save us shoe-leather. Right?’

Quarrel laughed shortly. ‘Okay, cap’n. Since you says so. But Ah sho hopes de Almighty knows he’s no dragon too!’

Bond ran down the sand. He broke through the bushes until he had a clear field of fire. He called softly, ‘Honey!’

‘Yes, James.’ There was relief in the nearby voice.

‘Make a hole in the sand like we did on the beach. Behind the thickest roots. Get into it and lie down. There may be some shooting. Don’t worry about dragons. This is just a painted up motor car with some of Doctor No’s men in it. Don’t be frightened. I’m quite close.’