The Horatio Stubbs Trilogy (81 page)

Her gorgeous juices spread from my root through our tangled hairs, down my thighs, round to the rear, up my belly. Mad excitement, snorts of pleasure. Her teeth biting into my shoulder, her ear in my mouth. That tremendous sensation that this was marvellous Katie Chae, and no one else. We fell back on the table, my arms still protectively under the rocking curve of her spine. In that position, her legs came up, wrapping about my back, opening her twot wider, so that I could thrust still deeper, aware of the perfume she was releasing. That perfume, that motion, that unity – they made the most eloquent of all languages, the most convincing of all communications.

My sweat ran with hers. Her eyes were against mine, deep dark, blazing, her breath was one with mine. We came in a clatter of hip bones and sobs, and her being was one with mine.

After a while, she said, ‘Ohhh … what kind of a manners you call that, to do me on my own dining table? Come properly to bed, like a gentleman with proper manners.'

I giggled weakly. ‘What a day I've had! I'm too feeble to manage it again. It's too late.'

‘You no know Katie … You too rough – now we try little-by-little. I give you good value for two watches.'

‘They both need repair.'

As she dragged me to the bedroom, I went weakly laughing and protesting.

‘No, I should report to Boyer … What a mess … Boyer and Raddle – so sad it makes you laugh … One last sweet time, Katie, if I can – my last bash in the Far East …'

Of course I never reported back to Captain Boyer. When I woke later with a guilty start, grey dawn was filtering into Katie's room. That beautiful head was on the pillow beside
me. That face I would never see again was like a Buddha's, serenely turned away from me in sleep. As I kissed its cheek, my spirits sank. I remembered what the day was …

Charlie Meadows and Johnny Mercer were also in the Jeep. They had volunteered to see me off at Polonia airfield. My kit and luggage were piled up at my back. Although the day was still new, the equatorial sun was up, the placid countryside already glowed with heat. To our right, in the distance, slumbered the blue flanks of the mountains of the interior. Sumatra had never looked more beautiful, more peaceful, more pristine.

As we rounded a bend and sighted a Dakota through palm trees, our driver spotted a black car ahead. He slowed. Charlie, Johnny, and I drew our revolvers and crouched lower, fearing an ambush. The car was stationary, drawn in to the side of the road. A fat figure climbed out into the middle of the path and waved to me.

‘It's okay,' I said with relief, putting my weapon back in its holster. ‘It's Fat. What's he doing here?'

It was soon evident what Fat was doing.

As we moved slowly level with the black car, one of Medan's venerable pre-war German taxis, Fat opened the rear door. Out stepped Margey, dressed in her best white dress and wearing a hat.

‘Step on it!' Johnny yelled, banging the Indian driver on the back.

‘Stop, you bastards!' I shouted. ‘Stop, it's Margey!'

Her face registered surprise that we were so close. She hesitated. Fat pushed her forward.

The Jeep accelerated. For a moment, Margey and I were no more than a yard apart. She reached out her arms to me. As I responded, our gaze met. Margey!

She called my name. I rose. I was going to jump out, but Charlie grabbed me, forcing me back.

‘Stubbs, you're thick as they come!'

We were past her. I was looking back. At once, she and
Fat were a long way behind us, standing forlorn in the road by the black car. Their hands were at their sides.

Johnny and Charlie were cheering.

‘Saved you from a fate worse than death, you sod,' Johnny said. He gave his high inane laugh.

The Jeep rounded a bend, and the sight of her was cut off. I kept looking behind.

We roared up to the barrier of the airfield. A couple of members of the
RAF
Regiment came smartly out of the guard-house to meet us, bayonets fixed. The barriers went up.

Sumatra fell away beneath the plane, away in space and time. Swampy coast was visible almost immediately. Islands flecked the sea, which reflected the morning sun like a shield. The air was filled with brilliance. Somewhere ahead, concealed in light, lay Singapore and all my further destinations.

Automatically, I glanced down at my watches. My wrist was empty.