When the Lion Feeds (58 page)

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Authors: Wilbur Smith,Tim Pigott-Smith

Tags: #Historical, #Action & Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: When the Lion Feeds
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She must be, her breasts half-naked and the paint on her face and they way she touches Sean. She must have been his mistress. if she touches him again I'll, I'll kill her.

Sean came back to the table carrying a chair and set it down for Candy.

Candy's one of my old friends, my dear, I'm sure you two will like each otherI'm sure we will, said Candy but Katrina didn't answer and Candy turned back to him. Sean, how wonderful it is to see you again. You look so well . . . as sunburnt and handsome as the first time I met you. Do you remember that day you and Duff came to eat at the Hotel? A shadow fell across Sean's face at the mention of Duff's name. Yes, I remember. He looked round and snapped his fingers for the waiter. Let's have some more champagne. I'll get it, Candy's escorts cut in simultaneously and then started wrangling good-naturedly as to whose turn it was.

Is Duff with you tonight, Sean? Candy asked.

candy, didn't Derek get the drinks last time? It's my turn now. Harry sought her support. Candy ignored them and looked at Sean for a reply but he turned and went round the table to the seat beside Katrina.

I say, old girl, can I have the first dance? asked Derek. I'll spin you for it Derek, winner pays but getsfirst dance Harry suggested.

You're on. Sean, I said is Duff here tonight? I Candy looked at him across the table, No, he's not. Listen, you two, how about letting me in on this. Sean avoided her eyes and joined in the haggle with Harry and Derek. Candy bit her lip, she wanted to press Sean further. She wanted to know about Duff, then suddenly she turned on her smile again.

She wasn't going to plead with him.

What is this? She tapped Harry's shoulder with her fan. Am I going to be the prize in a game of chance!

Derek will pay for the wine and Sean gets first dance. I say old girl, that's a bit rough, you know. But Candy was already standing up. Come on, Sean, let's see if you can still tread a stately tneasure.

Sean glanced at Katrina. You don't mind, do you. . .

just one dance!

Katrina shook her head.

I hate her. She's a harlot. Katrina had never in her life spoken the word out loud, she had seen it only in her Bible, but now it gave her a fierce pleasure to think it.

She watched Sean and Candy walk arm-in-arm to the dance floor.

Would you care to dance, Mrs Courtney? said Derek.

Katrina shook her head again without looking at him. She was staring at sean and Candy. She saw Sean take her in his arms and a cold lump settled in her stomach. Candy was looking up into Sean's face, laughing at him, her arm on his shoulder, her hand in his.

She's a harlot. Katrina felt her tears very near the surface and thinking that word held them back. Sean swirled Candy into a turn, Katrina stiffened in her chair, her hands clenching in her lap, their legs were touching, she saw Candy arch her back slightly and press her thighs against Sean. Katrina felt as though she were suffocating, jealousy had spread up cold and tight through her chest.

I could go and pull him away, she thought. I could stop him doing that, He has no right. It's as though the two of them are doing, doing it together. I know they have before, I know it now, Oh God, make them stop it.

Please make them stop.

At last Sean and Candy came back to the table. They were laughing together and when he reached her chair Sean dropped his hand on katrina's shoulder, She moved away from it but Sean seemed not to notice. Everybody was having a good time. Everybody except Katrina.

Harry and Derek were jostling for position. Sean's big laugh kept booming out and Candy was sparkling like the diamonds she wore. Every few minutes Sean turned to Katrina and tried to draw her into the conversation but Katrina stubbornly refused to be drawn. She sat there hating them and Hating even Sean an, for the first time she was unsure of him, jealous and frightened for him. She stared down at her hands on the tablecloth in front of her and saw how bony they were, chapped and reddened by the sun and wind, ugly compared to Candy's. She pulled them quickly into her lap and leaned across towards Sean. Please, I want to go back to the hotel. I don't feel well.

Sean stopped in the middle of a story and looked at her with a mixture of concern and dismay. He didn't want to leave and yet he knew she was still sick. He hesitated one second and then he said, Of course, my fancy, I'm sorry.

I didn't realize, He turned to the others. We'll have to be going . .

. my wife's not too strong. . . she's just had one hell of a go of blackwater. Oh, Sean, must you? Candy couldn't hide her disappointment. There's still so much to talk about! I'm afraid so.

We'll get together another night. $Yes, agreed Katrina quickly, next time we come to Johannesburg we'll see you. Oh, I don't know. . , perhaps before we go, Sean demurred. "Some night next week. How about monday? Before Candy could answer Katrina interrupted.

Please, Sean, can we go now. I'm very tired. She started towards the stairs but looked back to see Candy jump up and take Sean's arm, hold her lips close to his ear and whisper a question. Sean answered her tersely and Candy turned back to the table and sat down. When they were out on the street Katrina asked, What did she say to you? She just said goodbye, muttered Sean and Katrina knew he was lying. They didn't talk again on the way back to the hotel. Katrina was preoccupied with her jealousy and Sean was thinking about what Candy had asked and what he had answered. Sean, where's Duff? You must tell me. He's dead, Candy.

The second before she turned back to the table Sean had seen her eyes.

Sean woke with a headache and Dirk's jumping on his chest did not help to ease it at all. Sean had to bribe him off with the promise of sweets. Dirk, sensing his advantage, raised his price to a packet of bull's eyes and two lollipops, the kind with red stripes, before he allowed Katrina to lead him away to the bathroom. Sean sighed and settled back under the blankets. The pain moved up and crouched just behind his eyes. He could taste stale champagne on his own breath and his skin smelt of cigar smoke. He drowsed back in half sleep and the ache faded a little. Sean, it's Sunday you know. Are you coming to church with us? Katrina asked coldly from the bedroom door.

Sean squeezed his eyelids closed.

Sean! No answer.

Sean! He opened one eye. Are you going to get up? I don't feel very well, he croaked. I think I have a touch of malaria Are you coming?

Katrina demanded remorselessly.

Her feelings towards him had not softened during the night. I don't feel up to it this morning, truly I don't. I'm sure the Good Lord will understand. , Thou shalt not take the Lord's name in vain Katrina warned him with ice in her voice. I'm sorry. Sean pulled the blankets up to his chin defensively. But truly, fancy, I can't get up for another couple of hours. My head would burst. Katrina turned back into the sitting-room and Sean heard her speak to Dirk in a voice purposely pitched to reach him. Your father's not coming with us. We will have to go down to breakfast by ourselves. Then we will have to go to church on our own. But, Dirk pointed out, he's going to buy me a packet of bull's eyes and two lollipops with red stripes. In Dirk's opinion that levelled the score. Sean heard the door of the suite close and Dirk's voice receded down the passage.

Sean relaxed slowly and waited for the ache behind his eyes to diminish.

After a while he became aware of the coffee tray on the table beside the bed and he weighed the additional pain that the effort of sitting up would involve against the beneficial effect of a large cup of coffee. It was a difficult decision but in the end he carefully raised his body to a sitting position and poured a cupful. There was a small jug of fresh cream on the tray, he took it in his right hand and was just about to add a little to the cup when there was a knock on the sitting-room door.

Come in! called Sean. He supposed it was the waiter coming to collect the tray. Sean searched his mind for a really scathing remark to send him on his way. He heard the sitting-room door open. Who is it! he asked. There were quick footsteps and then Sean started so violently that the cream slopped out of the jug onto his sheets and his new nightshirt. Good God, Candy, you shouldn't have come here. Sean was in a frenzy of agitation. He put the jug back on the tray with nervous haste and wiped ineffectually at the mess on his nightshirt with his hands. If my wife. . .

Did anyone see you? You mustn't stay. If Katrina knows you've been here she'll . . . well I mean, she won't understand. Candy's eyes were puffy and Trimmed with red. She looked as though she hadn't slept.

It's all right, Sean, I waited across the street until I saw your wife leave. One of my servants followed her, she went to the Dutch church on commissioner Street and there the service lasts about fifty years She came into the room and sat down on the edge of his bed. I had to talk to you alone. I couldn't let you go without knowing about Duff. I want you to tell me about it . . .

everything about it. I promise not to cry, I know how you hate it candy, let's not torture ourselves with it. He's dead.

Let's remember him alive. Sean had forgotten his headache for its place had been taken by pity for her and worry at the position in which she had placed him. Tell me, please. Now. I'd never rest again if I didn't, she said quietly. Candy, don't you see that it doesn't matter?

The way in which he went is not important. All that you need to know is he's gone. Sean's voice faded but went on softly, almost to himself, He's gone, that is the only thing that matters, he's gone and left us richer for knowing him and a little poorer for having lost him. Tell me, she said again and they looked at each other, their emotions locked behind expressionless faces. Then Sean told her, his words limping at first, then faster and stronger as the horror of it came back to him.

When he had finished she said nothing. She sat on the edge of the bed staring down at the patterned carpet. Sean moved closer to her and put his arm around her. There is nothing we can do. That's the thing about death, there is nothing you can do to make it change its mind. She leaned against him, against the comfort of his big body and they sat silently until suddenly Candy pulled away from him and smiled her gay brittle smile. And now tell me about you. Are you happy? Was that your son with Katrina? He's a lovely child With relief Sean followed her away from the memory Of Duff. They talked about each other, filling in the blanks from the time they had last met until suddenly Sean returned to reality. Good God, Candy, we've been talking for ages.

Katrina will be back at any moment. You had better run. At the door she turned, buried her fingers in his beard and tugged his head from side to side. If she ever throws you out, you magnificent brute, here's somebody who'll have a place for you. She stood up on her toes and kissed him. Be happy, she commanded and the door closed softly behind her.

Sean rubbed his chin, then he pulled off his nightshirt, screwed it into a ball, tossed it through the open door of the bedroom and went to the bathroom. He was towelling himself and whistling the waltz that the band had played the night before, sweating a little in the steamy warmth of the bathroom when he heard the front door open. Is that you, Fancy?

Daddy! Daddy! Mummy got sweets for me. Dirk hammered on the bathroom door, and Sean wrapped the towel round his waist before opening it.

Look! Look at all my sweets, gloated Dirk. Do you want one, Pa? Thank you, Dirk, Sean put one of the huge striped humbugs in his mouth, moved it to one side and spoke around it.

where's your Mummy? There. Dirk pointed at the bedroom. He closed the sweet packet carefully. I'll keep some for Bejaan, he announced. He'll like that, Sean said and went across to the bedroom. Katrina lay on the bed, as soon as he saw her he knew something was desperately wrong. She lay staring up at the ceiling, her eyes unseeing, her face as yellow and set as that of a corpse. Two quick strides carried him to her. He touched her cheek with his fingers and the sense of dread settled on him again, heavily, darkly. Katrina? There was no response. She lay still without a flicker of life in her eyes. Sean swung round and ran out of the suite, down the corridor to the head of the stairs.

There were people in the lobby below him and he yelled over their heads to the clerk behind the desk. Get a doctor! run! an as fast as you can . . . my wife, is dying The man stared UP at him blankly. He had a neck too thin for his high stiff collar and his black hair was parted down the centre and polished with grease.

Hurry, you stupid bastard, get moving, roared Sean.

Everybody in the lobby was looking at him. He still wore only a small towel around his waist and, heavy with water, his hair hung down over his forehead.

Move, man! Move! Sean was dancing with impatience.

There was a heavy stone vase on the banister at Sean's side, he picked it up threateningly and the clerk jerked out of his trance and scuttled for the front door. Sean ran back to the suite.

Dirk was standing by Katrina's bed, his face distorted by the humbug it contained and his eyes large with curiosity.

Sean snatched him up, carried him through to the other bedroom and locked the door on his outraged howls. Dirk was unused to being handled in that manner. Sean went back to Katrina and knelt beside her bed. He was still kneeling there when the doctor arrived. Tersely Sean explained about the blackwater, and the doctor listened then sent him to wait in the sitting-room. It was a long wait before the doctor came through to him and Sean sensed that behind his professional poker face the man was puzzled.

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