solemn also.
She studied his face carefully, with minute attention.
The sun had dried his hair and fluffed it out, and it was soft and fine
and very dark. The bone of his cheek and jaw was sculptured and finely
balanced, the eyes very clear and slightly Asiatic in cast, the lips
full and firm, and the nose delicately fluted with wide nostrils and a
straight graceful line.
She reached up and touched his cheek.
You are very beautiful, David. You are the most beautiful human being I
have ever seen. He did not move, and she ran the finger down his neck
on to his chest, twirling it slowly in the dark body hair.
Slowly he leaned forward and placed his mouth over hers. Her lips were
warm and soft and tasted of sea salt.
Her arms came up around the back of his head and folded around him. They
kissed until he reached behind her and unfastened the clasp of her
costume between the smooth brown shoulder blades. She stiffened
immediately and tried to pull away from him.
David held her gently but firmly, murmuring little soothing noises as he
kissed her again. Slowly she relaxed and he went on gentling her until
her hands went to the back of his neck again, and she sighed and
shuddered.
His hands were skilled and expert, masterful enough to prevent
rebellion, not rough enough to panic her. He pushed up the thin
material of her costume top and was surprised and enchanted with the
firm rubbery weight of her breasts and the big dusky rose-brown nipples
which were pebble hard to his touch.
It was shocking, completely foreign to his experience, for David was not
accustomed to check or denial, but Debra placed her hands on his
shoulders and shoved him with such force that he lost his balance and
slid down the rock, grazing his elbow and ending in a heap at the
water's edge.
He scrambled angrily to his feet as Debra came up with a fluid explosive
movement, fastening her costume as she did so. A single bound of her
long brown legs carried her to the edge of the rocks and she dived
outwards, hitting the water flat and surfacing to call back at him.
I'll race you to the beach David would not accept the challenge and
followed her at his own dignified pace. When he emerged unsmilingly
from the low surf, she studied his face a moment and then grinned.
When you sulk you look about ten years old, she told him, which was no
great exercise of tact and David stalked back to his room.
He was still being extremely dignified and aloof that evening when they
discovered a discotheque named2ooi A. D. run by a couple of English
boys down on the sea-front. They crowded round a table at which there
were already two B. E. A. hostesses and a couple of raggedy-looking
beards. The music was loud enough and the rhythm hard enough to jar the
spine and loosen the bowels and when the two hostesses gazed at David
with almost religious awe Debra forsook her attitude of cool amusement
and suggested to David that they dance.
Mollified by this little feminine by-play, David dropped his
impersonation of the Ice King.
They moved well together, sharing the gut rhythms of the harsh music,
executing the primeval movements that reeked of Africa with a grace that
drew the attention of the other dancers.
When the music changed Debra came to him and lay her body against his.
David felt some force flowing from her that seemed to charge every nerve
of his body, and he knew that no relationship he had with this woman
would ever run calmly. It was too deeply felt for that, too volatile
and triggered for momentary explosion.
When the record ended they left Joe and Hannah huddled over a carafe of
red wine and they went out into the silent street and down to the beach.
There was a moon in the sky that lit the dark cliffs crowding in above
the beach, and reflected off the sea in multiple yellow images. The low
surf hissed and coughed on the pebble beach and they took off their
shoes and walked along it, letting the water wash around their ankles.
In an angle of the cliff, they found a hidden place amongst the rocks
and they stopped to kiss again, and David mistakenly took her new soft
mood as an invitation to continue from where he had left off that
afternoon.
Debra pulled away again, but this time with determination and said
angrily, Damn you! Don't you ever learn? I don't want to do that. Do
we have to go through this every time we are alone?
, 'What's the matter? David was immediately stung by her tone, and
furious with this fresh check. This is the twentieth century, darling.
The simpering virgin is out of style this season, hadn't you heard? ,
And spoilt little boys should grow up before they come out on their own,
she flashed back at him.
Thanks! he snarled. I don't have to stay around taking insults from
any professional virgin. Well, why don't you move out then? she
challenged him.
Hey, that's a great idea! He turned his back on her and walked away up
the beach. She had not expected that, and she started to run after him,
but her pride checked her. She stopped and leaned against the rock.
He shouldn't have rushed me, she thought miserably.
I want him, I want him very much, but he will be the first since Dudu.
If he will just give me time it will be all right, but he mustn't rush
me. If he could only go at my speed, help me to do it right.
It is funny, she thought, how little I remember about Dudu now. It's
only three years, but his memory is fading so swiftly, I wonder if I
really did love him. Even his face is hazy in my mind, while I know
every detail of David's, every plane and line of it.
Perhaps I should go after him and tell him about Dudu, and ask him to be
patient and to help me a little.
Perhaps I should do that, she thought, but she did not and slowly she
walked up the beach, through the silent town to the hotel.
Hannah's bed across the room was empty. She would be with Joe, lying
with him, loving with him, I should be with David also, she thought.
Dudu was dead, and I'm alive, and I want David and I should be with him
but she undressed slowly and climbed into the bed and lay without
sleeping.
David stood in the doorway of 2001 A. D. and peered through the
weirdly flashing lights and the smog, the warm palpable emanation from a
hundred straining bodies. The B. E. A. hostesses were still at the
table, but Joe and Hannah had gone.
David made his way through the dancers. The one hostess was tall and
blonde, with high English colour and china-doll eyes. She looked up and
saw David, glanced around for Debra, made sure she was missing before
she smiled.
They danced one cut of the record without touching each other and then
David leaned close to her and placed both hands on her hips. She
strained towards him with her lips parting.
Have you got a room? he asked, and she nodded, running the tip of her
tongue lewdly around her lips.
Let's go, said David.
It was light when David got back to his own room.
He shaved and packed his ha& surprised at the strength of his residual
anger. He lugged his bag down to the proprietor's office and paid his
bill with his Diners Club card.
Debra came out of the breakfast room with Joe and Hannah. They were all
dressed for the beach with Terry robes over their bathing gear, and they
were gay and laughing, until they saw David.
Hey! Joe challenged him. Where are you going?
I've had enough of Spain, David told them. I'm taking some good advice,
and I'm moving -out, and he felt a flare of savage triumph as he saw the
quick shadow of pain in Debra's eyes. Both Joe and Hannah glanced at
her, and quickly she controlled the quiver of her lips.
She smiled then, a little too brightly and stepped forward, holding out
her hand.
Thank you for all your help, David. I'm sorry you have to go. It was
fun. Then her voice dropped slightly and there was a tiny quiver in it.
I hope you find what you are looking for. Good luck. She turned
quickly and hurried away to her room.
Hannah's expression was steely, and she gave David a curt nod before
following Debra. So long, Joe. 'I'll carry your bag.
Don't bother, David tried to stop him.
No trouble. Joe took it out of his hand and carried it out to the
Mustang. He dumped it on the rear seat.
I'll ride up to the top of the hills with you and walk back. He climbed
into the passenger seat and settled comfortably. I need the exercise.
David drove swiftly, and they were silent as Joe deliberately lit a
cigarette and flicked the match out the window.
I don't know what went wrong, Davey, but I can guess.
David didn't reply, he concentrated on the road.
She's had a bad time. These last few days she has been different.
Happy, I guess, and I thought it was going to work out.
Still David was silent, not giving him any help. Why didn't the big
bonehead mind his own business.
She's a pretty special sort of person, Davey, not because she's my
sister. She really is, and I think you should know about her, just so
you don't think too badly about her. They had reached the top of the
hills above the town and the bay. David pulled on to the verge but kept
the engine running. He looked down on the brilliant blue of the sea,
where it met the cliffs and the pine-covered headlands.
She was going to be married, said Joe softly. He was a nice guy, older
than she was, they worked together at the University. He was a tank
driver in the reserve and he took a hit in the Sinai and burned with his
tank David turned and looked at him, his expression softening a little.
She took it badly Joe went on doggedly. These last few days were the
first time I've seen her truly happy and relaxed. He shrugged and
grinned like a big St. Bernard dog. Sorry to give you the family
history, Davey. just thought it might help. He held out a huge brown
hand. Come and see us. It's your country also, you know. I'd like to
show it to you.
David took the hand. I might do that, he said. Shalom. Shalom, Joe.
Good luck. Joe climbed out of the car and when David pulled away he
watched him standing on the side of the road with his hands on his hips.
He waved and the first bend in the road hid him.
There was a school for aspiring Formula I racing drivers on a neglected
concrete circuit near Ostia, on the road from Rome. The course lasted
three weeks and cost $500 U. S.
David stayed at the Excelsior in the Via Veneto, and commuted each day
to the track. He completed the full course, but after the first week
knew it was not what he wanted. The physical limitation of the track
was constricting after flying the high heavens, and even the crackling
snarling power of a Tyrell Ford could not match the thrust from the
engine of a jet interceptor.
Although he lacked the dedication and motivation of others in his class
his natural talent for speed and his coordination brought him out high
in the finishing order and he had an offer to drive on the works team of
a new and struggling company that was building and fielding a production
team of Formula racing machines. Of course, the salary was starvation,
and it was a measure of his desperation that he came close to signing a
contract for the season, but at the last moment he changed his mind and
went on.
In Athens he spent a week hanging around the yacht basins of Piraeus and
Glyfada. He was investigating the prospects of buying a motor yacht and
running it out on charter to the islands. The prospect of sun and sea
and pretty girls seemed appealing and the craft themselves were
beautiful in their snowy paint and varnished teakwork. In one week he
learned that charter work was merely running a sea-going boarding house
for a bunch of bored, sunburned and seasick tourists.
On the seventh day the American Sixth Fleet dropped anchor in the bay of
Athens. David sat at a table of one of the beach-front cafes and drank
ouzo in the sun, while he studied the anchored aircraft carriers through
his binoculars. On the great flat tops the rows of Crusaders and
Phantoms were grouped with their wings folded.
Watching them he felt a consuming hunger, a need that was almost
spiritual. He had searched the earth, it seemed, and there was nothing
for him upon its face.
He laid the binoculars aside, and he looked up into the sky. The clouds
were high, a brilliant silver against the blue.
He picked up the glass of milky ouzo that the sun had warmed and rolled
its sweet liquorice taste about his tongue.
East, west, home is best.
He spoke aloud, and had a mental image of Paul Morgan sitting in his
high office of glass and steel. Like a patient fisherman he tended his
lines laid across the world. Right now the one to Athens was beginning
to twitch. He could imagine the quiet satisfaction as he began to reel
it in, drawing David struggling feebly back to the centre. What the
hell, I could still fly Impalas as a reserve officer, he thought, and
there was always the Lear, if he could get it away from Barney.
David drained the glass and stood up abruptly, feeling the fading glow
of his defiance. He flagged a cab and was driven back to his room at
the Grande Bretagne on Syndagma Square.
His defiance was dying so swiftly that one of his companions for dinner
that night was John Dinopoulos, Morgan Group's agent for Greece, a slim
elegant sophisticate with an unlined sun-tanned face, silver wings in
his hair and an elegantly casual way of dressing.
John had selected for David's table companion the female star of a
number of Italian spaghetti westerns. A young lady of ample bosom and
dark flashing eye whose breathing and bosom had become so agitated when
John introduced David as a diamond millionaire from Africa.
Diamonds were the most glamorous, although not the most significant of
Morgan Group's interests.
They sat upon the terrace of Dionysius, for the evening was mild. The
restaurant was carved into the living rock of the hill-top of
Lycabettus, under the church of St. Paul.
Down the zigzag path from the church, the Easter procession of
worshippers unwound in a flickering stream of candle flames through the
pine forest below them, and the singing carried sweetly on the still
night air. On its far hill-top the stately columns of the Acropolis
were flood-lit so that they glowed as creamily as ancient ivory, and
beyond that again on the midnight waters of the bay the American fleet
wore gay garlands of fairy lights.
The glory that was Greece murmured the star of Italian westerns, as
though she voiced the wisdom of the ages, and placed one heavily
jewelled hand on David's thigh while with the other she raised a glass
of red Samos wine to him and cast him a look under thick eyelashes that