tomorrow coming. But this business with the girl was going too far. He went down into the lobby.
“Have you seen Miss Lilliford,” he asked the porter, who spoke no English. “Pret-ty la-dy,” he said slowly, as if in adding space between the syllables the man would be able to comprehend him.
“Robert. There you are!”
He turned. The two of them were just coming in.
“We went for a walk. We came looking for you but you’d disappeared.”
“I was in my room.”
“Oh, we thought you’d be in the bar. Time for a last drink, eh?”
“I think not, Julian.”
“Listen, old man, you’ll want to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Busy times ahead.”
“Of course.”
“Well, I must leave you two lovebirds. Goodnight, darling,” he said, and gave Sylvia a kiss.
When Julian had gone, Florry said, “I thought you were coming to my room.”
“I’m sorry. I was on my way when I ran into Julian. Robert, please calm down. You look terribly agitated.”
“Well, where were you? Where did you walk to? What did you?”
“Robert, it was just a stroll. He told me he was leaving tomorrow. And that you were, too. He was very charming but very vague. What on earth is going on?”
“It’s nothing. Yes, we’ve got to go back to the war tomorrow.”
“God, it was over so soon. I’ll miss you both so much. You know, I’ve really had a wonderful time here and?”
“Sylvia, I want to marry you.”
“What?”
“I want to marry you.”
“Robert, don’t be ridiculous. Here? Now? In the middle of this?”
“No, I want you to be my bride.”
“Why, absolutely not. Not until I think about it.”
“We’re going off on a job tomorrow. It’ll be quite dangerous, or so they say. It’s a special thing.”
“For whom?”
“Our old outfit. The POUM people. I can’t tell you more. But I want you to be my wife. I want to marry you when I get back. So that you’ll be mine forever, all right?”
She shook her head in wonder.
“I love you, Sylvia. Do you understand that? Let me tell you, I’m not as charming as he is, but I love you in a way he never will. What he’s good at is getting people to care for him. That’s his special talent. I don’t have it. But in the long run, I’m better for you, Sylvia, don’t you see? Really, I’m?”
“Robert. Please.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes. But in a different way than I love you. I
“You don’t know him, Sylvia. When he gets bored with you, he’ll cut you loose. He doesn’t really
“Robert, I?”
“Please. I must know. Tell me now. If you want, I’ll go away forever. Just tell me. I can’t stand this business in the middle.”
She looked at him.
“I won’t marry you, Robert, because of Julian. But I shall make love to you. Julian thinks he’s going to die. That is what he told me. I think I’m in love with him, not that it matters to him. But I will make love to you if you promise me you will watch him and protect him on this job coming up tomorrow. I know you want more, but that is the only thing I can give you.”
Their sex had an intensity that was almost brutal. It felt to Florry, after his long hunger and his despair and in his pain, like a battle. It was all muscles and sweat; it was work. He wanted to taste her and he did and it drove her wild, like an animal. He wanted her to taste him and she fought him and he forced her down and made her do it.
When they were done they lay there, smoking cigarettes in the dark. They did not quite touch.
Finally he said, “I love you,” and waited for her to respond and she didn’t.
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I’m going to do a lot of thinking. I’ll wait in Barcelona. I have to sort this out.”
“Maybe I’ll get killed and you won’t have to be confused.”
“Don’t talk like such an ass.”
“I think I’m going to my room. I’ve got some plans to make.”
“All right.”
“I’m going to tell Julian about this. I think he should know.”
“All right. Do you want me to come?”
“No. Good-bye, Sylvia. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Florry paused at the door to Julian’s room. Odd, he thought he heard talking.
He waited. No, it was quiet.
He knocked.
“Good God, what fool can be pounding on my door at midnight? Go away, Wee Willie Winkle, the children are fast asleep.”
“Julian, it’s Robert.”
“Stink, there’s plenty of time to talk later.”
“Julian, it’s important.”
“Christ.” There was some stirring inside.
Finally the door opened a bit and Julian, looking frazzled, leaned out. A puff of the warm Mediterranean sea breeze inflated the curtain behind him and mussed his hair.
“Love to have you in, old man, but people would talk. Now what on earth
“Julian, look, I wanted to tell you. Before tomorrow, before we leave.”
“God, Stink, from the look on your bloody face I believe you
“No, Julian, it’s serious.”
“You’ve sprained your thumb and thought better of tomorrow. Odd, I’ve just stubbed a toe and come to the same conclusion. Quite natural, old man, and?”
“Julian, I’ve just come from Sylvia. We’ve been together. Do you see what I’m saying? But I think she would really rather be with you. We’ve actually had a row. I just want you to know.”
“All right, Robert. That’s actually less interesting news to me than you might suppose. Now, good God, go to bed, you fool.”
Florry stood there and started to walk away, thinking about Julian’s luck and his own lack of it. Julian had her and it meant nothing; he’d lost her and it meant everything. He hated Julian for that, most of all: his sublime indifference. And then he noticed what it was that had him feeling odd, feeling peculiar, feeling unsettled about the whole scene.
It was something borne on the sea breeze from Julian’s room.
It was the scent, however diluted, however mixed with other odors, and however much Florry willed it not to be, of peppermint.
