kept her from him these past weeks since she had known he was there. So
close-so terribly near.
Determinedly she looked down again into the pool and tried to conjure
up the face of her husband. all she saw was a yellow fish gliding
quietly across the sandy bottom with the pattern of its scales showing
like the teeth of a file along its sides. She dropped a pebble into
the water and the fish darted away.
Saul. Merry little Saul with his monkey face, who made her laugh the
way a mother laughs at her child. I love him, she thought. And it was
true, she loved him. But love has many shapes, and some are the shapes
of mountains-tall and jagged and big. While others are the shape of
clouds-which have no shape, no sharp outline, soft they blow against
the mountain and change and stream away but the mountain stands
untouched by them. The mountain stands for ever.
'My mountain,' she murmured, and she saw him again so vividly, standing
tall above her in the storm.
'Storm,' she whispered and clasped her open hands across her belly that
was still flat and hard.
'Storm,' she whispered and felt the warmth within her. It spread
outwards from her womb, the heat rising with it until it was a burning
madness she could no longer control. With her skirts flying about her
legs she ran to the stallion, her hand trembled on the straps of the
girth. - 'Just once,' she promised herself. 'Just this once more.
Desperately she clawed up into the saddle.
'Just this once, I swear it! ' and then brokenly,
'I can't help myself. I've tried-oh God, how I've tried!
An appreciative stirring and hum of comment from the beds along the
wall followed her as she swept down the hospital veranda. There was
urgent grace in the way she held her skirts gathered in one hand, in
the crisp staccato tap of her pointed boots along the cement floor and
the veiled swing of her hips above. There was unrestrained eagerness
in the sparkle in her eyes and the forward thrust of her breasts
beneath the wine coloured jacket. The wild ride which brought her here
had flushed her cheeks and tumbled her hair glossy black down her
temple and on to her forehead.
Those sick and lonely men reacted as though a goddess had passed them
by, thrilled by her beauty, yet saddened because she was unattainable.
She did not notice them, she did not feel their hungry eyes upon her
nor hear the aching whisper of their voices-for she had seen Sean.
He came slowly across the lawns towards the veranda, using the stick
awkwardly to balance the drag of his leg. His eyes were downcast and
he frowned in thought. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw how
wasted was his body. She had not remembered him so tall with shoulders
gaunt and wide like the crosstree of a gallows. Never before had she
seen the bony thrust of his jawline, nor the pale smoothness of his
skin faintly blue with new-shaved beard. But she remembered the eyes
heavily over scored with black brows, and his great beaky nose above
the wide sensuality of his mouth.
On the edge of the lawn he stopped with feet apart, set the point of
