Sean Courtney was signalling to Mark in the gallery, and he acknowledged and helped Storm to her feet, shielding her through the excited press of bodies as they left the gallery and went down the passage to the staircase.
The General was waiting for them at the visitors entrance. He was scowling and dark-faced with concern, a measure of his agitation was the perfunctory kiss he dropped on Storm's uplifted face before turning to Mark. A pretty business, my boy. He seized his elbow. Come on, let's go where we can talk, and he led them to the members entrance, and up the stairs under the portraits of stern-faced Chief justices to his own office.
Immediately the door was closed, he waved Storm away to one of the chairs, and told Mark, The regiment was called out at ten o'clock this morning. I managed to get Scott on the telephone at his home, and he's got it in hand. He's a good man. They will be fully mobilized by now, and there is a special train being made up. They will entrain and leave for the Witwatersrand at eleven o'clock tonight, in full battle order. What about us? Mark demanded. Suddenly he was a soldier again and he dropped neatly into the role. His place was with the regiment. We'll join there. We leave tonight. We are going up in convoy with the Prime Minister, and we'll travel all night - you will drive one of the cars. Sean was at his desk now, beginning to pack his briefcase. How long will it take us? It's a thousand miles, sir, Mark pointed out. I know that, damn it, snapped Sean. How long? Sean had never liked nor understood the internal combustion engine, and his dislike showed in his ignorance of their speed and capability whereas he could finely judge a journey by wagon or horseback. We won't be there before tomorrow evening, it's a hell of a road. Bloody motorcars, Sean growled. The regiment will be there before us by rail. They've only three hundred miles to go. Mark felt obliged to come to the defence of the car, and Sean grunted. I want you to get on -)me now. Have my wife pack my campaign bag and get your duffle together. We'll leave immediately I get home. He turned to Storm. Go along with Mark, now, Missy. I'm going to be busy here for a while. Mark strapped up his bag, and reflected how his worldly possessions had multiplied since he had joined the Courtney household.
There had been a time when he could carry everything he owned in his pockets, the thought was broken by a knock on the door. Come in, he called, expecting a servant. Only Ruth Courtney ever came down this end of the house on her weekly inspection, a determined crusade against dust and cockroaches. Please take it down to the car, he said in Zulu, adjusting his uniform cap in the mirror above the wash-basin.
All on my own? Storm asked sweetly in the same language, and he turned startled. You shouldn't be here. Why not, am I in danger of violation and ravishment? She had closed the door and leaned against it, her hands behind her back, but her eyes bold and teasing. It would be safer, I should imagine, to attempt to ravish a swarm of hornets. That was merely boorish, coarse and insulting, she said. You really are improving immensely. And she looked at the strapped case on the bed. I was going to offer to help you pack, most men are hopeless at that. But I see you've managed. Is there anything else I can do for you? I am sure I could think of something, he said with a solemn expression, but something in the tone of his voice made her smile and caution him. Not too much improvement in one day, please. She crossed to the bed and bounced on it experimentally. God!
Who filled it with bricks? No wonder Irene Leuchars went home! The poor darling must have sprained her back! Her expression was innocent, but her gaze raked him and Mark felt himself blushing furiously. Suddenly, much that had puzzled him was clear, and as he turned back to the mirror, he wondered how she had found out about Irene. For something to do, he tipped the brim of his cap. Beautiful, she agreed. Are you going up there to brutalize those poor strikers, or to bounce on their wives also? And before he could give expression to the shock he felt she went on, Funnily enough, I didn't really come down here to fight with you. I once had another old tomcat and I was really very fond of him, but he got run over by a car.
Have you got a cigarette, Mark? You don't smoke. He had found it difficult to keep up with the conversation. I know, but I have decided to learn. it's so suave, don't you think? Suave was the fashionable word at that moment.
She held the cigarette with an exaggerated vampish pose after he had lit it. How do I look? Bloody awful, he said, and she batted her eyes and took a tentative draw, held it for a moment and then started to cough. Here, give it to me. He took it away from her, and it tasted of her mouth. He felt the ache in his body, the terrible wanting, mingled now with a strange tenderness he had never felt before. She seemed, for once, so tender and young.
Will it be dangerous? she asked, suddenly serious. I don't think so, we'll be just like policemen. They are killing policemen. She stood up and walked to the window. The view is dreadful, unless you like dustbins. I'd complain, if I were you. She turned back to face him. I've never seen a man off to war before. What should I say? I don't know. Nobody ever saw me off before. What did your mother say? I never knew my mother. Oh Mark. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -'Her voice trailed off, and he was shocked to see that her eyes were brimming with tears. It doesn't matter he assured her quickly, and she turned back to the window. Actually, you can just see the top of Devil's Peak, if you twist your head. Her voice was thick and nasal, and it was many seconds before she turned back. Well, we're both new to this, so we'll just have to help each other. I suppose you should say, 'Come back soon. ''Yes, I suppose I should, and then what do I do? You kiss me. It was out before he had thought about it, and he was stunned by his own audacity.
She stood very still, rooted by the words, and when she began to move, it was with the slow deliberation of a sleepwalker, and her eyes were huge and unblinking. She came across the room.
She stopped in front of him, and, as she lifted her arms, she came up on her toes.
The air about her was filled with her fragrance, and her arms were slim and strong about his neck, but it was the softness and the warmth of her lips that amazed him.
Her body swayed against him, and seemed to melt with his own, and the long artistic fingers slowly caressed the nape of his neck.
He passed an arm around her waist, and was again amazed at how narrow and slim it was; but the muscles of her back were firm and pliant as she arched it, pushing forward with her hips.
He heard her gasp as she felt him, and a slow voluptuous shudder shook her. For long moments she lingered, her hips pressed to his and her breasts flattened against his tunic.
He stooped over her, his hands beginning to move up the hard resilient little back, his mouth forcing hers open so the soft lips parted like the fleshy red petals of an exotic blooming orchid.
She shuddered again, but then the sound in her throat turned into a panicky moan of protest and she twisted out of his arms, though he tried desperately to hold her. But she was strong and supple and determined.
At the door, she stopped to stare at him. She was trembling, her eyes were wide and dark, as though she had truly only seen him for the first time. Oh la! Who was talking about swarms of hornets! she mocked, but her voice was gusty and unsteady.
She twisted the door open, and tried to smile, but it was a poor lopsided thing, and she did not yet have control of her breathing. I'm not so sure of that 'Come back soon' any more. She held the door open to give herself courage, and her next smile was more convincing. Don't get run over, you old tomcat, and she slipped out into the passageway. Her receding footsteps were light and dancing in the silence of the big house, and Mark's own legs were suddenly so weak that he sat down heavily on his bed.
