Shape of Snakes

erect for the purposes of rogering every bit of totty that crossed his tracks.'

He gave me a sheepish grin. 'Actually, I'm being serious. I was incredibly jealous but I didn't think I had much of a leg to stand on after Libby. Then you got pregnant, and I thought, Shit, is the baby mine or Drury's? ... and I was so bloody churned up that when you agreed to try to make a go of it, all I could think about was getting away, burying the whole bloody saga and starting again.'

I was so surprised that I felt as if my jaw had just hit the floor. 'You thought Luke was Drury's?'

He nodded.

'Good God! What on earth gave you that idea?'

He took his foot off the pedal and the car slowed to a crawl. 'Because the only time we had sex throughout that whole miserable period,' he said with a sigh, 'was when I forced myself on you and you told me you never wanted to see me again. You really hated me that night ... and I couldn't believe that something that was done with so much viciousness could produce something so grand.'

I shook my head in amazement. 'Why didn't you say something?'

'Because it didn't matter,' he said simply. 'I always thought of Luke as mine whether he was or not.'

I was humbled. If our roles were reversed-if Libby had given birth to Sam's child-1 could never have been that generous. 'But of course he's yours,' I said, touching the back of my hand to his cheek. 'You should never have doubted it for a minute.'

He leaned his head to one side, trapping my hand against his shoulder. 'I haven't for a long time ... not since Tom was born, anyway, because they looked so alike.' He gave an abrupt laugh. 'Then you insisted on bringing me here for lunch so that Drury could leer at you, and I thought, Is this the first step to telling the sod that my son is really his?'

I snatched my hand away. 'You said you didn't recognize him.'

He speeded up again. 'I never forget the faces of men who make me jealous.'

'There haven't been any.'

'That's what you think.' He leaned forward to wipe mist from the screen. 'Where are we picking up the boys?'

'Beyond the swing bridge.'

'Well, be prepared for some embarrassed silences,' he warned matter-of-factly. 'I spotted them creeping in behind one of the other cars, so I think the chances are they heard every word.'

'Damn!' I said with sudden weariness, leaning my head against the seat. 'I told them to make themselves scarce.'

'Mm, well, I suspect curiosity won out. You can't blame them. We've both been behaving very oddly lately. It could makes things difficult with Danny,' he warned again. 'And I'll have to come clean about Libby ... why I lied ... why I ignored Annie. It's only right they should hear the truth from me.'

'It's not what I wanted, Sam,' I said with a sigh. 'It was supposed to be just you who heard it because I didn't think you'd believe it if I told it to you cold.'

'You should have trusted me,' he said lightly. 'I stopped being a bastard twenty years ago.'

'I know.' I felt tears prick behind my eyes. 'But I could never find the right time to tell you. I'm sorry.'

'Well, I'm not,' he declared with sudden boisterous good numor. 'You've got more balls than an entire rugby team, my girl, and it's about time the boys found out what an amazing mother they have.' He slapped his hands against the steering -heel. 'I keep thinking of this Chinese proverb Jock quoted to me the other day. It's a variation on the theme of 'everything comes to him who waits''-he turned to me with an-ocher grin-'and it's peculiarly apt in the present circumstances.'

'How does it go?'

' 'If you sit by the river long enough the bodies of all your enemies float by.' '

1 thought I knew the man I married before that night, but now I know I could live to be a hundred and still not understand the twists and turns of human nature. I don't know what he said to the boys but whatever it was made them treat me like a valuable antique for twenty-four hours, until I started effing and blinding out of pure frustration, and normal service was resumed. They carefully avoided any reference to the Slaters, all of them understanding that it is one thing to reveal the presence of a scar, quite another to have it split open under the pressure of constant examination.

Nevertheless, it wasn't a subject that could be avoided forever and, after much shuffling of feet on Saturday night, Tom confessed they were supposed to be meeting Danny Slater for a drink but weren't sure whether they should. Sam and I said in unison that Danny bore no responsibility for what his father and brother had done and that it wouldn't be fair to tell him. Leave him in ignorance was our advice.

'Has Dad told you he's thinking of letting Danny use the barn as a studio?' Tom asked me. 'Assuming we buy the place, of course.'

'It's just an idea at the moment.' said Sam, 'but I'd like him to know that we aren't just fair-weather friends.'

''He'd have to slum it,' put in Luke, 'because Dad won't let him smoke dope in the house. But he can clean out the tack room and make it reasonably habitable. There's electricity down there and the loose boxes are big enough to work in. All he'd need to do then is beg some stone off one of the quarries, and he could have a bash at being a sculptor without having to bankrupt himself in the process.'

Three eager faces turned toward me. What did I think?

I nodded and smiled and said it was a grand idea. But I knew it wouldn't happen. Danny would never forgive me for what I was about to do to his family.

The following Monday I visited Michael Percy in prison on Portland. It was a troubling experience because I was constantly reminded that his life was in limbo. Perhaps the extraordinary setting of the Verne, built inside an old citadel overlooking the harbor and standing alone at the end of a series of hairpin bends, added to my sense of unfulfilled promise and waste. Certainly, I felt its