'I'm sorry, honey. I got worked up. Truly, I'm sorry.'
She touched my hand.
'It's all right, Jay . . . honest.'
From her smile I knew it was all right.
'You don't really think we made a kid?' I asked.
She giggled.
'That's how babies are made. We could have.'
She slid off the bed and struggled into her jeans.
'Look at the time!'
It was 12.43.
I got off the bed and found my slacks.
'I'll get him. You get lunch.'
'No. . . leave him. He told me he doesn't have lunch. He only eats once a day.'
I shrugged, thinking : a real goon.
'Well, okay, but remember I eat three times a day.'
'As if I could forget.'
She ran off into the kitchen.
I went out on to the verandah. Making love the way we had had relaxed me. I felt I had solved a problem with Lucy, but I still had to solve the problem with Timoteo.
After lunch we took our coffee out on the verandah.
'What will you do, Jay?'
'Go down there and talk to him. It's okay, Lucy, I'll handle him with kid gloves. Did you get around to calling our six pupils?'
She flushed.
'I - I forgot.'
'It doesn't matter. The phone's on the blink.'
She looked questioningly at me.
'What's the matter with it?'
'The same as the car. We're cut off for nine days. Raimundo is in charge of security.'
'This is crazy !'
'There it is. I guess . . .'
I saw she wasn't listening. She had stiffened and was looking beyond me and the scared look was back in her eyes.
I looked around.
Raimundo was leaning against one of the uprights of the verandah. His eyes were screwed up against the sun. He was looking directly at me.
I finished my coffee, taking my time, then I asked him what he wanted.
'Can I talk to you?' He sounded polite and he wasn't grinning.
'Go ahead.'
He glanced at Lucy.
'You coming over to the gallery?'
I got to my feet.
'I'll get to work,' I said, smiling at Lucy. 'See you.'
I left the shade of the verandah and started off towards the gallery. Raimundo fell into step beside me. We walked in silence until we reached the gallery.
'What's on your mind?' I asked.
'It's not what's on my mind. It's what's on yours. Why isn't he shooting?'
'Look, glamour-boy, you take care of security and I'll take care of the shooting . . . right?'
His eyes were like points of steel now.
'It's time you came down to earth, soldier. You don't seem to know what you've walked into.'
'You're flapping with your mouth again. Beat it !' I said. 'I have a job to do and you have a job to do. I do my job my way : you do yours your way. Now, dust !'
He walked into the lean-to and sat on one of the benches. I hesitated, then joined him.
'Come on . . . beat it !' I snapped.
