'It's all right, Luke. I wasn't asleep. I'm glad you came.' She opened the door wide and motioned for him to enter.
The room was small, two beds occupying most of its space with a door presumably leading off to the bathroom. A lamp glowed in one corner, giving the room an intimate feeling, and glass-covered but frameless prints, together with delicately painted ornaments, bestowed some warmth upon the functional interior.
'Cosy,' he commented.
She smiled. 'I share it with Jan Wimbush. We've tried to put some life into it.'
'I've just left Jan. She told me where to find you.'
'Where is she?'
'In the kitchen, washing up. She's had a busy evening.'
Jenny looked angry with herself. 'I should have helped her out. I'm afraid today's events have disorientated me.'
'It's okay, Will has been helping her. They're doing fine. Are you still feeling bad?'
'No, I'm okay now. It was just the shock. The vicar's housekeeper came running round to the Centre, you see. The poor woman didn't know what to do when the grounds man told her what he'd found. I went there myself to check. It was so ...' She quickly lowered her face, forcing back the tears; she'd cried enough that day.
Fender felt strangely awkward. He wanted to hold her as he had done earlier, but he was unsure of her mood. One moment she was cold, reserved, the next she seemed to be reaching out, seeking contact.
She lifted her head, pushing away her anxieties. Would you like some coffee? You must be dead beat.'
He grinned. 'I could do with something stronger, but coffee will do.'
'How about both? Jan and I always keep a bottle of scotch handy for our frequent mutual sob stories.'
'You're terrific,' he said.
'Sit down and relax while I get it.' She pointed to the only armchair and he sank back into it with relief, closing his eyes and resting his head back. The tutor disappeared with an electric kettle into the adjacent room and he heard the sound of running water. 'Have to be instant, I'm afraid,' she called out.
'Anything,' he answered.
Soon a heavy measure of scotch was in his hand and Jenny was feeding coffee and boiling water into two sturdy-looking mugs.
'Make it black, one sugar,' he told her. She placed the steaming mug at his feet, then sat on the single bed, facing him. He took a large swallow of whisky and studied her, wondering how good her legs were beneath the tight jeans. Pretty good, if outward appearance were anything to go by. The baggy, loose-fitting cardigan had been replaced by a tight-fitting man's shirt, her breasts swelling against the material in a very un masculine way. It was her face that intrigued him, though: it was somehow both soft yet determined, her brown eyes liquid, but penetrating, as though she could see into his innermost thoughts.
'I'm sorry for yesterday, Luke,' she said.
Yesterday?'
'At the meeting. I'm sorry if I seemed to blame you for what was happening. Or, I should say, what wasn't happening. I get so sick and tired of people who refuse to take on responsibilities, who are content to talk, talk, talk, and do nothing. I'm afraid I put you in with the rest.'
'What's changed your mind? If it is changed, that is.'
'Further thought. You did your best they just wouldn't listen.'
They're listening now.'
Yes, and look what it took to make them.'
'It's the way things are, Jenny. You'll go mad with frustration if you don't acknowledge that. You don't have to accept it; just realize it's there. There are other ways to fight against it, whether you call it apathy, evasiveness, self-protection I call it fear. The thing is not to let it get to you.'
'And you don't?'
He smiled. 'I try not to.'
She looked deep into his eyes. 'Luke, what's going to happen?'
For a moment he thought she meant between them, their growing interest in each other; then he realized the feelings could be entirely one-sided from his side.
You mean the rats?'
She nodded and, from his initial hesitation, he knew she had read his thoughts. He carefully explained to her the details of the operation which was to begin at first light the following day and which would continue till all the mutant rats had been exterminated.
'So we at the Centre will be involved?' she asked when he had finished.
'I'm afraid so. We'll need everyone who knows the forest. Don't worry, there'll be no danger to you.'
'I wasn't worried. I'd intended to stay and help in any way, even if it was only making tea for everybody. I can't stand the thought of them being in the forest, you see. Those monsters, feeding off the wildlife, destroying. They make the forest seem ... unclean. I despise them, Luke.'
Fender sipped his coffee, the whisky having warmed the way for it. Why are you here at the Centre, Jenny? It seems a strange, almost lonely life.'
